#idk it makes sense in my head but I’m not explaining well bottoms up and the devil laughs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chippedaxe · 3 years

Note

Hi, how are you? You literally write so well. Can i pls request Karl trying to get the female reader pregnant maybe? Like they were both talking about it and they say that they're reader and Karl literally just gets to work lmao also dom! Karl pls?

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Title: Baby Making

Warnings: NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, breeding, pregnancy mentions, no protection, sub reader, pet names?, hair pulling, praising, soft sex

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader gets bred by Karl Jacobs.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: I don’t know a lot about pregnancy tbh, I’ve never been pregnant before.

- idk if this story actually makes sense, I didn't proof read (or edit)

*I'm good ty for asking (and ty for the compliment) ! Altho i wrote this when my fingers were cold :(

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You sat across the room from your loving boyfriend, twiddling your thumbs together as you tried to think about what to say next. You had no idea how to bring this concept up with him, you felt as if he wouldn’t be ready and would shut you down and you were worried as fuck. Karl leaned back in his chair and sighed “I know something’s on your mind, you wanna spit it out baby?” he asked you with a hushed voice.

“Y- yes actually, I’ve been wanting to bring this up with you for some time now but uh.. I just could never find the right words..” you lowered your head and tried to figure it all out “Oh uh- this isn’t gonna be something bad is it? I promise I’ll be better- If this is about my reluctance towards my chores than I swear I’ll drop it!” he exclaimed “No- no!” you couldn’t help letting out a little laugh at his silliness.

“Karl darling, I love you so so much.. And I was thinking..” you glanced away from him. “You were thinking what, sweetheart?” Karl got up from his chair and walked over to you, grabbing your hands and forcing you to look him in the eyes “Oh don’t look at me like that Karl!” your face heated up and you pushed him away gently. “Like what?” he smiled at you and you smiled back, many thoughts rushing through your head as you knew exactly what you wanted.

“I want a family with you.” you had finally blurted it out, lost in Karl’s eyes as you stared back at him. “You want what?” Karl was taken back “I want a baby- is that too much? I can wait if you’re not ready..” you started to apologize “I didn’t mean to make you-” he stopped your talking by shutting you up with a kiss “Of course I want that! I’d love to have little me’s running around- I just never would’ve thought that you’d.. You know..” he blushed a bit.

“You never thought I’d what?” you teased “I never thought you’d actually bring it up! I thought the thought of pregnancy would terrify you!” Karl explained “It did at first but then I saw how happy other couples were with their children and I just knew that was what I wanted..” you reached out and cupped Karl’s face “You mean the family we saw yesterday at the supermarket? I thought the same thing..” Karl leaned in and kissed your face all over.

“No matter what gender our baby is- I want them to have a gender neutral name” Karl explained “Of course if you had a specific name in mind then I wouldn’t care but-” he shrugged “Anything is fine with me, I love you” you wrapped your arms around him and brought him into a tight hug. “So- we should get started then, huh?” Karl whispered in your ear, you didn’t have much time to process what he’d actually said until you replied with “Yeah- we should.”

Your clothes were torn off in a matter of seconds, underwear thrown somewhere on the floor and your bra nowhere to be seen. “Oh wow!” you gasped as Karl towered over you “This okay? You want me to go slower?” Karl asked you but you shook your head “I love this new energy in you!” you smiled up at him “yeah, you do?” he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on your lips. You leaned your head back onto the pillows and then smiled in delight as you watched Karl slip his shirt off, tossing it behind him and then working his way to getting his belt undone.

Karl unbuckled his belt and began to pull at it, keeping eye contact with you every moment as he got undressed. You lowered your eyes and watched him take off his belt, noticing a very noticeable bulge growing in his pants. Karl straddled your body, legs on either side of you as he began to kiss your body. He nipped and sucked on the soft parts of your skin, hands rubbing up your sides and groping your soft mounds of flesh.

You squirmed a bit, writhing in pleasure and pure bliss. Karl kissed down your neck, biting it gently every so often just to keep your attention. Karl’s hands groped your breasts, fingers pinching your soft nipples “ah..” you gasped. Karl licked them, leaving his warm saliva on your nipples and watching them harden as the air grew colder.

"Oh this is new.." you smiled "Gotta get used to this, hun" Karl winked back at you. Your hand flew to his head, fingers running through his brown locks, tugging a bit on accident when your fingers found a knot in his hair "ah-" Karl let out a soft moan. "Oh you like that, do you?" you grinned as you repeated your action and pulled his head back away from your chest.

Karl bit his lip as he stared at you, admiring your face and body with his eyes. "Oh you're so gorgeous, darling" he jumped on top of you and pressed his lips against yours, teeth grazing against your lip as he was desperate to get his tongue in your mouth "mm-calm down!" you gasped as his desperation. He had never been so hungry for you in his whole life.

Karl grabbed your hips, sliding his hands down to squeeze and grope at your thighs. His tongue glided around the inside of your mouth, the sensation making you groan and clench your thighs together. Karl slapped your leg at your reaction, causing you to jolt a bit and open them back up again. Karl pulled away for a moment "Keep them open, love" he told you before going back in for another kiss full of heat and passion.

Your hands found themselves sliding up Karl's chest and feeling his warm skin. You pulled your head off Karl to breathe, huffing and puffing while trying to catch your breath "Breathless already? But we've only just begun, Darling do you need a break?" Karl rubbed your back gently and looked you in the eyes.

"I'm fine, baby- just finding it hard to keep up with your fast pace!" you admitted "I can get a bit carried away- should I slow down?" he asked again "no way! And if you ask again then I'm gonna slap you!" you joked around "And what if I want you to?" he smirked. You met his smart remark with a slap, stunning him for a moment "oh you sure are strong, darling- I hope our child is as tough as you.." he leaned in.

"I hope they're as caring as you, my love" you caressed his cheek and nuzzled his face. Karl started to massage your thighs gently as you two longingly gazed at each other, his hand somehow finding its way between your legs and rubbing your clit gently. "mm.." you hummed in pleasure, feeling yourself melt away in his touch. "This feel good, hun?" Karl asked "very." you gave him a quick kiss.

You slid your legs open a little wider so Karl could slide in between them "Think you're ready for me, darling?" Karl asked "Always ready for you, my love.." you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again. You nipped at Karl's bottom lip in surprise as he suddenly thrust inside of you "Oh I'm so sorry, dear!" you apologized "Don't worry, just kiss it better" he smiled and kissed you again.

You kissed him a lot, you couldn't help it, his face was too adorable to be left unkissed! Karl's cock stretched against your walls, your vagina squeezing around him "ah- that feel's so good.." you grasped onto his shoulders and yelped when Karl suddenly pushed himself in deeper. His cock head was prodding deep inside of you, the sensation making you squirm "feel's weird- and good" you exclaimed.

"Where? Here?" he asked as he kept rubbing up against that certain spot, making you wiggle around on the bed "Darling. Stay still" Karl sighed and pinned you down. Your hands came off of Karl, now gripping onto the blankets to try and keep you from moving around too much.

"Love- I think I'm gonna cum. Are you ready for this?" Karl placed a hand over yours, looking deep into your eyes "Y-yes- I'm ready!" you nodded your head. Karl burst his load inside of you, his hot seed coating the inside of your vagina and leaking out a bit down your legs "oops- looks like we're gonna have to fill you up again, what do you say?" Karl smiled sweetly. You groaned and leaned back on the bed "Round 2 it is." you replied as you got comfortable, you were gonna be here a while.

#karl jacobs x reader smut #karl jacobs smut #c!karl jacobs smut #c!karl smut #dream smp x reader smut #dreamsmp smut #dsmp smut #dream smp smut #dsmp x reader smut #dreamsmp x reader smut #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader smut #tw pregnancy #cw pregnancy

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

2K notes · View notes

allmightsprettyhousewife · 3 years

Note

one shot idea go! Yamada is a platonic yandere for one of his students who is opposite- shy, reserved, timid- and uses books as escapism, so he sneaks them English versions of the books and gives them extra credit "quizzes" on the books, aka book club discussions, and uses it as a way to get closer to them?

"Book Club" + Platonic Yandere! Hizashi Yamada x Reader

Author's Note: So I kinda hate this one! (Not the request, I think its very cute!! I <3 the idea of Mic picking out a quiet person and being like "yeah, no, that ones mine") I feel like it's rushed?? IDK man. I hope you enjoy!!! Trigger Warnings: Yandere (but not really, he's really soft.) Reader Specifications: Gender Neutral Word Count: 760

The rest of the room was silent, save for the scratching of pencils and turning of pages, everyone intent on studying for the English test next Friday. All, but you. Cute, quiet you, sitting right next to the window in Hizashi’s 3rd-period class. Instead of reading past notes to get yourself ready, you busied yourself with rereading your favorite book. You didn’t even hide the fact you were reading well, it was quite obvious. Hizashi walked up the isles, answering questions to those who had questions, but silently wished that they would just figure it out on their own. He wanted to talk to you. He stopped at your little desk, reading over your shoulder. You didn’t even notice him until after he tapped the corner of your book. “Now’s not the time, kiddo, see me after class.” He whispered over to you, sliding the book off the top of your English textbook. You swallowed and nodded silently. A blue-haired boy sitting next to you snickered but was quickly stifled by his teacher’s harsh glare. He slipped a slip of paper between the pages and tucked it under his arm. You stared down at your textbook, hands clenched and shaking in your lap. The rest of the period was hell. You tried to focus on your notes, whispering short English phrases to yourself and then restarting because it didn’t sound right. Moving onto another one that didn’t seem as hard, but still failing. Rinse, and repeat. Your hands grew sweaty, and no matter how many times you wiped them on your bottoms they would just grow damp again. The bell rang 20 minutes later, signaling that all students could head to the cafeteria. You watched as your classmates filed out, talking and laughing while you were stuck with your overly loud blonde teacher. The blonde pulled up a chair next to your desk. You avoided his gaze while you played with a little Present Mic keychain hanging from his bag. It made him melt a bit. “What’s goin’ on, listener?” You used to be the best in my class, and suddenly you just dropped to the bottom.” He laid out an open manilla folder on your desk with some of your most recent essays laid out on top. All in fumbled English that didn’t quite make sense. Your frown deepened at the sight of D’s, C’s, and even some Fs. The blonde’s heart cracked a little. “I... I don’t know, it was just like, one moment I was getting it, and the next I wasn’t.” You explained as best as your could, still avoiding his eyes. “I just don’t get it anymore,” you shrugged. Hizashi was silent as he slid the past assignments into the folder. You fidgeted with your hands while tears built up in your eyes. “Ay! comeon now, no crying.” He smiled at you, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I’m not leaving until you smile at me.” He ducked down to your height, making ridiculous faces until you just burst into a fit of giggles. “Okay, okay, you got me!” You smiled up at him, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “There they are! I knew my number 1 student was in there!” He reached up and ruffled your hair, winking at you. You pretended to be annoyed while you tried to fix your hair, but there was no hiding your smile. “Back to the more serious stuff, I have a couple of ideas,” he stood up and walked to his desk. He picked up three books, all your favorites, of course, all in English. You looked at the stack, one eyebrow-raising. You looked between him and the books, waiting for him to explain. “You and I will have our own little book club! You’ll read a couple of chapters, and come down every two days to give me an update.” You perked up, hands reaching out to look at the titles. “In English.” Your face soured a little bit. “And then you explain it to me the best you can, and we’ll get you some extra credit. Ya dig?” He smiled down at you. You nodded, smiling so perfectly up at him. “Thank you so much, I don’t even know what to say.” You stood up from your desk and hugged him tightly. Hizashi chuckled softly, tucking your head under his chin. “No need to thank me, just doing what a teacher should do!” In that moment, he

relished the feeling of you, his kid, being in his arms for the first time.

#My Hero Academia #mha #yandere #yandere male #yandere prompts #platonic yandere #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere present mic #yandere my hero academia

182 notes · View notes

slightlymore · 3 years

Text

remote control

fem reader x kun x doyoung x ten

genre: smut, pwp, some crack because 96 line duh

warnings: 4some and everything regarding that,,, unprotected, cum play, toys, overstimulation, masturbation, fingering, oral, little slaps to the coochie and thighs, grinding, anal ahem let’s go

idk what spirit possesed me while writing this 😳😳 don't take me accountable it was not me I swear ✋✋✋absolutely not for the faint of heart

vibe: they give you some birthday cake :)

words: 3.8k

_____

Ten groaned after he put a foot in the candle-lit living room.

"Y/N, when you invited me for dinner I didn't expect to see the faces of those two idiots as well."

Doyoung, kneeling on the soft carpet in front of the tv, rolled his eyes while Kun furrowed his eyebrows offended.

You patted Ten's shoulder with a giggle.

"It's a festive dinner, the more, the merrier."

"I hate to say that Ten's right, because he's never right, but I also thought this was a romantic duo escape," Doyoung finished arranging his presents in the dedicated spot as if it were Christmas and sighed.

"Well,” Ten took a chip from the bowl in front of Doyoung, “I see that we share one brain cell. Is that the good shirt Kun? The one that shows off the pecs?" Ten teased the older who scoffed.

"Do you know how cold it is?" he eyed Ten's exposed chest as he had three open buttons.

Doyoung snorted.

You bit your lower lip to not giggle again then clapped your hands once as to get their attention.

"No fighting for one night. Please? The food will be here soon."

"Wait, you didn't cook?" Ten placed his gifts on the coffee table.

You shook your head and he chuckled, high fiving you.

"What are we doing in the meantime? Movie?" Kun sat on the couch, staring at the way Ten didn't let your hand go for a few more moments. "Come sit here," he continued, patting the spot near him, "you said you were very tired."

You sighed and fell on the couch, the sudden movement making Kun wobble so he grabbed your thigh to sustain himself. He considered it a very comfortable armrest since he didn't show any desire to take his hand away.

"We can open the gifts," Ten sat on the ground in front of you with a wiggle of the eyebrows.

Doyoung whined dramatically. "But it took me so much time to arrange them aesthetically."

"No one cares about yours. Y/N, open mine," the younger smiled excited, his smirk making you chuckle once and you accepted the gift he was extending you.

"What's this?"

Doyoung brought his gifts along and sat on the other side of the couch, his shoulder rubbing on you when he tried to find a more comfortable position.

"Open it and you'll see," Ten murmured.

The box under the wrapping paper was foreign to you so you shook it a few times. Kun frowned trying to read better and Doyoung gasped after a few moments of blinking.

"Ten? Is this a vibrator?" you finally asked when your hand wrapped the pink toy.

Ten laughed at your reaction and took the object from your hands.

"Happy birthday. It's a remote vibrator," he explained happily. "You can control it with your phone. Remember when you told me about how it's hard for you to change speed on your vibrator in certain positions? Since it's hard to reach?"

Kun and Doyoung shifted on their seats at his words and you felt your face burn. "Ten! That was confidential," you grabbed the toy back and shoved it into its box.

"Make sure to try it. If you need help to understand how it works I can help you," he winked and you couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Well, now you have to check mine," Doyoung disrupted the moment by shoving his box in your arms instead.

Ten leaned back on his hands with a grin, so sure of his gift being the best one that he choked on air at the sight of the white delicate material in your hands.

"Oh, Doyoung! It's beautiful!" you touched the lingerie with your fingertips before lifting it, looking at the way the light could easily pass through it. "I hope it fits."

"It will," Doyoung was proudly smiling at you, probably patting himself on the shoulder in his head.

"Doyoung keeps staring at your ass so he probably knows your size but I won't believe it will fit until I see you in that myself," Ten passed his tongue on his lip and you rolled your eyes positively amused.

"Ten, stop being horny challenge," Kun murmured.

"I can let you see her in my gift if you let me also teach her how to use the toy," Doyoung offered a deal.

"Uhm? Guys? I'm right here?"

Ten and Doyoung ignored you, deep into their stares battles until Ten smiled slyly as if they silently came to a compromise by themselves.

"Y/N? What do you seriously think about that?" he locked eyes with you, the heaviess of that suggestion making a lump form inside your throat.

"Model that for us?" Doyoung whispered on your side. "We just want to make sure it fits," he raised his palms, no sly intentions - he meant.

Passing the occasion to fuck your hottest friends on your birthday? You were all heated up at the thought and you did want to hide away, but their hungry eyes gave you courage.

So you shrugged, faking nonchalance. "Okay."

The guys let out surprised sounds and Kun's hands on his gifts tightened, making the packet crinkle.

Doyoung sat up from the couch and Ten followed suit as if needing to move. The sudden change of air made your hair swoosh and you chuckled before noticing Kun's gift.

"Oh, right," you tried to take it but Kun was quick to pull it away.

"It's not for me?" you blinked at him a few times.

"Uhm," Kun sucked the air through his teeth.

"Oh? Kunnie is embarrassed that his gift is very PG? Did you buy socks?" Ten teased him, the hot pink toy already in his hands making his image even wilder.

"Come on, Kun," you smiled. "Whatever it is, it's alright. I'll love it," you assured him, stretching one hand again and you both laughed as he kept it out of your reach. "Kun!" you grunted, almost climbing in his lap.

The man slid away from you on the couch, your body hovering over his when he didn't have any more space to run away to, until you straddled his waist and made your way upwards, grabbing at his extended arms and pulling down.

A little triumphal squeal left your lips when you reached the box and you quickly opened it. Kun let out a defeated sigh, his free hands now resting on your thighs draped on both sides of his torso.

So concentrated on the gift, you didn't even notice the lack of teasing from the other two when Kun whispered.

"You can use it as a blindfold."

The silk scarf in your hands felt like water on your skin.

"What?" you finally realized what Kun said.

"Like this," he sat up and your body slid down to his thighs in the movement. He took the scarf and gently placed it on your eyes.

It felt so soft on your eyelids that you sighed pleased.

You chuckled slightly embarrassed from the sudden silence but it was quick to get disrupted when you felt your lips kissed gently by Kun.

"It heightens your other senses," he whispered like a demonstration.

The other two groaned loudly, bickering about how you needed to change into the lingerie first before doing anything else. But your mind was too concentrated on how Kun's body felt under yours and on his hands palming your lower back and going to cup your ass to actually hear anything at all.

You pushed into the kiss, even more, diving your hands into Kun's hair, the blindfold making the sensation even more acute indeed.

"Kun, don't be greedy," you heard Doyoung talk and Kun let your tongue go. You really liked it and desperately wanted to keep your mouth occupied, so when Kun turned you around with your back to touch his chest, you hummed pleased to feel someone's lips on yours again. A different taste and a different technique and you wondered if it was Doyoung, his teeth on your lower lip making you whine.

"I knew you were a biter," you murmured and his breath, hitting your face as he chucked so close to you, caressed your skin so deliciously that you wanted to feel it everywhere. And thank goodness that Kun was there because he gave you just that, his tongue licking your neck in little circles before he started to suck on it. You whimpered and felt Doyoung pull your jaw, even more, catching all of your sounds with his mouth again.

"I washed it-" you heard Ten enter the living room again and you wondered when he left in the first place. "Oh shit, yall already like this?" he commented and you dropped your hand from Doyoung's stomach to his crotch and felt his hard rock cock under the pants. He bit your lower lip again at the sensation and you whined, mirroring his heavy breaths. Then you whined again, this time alone when Kun's hands were quick to pull your sweater off your frame. He adjusted your blindfold again before palming your arms at the sudden goosebumps formed on your skin.

In a second your lips got occupied again and this time you tasted Ten's chapstick instead of Doyoung's mints, the latter probably occupied with fumbling with your pants. Your bra got opened by Kun's hands at the same moment your bottoms got dragged away from your legs. Your knees buckled under Doyoung's cold touch and he whistled silently when you opened them up to drape over Kun's legs. The latter's fingers were gently cupping your soft breasts and you had to break off the kiss to pant. Ten didn't complain and promptly dropped to your chest instead, letting his tongue draw wet stripes around your nipples then flicking your swollen buds with such vigour to make you squirm in Kun’s arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard Doyoung’s voice somewhere on your left, probably enjoying the view. “You like to have three guys all over you, don’t you?”

Your mind started to buzz when Kun’s hands dropped to your stomach, your breasts occupied by Ten’s mouth, and when they grasped at the cotton of your panties you squeezed your thighs together.

Doyoung clicked his tongue and lightly slapped them open again. “Be a good girl and open for Kun.”

“Are you going to take my fingers well, baby?” you heard the latter whisper into your ear. You moaned, letting your head fall backwards on his shoulder and Kun was quick to suck on your exposed neck.

“Yeah,” you breathed out and your hands automatically went to Ten’s hair and pulled when Doyoung hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down your legs.

Completely nude in front of them, you could feel Kun’s jeans rubbing on your bare ass skin, his soft sweater making you want to fall deeper into his embrace.

“Fuck, I might just cum right now,” Ten murmured, lightly caressing your legs.

You wondered what he was looking at but then in a moment your lips got parted by Kun's fingers and when he started to gently rub your wetness, everyone swore softly under their breath, and you knew.

You whined and arched your back into his touch, the thought of giving them all a show going to your head. And you got even dizzier when Kun turned your head around to shove his tongue inside your mouth just when you felt someone else's tongue lap at your core.

The wet sounds were sinful and there were so many hands on your body that you squirmed, the heat of them collecting all inside the nub someone was mercilessly flicking. And when he groaned, breathing out on your pussy, you recognized his voice and tried to imagine just how hot Doyoung looked between your legs.

"I want to see you," you murmured breathlessly against Kun's mouth. Ten clicked his tongue amused.

"Don't think so."

"You need to cum first, baby. Is that alright?" Kun asked with a low raspy voice.

His hands kept roaming your breasts and his cock was so hard against your ass that you wanted him to bury it in you already.

A loud wet smack made it difficult for you to talk and Doyoung's soft laugh sent vibrations through your body.

"Yeah. This is how I want you. Fucked so good it's difficult to talk."

Your legs twitched as you felt his fingertips nudge at your entrance and when you felt one slowly pumping you, your own fingers gripped Kun's arms that were keeping up thighs apart.

"If you're like this with just one finger, what's going to happen with all of our cocks?" Ten wickedly whispered near your jaw and you realized he was kneeling on the couch near you.

"Are you going to be a good girl and take Ten in your soft mouth, baby?" Kun's teeth grated at your earlobe and you gasped loudly, feeling Doyoung inserting his second finger, scissoring inside of you so deliciously to make you beg.

"Close, please, so close-," you mumbled then moaned Doyoung's name as he sucked on your hard clit.

Your sounds got all choked up as you felt Ten's fingers tapping at your lower lip. You opened your mouth wide, tongue out waiting for him. Kun's blunt nails dug into your ass at the view and Ten grunted, presumably fisting his cock before slowly pushing past your lips. You relaxed your jaw and lifted your palms to place on his stomach but Kun was quick to grab your wrists and block your movements.

"We want you helpless, baby. No touching. Let Ten have fun with you as he pleases."

His voice was so teasing that your whined, face stuffed with Ten's cock, giving Doyoung even more drive to eat you all out. He knew you were close so he picked up the pace, for a moment the only sounds in the room - your wet pussy and choking sounds. The vibrations of your throat were driving Ten insane as he held your head with one hand and fucked your mouth. Kun's fingers flicking your nipples just added to it and you were completely gone, cumming on Doyoung's hot tongue in seconds, legs shaking and hands gripping the first thing you could find.

"Fuck, you're so good," Ten's voice was becoming a whine as he let you go to breathe and come down your high.

Doyoung's lips were peppering kisses on your thighs as Kun's praises lingered in your ears.

"Now give us another one, babe," Doyoung hovered over you and kissed your lips, letting you have a taste of your arousal.

You dragged the blindfold to your neck and squinted, the view keeping you dizzy.

You turned your head to Ten and opened your mouth again, shifting off Kun's lap. Ten was quick to slide on your tongue, hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to anchor himself. You whined and felt Kun's hands grab your waist, letting him adjust your body on all fours to his liking. And when you heard his belt unbuckling, your whole body twitched again.

"Shit," he let his palm drag between your wet lips, wetting his cock with his fist and pumping himself a few times.

Ten was kind enough to slide out as Kun stretched you out because it felt so good that you gritted your teeth.

"Good girl," Doyoung hummed, hand moving your hair out of your face. "Does that feel good?"

"Yeah," you breathed out. "Want your cock too."

Doyoung inhaled sharply and took his phone out of the back pocket. Ten moaned curses and you looked up right in time to see the hot spurts before closing your eyes. You felt them on your face and you were quick to open your mouth as well.

"Fuck, Y/N," Ten breathed out, collecting some with his fingers and shoving them in your mouth. You licked them thoroughly, jolting as Kun spanked your ass once as if requiring your attention. He didn't need that, because the way his heavy cock felt inside of you was the only thing roaming your head, and when Doyoung finally got close too, you realized what the phone was needed for.

The buzz of the vibrator filled your ears and when he placed it on your nipples first you thought you were going to go insane.

"Hm, our little fuck toy enjoys this quite a lot," Doyoung hummed, letting it slide down your stomach.

"Do our little toy also want all of her pretty holes used?" Kun asked, his spit falling between your asscheeks under his thumb. He caressed you gently before giving it a trial press down.

"Yeah yeah please," you breathed out, wiggling your ass against his stomach when he stopped fucking you.

"Toy or cock princess?" Ten caressed your face with both hands, lips so close that you were dying to kiss him.

"Cock."

"Hm," he smiled wickedly. "Doyoung, you heard the order."

Said man chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

Kun was quick to slide out and you whined at the sudden emptiness. The toy passed from Doyoung's hands to Ten's and for a moment you wondered what they would use that for now.

"Ride me, love," Kun looked breathtaking leaning down on the couch. You turned around and straddled his lap, the build-up of your orgasm already gone and you were desperate to go back there.

You closed your eyes as you sat on his cock again, sliding down slowly until meeting the base with your clit. Kun grabbed your waist and pulled you down on his chest, your nipples starting to rub on his sweater. You loved it but needed his naked body so you slid your palms underneath it to meet his hot skin. He lifted his arms up and threw it to the side, letting your breasts bounce on his face as you rolled your hips.

A sudden movement made you turn your head behind you to where Doyoung placed himself. His palms soothed your spine and got to your face. You accepted his fingers into your mouth as Kun watched with open lips - just the view of his cock disappearing inside of you enough to make him go over the edge. As Doyoung's fingers gently nudged at your asshole, Kun gladly accepted your nipples in his mouth, hands squeezing the base of them.

"Relax, baby. You're doing so well," Doyoung's low voice accompanied his fingering.

"Fuck," you grabbed Kun's hands, the difference between their movements, gently and harsh, making you unable to think. And you almost forgot about Ten right where the buzz of the vibrator got closer to you.

"Ah shit," Doyoung groaned through gritted teeth, his tip slowly going past your entrance. "I've always wanted to fuck your pretty ass."

You inhaled sharply at the sensation, Kun stopping with difficulty to give you time to adjust to Doyoung's girth and when you begged them to move again, they didn't hold back.

It was intoxicating and so dirty that your head was spinning. They fucked you at different speeds on purpose and you were bouncing between their bodies like an actual fuck toy.

"Such a good slut, taking two cocks at the same time," Ten commented, his hand already palming himself again.

Kun let his head fall back and closed his eyes, his trembling hands on your waist telling you he was close.

"Are you going to let Kun cum inside that little pussy of yours?" Doyoung leaned down, grabbing your jaw to tilt your head backwards.

"Yeah, yes, yes," you mumbled nonsense, so close to the edge yourself.

Doyoung's hand slid to your neck and pressed a little, choking your loud moans.

It all got desperate in a matter of moments, Kun's rhythmic thrusts completely gone and Doyoung's quick snaps to keep you on edge, all until Kun groaned and went limp underneath you. His cum filled you all up as he thrust a few more times riding his high.

"Not a single baby girl will remain unsatisfied," Ten announced, breath heavy thanks to the spectacle, the toy in his hands finally making sense when he placed it on your clit. Everyone groaned as you clenched on their cocks, Kun's half-hard one still inside of you.

"Fuck, Ten-," he whimpered.

"What is it, Kun? Can't take some overstimulation?" his friend teasingly retorted.

"Cumming-cumming so close-," you fell on Kun's chest and he wrapped your body with his arms as it swung back and forth at Doyoung's movements.

The latter was also close given his heavy breath and tight grip on your ass.

"Are you going to cum with me, love?" he asked. "Can't do it alone, understood?"

"Shit Doyoung-,"

"Understood?" he slapped your ass harshly and you mewled, nodding fast.

"Keep that in," Ten whispered, adjusting the vibrator to hit the sweetest spot on purpose.

Kun whined against your face, his cock already hard again inside of you but unable to move.

"Three-," Doyoung's voice was rough.

You whined, nails leaving red marks on Kun's shoulders.

"I can't anymore!"

"Two-"

Your legs started to shake uncontrollably as Doyoung's cock railed you just as intensly.

"Cum for me princess," he finally ordered and you almost screamed, the orgasm washing over you so hard that you were afraid you'd blackout. Doyoung came just as hard, his cum filling your other hole to the rim.

Ten gave you a break and took away the wet toy, his eyes blown out and panting lips.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered.

Kun's cock twitched inside of you and you let him go, sliding down on his body as Doyoung sat back on the couch, eyes trained on the way you were spilling with his seed. You let your legs drap over his thighs, resting on your stomach as you reached Kun's cock, eagerly taking it into your mouth. Your ass in the air on Doyoung's lap was too pretty to be left alone and Ten was quick to hand the other the toy.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Kun grabbed your face, looking at the way you pursed your lips around him.

You were a mess - pleasure tears poking at your eyes, saliva on your chin and cum sliding out of your holes. Doyoung was quick to push it inside again with the vibrator though, loving the way your ass jiggled in his hold under his light spanks. You cried out at the overstimulation then whined helplessly again as Ten spread your legs apart.

"Can you take me as well, love?" he pressed his tip on your raw clit and when you let out a positive moan he slid inside easily with a deep swear. He felt heavenly and his whiny void was by far the sexiest.

Doyoung stood up to give Ten some room to play in and he got close to your stuffed face. You hummed around Kun's cock and your body shook as Ten gently placed the toy between your ass cheeks as he fucked your tight pussy.

You looked up at Doyoung with glossy eyes and letting Kun go for a moment you let your tongue out.

Doyoung smiled wickedly and slid his cock inside your mouth.

#doyoung smut #ten smut #kun smut #nct smut #wayv smut #uhm yeah anyways #ill just disappear #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct pwp #doyoung #ten #kun

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jungshookz · 3 years

Text

teeny tidbits: three years later and yoongi is still very much in love with y/n

according to my period tracking app i’m due in four days so that explains why i felt the sudden urge to sit down and write this

also i had to go back and read the wedding drabble to double-check a minor detail and.,,.., barfs i am so sorry for all of the ceo!drabbles the writing is so tragic

i hope u enjoy this small product of my sappiness <3

➺ pairing; ceo!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; idk just very sappy and gooey and if ur a ceo!couple stan ur going to love this

➺ wordcount; 1.4k

»»————-　💞　————-««

the first thing yoongi finds especially odd when he steps into the penthouse is the fact that it’s a little too quiet for his liking

he purses his lips as he shuts the door behind him, blindly turning the lock with a quiet click as he looks around

sure, it’s almost midnight, but you’re usually tinkering around in the kitchen for a snack or watching netflix on the couch whenever he comes home late... so where are you now?

he’s about to call out for you when he suddenly remembers that hwayoung’s definitely fast asleep by this hour and that you’d murder him in cold blood if he accidentally woke her up and ruined her sleeping schedule (she gets very grouchy when she’s not following a set schedule - and yoongi knows her sour morning attitude was probably inherited from him but he sleeps more peacefully at night thinking that it’s because of one of your genes)

yoongi places his keys on the top of the shoe cabinet quietly before reaching down to yank his laces loose

“woah.” he holds his hands out to keep himself steady after he stands up too quickly and his head starts to spin and he starts to see double

oof

maybe he should’ve slowed down with the wine at dinner

it’s not his fault he’s so weak for a good red!

“shower time, showah time…” yoongi murmurs to himself as he makes his way up the spiral staircase, gripping onto the railings tightly so that he doesn’t slip on his way up, “would you like to join me? wanna come with? lemme soap you up, girl-” he slurs, smiling cheekily to himself at the possibility of being able to run his hands all over your body in a few short minutes

he gives himself a high five when he makes it to the top of the staircase successfully, wobbling for a split second before nodding to himself and giving himself a mental pat on the back

B-)

nice

the warm light coming from the crack in the door leaks into the hallway and yoongi shuffles towards it like a moth towards a flame, reaching up to fumble at his tie with boneless fingers-

yoongi immediately freezes once he reaches the door, his heart skipping a beat in his chest when he catches a glimpse of you wearing your wedding dress through the crack

he watches curiously as you smooth your hand over the neckline before turning from side to side to look at yourself in the mirror

he wasn’t expecting to see this when he came up here but he’s definitely not complaining

yoongi presses his hand against the door frame to keep himself from accidentally stumbling in and scaring you and ruining what seems to be a private moment

it’s just that seeing you in your dress again is triggering a sudden flood of memories of your guys’ wedding day into his mind and it’s making his heart feel all funny (it’s actually just heartburn from the wagyu steak he wolfed down earlier)

the corners of yoongi’s mouth immediately raise in a fond smile at the recollection of you staring up at him with so much love in your eyes as he slid the silver ring onto your finger

it was a beautiful ceremony

the food was great

the champagne was fabulous

the after-party was super fun

the after-after party where it was just you and him alone was definitely fun as well

he can still recall the scent of you all over him when he woke up the next morning

and obviously the honeymoon was great - who doesn’t like paris?!

not to mention, you still look just as beautiful as you did on the day the two of you said i do

maybe it’s just because the alcohol is making him feel all goopy inside but he wants to be a part of whatever moment you’re having!!!

“i’m pretty sure it’s bad luck for me to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, darling.” yoongi pushes the door open with a creak and takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep himself from smiling too widely, “want me to close my eyes?”

“yoongi!” you gasp, pulling your veil up and over your head as you spin around quickly, “god, i don’t understand how your footsteps are so quiet- i really think i should put a bell on you or something-”

“what are you doing?” yoongi interrupts, tilting his head curiously as he offers you a soft smile, “hopefully not wearing your dress so you can run off and marry someone else.”

“no, obviously not-” you snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “i was doing some cleaning earlier and i found the box and… i don’t know, i wanted to see if i could still fit into it and… well-” you sigh, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror before flopping your arms down in defeat, “it doesn’t zip all the way up anymore.”

“to be fair, you’ve given birth to a child since our wedding.” yoongi raises a brow, glancing down at the zipper that’s stuck halfway up your back, “even if you didn’t fit into it at all it would still be totally fine-”

“yeah, but i had to suck in a lot just to get the stupid zipper up halfway-!” you whine quietly, pouting at yourself in the mirror before gesturing to your chest, “one sneeze and my boobs are going to pop out-”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that-”

“you know, maybe i should’ve had spanx embedded into the dress instead of it being 100% silk because silk is not a very forgiving material-”

“oh, baby…” yoongi chuckles, slinking his arms around you from behind before leaning down to prop his chin up on your shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself! your body literally made a human being- forgive it if it can’t fit into a dress from, like, three years ago…”

“i guess…” you trail off, leaning back a little to rest your head against yoongi’s as you continue looking at yourself in the mirror with a pitiful little frown on your face, “it’s just hard to feel beautiful when i can’t fit into most of my old clothes…”

“hey, you cut that out right now.” the smile immediately drops from yoongi’s face and he frowns at you in the mirror disapprovingly, “so what if you can’t fit into the dress anymore? you’re beautiful and like, really hot and- and even after all this time i’m still super head-over-heels in love with you and you could be wearing a potato sack and i would still think you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet and- and i love y-”

“alright, you drunk, i get it.” you giggle lightly, reaching up to pat the side of yoongi’s warm face, “i love you more.”

“good.” yoongi smiles contently when it seems like you’ve cheered up a little from his (very good and extremely persuasive, in his opinion) pep talk, “love you most.” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your palm

“mhm. you reek of wine, by the way-” you wrinkle your nose playfully, letting yoongi sway you back and forth gently before reaching down to pat at his hand, “i think we should get you into the shower and then into bed.”

“i think we should get we into the shower and then into bed.” yoongi corrects you, pausing for a second to think over his words, “yeah. that makes sense.”

…,..,we should get we into the shower and then into bed…..,,.

that totally makes sense

you know what he means

“i’m only joining you so that you don’t pass out halfway through and end up falling asleep against the wall like you did last time.” you remind him, though it’s obvious he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying because he’s too busy nipping at the side of your neck

“mm. hey, you know what the best part is about the zipper not going all the way up?” yoongi grins, one of his arms sliding back from your waist so he can reach for the zipper, “it makes it much easier for me to get you out of this dress.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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mutigold · 3 years

Text

∞ for dessert — woosan.

summary: in which mommy and daddy come home to find their baby boy doing something naughty.

pairing: daddy!san x mommy!poc!reader x babyboy!wooyoung

genre: smutty smut

warning: daddy kink, mommy kink, hard dom!san, soft switch!reader, sub!wooyoung, food play, rimming, fingering, spanking, degrading, oral receiving [f. & m.], anal, sex toy, spit kink, choking, boyxboy, edging, face slapping, hair pulling, breast feeding kink, crying, aftercare.

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: heyy! i hope you enjoy this little segment! please support and give me some feedback cuz idk if i did this right for my first time 🥺 but i love you regardless 🤍

“honey! we’re home!”

you and san just got back from your first dinner without your babyboy, wooyoung. he had announced that he didn’t feel too well and decided not to go out; ushering you two to have fun without him.

so, you indeed that. san introduced you to a new korean restaurant where you could see the pretty, bright lights upon the city. you ate some tasty pork, siding it with white rice, and drank soju while chatting up with your first lover.

though, it felt weird without the baby of the trio.

before leaving the traditional establishment; you and san determined to be good partners, ordered wooyoung some vanilla ice-cream for dessert. “baby! we brought you something!” you yelled trying to get your second boyfriend’s attention.

“wooyoung?” san questioned.

you turned to san trying to figure out the situation, but he seemed confused as you. “let’s go check up on him. he still might not be feeling okay.”

when he agreed, you two proceeded to go up to your wooden stairs and near the main bedroom. though the closer you two got, the more vibrations became detected. the sounds of wooyoung’s pathetic and beautiful moans spread throughout the hallway.

“ugh, the nerve of this boy..” you croaked listening to the calls of both you and san’s names.

san looked you from the corner of his eye and replied, “you know we gotta punish him right?”

you sighed understanding he was right. the last time wooyoung pulled a stunt like this, you let him off like the soft dom you were. but this time, san was here to witness his doing; and you definitely didn’t want to defy him.

“let me go grab the ice-cream..”

opening the bedroom door, you spot wooyoung on the king-sized bed rubbing his cock and thrusting a small, pink buzzing toy in his hole. “o–oh fuck! mommy! oh, daddy! faster!”

you bit your bottom lip and felt your lace underwear become damp noticing that the sex toy was from your drawer. then, your eyes drew down to view wooyoung’s tight rectum clenching with every push. “yes! that feels so good! i–i think i’m gonna come!”

“oh honey, that wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.”

wooyoung immediately stops hearing your stern tone. he jumps up from his initial position and hides the vibrator behind his back. “h–hi, mommy.” he mummers.

you sighed exploring different emotions due to his actions; “now babyboy. what were you just doing, and don’t lie to mommy.”

“i–i don’t know what you're talking about mommy.”

a sadistic smile creeps upon your face knowing san was literally gonna fuck his shit up. “babyboy, you don’t know what you just started,” you say as san walks into the door with the cold, creamy dessert.

wooyoung’s bunny-like orbs bounce to san’s shivering frame and waters with tears. “no! no! i’m sorry mommy! i won’t do it again! i promise!”

you walk toward your naked boyfriend and grasp his smooth chin shaking it. “no can do baby, i gave you a chance to explain yourself and now you have to suffer the consequences.” wooyoung’s lip quivers at your statement and looks at san again with fear.

straightening up your posture, you turn to the dominant male and vocalize, “do you wanna start or shall i?”

“i think you should. he’s not getting babied this time.”

sitting down on the bed; you pull wooyoung toward you, signaling for him to come across your lap. “how many should i give you babyboy? fifteen? maybe ten? i think ten is a good number–”

you sensed his cock twitch in excitement on your leg cutting your sentence off. “–and you better count or we’re starting over.”

slap

“one.”

slap

“two.”

slap

“t-three.”

san’s presence appeared behind you as wooyoung cutely whimpered the numbers. “look at that pretty ass turning red.”

slap

“what did i say babyboy, keep counting.”

“i–i’m sorry! four.”

slap

“eight, nine..”

your hand tingles with anticipation at the last spank. “come on, one more.”

“ah! ten!”

you flipped him over caressing his flushed bottom and kissing his wet cheeks. “aww, you did so good baby! but it isn’t over yet.” wooyoung’s blurry eyes look up to notice san licking his lips sadistically.

he roughly grabs his chin, bringing him towards his face. “listen to me, you little brat. y/n may be all nice and sweet to you, but this is the last time you act out. especially when we were so worried about your health; and you lied.”

“i-i’m sorry daddy!”

“yeah, you’ll be sorry alright.” he releases wooyoung and unbuttons his black, formal pants. “come suck on my cock.”

wooyoung quickly grips his monster cock, licking him from the base to his pre-cum covered tip. san’s nostrils flared up at wooyoung’s bratty actions, pulled the strands from his head, and slapped his face. “do. not. play. with me. either you suck my cock or you don’t get to come tonight.”

and with that, san begins to get sucked on. wooyoung deep-throats the cock; saliva dripping. “look at you taking down that big cock. you look so pretty babyboy.” you moan looking at your boyfriends play in front of you.

wanting in on that play, you rub on wooyoung’s ass as an idea pops into your head. “arch your back and spread your legs for me, honey,” you say picking up the melted ice-cream.

and he does just that still engulfing on san. you drop a pint of spit along with some of the dessert on your baby’s puckered star, rubbing your thighs for pleasure. then you lower yourself, licking inside of wooyoung’s ass.

“oh my god! mommy!” he suddenly shouts in pleasure. you began to french kiss his anus tasting the sweetness; trying to find that special spot inside of him. “keep sucking daddy’s cock baby.”

san groans deeply at your seductive voice and wooyoung’s moaning around his cock. “that’s it babyboy. should i let you come tonight? maybe we’ll make you apologize with come in your mouth first. then maybe your dumb self would get it after that.”

wooyoung rubs himself on the bed with every insult san makes and every thrust your tongue moves. “oh, i think he likes that daddy. don’t you baby?”

“mmm!”

switching it up, you stop rimming him, making sure to lick up all the cream, and stick three fingers up his ass making him whine. “shhh, baby. i’m just prepping you for daddy’s cock, okay? how about this; if you come up with a good apology for daddy and me, i’ll let you fuck me while he fucks you. how about it?”

he moans in agreement as san fills his mouth up with come. “good fucking boy making me come. come on, give us that apology.”

taking his cum-filled entrance off, he gibbers with, “i’m sorry! i swear i’ll never do it again! i swear this time, mommy, daddy! i’ll do whatever you want, please fuck me!”

you looked up at your other boyfriend once again trying to view his expression. if you were in charge at this moment, you would have accepted his apology; however, it was san that was in control and he was always unpredictable.

“what do you think san? was it a good enough apology?” you asked.

“mhmm... i think it was. turn over so i can stick my cock deep inside you while you eat mommy’s pussy out. then you can fuck her; i like that plan more, don’t you?”

“yes daddy, thank you so much!”

wooyoung turns over so you can sit on his face while san can fuck him. “let me taste your pussy, mommy.” listening to his command, you sit on his warm organ feeling him suck on your clit. “ohhh, baby..”

meanwhile, the dominant male pounds wooyoung’s ass hitting his prostate and making him gasp into your channel. “ah! yes, baby! suck my fucking clit! such a good boy for mommy..” with all your moaning, you didn’t even notice your eyes closing.

but when you opened them, they spot the small, pink sex toy at the corner of the bed. you grabbed it, turned it on, and placed it on the nerve tingling with pleasure. “yessss! stick your tongue me, baby! you’re about to make come! ah!”

creaming, your thighs shake from the sudden desire. you get off of wooyoung’s face, licking and kissing his wet face covered with your essence. “oh, you did mommy so good babyboy. are you ready for me to ride you?”

he whines in agreement as san pulls out of him; setting him up over by the headboard while being under him. “okay baby, i’m gonna ride your cock now.”

both you and san begin to push on him, giving him double the pleasure. “oh my god! i love you guys! i love you so fucking much!” he cries tears dripping down his sweaty face. you drop on him while the other boyfriend thrusts into him hitting his prostate again.

“please! please!”

the feeling of your clenched pussy around him and san’s large cock pushing into him began to make him go crazy. “i–i think i about to come! i’m about to come!”

you bring your small hand up to choke wooyoung’s slender tanned neck, demanding, “uh-uh, you don’t get to come before mommy and daddy honey. ah! come on baby, make us come.”

“oh, mommy! daddy! please come!”

grabbing more of the leftover melting ice-cream, you pour it along your chocolate breasts. “be quiet and suck mommy’s nipples, babyboy. it’ll keep your bratty ass close.” san huffed out still pounding wooyoung’s prostate.

so, that’s what he did. like a baby, the submissive male licked and sucked the sweet cream that was on your nipples. “ooo! you like mama’s milk, don’t you baby.” he moaned nevertheless fuzzing with overall pleasure.

“fuck, i’m about to come in your ass.”

hearing that, made you climb over the edge and come around wooyoung’s twitching cock. “oh! fuck! you’re making me come, baby!”

“shit me too, come with us babyboy. you have five seconds. one–”

not even a second later, wooyoung explodes inside of your cunt, painting your insides white. “ugh! thank you so much! i’ll never do it again!”

after coming down from all the sensory overload, you and san take the time to clean up and do some aftercare with wooyoung. “you did so good baby. i’m so proud of you. but why didn’t you tell us you were sexually frustrated?” you sweetly asked.

“i didn’t want to be a bother. i learned my lesson, i’m sorry.”

san kisses his cheek; replying with, “we don’t ever want you to feel like that. you’re also apart of this relationship, wooyoung. next time, just talk to us.”

“m’kay. i love you” he coos.

you giggled, also kissing his sweaty cheek. “we love you more, babyboy.”

“question, where’d that ice-cream come from?”

“oh! that was for the dessert.”

#sub!idol #sub!ateez #sub!wooyoung #dom!ateez #dom!san #poly!ateez #poly!reader #ateez #kpop #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez smut #ateez x atiny #∞golden-bbi

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Caught Red-handed

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Struggling with migraines

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having suffered from migraines all their life, Y/N knows better than to give them much attention or let them hinder their work too much. However, their boyfriend is a lot more worried than they are and has taken it as his personal duty to ease their pain as much as he possibly can.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to get to it, write and post it, but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it! I’ve never experienced migraines nor have I known someone who has so if I’ve misrepresented or written any misinformation, anyone who catches it, feel free to let me know either in the comments or in my inbox/messages! Love, Vy ❤

The first time I got a headache was in the middle of math class in eighth grade. I remember it so distinctly because I had never before experienced such sudden and such intense pain. I got to go home early that day and spent a good portion of the day trying to sleep it off but to no avail.

Since then I’ve grown used to having to deal with a pain so strong it renders me unable to function for a whole day about two times a month. Sometimes, I even try to be stubborn with it - I try to push through as much work as I can despite the migraine, but that never works out for a long time considering it ends up crippling me in the end. That’s never kept me from trying over and over again though!

Now, to contrast my nonchalance and even annoyance with these pesky attacks, is my boyfriend Corpse’s concern over them. I’ve tried explaining to him that I’ve grown used to them and that I try not to let them bother me and that he shouldn’t stress over them so much but I may as well be talking to a wall because all he has to do is see me squint my eyes or cringe and he enters concerned-mother mode. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it to no end, I just don’t want him worrying over something so small. Also, a minor convenience: if the migraine doesn’t hinder me from tending to my tasks, Corpse will. He’ll make sure I’m off the task I’m working and transported into bed in an instant.

That’s why I’m now clenching my jaw, struggling to maintain a poker face as I work on an important project I have to send to my boss by the start of next week. I’ve got plenty of time, but I like to stay on top of my work so it doesn’t pile on top of me, you know what I’m saying. Corpse is sitting on the couch next to me, casually glancing at me every now and then while remaining quiet as to not disturb me. So far so good, he hasn’t noticed anything and, if I didn’t know any better I would sigh in relief. There’s nothing to trigger the pain to arise any further - the lights are dim, I’m staying hydrated, and I downed two painkillers in the bathroom about an hour and a half ago - so I’m sure I’ll be in the clear at least until dinner.

“Wanna watch a movie when you’re done?“ Corpse asks, “Unless you’re tired or anything...“

I flash him a grateful smile, giving his knee a squeeze of reassurance, “I’d love to, babe. But I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know you’ve got a tendency of doing that.” Giving me a side-glance he adds, “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes, already sensing a blush creeping up on my cheeks and neck which I hide by turning to face my laptop screen. One thing I can’t hide though is the wide grin that’s spread across my face as I mutter: “Shut up.”

Just then, a particularly sharp jolt of pain courses through my head, testing that ability to maintain a resting face. Thankfully, Corpse is turned in the opposite direction, searching for his phone, so I allow myself a brief cringe at the discomfort.

Guess the painkillers are dying down on me, I think to myself, a second away from sighing exasperatedly at the thought that I have to down two more. It was wishful of me to think I could enjoy the luxury of a dull ache until dinner, now the migraine is straight up mocking me.

I quietly stand up from the couch and make my way to the bathroom so I can take another dose of aspirin because I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on my work for very long if it keeps hitting me with this intensity. Opening the door to the small cabinet above the sink, I automatically reach out for the bottle of pills but stop when I see a surprise.

Directly in front of the bottle stands a note written in, you guessed it, Corpse’s handwriting.

‘Already losing effect, huh? When are you thinking of coming clean?‘

Well shoot, am I that transparent?

I sheepishly exit the bathroom, walking back into the living room where Corpse greets me with the same stance as a parent greeting their kid who’s gotten home past curfew: legs crossed, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah, they’re already losing effect.“ I admit, a small apologetic smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks burning with an embarrassed blush. “And I wasn’t gonna tell you at all.” I hurry to add: “Please don’t be mad though.“

Corpse shifts slightly, his gaze giving me a onceover as he contemplates how to pursue the case. I’ve already got several arguments/defenses ready - the perks of working for a lawyer - but I know he’ll dismiss all of them no matter how strong they might come off as in court. Bottom line: even statements that would fly in court can’t fly with Corpse sometimes. Especially when my health and well-being are the topic of observation.

“What have we said about lying?“ He finally asks, causing me to cringe and ball my fists in guilt.

However, I still have my arguments ready: “You never asked me so I never technically lied.” One might say I have quite the audacity to plead not guilty right now, even though I’ve been caught red-handed, but what can I say, I’m stubborn in nature. And Corpse knows this, he’s just testing me for his own amusement.

“Poor excuse, Y/N.“ He says with disapproval, shaking his head and fully embracing his disappointed parent persona. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. So, as punishment for hiding the truth from me, you are to ditch that project you’ve been bugging yourself over and come cuddle and watch a movie with me. Bonus points for you if you fall asleep.“

I needn’t be told twice - not only will it wipe that look off his features but it’ll also get earn me a movie night with the additional benefit of cuddling with my boyfriend? - how could I refuse?

I can’t help it, I just gotta push my luck here and poke the bear with a stick, “If the punishments are so sweet I might start being dishonest more often.“

Corpse rolls his eyes, scooting on the couch and tapping the space he’s freed up for me, “I said I was feeling generous, don’t bet on it happening often though.”

Alright, enough luck-pushing, I should be grateful for this generosity instead. I should be using it to the max.

So, what’s stopping you from doing just that?

Good question, brain, good question.

Head still pounding just not as intensely, I slip under the thin soft comforter to find myself not only wrapped in it but also in Corpse’s arm, his warm embrace bringing me instant comfort, walking me on the tight-rope of falling asleep right away.

“Sneaky bastard.“ I attempt to mutter, yawning halfway through.

I feel his lips on the top of my head, placing a quick and gentle kiss in my hair before he says, “You’re welcome, babe.”

Count your lucky stars, Y/N. You’ve got one of the good ones.

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sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Our First Time

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 4.6k | College AU

Summary: Considering your boyfriend never dares to take the initiative to go further than your usual make-out sessions, you have to do the part to actually be in charge of the relationship.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Mark Lee losing his virginity while being extremely awkward and utterly cute about it, oral sex, fingering, failed fluff (idk man this is just basically me being a thirsty hoe over morkly)

“Remember the suit you wore when we went to your aunt’s wedding?”

Your boyfriend, who has been together with you for almost a year by now, hums in response, not really giving you any glance as he’s busy tapping his pen to his lips, thinking about writing the next lyric for the song he’s composing. Mark Lee has his chest pressed against his acoustic guitar, his hair’s a bit messy and slightly parted to the side, showing his forehead. Considering how close he’s sitting on the floor next to you, you can tell how half of the collar of his washed-out denim jacket stands up, brushing against the end of his dark hair.

“Yeah, what about it?” He continues asking when he notices that you’re waiting for a proper answer. He slips his guitar pick back between his fingers and tries a few chords to match his lyrics.

“I just dreamt about you fucking me from behind while wearing that suit.”

Mark strums his guitar too hard out of shock, making his instrument flies away from his lap, hitting the marbled floor with a sudden loud noise.

“What?”

Still having your head pressed against the table with your right cheek glued to your abandoned college papers, you flatly repeat, “I dreamt about you fucking—”

Mark stands up so fast, you can tell he’s having a slight headache because of it. “No. No. I heard what you said, I just—” It’s a fact that Mark blushes rather easily, but he has never blushed this hard before. “What—why—telling me so suddenly like this—you’re—”

“Mark, you’re rambling.”

“Why are you so calm about it?!” He walks away to pick up his guitar, unconsciously stomping a little bit like a fuming child as he does so. “And why are you lazing around like that? Didn’t you have some assignments to do?”

You finally straighten yourself up, looking at the textbooks you need to read and suddenly feeling like you’re dyslexic from birth. “I dozed off a bit, I guess. I just woke up from that dream where—”

“OKAAAAYYYYY!” Mark scrambles back to your side, crossing his legs and shushing you down by covering your head with your hood until you can barely see anything. The grey hoodie you’re wearing—his hoodie, actually—is already oversized when Mark is wearing it, so it’s basically a dress when you’re wearing it and the hood is big enough to cover your entire head.

You pull your hood away, your hair looking like a mess and by then Mark still has his cheeks rosy from your words and you wonder, whether it really was too much to talk about with your boyfriend?

You have never been the one who gets easily embarrassed about sexual stuff—or about anything really, because you’re a pretty blunt person. It’s his job to get embarrassed about things—even the ones that came out from his own mouth. Mark can be so confident and so awkward at the same time that it doesn’t make sense but you find him to be cute that way.

“Mark.”

“If you’re going to talk about that dream again, I am going to yank my hair out of my head.”

“But—“

“And I’m going to yank your hair out of your head.”

“But then we’re both be bald.”

“That will be your fault.”

You huff, unconsciously pouting, before you finally let go and head back to your papers. You try to hold your concentration longer than a few minutes, but when you hear Mark going back to his guitar, humming a few notes here and there, you just give up because there’s no way you’re going to finish your thesis when your boyfriend is singing so angelically like that.

“New song?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Thanks. It still feels a bit weird on some parts though, but—” Mark stops talking when you walk on all fours toward him, pushing the guitar out of his hands and crawl onto his lap. “Babe?”

You sink your face against the crook of his neck, hands going down and circle their way around his back. “Ssshh,” you say, exhaling all of his scents and thanking whoever it is that invented his perfume because goddamn, Mark smells like cinnamon and chocolate and everything that is good in this world. “I’m out of battery. I need to re-charge.”

Mark spends two seconds in silence before he blurts out laughing, “What are you even saying?” He protests but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he rests his chin on your shoulder and cuddles you closer into his chest.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, almost lazily as if he’s a few seconds away from sleeping. You answer by placing a peck on his neck which makes him jolt a little in surprise but not breaking away. The silence between you two is comforting but the way Mark’s jeans are pressing against your bare thighs is not so you move around, trying to find the most perfect comfort zone on his lap—not knowing that it is becoming a new kind of torture for your boyfriend. It’s until you feel something growing underneath you that you begin to halt your movements.

“Mark—”

“I know, don’t say it—”

“You’re kinda… hard.”

“I said, don’t—” He lets out a whine, slamming his temple against your shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry, but you keep moving your butt and it feels like you’re not wearing any pants—“

“I am not wearing any pants.”

“Fuck.” Mark is not the kind of man who curses a lot—he only does it when he’s surprised or when he panics as he tries to process what he’s saying next, so the fact that he’s cursing now can mean he’s feeling one of those things or both or for a whole other reason.

“I mean,” you try to explain, “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. It’s just your hoodie is way too big for me so I thought why bother? It’s not like we’re going somewhere. We’re just hanging out in my bedroom after all.”

“Oh my God,” Mark groans, throwing his head back as he leans against your bed. “Just give me some time to calm down.”

He really looks like he’s trying to will his boner to go away, what with the way he furrows his eyebrows and keeps his eyes tightly closed in concentration. Mark is too much of a gentleman to ask for your help but you’re willing so it’s more like he’s giving one by providing the chance for you to ravage him.

Just gotta play it cool, though.

And by cool, you mean pressing your palm against his groin when he’s not expecting.

“Yo, what!” He jumps like a scared little cat and honestly, he’s too cute—so utterly cute—that you begin to lean up and kiss him square on the lips. “Mmph!” His protest is muffled by your mouth and the way you entangle your fingers around the back of his hair, pulling him close. He stiffens for a few seconds before he finally lets go, melting into the kiss and you know the next one is going to be your favourite part.

See, the thing with Mark is, he acts shy and awkward most of the time but when the moment is right, he can be passionate about things. Like when he’s playing music. Or writing his raps during his free time.

Or kissing you.

“Mark—“ It’s funny that you initiated this, but it’s you who’s losing your breath. Mark takes your hand when you’re about to fall off his lap, pulling you with enough force to make you tumble back to his chest, and slips his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp. His kisses are deep and fast, almost like he’s in a hurry to kiss you before you disappear from his life forever. You never peg yourself to act like a thirteen-year-old virgin—because you’re certainly not—but when Mark kisses you like this, you feel like you’re acting worse than that.

You can feel one of his hands on your thigh, holding you tight to the point it feels like it’s going to bruise. You push his denim jacket off his shoulders when he kisses your neck, lips hovering hot against your sensitive spot, making you say his name in the tone you’ve never made before.

“You,” Mark whispers between kisses, “have got,” another kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip, “to stop teasing me like this.” Another slip of his tongue, meeting yours for a split second before he breaks off the kiss. “Or else, I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy because of you.”

“Then why are you stopping?” You ask, breathing a little bit heavier. You cup one of his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him again but he pulls away, hesitating. “Mark?”

“I don’t think we should go any further.”

“You don’t?” You grind your hips against him again and his lips part slightly, trying his best to contain his moan. “Even though you’re this excited?”

“That—” He hisses, gripping hips with both hands to keep you still. “Stop it, you’re not being fair.”

“I’m being honest,” you correct him. “What’s wrong? What’s stopping you? What did I do wrong?”

You can tell he feels sorry for making you feel like this and he’s really contemplating whether he should tell you the real reason or not, so you squeeze his hand and smile at him. “Let me know, please?”

He licks his bottom lip nervously before he sighs. “It’s dumb but…” He looks away, trying to hide his face but you see how the tips of his ears are turning scarlet. “You’re Haechan’s ex and I know he can be a little bit, umm… wild.”

It takes a few seconds for you to process. “So you’re afraid that you’re going to be worse than him in bed?”

“No, I mean—“ He seems frustrated and ashamed, like a child being caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “Okay, yes, I guess you’re right. I am. But it’s more than that.”

The way he fidgets and rambles is just so cute—everything about him is cute—but you never say that out loud because he hates being called cute. He always says you’re cuter than him. “Mark, I don’t care about what happened with me and Haechan. I’m dating you now, aren’t I? You’re being jealous over nothing.”

The way he pouts indicates that he doesn’t particularly agree with your words, but he lets it go. “Well, there’s also one other thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know,” he shrugs, hiding his doe eyes behind his bangs. “That thing.”

“What? What is it? What thing?” Then you open your mouth in realisation. “Oh Mark, baby, I don’t care if you have a small dick. Size doesn’t matter.”

“What—NO!” He shrieks, face in flame. “I mean, not that I regularly measure it and compare it to other guys—I have never even seen another guy’s dick—not that I want to—”

“Mark, you’re rambling again.”

“I DON’T HAVE A SMALL DICK!” He exclaims and you hold back a laugh when he adds in a murmur, “At least I don’t think I have.”

“Okay, my bad.” You massage his shoulders, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then what is it?”

Another silence, then. “I’ve never done this before.”

“What, sex?”

He weakly nods, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip worriedly, and you feel something warm growing inside your chest. The fact that he’s never been with anyone suddenly becomes the highlight of your life, and if you can be his first then you can just die from happiness by the end of the day.

But it’s because of this very reason, that you have to become very careful.

“Okay, then, let’s just take it slow?” You offer and he seems conflicted about his own expression. Part of him looks relieved but the other part of him looks disappointed.

“Why do I feel like we have our roles in reverse?” He asks, somewhat annoyedly, as you settle yourself better in his lap. You let out a small chuckle in response. “Also, your brother is downstairs.”

“He has his AirPods on.”

“How do you know he has his AirPods on?”

“Johnny always has his AirPods on.”

“But—”

“Mark,” you whisper, closing your eyes as the tip of your nose touching his, “Don’t you want me?”

He lets out a shaky breath, having a hard time trying not to stare at your lips that are becoming even more irresistible by the second. “You don’t even know how much I want you.”

“Then just let go. Just give in, Mark.” You press your temple against his and within this close proximity, his scent is intoxicatingly amazing.

“Okay,” he finally whispers back, but since he still sounds somewhat unsure, you add, “Look, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Just stop me whenever it gets too uncomfortable for you, okay?”

“Okay now we seriously have our roles in reverse. Should I be handing my dick to you now? I think you’ll make better use of it.”

“That sounds like a great idea only if it’s possib—” The rest of your words is replaced with a yelp when Mark suddenly pushes you down onto your back, your head hitting the floor too hard and now he’s yelping.

“Oh, shit—fuck!” He scrambles with his words and with his hands, trying to help you get up and check on your condition at the same time. “I’m so sorry! I was trying to be sexy and be in control or something like that—shit, it just looks way better in my head—I—Why are you laughing?!“

You can’t help it. This is all too ridiculous. Almost refreshing for you, even. You never compared Mark with your ex-boyfriend Haechan before because Mark is way, way better than he’s ever going to be but you remember that with Haechan, things were wild. So wild, that you constantly got caught off guard, not having enough time to focus on your feelings or your own pleasure and just fulfilling his, and his only. With Mark, you feel like you have so much more to give. So much more new experience. So much laughter. So much fun.

“Oh my God, Mark,” you cackle, wiping away some tears from your eyes, “I love you, but if you don’t stop acting so cute, I am going to ravish you myself.”

“What?”

You blink in realisation. “Sorry, that was too much.”

“No, not that.” He knits his eyebrows together. “You love me?”

You feel your heart drops to your stomach. You can’t believe you just said that. It’s not like you didn’t mean it—of course, you mean it. But you’ve tried your best to wait so you can hear him say it first. You are a woman, after all. And to think that you just said it randomly at times like this? After your boyfriend knocked your head against the floor for trying to be sexy? Not really the way you imagined it to be, that’s for sure.

“Umm,” you fondle the hem of your—his—hoodie. Great, now you’re nervous. Suddenly, those papers you have scattered on your table don’t look so bad. “You’re right, I do have some assignments to do. I’ll just get back to—“

Mark grabs your hand, holding you right on your spot. “You love me?”

You can practically hear your own heartbeat in your ears and it’s really fast. “My thesis—”

“Babe, I need to hear you say it.” The way his doe eyes are holding yours seems unfamiliar. His gaze is firm, unfaltering, and you give in because what else can you do? It’s really how you feel after all.

“I love you, Mark.” You can hear the shyness in your own voice and you curse inwardly because where did your confidence go? You were acting so superior before!

Mark doesn’t say a word and when you feel like dying is a better option than standing awkwardly in front of your attractive boyfriend after your stupid unplanned confession, he suddenly lifts your entire body with both hands and lays you down on the bed.

“Mark—“

He kisses you like he needs it to keep himself alive, and you find yourself closing your eyes shut, moulding your lips against his until you can taste the mint flavour from the candy he ate earlier. He tangles his fingers around your locks, the other hand cupping your cheek to angle your face better so he can kiss you deeper. You can’t help but to arch yourself closer to him, chest meeting chest, hips against hips. You can no longer tell whether the moans come from you or him but everything feels hot and going so fast, like you’re free-falling from a skyscraper.

Perhaps he feels the same way because he gradually slows his pace until he finally parts his lips from you. One look at your disheveled face and messy lipstick smeared from your mouth to your cheek, and he goes back to staring at your lips again with want. He mutters, “Fuck” under his breath, almost inaudibly before he crashes his lips against yours, but slower this time, just carefully savouring every taste and breathing in every scent of you.

Mark pulls away only to grab the hem of his white Van Halen shirt, pulling it over his head and tosses it somewhere without care and you have to remind yourself to breathe because fuck me, that was hot. His hair’s a mess—even messier than before and you think that’s just as hot as he can get but then he pushes his hair back with his hand, forehead showing as it glistens with sweat, and says, “I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

Again, fuck me, that was hot.

Mark seems brave enough to finally just let go and consume you in the way he has been wanting to for a while, but you can tell he’s also nervous from the way he fumbles every now and then, especially when he tries to unhook your bra without looking. He has no problem tossing your—his—hoodie away, but when he keeps his eyes closed as he kisses you, it takes a good minute for him to finally unclasp your bra.

He’s momentarily in awe when your naked breasts come into view but he wastes no more time trying to please you with both his hands and his mouth.

It’s good. He’s good. If he’s this good his first time, you can’t wait to see what happens next. You’re too busy losing yourself in his touch until you feel his length pressing against your thigh. By instinct, you press it harder against his groin, eliciting a surprised moan from him.

Goddamn, why is he so hot?

That voice of his; you want to hear it more and more, so you bring his mouth back to yours, align your hips with his and unzip his jeans. Mark is swearing again, but the more he swears, the breathier he sounds and when you rub him over his underwear, his moans are delicious.

“Feels good?” You ask and he kinds of scowl at you because what do you think?

Surprisingly enough, he pushes your hand away from his crotch and when you raise an eyebrow asking why, he kisses your body lower and lower until his face is hovering above your panties.

“Mark,” you call out, “Don’t try to be sexy and pull my underwear down with your teeth or something. You haven’t reached that level yet.”

He responds by tickling you hard on the sides of your stomach and you almost kick him in the face from laughing beyond control.

After all joking has receded, Mark swallows his breath nervously and kisses you on the inside part of your thigh, slowly creeping down to your heat, mouthing against it from over the fabric.

“Want me to take it off?” He asks in the cockiest way you’ve ever seen him do and you wonder who’s the virgin one in this relationship.

“Depends. Do you want to have blue balls for the rest of your life?”

“I’m kidding, geez,” he says, chuckling a bit but it sounds more nervous and he probably is nervous since he’s never done anything like this before.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you assure him and he looks like he wants to retort with something clever and snarky but he also kind of needs your guidance so he keeps quiet and just pulls your underwear down and tosses it away.

Mark knows how to use his tongue, he just doesn’t know where he should use his tongue. That’s when your guidance comes handy, you suppose.

“A little bit lower, Mark.”

“Here?”

“Lower.”

“Umm… here?”

“Whoa, too low!” You spring up from the bed, pressing your thighs together so he won’t lick anywhere weird. “Okay, Mark, there’s my vagina and there’s my ass. Some girls like to have their asses eaten, but not me.”

“Right,” he says awkwardly, cheeks burning bright. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Umm…” It’s so awkward and you both kind of just sit on the bed not knowing what to do so you ask, a bit unconvincingly, “Try again?”

To your surprise, Mark nods rather excitedly, like a child eager to learn and that’s cute and all but in this context? Not so much.

But wow, Mark learns fast.

It’s been more than a year since someone has touched you like this and it feels like it’s your first time again, so you’re quickly reduced to a whimpering mess when Mark kisses and flicks his tongue against your private part. And when he sucks at a particular spot, you’re practically screaming his name.

“S-sorry, did I hurt you?” He asks, pulling away, eyes shaking in concern.

“God, no.” You’re this close to shoving his face back to your crotch. “Don’t stop, Mark, please.”

“But if you’re in pain—“

“Mark,” you can practically feel your patience throwing itself out of the window. “If I’m in pain, I will kick you in the face or tell you to stop, so if I don’t do any of that, don’t fucking stop.”

You know you sound a bit desperate. Or a lot. But is there any girl out there who’s not going to sound this desperate when Mark Lee is using his mouth to utter nonsense when he just did a perfectly good job over there?

Lucky for you, Mark actually listens and doesn’t stop going even if you’re mewling his name, to the point of almost sobbing even, and continues to please you until your thighs begin to tremble in delight and you fall back to the bed with the biggest content sigh you’ve ever made in your entire life.

“How was it?” He asks with a little bit of teasing in his tone because he can see how good it was. You can tell he wants to hear you praise him.

“You, Mark Lee,” you breathe out, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “Are the most talented person in the world and I’m not just talking about your talent in music, but in everything.”

He chuckles. “That good?”

You pull him down by his belt, until his chest pressing against yours again. “That good,” you agree before you crash your mouth against his in the most consuming way you’ve ever kissed someone.

Mark eventually has his pants off and you switch positions when he’s finally stark naked. He’s so shy about the whole thing that he barely keeps eye contact with you, and he stutters hard, asking where the condom is when you begin to position yourself on top of him. You shake your head, telling him that you don’t have one and add, “Just tell me when you’re about to come so you can pull out just in time.”

Mark opens and closes his mouth like a fish gasping for air, probably about to protest but can’t come up with any better solution. Besides, he basically just throws everything out of the door when you sit down on his lap, your walls stretching against his length in one swift motion and he throws his head back.

“Fuck!” He breathes heavily, looking at you specifically at the part where you both are connected. “You’re wet—how are you so wet—and warm—oh my God—I’m—“

“You’re rambling again.” It’s the third time you said that to him in the last hour, which must have been some kind of a record. Not important right now, though. You’re focusing yourself to adapt to his length—because he’s nowhere small, it turns out—and slide up and down when it stings less.

“Okay, shit, wait—“ Mark sinks his nails on the sides of your hips, making you wince a little and he pulls back, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I feel like I’m going crazy. Can we stop?”

“Too much?”

“Too much.”

You tease him by clenching your walls around him and he just groans loudly in the sexiest way you’ve ever heard a man groan. “Babe, please,” he begs, eyes half-lidded in lust. “You’re not being fair. It’s my first time.”

“So?” You can’t help it. You’re having so much fun. You rock your hips against him again and he just loses it. Mark grabs you by the waist, bringing you back down to the bed and muffle your laughter with his mouth.

“Since you can’t stop teasing me about it,” Mark says, spreading your legs apart by instinct and seeing him between your thighs is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed. “I’ll take control from here.”

Mark moves rather awkwardly, and sloppily from time to time but he is hitting the right spot. He’s too enthusiastic though, which doesn’t make him last long. He comes undone soon after, dripping liquid onto your stomach before your own orgasm can hit you but he doesn’t spend his time lying beside you on the bed. Instead, he quickly inserts one finger into you, then two, pumping in and out as he analyses your expression—making sure that he’s doing right and not hurting you in the process. You clutch your fingers around his bicep, urging him to go faster with your mouth parting halfway in pleasure and he smiles proudly at the sight. Smirking, he brings his mouth back to suck on whatever that is that makes you feel like the world is ending and you don’t fucking care because of Mark, oh yes, Mark!

When you’re done, he pulls his fingers out and licks the tips. He’s probably not trying to be sexy but more out of curiosity or just trying to imitate some dudes in those porn videos he watches from time to time, but goddamn, please do that again.

“Sorry for making such a mess,” he says, pushing the bangs out of your eyes, “I’ll go grab some tissues to clean you up—”

You bring him down to kiss him, senselessly, longingly, and languidly. Just enjoying the moment as you come down from your high. “You know,” you say, “I don’t know if I’m a good teacher, or you’re just one hell of a student, but that was amazing.”

Mark blushes but he grins like a child. “Am I better than Haechan?”

“I hate you for bringing him up because he no longer exists in my life but I bet my ass he’s never going to be as good as you. Our first time is ten times better than my last time with him.”

“You’re being honest?”

“Ten thousand percent.”

Mark plops down on the bed next to you, punching the air in a winning pose. “Hell yes!”

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Let’s take a shower together. You see, practice makes perfect.”

As he’s busy trying to wash the blush away from his face, there’s a loud knocking sound coming from the other side of your door.

“Have you two bunnies done fucking each other’s brains out yet? I need to take my AirPods you borrowed.”

Mark stares at you in horror when you finally remember that you, indeed, borrowed Johnny’s AirPods this morning.

You begin to sweat. “Oops?”

***

1K notes · View notes

seongsangi · 3 years

Text

your girl calls me daddy too

pairing: johnny x reader

summary: the story of getting involved with your professor/classmate's dad 👀

word count: 4.5k

warnings: professor!johnny, dilf!johnny, daddy/sir kink, age gap bc johnny is older in this fic (reader is 21+, we dont do that barely legal just turned 18 shit) straight up smut, that's all we do on this blog

author's note: this took me from 8 pm to 4 am to write. idk if that's fast or not compared to some people but bitch... that's a record for me!

another note: idk if anyone's wondering but johnny is a single dad in this, no cheating or infidelity involved!

No one knows about your relationship with Johnny Suh, certainly not your family or friends, and certainly not his son who is in the same biology course as you this semester. The secret is kept strictly between the two of you, the thrill of hiding it making it that much more exciting.

The relationship began with him being your chemistry professor. The brief glances, lingering touches, and frequent visits during office hours became too much for either of you to deny the attraction. It felt so wrong, the professor-student affair being too much of a cliché that you were hesitant to follow through with it. But after a particular session discussing the assigned homework, you both realized it was now too late to go back.

***********************************************

“Professor, why are you looking at me like that?” you fiddle with your pen in your hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little distracted.” Mr. Suh lets his eyes trail down your figure, eyeing the neckline of your dress that reveals just enough to get his imagination going. He’s thinking about the way you waltzed in here with that damn sundress on, the way you bite your lip when you’re confused on a reaction mechanism, the way your innocent eyes look up at him when he’s explaining the concept. He feels foolish, unable to focus on your question when you’re sitting across from him looking like that, the dress hugging your figure in all the right ways.

“Should I come back another time?”

Mr. Suh clears his throat, giving you another glance up and down before collecting himself. “No, no, I promise I’m fine. Let me check your work right quick.” You hand him the paper, watching as he leans back in his chair examining the mechanism you drew. You let your eyes do the same thing to him as he did to you, taking in the long sleeve black shirt he wore today that hugs his biceps almost too well. It has your hands itching to feel them under your fingers, to take the shirt off and see him in all his glory. Your eyes roam his face, the sharp features drawing you in. You imagine his plump lips doing things to your body that are sure to take your breath away.

He does not fail to notice your lingering stare, or the way you’re fidgeting in your chair. He pulls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearm and grabs his pen, leaning in to show you where you went wrong. As he’s explaining, you lean in too, your perfume filling his senses. You can’t seem to focus on what he’s saying, too busy tracing the veins along his arms and hands. Oh, how they would feel wrapped around your – okay, bitch you have got to chill.

“Miss Y/N, is something the matter?” The way your name rolls off his tongue has you swooning, the added ‘miss’ making your tummy flutter.

You feel your body temperature rising with each second, fiddling with your hands in your lap, your mind going crazy with impure thoughts. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Uh, I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Mr. Suh notices your attention is elsewhere, setting his pen down and looking you directly in the eye, making you feel tiny under his intense gaze.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.”

The statement catches you off guard, your cheeks immediately getting hot. “I- I don’t know, wha- what do you mean?” you stutter, which he finds endearing seeing you all flushed.

“Let’s not act like we don’t know where your mind is at,” he sees right through you. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m right there with you.” His voice drops a couple octaves, sending a wave of arousal through you at the sound of it. Oh fuck, is this really happening right now?

Your breath gets caught in your throat, unable to respond. What the fuck do you even say to that? Mr. Suh gets out of his chair, his long legs coming around the desk and standing in front of you. He leans down real close to your face, bracing himself on the arm rests of the chair you’re in, effectively caging you in. If you thought you were getting warm before, you’re on the verge of burning up now. He’s smirking down at you, enjoying just how riled up you’re getting.

“Are you gonna tell me you haven’t been thinking of things other than chemistry during our meeting?” He cocks his head to the side, challenging you with a tease in his words.

“Um, professor, I don’t think we should be doing this…” you trail, glancing at the closed door behind you. His face is too close for comfort, looking anywhere but at him.

“Then tell me to stop,” his lips now ghosting your neck, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. He’s watching your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Every fiber in your being is telling you this is wrong on so many levels, but it’s making your body tingle in a way you can’t ignore. You’ve been thinking about him and it’s obvious he has been too, what’s stopping you from going further? You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find any words to say, nothing to let him know you don’t want this.

“You have to tell me you want it then,” he pulls back from you slightly, waiting for your confirmation. If you don’t explicitly say yes, then he won’t push it any further.

You can’t take this any more, sitting up straight and saying “I want it” in one breath before crashing your lips against his. There’s no taking this back, you tell yourself as you let him take control. You sigh into the kiss, his lips feel so right against yours, letting the lust cloud your mind. He cups the side of your face, pulling you up by your waist to get a better angle to devour your lips. His hips push you against the desk, lifting you slightly to sit on the edge. Your hands bunch up his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, searching your face for any sign of regret. Instead, he’s met with your blown out expression, needy eyes asking for more.

Mr. Suh shakes his head in disbelief, almost chuckling. “You don’t know what you do to me, miss Y/N.” You love it when he calls you that. He steps back, turning around to lock the door. The sound of the lock only fuels your excitement, eager to see what he’ll do next. Your hands grip the edge of the desk as Mr. Suh stalks towards you, like a predator eyeing his prey. Oh, how you want him to eat you up right now. Your thighs press together at the thought, a movement he quickly notices.

His hands trail up the side of your thighs before resting on the curve of your ass. The fabric is soft to the touch but he bets your skin is softer. “What are you thinking of, you naughty girl?” His lips are back on you, letting your head fall to the side as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Just thinking about you,” you pant.

“I know that much. What do you want me to do, hmm?” he presses further.

“Anything you want,” falling further under his spell. He groans in your ear, ready and willing to take advantage of your submission. It’s more like you’ve got him under your spell. He knows this is wrong on a professional level, but fuck that right now.

“Turn around,” twisting your body before you can even do it yourself. His touch makes you so dizzy, bracing your hands on the homework assignment that has long been forgotten. He kisses your shoulder, pressing close to your backside as he admires you from behind, the dress doing wonders to accentuate your curves.

“You look so good in this dress doll,” kneading your ass in his hands. He gives it a tame slap, not wanting to be too rough since there are still other offices around his. “But I bet you’d look even better with it off.” The wetness in your panties is becoming unbearable, desperate for him to touch you where you need him.

“Touch me please,” your sweet voice begging him is more than enough for him to comply. He bunches your dress up over your waist to expose your soft skin, the thin panties you’re wearing showcasing your wet spot off clearly. His pants are getting incredibly tight, blood rushing to his member with each second. He lifts your right knee to rest it on the desk, trailing his fingers over the thin fabric.

“Right here?” he slides his fingers up and down your center, earning a shudder from you.

“Or here?” pulling your panties to the side and coating his fingers in your arousal. You let out an audible moan when he finds your clit, which prompts him to clamp his hand over your mouth. He cranes your head back to look you in your eyes, his hand still rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

“You’ll have to be quiet or else I’ll stop. Can’t have anyone around us hearing you.” You nod in understanding, eyes fluttering shut as two of his fingers slide into you with ease. You arch your back a bit more, pushing your hips further into his hand. It’s a good thing his hand is still covering your mouth because you can’t help your moans when his fingers are drilling into you so fast.

“You’re taking my fingers so well doll,” he’s gonna drive you insane with that nickname. You turn your head to get a better look at him, watching him part his lips as he watches his fingers disappear in and out of your core.

He slides a third finger in and you want to scream, the stretch makes you feel so full. You’re soaked now, the lewd sounds of your wetness making you feel self-conscious. Just then, his office phone rings. You gasp, looking at him with wide eyes. He lets go of your mouth but doesn’t pull his fingers out of you, pumping them in even as he reaches for the phone. You try to stay as quiet as you can with his fingers still working your core.

“Hello, this is Johnny Suh.” He looks you dead in the eye, telling you you better shut up without verbally saying anything.

“Ah, Jaehyun, what can I do for you?” Your legs buckle when he hits that spot, almost letting out a yelp. He shoots you another glare, pulling his fingers out and shoving them in your mouth to keep you quiet. He sets the phone down for a second, leaning in to your ear. “Play with yourself while I take this call. And shut up, I mean it.”

You can taste yourself on his fingers, the whole thing making you feel so filthy. Your hand reaches down to your core, rubbing yourself slowly as Mr. Suh picks the phone up again. You lick him clean, getting your own fingers wet now with your slick. He’s listening to the other person on the line but paying close attention to your hand in between your thighs. He likes watching you play with yourself, getting off on the thought of him.

“Okay, all that sounds great. Send me an email of the template and I’ll check it out. I’m with a student right now, so can I call you back later?”

When he finally gets off the phone, he shoves his fingers further into your mouth, almost making you choke on them. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? You couldn’t even do that?” You’re so worked up, you can feel your high approaching and you just want him to help you reach it.

You grab his wrist, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “I’m so close,” bringing his hand back to your core.

“You want to cum? Beg for it,” he doesn’t make a move to touch you.

“Please sir, I wanna cum on your fingers, please please.” You stroke his arm gently, pleading with your eyes, anything for him to touch you again. How could he say no when you’re looking at him like that?

He tells you to turn around to face him, holding your leg against his waist. He watches your face contort in pleasure as he gives you what you want, rubbing yourself at the same time to chase your high. You try to keep your voice to a minimum, your sweet moans fueling him on. If his fingers feel this good in you, you can’t even imagine what else he’s got in store for you.

“Fuuuck, sir I’m cumming,” you cry weakly, closing your eyes and clenching around his fingers as you finally get that release. The sight of you coming undone on his hand is almost enough to take you right then and there, but he holds himself back. Your hand grips his wrist tightly, but he doesn’t stop pumping in and out of you until you open your eyes, worried he’s gonna try to get another one out of you so soon.

He finally stops, taking the chance to taste yourself by licking his own fingers clean. God, you thought sucking his fingers was hot, this is even better. He loves the taste of you, already craving more. Mr. Suh runs his hand along your inner thighs, taking a mental image of the sight of you spread open for him on his desk.

“Miss Y/N, I think it’s safe to say that we should keep this a secret between us.”

***********************************************

And that’s how your intimate relationship with your professor began. You’ve been in his office so many times after that, you’ve lost count, letting him take you on every inch of that desk. Before, during, and after office hours, you both crave each other’s touch. You know to keep your time together to a minimum though. You can’t be coming into his office whenever you want, or else it would start to get suspicious. Sometimes you catch yourself stealing glances at his son in biology class, wondering if he has even the slightest idea of what’s going on between you and Mr. Suh.

One day, when he’s at the front of the class teaching, all you can think about is his lips on you as he takes you from behind, whispering in your ear how dirty you are for letting him fuck you before class started. By the end of class, he passes the homework back out. You see a note written in red at the bottom of your paper.

127 Paradise Lane tomorrow 7 pm

It doesn’t take a genius to know what that means or what it entails. You quickly put your homework in your backpack before any curious eyes can see what’s written on it. You look up to see him steal a glance at you, making sure you got his note. Neither of you say anything as you walk out of class.

***********************************************

When you get to his house the next night, he welcomes you in with a warm smile, which quickly turns devious as he shoves you against the door immediately after closing it, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You grab hold of his shirt as his hands roam your body, pulling him as close as you can. His hard bulge presses against your stomach, thoughts already wandering to how mind blowing his impressive length will feel in you. You want him, but one questions prods at your mind, pulling away from his lips slightly.

“Sir, what about your son? Is he gonna be home tonight?” You feel weird in your classmate’s house, but the fact that you’re about to fuck his dad as you’ve done plenty of times before is more overwhelming than your qualms about being here.

“He’s out of town with his friends,” running his hand up your back before grabbing your hair, pulling your head back so fast it surprises you. His breath is warm against your lips, “And when you’re in my house, it’s daddy.” You’re so used to calling him sir, knowing it turns him on but the new name in this new setting makes your insides tingle. You can’t hold back your smile, giving him your best “yes, daddy” to appease him.

Mr. Suh leads you to his bedroom, the king sized bed hitting your back as he throws you down. He towers over you, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. You sit up on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together as you eat up the man before you with your eyes. With each button that comes undone, you get more and more excited. He’s watching you intently, thinking of all the ways he’s going to ruin you tonight. He looks delectable with his shirt off, licking your lips at the sight of his well built figure.

“You’re gonna start drooling soon,” he teases, walking to his closet and pulling out one of his many ties. Whatever he’s thinking of doing with that, you have absolutely no complaints. You bite your lip in anticipation as he kneels on the bed, securing the tie around your neck into a makeshift collar. “Is this okay with you?”

You nod your head, but he pulls on the tie quickly, taking your breath away. “Use your words.”

“Yes, it’s ok,” you choke out. He doesn’t let up, asking instead, “Yes what?”

You’re gushing already, the control he has over you making your head spin. “Yes daddy,” you can barely get the two words out. He lets the tie go slack, coughing a bit at the sudden attack. His hand cups your face, “Sorry was that too much?” You nuzzle your cheek into his hand, telling him you loved it.

And that’s what he loves about you, that you take anything he gives you and enjoy every bit of it. You’re too much for him. He sits with his back against the headboard, tugging your arm to straddle him. “Did you wear this little dress for me?” his hands are sliding up and down your thighs, bringing out the goosebumps on your skin. You brace your hands on his chest, moving your hips against his jeans. The friction against your clit is oh so good and feels even better when he flexes his thigh after seeing your movements.

“You should see what I’m wearing underneath,” tugging the hem of your dress over your body, revealing your choice in white lingerie underneath, the color making you look angelic but is a stark contrast to the sinful things that are about to happen.

“Miss Y/N, what am I gonna do with you?” he asks as you pick up the pace of your hips, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. He lets you do what you want to him, encouraging your hips to move faster. Your small whimpers in his ear tell him you’re enjoying yourself, using his thigh to get off. You know not to leave any visible marks, opting for further down his chest to leave hickeys. His jeans feel so good against your core, finding more pleasure in riding his thigh than you thought, but it’s still not enough. “Want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly, pushing your chest into his face as you find that perfect spot to keep grinding against.

He hungrily pulls your bra down, attaching his lips to your hard nipple as he rolls the other one between his fingers. Your skin is so soft, he could bury his face in your tits all night. He leaves his own hickeys on your chest, admiring his work as he puts your bra back in place.

“Keep the lingerie on.” He pulls you down by the tie again, kissing you fervently as you fumble with his jeans. You get down on your knees, taking his clothes off so that he’s naked before you. His rock-hard member slaps against his stomach when you pull his pants off. You flatten your tongue against his member, locking eyes with him as you lick him from the base to the tip. You take him in your mouth, using your hands to fondle his balls to add to his pleasure. Using your tongue as much as you can to get him wet, you take him as far as your throat allows.

“You look so good with my dick in your mouth,” grabbing your hair and bobbing your head up and down on him. You let him use your mouth, parting his lips at the feeling of your warm tongue. When he lets go of your hair, you release him with a pop, sliding your hand along his length. “I bet I look even better with it in m—” you can’t even finish your sentence as he grabs you by the chin, shutting you up.

“I knew you’d say some shit like that. Why don’t you be a good girl and come ride this dick then?” He shoves your face away, but the roughness only turns you on even more. You straddle his hips, his hand pulling your lace panties to the side as you position him at your entrance. Both of you gasp as you sink down on him, the stretch quickly filling you up, your tight walls clamping against him.

“Fuck daddy, feels so good,” you whine. When he’s all the way in, you lean back on your hands in the cowgirl position, giving him the best view of where your bodies are connected. You feel so exposed in this position, but he can’t keep his eyes off your core as you move your hips, which makes you feel powerful under his glare. You know he loves it just as much as you do, giving him a show as you ride him.

A thought comes into your head, pulling out but quickly turning around so that your backside is facing him. You slide down on him again, his hands gripping your waist. You can move your hips faster in this position, setting a quick pace and slamming your hips against his. He’s lost in the way your ass bounces on top him. You let out a loud whine when his hand lands a hard slap on your ass cheek.

“I can’t do that when we’re in my office,” he lands another one to the same cheek, “but now I can.” He wants to see you red with his handprints, enjoying your little yelps at the sting. You clench around him each time he spanks you, doing so particularly hard but you can’t deny that you like the pain. By the last spank, your ass is on fire, but his large hands smoothing over them soon makes you forget about the pain.

Suddenly, you’re being yanked back by your hair, thrown on your side as he spoons you. Lifting one of your legs up, he slides into you from behind. The new position introduces a new angle for him to fuck you. “Oh shit, fuck, oh my god,” you can only curse as he abuses your core deliciously. Instead of using the tie, he wraps his hand around your throat to choke you. You grip his forearm, letting him use your body to his content.

“Your pussy is so good baby,” he growls in your ear. “So tight, so wet, I could fuck you all night. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You mumble incoherently as a response, too gone in the pleasure he’s sending throughout your body. You let out a choked scream as his hand that’s holding your leg up finds your sensitive nub, bringing you closer to the edge as he tells you how much he loves fucking you. Your legs shake as the pleasure overwhelms you, but he holds you close to keep you from going too far.

“Don’t run away, I know you can take it doll.”

“Daddy please,” you beg shamelessly but you don’t even know what you’re begging for. You want him to keep ravaging you, but you physically don’t know if you can keep up.

Mr. Suh makes the decision for you, pulling out of you to stand at the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, dragging your body towards him. He holds your legs together, pushing them towards your chest. He slides right back in, wasting no time in fucking you again. He loves watching his dick slide in and out of you, loves hearing you moan his name, loves how tight you get for him. You let your legs fall open, sitting up on your elbows to watch him fuck you. There’s something insanely hot about watching you take every inch of him, you can see why he enjoys it so much.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, which makes him grab handfuls of your tits, pinching your nipples. “Baby, can I take a video of you? I won’t get your face in it, you just look so good in this lingerie right now.” You nod, feeling a surge of confidence at his words. He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, opening the camera and pressing record. He slows his thrusts, sliding into you slowly to show off how wet you are. The camera pans to your bra, giving them a squeeze for the video. He shoves your hand away, pulling your breasts out of your bra. He tugs on the tie, making sure not to get your face but still showing your makeshift collar off.

Without warning, he speeds his hips up again, earning a cry from you before ending the video and throwing his phone on the bed. He’s so riled up, he just wants to use you to finish. “You gonna cum for me daddy?” God, he loves hearing you beg for him. You sound so sweet saying the dirtiest things. “Cum for me please, I want it so bad, want you to cum in my mouth.”

“Oh shit baby,” he pulls out quickly, grabbing your hair and shoving himself in your mouth, his warm release all on your tongue. You swallow every last drop, sucking him off as he groans at the slight overstimulation.

He takes a second to catch his breath, noticing your not so innocent eyes looking up at him eagerly. A playful smile spreads across your face and he knows that look all too well.

You’re insatiable.

***********************************************

The next semester, you’re moving into a new dorm. Your parents are here to help you move everything in. You notice Mr. Suh’s son moving into the same dorm, looking around for a glimpse of him. He’s carrying a box of things from the car to the front entrance, stopping you for a quick “hello Miss Y/N, how was your break?”

He looks behind you, asking if those are your parents. “Maybe I should say something to them.”

“What are you gonna say?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe something like: your girl calls me daddy too,” he jokes as you storm off, cheeks flushing red.

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #johnny smut #nct johnny #nct johnny smut

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noteguk · 3 years

Text

for science | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok hears through the grapevine that you give one of the best blowjobs ever, and he needs to test it to be sure.

— contents and warnings; blowjob (duh), dirty talk, praising and stupid pet names, cum eating, deepthroating (the oc has no gag reflex), Hoseok finds heaven, kind of crack? Idk don’t take this seriously, college!au, hoseok x reader (with a mention of past Jimin x reader), studying sessions being interrupted in the name of science

— words; 5,1k

Requested by anon!

Hoseok could be kind of clueless when it came to some science-related things (and his high school biology teacher could attest to that), but one thing he knew very well was the scientific method. All that hypothesis-testing-stuff, or whatever the hell that was (okay, maybe he didn’t know it that well) had taken him out of some trouble in the past. It helped him see some of his decisions in a more experimental light, avoiding the terrible Olympic-somersault-into-conclusions that had gotten so many of his friends into awkward situations. And it shouldn’t even be said that he took quite a bit of pride in that — it made him feel very intelligent and he would take any stroke to the ego that he could get.

So, when Jimin got a bit too tipsy and started babbling on about how you gave him the best blowjob of his life, Hoseok was, at the very least, cautiously skeptical.

“You’re such a drama queen.” Hoseok rolled his eyes before chugging down a bit more of his beer. He was nowhere near as intoxicated as Jimin was, and he wasn’t planning on changing that. It was a Wednesday night, for fuck’s sake. He had to leave some thrill to the end of the week. “It probably was like… alright. Good, even. But the best one ever? Please.”

“It was so much more than alright, dude.” Jimin threw his head over the couch’s back, looking like he just got washed up on the shore. His hair was a mess of clear strands, exploding on his head like a failed science fair experiment. “It was the best suck of my liiiiife. I wish she didn’t hate me so I could have that again.”

He scoffed. Hoseok had enough filter left in him to avoid telling Jimin that the reason why you hated him was entirely his fault — what did he expect from three weeks of ghosting? Besides, if the head was that good, he would surely stick around for just a bit longer than two months. “Sure. Like the time that you almost died riding a roller coaster.”

“Hey. I almost did.” Jimin’s eyes opened, presenting his friend with a dazed-out, unfocused brand of frustration. He was getting tired of not being taken seriously — didn’t Hosoek know that alcohol makes you more honest? He wasn’t making things up. Not when they were as serious as the well-being of his dick, or actual death. “It was some Final Destination bullshit, I’m telling you. Pieces of metal flying and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off, leaning closer to Jimin so he could take the almost-empty can of beer from his clumsy hands, and placed it on the center table. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, man. You have a class at ten tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, dude,” Jimin pressed on. It was past eleven and Hoseok only wanted to sleep, but the other boy was clearly clueless about the lack of mutual interest in that conversation. “Aren’t you two friends or something?”

“Kind of. It’s weird,” Hoseok answered. You two had lingered in a hazy friendship space for a long time now, and he didn’t know exactly how to explain your relationship. He didn’t really consider you two close by any means, but you weren’t strangers or casual friends either. To be honest, he hadn’t thought too much about it until that very moment. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimin sighed, fumbling against the sofa. Much to Hoseok’s delight, he was starting to get sleepy as well. “You could ask her to suck you off,” he mumbled, “then you can feel it for yourself.”

He laughed at that, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind if you think that’s not gonna backfire.”

He blinked heavily. “Hm? Why?”

Hoseok blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We aren’t that close, and we haven’t done anything remotely sexual before this. It would be super creepy.”

“That’s not true,” Jimin spoke lazily, as if the words were starting to get hard to find. There was a pause so long after his sentence that Hoseok thought his roommate had fallen asleep. “I know you guys made out like at the beginning of the semester. Taehyung told me so.”

He was going to murder Taehyung. “It wasn’t like that. We were both drunk and it was super awkward afterwards.” Hoseok got up from the couch, leaving Jimin to groan and spread out his legs over the cushions. “Listen, I’m glad you two had fun, and I’m sorry you ruined it. But I’m not gonna ask ____ to suck me off just so I can know if you’re being dramatic or not.”

Jimin smirked wickedly — or at least tried to, because his lack of facial control wasn’t doing him any favors. “Whatever you say,” he teased, “but I think you’re curious.”

Truth was: Hoseok was beyond curious. The cogs in his head had started to move, and his brain was evoking lewd images of you so fast that he could barely follow. He would be pretending if he said that he never saw you under that light before, but, after the mess that was your makeout session, he had forced himself to jump into the friendzone before he managed to make things worse.

Hoseok liked you very much, even if you two weren’t particularly close. He enjoyed spending time with you, he found you funny, smart, and way out of his league. But he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that you would actually say yes to sucking him off, especially so out of the blue.

“I’m not curious,” Hoseok lied through his teeth, and he wanted to change the subject so much that his head was starting to hurt. “You’re gonna sleep here?”

“Hm… yes… the couch is very comfortable.” Jimin closed his eyes and adjusted his body on the furniture. His baggy shirt was already halfway through his stomach and his pants had ran up to his waist, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving towards the door. He needed to get Jimin some blankets, because the other was surely not getting up for the rest of the night. It was bad enough to babysit him for those few hours of intoxication, but infinitely worse to make him chicken soup if he got sick. Been there, done that. “I’m sure the couch is great.”

Jimin’s voice was soft and sleepy when he spoke up again. Hoseok was already in the corridor, and he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I’m not talking about the couch.”

Hoseok went to Jimin’s bedroom and grabbed his pillow and the blanket from his undone bed. Meanwhile, scenarios ran wild inside his head, having you as the main star. He didn’t know what was taking over him, but he wasn’t so quick to ignore Jimin’s story. Hoseok was faced with a fantastic scenario of a perfect blowjob, and the idea that it was so close to him was making his pulse quicken. Again: it would be absurd to ask you to do that, regardless of the motive behind it, and he knew that it would be awful for your already-strange friendship.

No, he could never do that. He would not.

But like… what if it worked, and you magically accepted his request? And what if, by some wonderful moment, some millennial alignment of planets, Jimin wasn’t actually being hyperbolic and you actually had the ability to give incredible blowjobs? Could he really let it pass without giving it a shot?

He could see it as a scientific experiment, Hoseok thought, as a way to prove a hypothesis. It couldn’t hurt if he just—

Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up and forget about this.

Coming back to his senses, Hoseok strutted out of his roommate's bedroom and walked toward the living room. By the time he came back with the blanket and the pillow, Jimin was already deep asleep.

Against his best efforts, that conversation remained stuck to the back of his mind for the next two weeks. Hoseok would find himself going back and forth on the idea of you having some strange, Marvel-worthy superpower when it came to sucking dick and, worst of all, the idea that his skepticism was making him miss out on it. Jimin was exaggerated when it came to, well, pretty much everything, but that didn’t mean that he would be wrong about that specific subject. That would be a logical fallacy, and that was also something that Hoseok knew very well. Bless his late nights on Reddit for that.

Yet as the days moved along, and his curiosity was slowly turning into desire, he was forced to revisit the infamous night between the two of you, the one that Jimin had so mercilessly mentioned. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t surprising that your overconsumption of alcohol, added to the way that you two had grown close (both physically and mentally) had ended up with Hoseok laying on top of you, kissing the soul out of you and fondling your breasts in the middle of a party. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of either of your lives, but, well, it happened.

One way or another, the night didn’t move forward. Even if Hoseok already had a tent in his pants, you two were far too intoxicated to consent, and were quick to fall asleep before the situation could escalate. Bottom line: Hoseok woke up with your tit in his hand, a nightmarish hangover, and the decision that the You-Subject would have to stay on hold for some time.

And on hold it stayed. For an entire semester. And it would’ve remained that way if Jimin’s stupid mouth hadn’t started talking.

So after two weeks of self-inflicted psychological torture, Hoseok slipped a hangout invitation amidst your texts. If you saw any second intentions behind his “haven’t seen you in awhile, wanna hangout? ;)” you didn’t let it show. The problem was that you weren’t really in the mood to go out, especially since you had a big exam coming up, so Hoseok ended up convincing you that he would stay quiet if you let him go over to your place.

It was a bit harder not to notice the desperation in his proposal that time, but you ended up agreeing. Your thought process was that the boy would eventually realize that his hangout attempt was ridiculous and that he would leave you to study by yourself, and the two of you would reschedule that odd friendship session to when you weren’t drowning in textbooks.

The problem was that you had been stupid enough to believe that your friend would actually keep his mouth shut.

Hoseok was seated on the edge of your bed for so long that he was sure that his asscheeks were permanently imprinted on your sheets. Because he hated himself, he kept eyeing the digital clock to your right, and he was certain that he had spent the last fifty two minutes and thirty three seconds staring at the back of your head and trying to come up with a casual way to ask for a blowjob.

He had tried a few times already, and each one constituted of him being unable to finish his sentence, instead looking at you like BooBoo The Fool until you turned back around to face your disorganized desk, sighing and trying to concentrate on your work.

All things considered, he couldn’t actually believe he had escalated Jimin’s sailor tale to that point. He was out of his mind, that was a fact, and he had absolutely no clue how you would react once he (if he) found the words to ask you to sacrifice your mouth for science.

God, he was an idiot.

He cleared his throat and got ready to try one more time. “So… I…”

You sighed heavily and turned around on the chair. “Hobi, this is the fifth time you’re starting a sentence and not finishing it,” you said, annoyed. “Can you tell me what the problem is? I have a test in two days and you promised you wouldn’t interrupt me if you came over.”

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t like feeling like a kid being scolded, even if he kind of deserved that. Hoseok guessed it would be better to just take off the band-aid before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. “Let me just, like, explain the context of this. Otherwise it’s going to be even more strange.”

Dropping your pen, you fully swirled the chair around, crossing your hands over your legs. He wasn’t expecting your complete attention anytime soon, and the seriousness in your stare made his courage falter for a second. It was such a stupid idea, you’d just end up hating him like you did Jimin. “As long as you make it quick,” you told him.

Hoseok hesitated, running one hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so… like, a few weeks ago I was talking to Jimin,” he started, watching your face for any signal of an expression — confusion, disgust, anything. But he found nothing. “We were drunk, and he started talking about the time that you two were together. Like, sexually.”

You blinked, unfazed. “And?”

“And… he told me that you give, like, the best blowjobs in history,” the words left his mouth before he could fully digest them. This time, he got a reaction out of you — a light raise of your eyebrows. “And, no offense, but I didn’t believe him. You know how extra he is about some stuff. Most stuff.”

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to go on, but Hoseok was too busy swallowing his thoughts down and feeling like he would collapse at any given moment. You sighed. “So what? You wanted to tell me that you don’t believe in my blowjob abilities? That’s all? Can I go back to studying now?”

“No, that’s…” Now, things were starting to get complicated. Just take off the band-aid, Hoseok, don’t chicken out now. “I wanted to know if you could show me. Like, if you could suck me off. So I could... confirm that hypothesis.”

Every part of his brain was suddently hyperaware of how fucking stupid he just sounded. He had expected that another thick silence would follow, but his heart almost leaped out of your chest when you started laughing at him — like, full-chest, eyes closing, head rolling back laughing. “Are you serious?” You asked, taking one hand to cover your mouth before, at last, bursting out again. He felt like his ego was being stabbed with a rusty nail. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok. Took you all this time just to ask me if I could suck you off? For science?”

His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had to clear his throat before he found the force to answer you. “Yeah, I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he struggled to say, each word morphing into the next. His stomach had frozen up and the flight or fight response was starting to kick in. Had he really been that much of an idiot? When did his cock start dictating his words? “I… I know this is like, super creepy. I’m sorry. We can forget this ever happened and I’ll never talk to you again. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Suddenly sad, he waited as you settled back on the chair, wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye before you stared at him. There was still a smirk crawling up your lips, and he felt like the world was collapsing all around him as the silence expanded around the two of you. He looked at the digital clock: it had taken him precisely three minutes to ruin everything.

He sighed, shoulders falling. “Do you hate me? Why are you so quiet?”

You bit down on your lip, your eyes narrowing as you took his form in. Hoseok was hot: point blank. He was also nice, and respectful enough to realize that he might have overstepped a few lines with his request — and, even if you couldn’t really understand it, you also weren’t bothered by it. And you certainly didn’t hate him. In a way, you were almost flattered. You would’ve been more if the comment had come from anyone else but your Danny Phantom ex. But that was a different story.

The entire situation was just too funny to let it go. And, besides, you really wouldn’t mind sucking Hoseok off. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about that before.

“I’m... considering it,” you told him, watching as his face lit up in a mixture of confusion and joy. He looked like a kid seeing Santa for the first time. “If you promise to shut up and let me study, I’ll do it. And if you agree to never talk about it again.”

Hoseok blinked profusely, his mind short circuiting. “For real?”

“Yeah.” You raised from your chair, walking closer to your bed. Hoseok swallowed hard and leaned back, placing his hands on the mattress for support. “But do me a favor: if it’s not that good, don’t tell me. It’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, alright.” He swallowed dry, every neuron in his brain trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened. His mind was the Spongebob office being set on fire, and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with the anticipation booming in his chest. “I’m... not hard yet, though.”

“It’s okay.” You kneeled in front of him, placing your hands on his inner thighs and slightly pushing them apart. Hoseok quickly got the cue, and opened a bit more so you could comfortably place yourself between them. “Just... relax,” your voice was almost a whisper then, and he felt his soul trying to leave him. That was insane. “Let me take care of you.”

Your words managed to make him relax a bit, then he tensed all the way back at the feeling of your hands fumbling with his button. His breath hitched as you pulled the zipper down, fingers hooking on the edge of his pants before tugging them down his thighs.

He felt exposed as his pants fell like a puddle around his ankles, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as you leaned in. Hosoek felt like he was dreaming when you started nibbling at his skin, kissing and licking his inner thighs as you slowly made your way closer to his aching member.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he barely got out before sighing, the tingles of your caresses on his skin shooting directly towards his cock, already semi-hard.

You flicked your eyes up at him, humming against his thigh muscles. You were now so dangerously close to his underwear that he thought he would lose consciousness. “Were you daydreaming about it or something?” You teased.

Maybe in a different position, he would’ve lied about it. But the truth came out before he could hold it back. “Ever since Jimin told me that, yeah,” he said.

“Hmm… hope I live up to the expectation, then,” you purred, looking up at him with those doll-like eyes. Hoseok suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, his entire body burning in desire and expectancy. You looked like another one of his horny daydreams, but you were kneeling right there, in arms reach, and he didn’t know how he would deal with what was about to ensue.

Your mouth was hovering above his clothed cock before he could notice and, delicately, you leaned down to place a kiss on it. The touch was tender, almost numb with the fabric standing between you two, and yet Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip as one of your hands enveloped his erection. He watched, mesmerized, as you started lazily stroking him through his underwear, leaning your head to the side so you could place heavy kisses on him, at times giving his tip a few kitten licks until it was covered by a thin layer of your saliva.

The sensation left him on edge, silently begging for more. By the time you moved back so you could undress him, Hoseok was a mess of shallow breaths and heavy swallows; his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as pleasure started to build up at the corners of his perception. Biting back a moan of relief, Hoseok raised his hips as you slowly pulled his underwear downward, allowing for his cock to spring free from its confinement. You had done a good job teasing him, because it was already fully hard when it bounced against his abdomen, red-tipped and leaking.

His gaze oscillated between your face and his cock, watching for any reaction as you took one hand to his length, squeezing him firmly. “Fuck,” he let out a grunt, his overwhelmed body responding to the smallest of touches.

You smirked at his reaction, taking a quick glimpse at his devastated features before moving back to what you were doing. Hoseok was so cute, you thought, liking the way he was so responsive.

A shudder ran up Hoseok’s body when your tongue came out between your lips, placing delicate licks on his base. He loved the feeling of your warm muscle against his hardened member, his mind growing eager as you began tracing a path upwards, flattening your tongue against him. His breathing was ragged by the time that you reached his crown, a hum escaping your throat as you lazily swirled your tongue around his tip, covering him with your saliva.

You took your time caressing his slit with your mouth, waiting until he was cursing and panting before you finally wrapped your lips around him. At first, you only took his tip in your mouth, sucking so slowly that Hoseok whined and buckled his hips from the bed, trying to make you move faster.

Wordlessly, you simply placed your palm against his thigh and pressed him back down. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do, Hoseok accepted your order and settled back against the mattress, grunting as you continued to tease him.

“Please, put it all in,” he begged, starting to lose his trail of thought. “This is torture.”

And maybe another day you would have taken a bit more time torturing him, but, that afternoon, you were kind of in a rush to finish studying. So you complied.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” His eyes shut and his head was thrown back as you fully sank down on his cock, your tongue flat against him. Before he could stop himself, his hand flew to your hair, yanking at the strands as you moved back up, your hand pumping the parts of him that you couldn’t reach.

“God, your mouth feels so great…” He moaned, back arching as you reached his tip once again, licking it before sinking back down — you took him just a bit deeper that time, and the motion didn’t pass by unnoticed. He was really starting to believe Jimin, and he wondered if maybe he should’ve been more worried about the entire rollercoaster situation. “Ah, that’s it. Just like that.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him cry out, desperate. Hoseok couldn’t hold himself back from moving closer to the edge of the bed, his other hand clenching your bedsheets between his fingers as you continued to swallow his cock like it belonged in the hot confinement of your mouth.

“Oh— oh my god, baby,” he grunted, pulling at the strands of your hair. His mind was starting to get hazy, his chest fluttering in a mess of sighs and heavy breaths every time that you sank down on his member; every time you flicked your tongue against his sentitive slit or pumped his base. “That’s really good, you take my cock so well.”

You looked up just to see the mess that Hoseok had turned into. With his mouth parted and eyes glazed over, he looked like he was about to fall apart at any second. He was watching you in complete awe, his eyebrows falling to form a beautiful frown of concentration; tongue coming out to lick his lips. He was so fucked out that you felt yourself getting riled up by his image, a pool of wetness accumulating between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this.” He exhaled, unaware of his own words. Hoseok was too busy following your swollen, redden lips as they wrapped around his member, your cheeks hollowing after you sucked him with all that you had. Even the small amount of droll around your mouth was enough to make him throb in your hold, a grunt escaping him. “With these — fuck — those pretty lips around my cock, shit. I could watch you forever.”

You hummed around his member again at his words, the vibrations shooting directly at his core, where a rising heat had dangerously grown stronger, signaling his upcoming orgasm. Hoseok loved the way you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself, moaning and whimpering around his cock as you took all of him in your mouth, eyes closing every time he throbbed inside you. The eagerness in which you took him in, like you were starving for his cock, was one of the filthiest images that Hoseok had ever seen, and it was one that he knew would haunt his dreams for the years to come.

When you removed his cock from your mouth with a dirty wet sound, Hoseok was about to complain before he saw you licking down his length, one of your hands holding his cock away from your face as your tongue started to play with his balls. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcomed one, and it kept him on edge for a little while longer while you played with him.

With a timid whimper, you looked up at him as you licked your way back up to his tip. The image was so hot that he almost fainted, a deep moan escaping his throat when you took him back inside your delicious mouth.

And the truth was clearer than Hoseok had ever expected: Jimin was right.

“Fuck, babe, how did you get this good?” Hoseok grunted, trying his best to focus on the picture-perfect image of your lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. He could tell that his release was starting to build up at an alarming rate, his thighs growing weaker every time you took him inside you. “Oh my- Ngh! Fuck! Oh my god!”

Hoseok’s mind was wiped clean when he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hips buckling up as your throat clenched around him. He was pretty sure he was in heaven then — if he focused, he could hear angels singing all around him — , his pleasure overtaking every cell of his body as you continued sucking the soul out of him.

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he begged, his voice much higher than before. You didn’t need to be asked twice, because, within a second, he was crying out at the feeling of your throat wrapping around his cock one more time; his hands holding tightly to the roots of your hair. The only reason why Hoseok hadn’t started fucking your mouth yet was because he wanted to have you in control, giving him the best head of his life without any interruption. “Fuck, fuck— Baby, you’re so fucking good at this, fuck.”

There was a vague raising of his hips to meet your movements, making him hit the back of your throat again and again, the lewd sounds you were making filling the room. Nothing in his life had ever compared to that instant, he had ever felt a pleasure as great as he did at that point, and he knew it was about to snap.

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed, finally closing his eyes and letting the pleasure take over. “Fuck, you’re so good, I’m gonna—“

Hoseok filled your mouth with his cum, dripping down your throat when you swallowed around him. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling, and that time he was unable to hold himself back from thrusting up against your mouth, trying to prolong that divine sensation for as long as he could before, at last, collapsing against the mattress with a final, shaky moan.

He barely heard you when you got up to your feet, his mind floating above his body as he tried to get himself back together. With the little force that he still had inside him, Hoseok leaned on his elbows and stared at you like you were made of gold. “Fuck, ____.” He breathed out, and the only thing he could say was, “What the fuck?”

You giggled at his reaction, thumb cleaning a bit of cum that had painted the corner of your mouth. “I appreciate your feedback,” you teased, pointing over your shoulder, to where your desk stood, forgotten. “Now that you have your answer, can I study in peace?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he struggled to say. “I’ll... stay quiet.”

You smiled brightly. “Thanks!”

He thought about thanking you right back for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but he thought that would make everything much more pathetic. So he didn’t.

Hoseok eventually found the motivation within him to put his cock back inside his underwear, clumsily pulling his pants back up. He found himself in the same position he was before everything went down: dumbfounded, staring at the back of your head as you worked on your textbook. The red numbers on the clock told him that just ten minutes had passed, and yet his life had completely changed.

All that he wanted was to return the favor — it was the fair exchange, after all. Hoseok sat up at the edge of the bed and spoke up, filled by a newfound courage. “Wait. Don’t you want me to take ca—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

His mouth fell shut and his courage deflated just as quickly. Maybe another time.

#hoseok #smut #hoseok smut #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bangtan boys #jung hoseok #pwp #drabble #smut drabble #x you #x reader #reader insert #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #college au

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

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Hi, idk if this makes since but can i request a oneshot of diluc x reader where he finds out his s/o used to be an assassin from like inazuma in the past (like when they were young) like a dangerous one from an old acquaintance s/o bumped into? Sorry if this doesnt make sense or it lacks detail </3 hope you have a good day though ❤️

Cloud immediately goes back to angst after fluff headcanons lmao. Iconic of me.

Also once I’ve emptied the ask box I’m planning on doing a nth-hundred special cause I think they’re cool so hopefully my box will be open soon again :)

Pairings; Diluc x reader

Warning(s); death mentions, angst, comfort

Keep reading under the cut!

You had only wanted to spend your paid leave in Mondstat for the month. But here you are five years later, ‘retired’ from your position as one of two-dozen of Baals personal assassins.

Sure, you’d never be able to return home to your lack of family and lack of friends. But, you’ve made a life here in Mondstat and you’re more then content on never going back to the old life back in Inazuma.

You had left before Inazuma had made its borders difficult to cross, hence why you took your vacation in the city of freedom. In the decade of being an assassin you had slowly lost your need for blood, especially those of abroad diplomats and even politicians that Baal no longer wanted in power but didn’t want to make a diplomatic matter out of. Your vision helped make the deaths look more natural than they were.

Your partner of four years, Diluc, knows that you’re from Inazuma. He had originally met you when you were on holiday. But the fact of your assassin work stayed unspoken of. You had never expected your past to catch up with you. Especially considering your home countries current isolationism.

“[name]?” you hear your name spoken from across the street in Mondstat, you look to the source of the call to notice a woman who looked after you while you were in Inazuma

“No way” you say to yourself, a confused Diluc stood beside you. You embrace the woman with a smile “It’s been too long” you tell her

“You should have sent a letter to be” the woman says sternly after backing out the hug “When I received news that you were never coming back I had presumed that a contract when wrong” she confesses her features lightening

“I was given the taste of freedom and I took it” you grin at the woman

“Is the taste of freedom red, dark and handsome?” the woman jests turning to Diluc who outstretches a hand, the woman shakes it “And who is the name of the man who took an assassins heart?” she asks. You shoot the woman a glare at the lack of her secrecy. Diluc too stiffens at the name of your previous occupation

“Diluc” you answer for him “And all that nonsense is far behind me” you tell the woman sternly who puts her hands up in defence

“I’m not sure, your colleagues tell me Baal is rather angry at your resignation to this day” the woman tells you cocking an eyebrow

“Assassin?” Diluc questions looking at you, you don’t answer him but choose to continue to glare at the woman

“Hm, that’s why you’re here? To kill me or to take me back?” you question stepping forwards towards the woman you would have once considered a sister. She sighs

“I couldn’t kill you swee-” you interrupt her

“Tell Baal to use the other 23 to do her dirty work” you pause and go to turn around but stop “You go back right now and tell her that. And if I see another one of you or the assassins in Mondstat again I wont hesitate to put to use the skills Baal groomed me for” you add pushing a finger in her face before walking away, a confused Diluc trailing behind you.

The two of you don’t talk about the events until after dinner, mainly because it takes you that long to calm down from the events that transpired. You look to Diluc, ready to take anything and everything that comes your way. You did hide a crucial detail from him, especially when he was so open about his past.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, I’ll answer them all” you tell Diluc sitting opposite him. Diluc processes your statement.

“An assassin?” you nod “From Inazuma?” you nod again “Would you care to tell me why you never told me?” he asks staring you down

“Well when I first got here I had to keep my identity a secret, especially to keep my holiday as peaceful as possible, but after I left I just wanted to bury it” you explain “I had been contemplating leaving and starting life anew for a few years and this was the first place that I could pursue the dream of being free” you add “I didn’t want to be defined by what I was”

Diluc nods, you’re not sure how to read him, he’s put on a façade that you had grown familiar with when you first met him. You’re not sure if this is temporary or he’s going to kick you out the manor the second he stops questioning you.

“I was also scared of losing you” you confess with a chuckle “I know your feelings about threats to Mondstat, and I didn’t want to be read as one, I was scared” you add turning your attention away from Diluc, you miss his eyes softening for a moment. “There were so many times I was going to tell you, but every time I tried I had the picture of you just leaving me there, or worse you decide to eliminate a potential threat” you sigh wiping your eyes. Diluc hums at your words letting you know he’s listening

“I would have like to have learnt from you though” he confesses shifting forwards to touch your shoulder, you lean into the touch

“I’m sorry” you apologise and look up to him “I understand if you want me to leave” you tell him. Diluc shakes his head and pats his lap for you to sit on. You oblige

“I trust you enough” he confesses “Which might be a little stupid but I love you too much to just throw you out” he adds wiping a stray tear, you hug him tight

“I love you too” you tell him from the bottom of your heart

This is going to hurt a whole lot more when this charade is over

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin diluc #diluc

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gunkreads · 2 years

Text

HASH TAG LONG POST, KIDS. PRESS J

Ok more musing on decisions, or lack thereof, Jordan made:

I made a post a while ago about how interesting it is that Jordan ended the series with the Seanchan right at the crux of a massive societal revelation: the sul’dam issue. A load-bearing pillar, as I called it, of their civilization has just had a sledgehammer taken to it. The option to not be a shit person has just been proffered to every single Seanchan; the way they see the world and the Power has been completely changed. If, of course, Tuon exercises that tiny spark of morality inside her cold, empty chest cavity and publicizes this information (or at least refrains from suppressing it).

But with the specific example of the sul’dam and damane aside, there are SO MANY mysteries in Wheel of Time that are just never given a clear, explicit, in-text answer. Sure, stuff like “what the hell is up with the Finn” and “who’s the mystery desert lady (can’t remember her name)” can be explained, tentatively, with a long charlie-day web of photos and yarn and thumbtacks, but the bottom line is that we never got an answer. And, for the purposes of the story written by Robert Jordan, we never fuckin will. Sure, Harriet McDougal or Sanderson or Judkins or someone else entrusted with the world can come along and say “oh, well, here’s the answer I can give you based on everything I know about what Jordan wanted” but we’ll never get a pure answer straight from the horse’s mouth.

And personally, I think this is good. Before I explain straight up, an anecdote:

In the D&D campaign I’m in, DM’d by my best friend, we recently had about one and a half “down sessions” where we were completely adrift between plot points. We had escaped through the screaming portal, we had stolen a cart and disguised ourselves as guards, and we’d made it out of the city. We were on the road in the middle of the desert, headed down a major thoroughfare between this oasis resort city and the nearest actual civilization. Our DM had like a dozen possible encounters planned out, so we rolled for them at random, and we rolled a 20, running into a magical merchant on the side of the road. We bought stuff, talked, and left; we came across a group of cultists dragging a cart barefoot across the desert because their god liked righteous suffering. We camped out next to a traveling party, finding out the next morning that they’d all disappeared and the inside of one of their carts was absolutely caked in blood. We never found out what The Fuck Was Up with any of these things.

And you know what? It was the most fun I’ve had in that campaign so far. So many stories are all meat and bone, all an interconnected web of plots and foreshadowing and characters, where every single little thing will tie in to the main plot and the end of the world. I love those stories, don’t get me wrong, but they just don’t make sense for fourteen fucking books! There’s too much shit in the world for everything to matter; for everyone to matter. Genuinely, over a long enough period of time, a story with no loose ends starts to feel dead, or at least overly fatalistic. Really? Everybody comes across the main characters? Every place they visit is a MacGuffin vault? Admittedly, a good author can maintain this “no-loose-ends” style for a LONG fuckin time, but the length of Wheel of Time is kind of prohibitive in that regard.

Thesis: Wheel of Time needs unsolved mysteries, unexplored lands, and unexplained phenomena to seem alive. Logical-leap restrictions aside, tying everything up in a neat bow at the end would make the world feel less lived-in. If I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Dragon’s Peace would last forever, that the Aiel would find their place in the world, that the Seanchan would cease slavery, that the Sharans would... idk, do whatever Sharans do, then the ending would’ve left me absolutely dead inside. Not only would it directly contradict the ol’ whumptacular Veins of Gold soliloquy--precluding the need for a second chance--it would tell me that the Pattern ends here. What more’s to be woven, now that we’ve solved every problem and met every person and trod every millimeter of land? This ain’t the Travels of Jain Farstrider!

No, Jordan isn’t so dumb in his outline, nor is Sanderson so egotistical in his writing. Unless the world ends at the end of your story, life goes on. The job of an author of hundreds of characters, at the end of the story they’re actually writing, is to write the prologue for the rest of those characters’ lives.

And Jordan, the bastard, did The Pipe Thing, the final cherry on top, the final chorus, the coup de grace. The Pipe Thing is, no joke, my absolute favorite aspect of the entire series. Nothing compares to The Pipe Thing. Zero explanation. Dozens of logical explanations, none quite flawless. I have never, in my goddamn entire ass life, had to reread the final two pages of a book that many fucking times. Admittedly it was four in the morning, but still.

#wheel of time #wot

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

heyy sal ^-^ i know this seems a lil sudden but do u mind givin some comfort hcs or somethin with tsumu n an s/o wif overbearing family who's been feelin really shitty and unmotivated lately?? am sorry if this is a lil much but i have been feeling . Not good as of late ... and i really miss tsumu idk :( maybe a lil bit of hurt/comfort and cuddles and a night out 2 mcdonalds or something would be nice if ur up to it <3 ur writin is so amazing ilysm !!

hi lovely!! found it hehe,,, here’s your comfort fic! i hope you like it! mwah <3

miya atsumu is a great texter.

not just in the sense that his ability to hold conversations is immaculate, and not just because your messages between him are overflowing with extravagant voice notes and an endless amount of objectively unattractive up close photos of his face. it’s because he always, always, without a shadow of doubt, no matter the hour, day, week, month, replies within the second. you’d jokingly accused him of being addicted to his phone, until you realized, aside his brother, you were the only exception — that’s also because he has some ridiculous ringtone for your calls and messages, but you pretend to be oblivious of that fact.

as you grip your phone with shaky hands and stare at your screen through bleary eyes, you watch as your message gets delivered, then read almost immediately after.

can i please be with you right now?

a grey bubble appears, hovering at the bottom of your screen, three dots rolling evenly within it. it then disappears, and in its place a message materializes.

of course. should i pass by or leave my window open?

already, your chest feels lighter.

fifteen minutes later, he’s before you, donning a simple shirt and sweatpants, sneakers on his feet. his smile is bright when his eyes meet yours, and his arms are home when they come to wrap around you, pulling you in close, embracing you tightly. your own arms easily slip around his waist, the feel of him beneath the thin shirt grounding and steadying. you release a shaky breath just as he squeezes you reassuringly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“heya, gorgeous,” he softly greets you, leaning back slightly to take a look at you. hesitantly, slowly, your head lifts off of his chest, arms still wrapped around him. his smile visibly falters at the sight of you, it saddens and softens, but it doesn’t disappear. although a little forcefully, he urges his smile to widen, and brings a hand up to the string of your hoodie, tugging and teasing, “nice hoodie.”

against all odds, you scoff amusingly, rolling your eyes. “yeah, you’d think so,” you retort, and he laughs lightly.

gently, he twists you around to pull you to his side, an arm tossed around and over your shoulder. “so, what’re we thinkin’?” he wonders aloud. “convenience store ramen?” atsumu tilts his head towards you, and when your nose scrunches in disapproval, his does too in mimicry, and then he shakes his head. “convenience store ice cream?” he says it as if it’s a genius idea, a victorious grin on his face, until he’s met with another disapproving look.

“m’not really hungry, ‘tsumu,” you begin to argue, despite knowing how fruitless the attempt is.

“tha’s not what i’m askin’.” he feigns offense as he says this, before he tilts his head back, thoughtfully humming. you watch him in both slight amusement and endearment. he’s really cute, you think, with the slight pout to his lips and the messiness of his hair. it’s obvious that he’d just rolled out of bed after having taken a shower, if not for his hair then for the comforting smell you sense. he’s sturdy by your side, body easy and relaxed against you, leaning into your touch just as much as you lean into him. he hums again, speaking to himself in hushed tones, and you think again, he’s really, really cute.

“you’re really cute, ‘tsumu,” you voice, and atsumu stops his deep and thoughtful monologue about the importance of a decision like choosing where to eat at eleven pm. when he turns to face you, you offer him an easy smile, before urging him arm tighter around you again, and continuing your walk.

“ya think i’m cute?”

“well, i am dating—“

his arm falls from around you to his side, and he halts in his steps.

“cute?!”

you pause, turning to the side to fix him with a humored, confused stare. he’s wearing a shocked expression, eyes wide and mouth slightly parting. it makes you want to giggle. “is that a bad thing?” you wonder.

with a whine, atsumu deflates, his arms tossed to his side, hands slapping his thighs as if he were a toddler throwing a tantrum. “yer cute,” he begins to argue. “yer cute ‘n pretty n’ gorgeous ‘n very hot.”

you quirk an eyebrow. “thanks?”

“but i’m handsome, babe. devilishly han’some if you will. sexy. charming. hot—“

“thought i was hot?”

“m’not taking you to mcdonald’s anymore.”

you gasp, reaching out for his forearms and gripping them tightly. atsumu runs warm, always has and possibly always will, that it’s always a welcome feeling touching him. unless you were in the middle of summer beneath a thousand blankets, but that’s not your current concern. “how did you know i was craving nuggets?” you wonder, exasperated and in awe.

he lifts up a finger and tilts his chin back, as if prepared to make a very important note. “not only am i devilishly handsome—“

“‘tsumu.”

“you’re always craving nuggets, doll.”

a fair argument, you guess.

“— and i’m psychic.”

you smack his arm.

“finger. guns, babe. finger guns!”

you lift your hand up in motion of a gun, but instead, you flip your boyfriend off, sipping slowly through the staple yellow and white straw. condensation from the cup in your grip drips to your knuckles, slowly trailing down your hand.

your gesture is met with a deadpan expression before atsumu twists around away from you. he’s facing a bench in the middle of an empty public park, his phone propped up against the back of the bench and opened up on the camera app. in the small lower left corner of the screen is a small preview of a picture you’d just taken together: it’s cheesy and honestly a little cringe, with atsumu doing a ridiculous pose with finger guns, and a you with a hesitant peace sign. it’s what led you to this moment— he just really wants you to do some finger guns with him.

facing the phone, atsumu bends down and clicks on his screen, while you take another long sip. upon buying a ridiculous amount of fries, nuggets, and two burgers, the two of you had walked for a few moments, not so quietly because atsumu has the long lived habit of never knowing when to quite stop talking, until you’d reached the park. beneath a dying tree, the two of you sat and ate, watched the stars through the branches of the aged tree while atsumu explained you the ridiculous justification behind punching his brother earlier in the day during practice. after a while, he’d gotten the great idea of taking pictures together, despite the terrible lighting, obscure setting, and not the most fitting choice of outfits.

you’re slightly lost in thought, and honestly atsumu is a little too fast for his own good, that you don’t notice him barreling towards you until he’s right before you. you’re too late, and suddenly he’s kneeling, arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting you up high. he leaves you with no choice but to quickly wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in close until your cheek is pressed to his. he holds you tight to him and you barely see the flash turn off before you’re lifting yourself up again, staring down at him with a fake scowl.

“why would you do that?” you scold him, pinching at his arm as he drops you to your feet again.

he mumbles a small ouch at your pinch, rubbing at his sore arm as he defends himself, “well ya weren’t doing the finger guns!”

“finger guns are stupid.”

“yer face is stupid.”

“your face is stupid.”

“like hell it is.” rather stupidly, atsumu spreads his arms wide, showcasing himself. “i’ve got so much to offer.” to humble him, you reach out, hand splaying on his stomach and fingers wiggling. he’s quick to react, curling in on himself slightly and grasping your wrist tightly, fixing you with a warning, cold stare. “do not.”

you giggle wickedly, and wiggle your fingers again. atsumu shrieks, holding your wrist away from his stomach.

it’s a good thing you’ve got two hands.

it’s nearly two in the morning when he first yawns. unintentionally, guilt starts to creep up your spine, settling heavy on your shoulders and chest. atsumu notices, as he always does, but instead of mentioning it, he shuffles down on the bench, and leans slightly towards you until his head rests on your shoulder. with the feel of him against you once more, you will yourself to relax, and reach for the hand closest to you, intertwining your fingers with his.

“yer so fun,” he mumbles, and you feel the vibrations from his voice. as he sighs contently, you finally do properly relax, and shuffle low until your head rests above his.

“you are too,” you respond. “only when you’re not doing finger guns.”

he scoffs. “ya love me ‘n my finger guns.” he lifts up a hand, and clicks his tongue as he motions a gun. jokingly, you slap at his hand, pushing it away.

the wind whistles softly, calmly, and atsumu’s hair tickles your cheek.

“i don’t wanna go home,” you admit with a small voice, smaller than you’d wish.

atsumu presses himself closer to you, thumb tracing at the back of your hand. “we can jus’ stay here,” he offers. “sunrises are pretty.”

you hum thoughtlessly.

“we can watch it from my room too, if ya’d like.”

your heart stills, and you swallow thickly. “you sure?”

he nods. “you’ll always have a home with me.” it’s not an offer, but a fact.

twisting your head, you place a kiss to the top of his head, the familiar scent of his shampoo overwhelming your senses for a moment. “i do love you and your finger guns,” you whisper against his hair, reveling in the loud laugh that leaves his lips as you twist your head back to rest it against his again.

quietly, sincerely, you laugh with him.

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu comfort #miya atsumu comfort #atsumu comfort #atsumu x reader #sal's fluff tag <3

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