#and it's not like they would have had good sex education if any at all to have taught lawrence that it's normal ;~; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 6 months

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.

୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

let’s get one thing straight.

not all daddy’s girls are dumb.

on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.

but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.

perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.

it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.

and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.

“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked.

it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree.

you were such a good person.

turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…

“can i come?”

with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.”

“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.

rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.”

you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).

however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with.

instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried.

“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?”

“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips.

megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him.

you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan.

he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice.

fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.”

he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too.

you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it?

megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time.

finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”

the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.

the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.

your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress!

the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi.

he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head.

“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.”

like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.”

fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?”

“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.”

“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.”

flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips.

“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly.

you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.

everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal.

this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body.

“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“

he lets go of your wrists.

tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree.

“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.

you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company.

“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…”

he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.”

fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”

it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now.

“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.”

his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.

“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?”

the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.”

heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly.

“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze.

the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.”

you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more.

“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?”

“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.

he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.”

fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.”

he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him.

because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all.

“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.”

the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later.

pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?”

he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease.

they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you.

“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers.

he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.

tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.”

you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.

you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last.

“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs.

a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.

“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.

you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless.

now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today.

your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself. “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.”

his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand.

“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself.

this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?”

you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there.

“fuck…yes.”

“and you won’t touch me?”

“not until i’m satisfied, princess.”

and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs.

“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”

he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.

even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.

“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”

megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.

one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.

each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.

“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.

sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.

“s-shut up.”

“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.”

he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.

you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.”

you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.

you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs.

clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much.

“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?”

nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.

he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi.

your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.

there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb.

“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”

your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.

“f-fuck, g-gumi!”

fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you. “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.”

your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.”

fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.”

the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.

he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you.

“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit.

“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.”

megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response.

“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”

“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”

the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.

your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.”

despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.

“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.”

that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.

“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.”

he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.

“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect.

“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.

he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.”

your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?”

“really. if it means that much to you.”

sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.”

“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?”

“maybe.”

“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest.

you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight.

except this time, you’re not as clueless.

you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.

8K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 2 months

Note

hii!! i hope ure having a great day

i just wanted to request loser!scoups hehe I RLLY LOVED CHANS VERSION AND WAS HOPING TO SEE MORE 🫶🏻 anyways take your time to answer when ure free, thanku!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2686

part 1, part 2

a/n: hii thank u for requesting <33 i never considered loser!cheol before but ngl i loved writing it hehe i hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

despite popular belief, seungcheol was actually a bit of a loser.

okay, maybe his appearance didn't necessarily fit the bill (with his slicked back hair and bulging muscles), but everything else about choi seungcheol truly screamed loser.

even with a large group of fratboy friends, seungcheol was still the loser of the friend group, being the only one who had opted out of joining the frat and who spent every day and night studying rather than ever attending any of his friends' parties.

this was all by choice, he swears! seungcheol was just far too serious about his education to let anything become a distraction. and it had always been like this, even dating back all the way to middle school (jeonghan could vouch for this, having known him basically since diapers). due to this, seungcheol had always been kind of a black sheep in any and every social situation he ever found himself in. as a result, seungcheol ended up becoming shy, awkward, utterly embarrassing in social situations, and as jeonghan liked to put it, a 'virgin loser.'

even if seungcheol wanted to disagree with his friend, he knew he was right. here he was, twenty-one years of age and still a lonely virgin who had never even felt the touch of a woman's hand in his. he'd had opportunities before, set ups orchestrated by his friends, but he always managed to fuck them up. due to jeonghan's outgoing disposition, the girls he usually set him up with were set for a surprise upon meeting a his friend seungcheol, who could not even hold eye contact for more then twelve seconds (he counted).

except this year that would all change.

now in his senior year of college, seungcheol had an epiphany.

on the very first week of senior year, upon being assigned a new dorm-mate due to his previous one transfering, seungcheol finally saw a mirror of himself.

his new roommate was, for lack of a better term, a fucking loser (the term being courtesy of jeonghan once again). seungcheol had barely met the guy, yet he could not stand one more moment of conversation with him. not only was he a know-it-all who could only ever talk about academics, but he was maybe even more of a loser virgin than seungcheol was (at least that's what seungcheol was able to assess from the three separate occasions in which he walked in on his roommate watching porn in the common area of the dorm). his hygiene was terrible and his wide-rimmed glasses made him look like the typical nerd in every high school movie. everything about him was what seungcheol feared to one day become.

this one week of torture had been enough for seungcheol to finally take jeonghan up on his offer to join his frat and subsequently move into the frat house. granted, jeonghan had to break a few rules to allow a new pledge with zero obstacles in the way, but jeonghan was just charming enough to get away with it.

seungcheol had already spent the past 10+ years with perfect grades and pristine extra curriculars, so he figured that even if he completely flunked these last two semesters, he would still be a shoe-in for the masters program he'd been eyeing since arriving to university.

so now seungcheol was immersed in the frat lifestyle, though he still felt a bit out of place, which unfortunately for cheol, was something his good friend jeonghan noticed immediately. but this would only be a problem for a short while.

unbeknownst to seungcheol, jeonghan had orchestrated a plan for seungcheol's first frat party. it all started with giving seungcheol a bit of a new look. jeonghan insisted on throwing out most of cheol's 'nerdy clothes' (admittedly, he did dress like an old man at times), traded in his thick-rimmed glasses for some better fitting specs and lastly, gave cheol a trim to better frame his face. after all these changes, cheol felt more confident but still did not feel ready to attend one of the frat's well-known parties.

the decision was, however, taken for him, as he found himself in attendance to one just a few days later. also unknown to cheol was that jeonghan had been playing cupid once more, scouting to see which one of his closer girl-friends would be a good fit for his friend. and of course, his attention immediately fell on you.

jeonghan had only known you since the last semester of his junior year, in which the two of you had partnered up for a project that took up the entire fifteen weeks of instruction. the two of you hit it off pretty easily, but you hadn't quite caught his attention in a non-platonic way.

but you had caught someone else's.

although it had only been a fleeting moment, jeonghan caught onto every single look and action that had occurred the day in which seungcheol had accidentally interrupted a study session between the two of you.

he had easily noticed the blush in cheol's cheeks upon seeing you for the first time, along with the way he shyly checked you out when you weren't paying attention. what had surprised him the most, though, had been the way you checked out his friend as he went to leave the room. that had been enough for jeonghan to decide to play matchmaker between the two of you if the opportunity ever arose. and that was now.

getting the two of you alone was not difficult, but jeonghan knew better. he knew that sending the two of you into an empty room, completely blind to whatever he was planning was just a bad idea. so jeonghan decided that for the first time in his life, he would not scheme. he would simply set up the scene and leave the rest to you.

when jeonghan first came up to you a few days back and let you know about his friend's crush on you, you had been pleasantly surprised. what had shocked you the most, though, had been the revelation that jeonghan's cute friend was actually an inexperienced virgin. jeonghan told you to please not bring it up to cheol, but that he felt it was best you knew so you didnt feel caught off guard should you ever try to hit him up (which he knew you would). what jeonghan didnt realize was that this fact excited you more than you'd like to admit.

planting that seed was more than enough to get you looking for cheol in the empty room jeonghan had said he'd be in (okay, maybe he did scheme a little), prepared to deflower the pretty nerd you'd been thinking about every time you started to notice him sitting alone in the library every other day.

you had dressed to the nines, donning a red slip dress that gave you breathing room but still accentuated every part of your body you wished to stand out. ready and confident, you quietly opened the door to what you assumed to be jeonghan's room, knowing you'd find his pretty friend inside.

sitting alone on the bed, seemingly trying to psych himself up as he whispered affirmations to himself, the boy jumped back upon your unexpected intrusion, with his hears instantly turning red at realizing who you were.

you were jeonghan's pretty friend. the one seungcheol had had some unbecoming thoughts about immediately after seeing you in jeonghan's room last semester (and subsequently seeing you around campus as his eyes would unknowingly always search for you). and you looked .... fuck. and you were alone in han's room with him .... and you had closed the door right behind you .... and now you had walked all the way over to where he was sitting at the edge of the bed, not shocked at all to see him there ....

"hi," you smiled at him.

"h– hey."

"are you okay? how come you're here all alone?", you sat next to him on the bed, damning all boundaries, apparently.

"oh, i ... just a little nervous, i guess."

"yeah? of what?", despite the unexpectedness of the situation, you seemed genuinely interested, so seungcheol responded.

"it's, uh, my first party as a member of the frat."

"oh, really? i had no idea you were a member of the frat. that's pretty cool, seungcheol."

"you know my name?"

you scoot closer, smile still on your face, "yeah, of course i know your name. do you now mine?"

"oh, i, uh, yeah ..."

"okay, so we know each other. do you maybe want a friend to go out there with? maybe that would ease your nerves," your hand had somehow made its way to his thigh, now invading his personal space a bit. except he couldnt find it in himself to complain.

"t– that's fine, i, uh, i have han and– "

"but arent i better company?"

"y– you're ..."

"can i be honest with you, seungcheol?", you didnt wait for a response, "hannie told me that maybe you needed some help. that i could maybe help you out?"

"help? what type of help do you mean?"

you leaned in even closer, "do you want me to show you?"

"i ..."

"all you have to say is 'yes', cheollie ...", you breathed out now close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips.

he nodded and made an embarrassing noise of affirmation, completely giving up on speaking.

it was embarrassing how easily he let you turn him into a puddle, not even bothering to question how or why jeonghan orchestrated this situation. but that didnt matter as he finally felt the lips of a woman against his own – your lips; the lips of the girl he'd been crushing on from afar, jealous that maybe you'd become more than jeonghan's classmate. this was a clear declaration that his assertions had been incorrect.

seungcheol wasn't sure what to do with his hands (or with his tongue) as he kissed you. he felt you smile against his lips at his whimper, making feel that maybe you were making fun of him. when you pulled away, he feared that maybe he'd been right.

"cheollie, let me show you, yeah? just let me– yeah, like that", you positioned him in a way that would allow you to straddle him as you said this, wrapping his arms around your waist, "okay now let me show you how to kiss me, okay? just open your mouth a bit for me and let me teach you. then you can try it on me."

with that, you leaned into his open mouth, sticking your tongue inside as you played with his own, sucking on it and causing his eyes to roll back, another embarrassing moan leaving his lips.

"do you wanna try it now?", you asked as you pulled away.

he feared his voice would betray him, so he just nodded before leaning in.

seungcheol mimicked your previous actions, though his were a bit sloppier and more desperate. he whined at the way you sighed and pulled at his hair due to the way in which he suckled at your tongue and squeezed his fingers on your hips.

eventually you began to also kiss him back, making it a battle between your tongues all the while seungcheol tried to keep up.

suddenly your hips began to move against his own, making him groan in pleasure. after that, you leaned over him, causing the two of you to lay on the bed as you practically rode him through your clothes.

cheol couldnt help his cries of pleasure at feeling you press against his now swollen member. he didnt want the feeling to end, so he grabbed onto your hips and helped you in your movements, even grinding his own hips upwards to match you.

"cheollie ... do you want more? hmm? wanna feel what its like?", you purred against his ear while pulling off your dress, leaving you in a tiny bralette and thin panties.

"yes! fuck, please. i'll take whatever you wanna give me, just ..."

"shhh, it's okay. i'll give it to you, pretty. you dont have to beg. want you just as bad," you kissed him again before he could reply.

without him noticing, you had thrown off your bra, something which made him completely blank when you pulled away and began talking to him. none of your words made it through his head. he was far too busy looking at the pretty nude girl in front of him. he salivated at every inch of naked skin, wanting nothing more than to lick and kiss at every curve. out of all parts of your body, his eyes were glued to your tits. the fleeting thought of suffocating in them flew through his head, making him shudder.

"cheol?", you grabbed onto his chin and pointed his gaze towards your own, finally breaking him out of his trance.

you giggled at his confused face, causing him to sheepishly apologize for dozing off.

"it's okay, pretty. i'd be distracted too if i could get all these clothes off you ... that's what i was asking actually, can i?" your hands began to teasingly pull at his top, mangling it a bit so it could expose some skin.

his nod was all you needed to rip off his shirt and pull off his pants with urgency that had seungcheol blushing. after getting him fully naked, you threw off your panties and finally sat against him completely bare. the heat of your skin against his was enough to have him burying his face against your neck and begging you once more to please give it to him.

"shhh. i'll give it to you, pretty. i– i'll give you everything," and with that, you sank down on him, throwing your head back at the intrusion.

meanwhile seungcheol was completely gone. the warmth of your body against his had been one thing, but feeling your heat wrap around him was what truly did him in.

it's not like he had stayed a virgin by choice. he had tried to hit it off with many of the girls jeonghan set him up with, but none of them showed any care for him. they'd all expected him to step up and fuck them. even when he would try to shyly explain that he had never done anything sexual before, he'd just be met with scoffs or laughter. but you had walked him through it. you had complimented him and made him feel comfortable. you had made him see pleasure for the first time in his life.

although these thoughts swam through his head as you fucked yourself on his cock, seungcheol's mind was otherwise completely empty. all he could think about was how good you felt and how pretty you sounded as you threw your head back and pulled at his hair. you were just the embodiment of pleasure.

all cares and worries were gone from his brain until the moment in which he felt all his pleasure reach a peak.

he didn't want to be a fucking loser and cum so soon, but you just felt so fucking good, he couldnt help himself. he cried a warning out to you, to which you encouraged him to let go and told him you'd follow him soon.

his orgasm was something he never couldve imagined. but your own orgasm soon trampled that experience. your tightness as you let yourself go while still wrapped around him had him delirious with pleasure. without meaning to, his nails dug into the skin of your pretty hips as he lost consciousness for a few seconds.

unable to fully process it, he felt a sweet peck against his lips before feeling you cuddle against him. he didnt have to think twice before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

"remind me to thank that idiot", he spoke up after some moments.

"who, hannie?", you giggled against his chest.

"yeah. he was onto something when he made me get ready in his room."

"oh? he sent me in here looking for you."

"that fucker", he chuckled, "owe him one."

1K notes · View notes

1nyourdr34ms · 1 month

Text

baby, you're so mean

+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: mark x virginfem!reader

synopsis: you and mark know each other since middle school, but you always thought of him as a loser and he hated you for that. one day you meet again as college students, but mark is and looks completely differently which gets you confused until you realize you're head over heels for him.

genres: smut (!), enemies to lovers

warnings: fem!reader wears revealing clothes, mark is kinda bad here (at least his point of view to some topics), he smokes, unprotected sex (BUT YOU PROTECT. PLEASE. ALWAYS!), toxic kinda relationship, vulgar language

mark and you have known each other since you were fresh teens. he is and was always too aware of your beauty and attractiveness. he knows exactly how you can light up the room when you smile. that radiant smile of yours... mark also knows how much you love lemon cake, and has noticed your sadness when someone is treated unfairly.

but beyond that, and he is all too aware of this, he has intensely studied your body. he has attentively observed how your juicy butt sway sensually when you did rope jumping in front of him in gym class. or how seductive your cleavage always looks when you bend over to get a notebook from your bag.

were you a girl that all the boys in school dreamed of? definetely.

were you a girl that mark dreamed of as a love interest? not exactly.

despite all these enticing observations, mark could never really stand you. your mothers were good friends, and you were neighbors since childhood, meaning you have actually known each other forever.

but you never truly paid him any attention. no matter how friendly he was to you, you were mostly reserved in his presence. a friendly smile was the most you would give. and even worse, at school, you acted as if you didn't know each other at all, although you practically grew up together. you treated him as if he were invisible.

instead, you gave your attention to the 'hotter' and 'more popular' boys in your class or school. at least, that was marks perception. with them, you act entirely different than you would be with him. you were popular, had excellent grades, and got on well with everyone, but never gave mark a bit of your attention. more than enough reasons, why he hated you!

after graduation, family lee, decided to move to another city which was 25 miles away from your house. for them, it was professionally advantageous, as mrs. lee had found a more promising position in her field, and mark became the opportunity to go to the university he had desired.

it was a mild summer evening when you went down the stairs to the living room and found that your mother was not there. you looked out the window and saw your mother talking to mrs. lee, while mark was loading suitcases into his car. then it struck you like a bolt of lightning: mrs. lee said goodbye to your mother for good.

you rushed to the porch to join the farewell. 'i am terribly sorry, mrs. lee. i completely forgot that you were leaving tonight,' you explained with a concerned smile.

mrs. lee smiled broadly. 'no problem, dear. we're still here,' she reassured you. you hugged her warmly, while mark only received a blunt 'take care, mark' from a distance from you. you didn't even look to his direction properly.

'what a...', mark thought, and hurried to the driver's seat of his car, before he could think about it for too long.

to him, you were just a... well, a 'bitch', a 'hoe' whatever. one who sought the attention of boys, who hung around and slept with the biggest idiots of the school.

he didn't deny that he found you beautiful and attractive, but you were and would never be more valuable to him.

the only thing that connected you both was your mothers. apart from that, you were fundamentally different as individuals.

he came from an educated, wealthy household, while you in your childhood hoped that your mother had enough money to visit an amusement park next month.

thanks to your mother's promotion at her job, you reached a turning point in your life. just before high school, everything changed for you both. you moved to a new area, bought a house, your mother had a successful career, you did super well in school, and now you live happily together.

mark couldn't help but feel a deep aversion to the indifference you had shown him, an ignorance that offended his ego and challenged his pride at the same time.

he sat in the driver's seat of his car and waited for his mother. he allowed himself a glance in the rearview mirror to watch you. despite his hatred, he found it difficult to resist your seductive aura.

he saw the way your hair fell playfully around your shoulders every time you tilted your head, the slight sparkle in your eyes that remained alive even in your absence, the way your smile warmed the surrounding atmosphere, the way your breasts moved slightly up and down every time you made short jumps of excitement, the way your waist line was in perfect proportion to your wide, defined hips.

the view of you was torture for him because, for the young man, you were something he deeply desired but loathed on principle.

as mark's mother got into the car, he started the engine, took one last look at you, and drove away, unaware that your paths would cross again in an unexpected turn.

you never saw mark again after that - which was lucky for you because you actually hated him!

he was the perfect neighbor kid that your mom compared you to. she would always say things like "look, mark got an a in chemistry class, i expect the same from you…" or "mark is such a smart guy, he got his driver's license at his first try…" or "oh, mark is such a sweet child and accompanies her mom to church every sunday… you should take an example of him."

an example from the boring, loser boy… yeah, sure, mum.

she was only obsessed with mark because he was her bestie's boy. otherwise, he wouldn't have been an issue in your family at all and you would surely have had your peace of mind.

so good for you that the alleged perfect boy, who in reality was nothing but a boring, unattractive loser, finally disappeared from your neighborhood.

let's switch to today, 5 years later, a lot has changed in your life over the past few years.

you are about to graduate from university with a degree in bioengineering and are just a few steps away from moving to a big city, you have been dreaming of since forever, and starting a new, free, independent life.

unfortunately, for your liking, this small, dull town limited your opportunities and potential to do more with your life.

a big city should change this obstacle.

so your dream was to rent a cute little apartment, find a job with excellent pay, meet the love of your life, and start a family.

you were a romantic at heart. even if it was hard to believe from the outside because everyone rather thought of you as a hoe - which you were completely aware of.

but you were also a girl, who believed in true love and the magic of starting your own family.

sadly, you haven't had much luck in your love life so far because most of the male species in your life only wanted to fuck your body.

accordingly, there was no suitable male with whom you could experience your first, real relationship. there was also no one with whom you could experience your first time in bed, which you wanted it to be special.

yep. surprise, surprise! the super-hot girl with the super-hot, sex-appealing figure from school was actually something between a virgin and a celibate!

of course nobody knew.. you were outstanding at making out, not shy to let your breasts get sucked or eagerly suck their dick, so nobody really questioned it.

whenever it was close for the male to stick his dick into you, you always offered them to give a blow-job and do it for real the next time. somehow, it always worked.

but you wanted to lose your virginity status before leaving this city forever. only, to make a good memory and as a form of farewell to your old life in this city.

sometimes, you fantasize about meeting your future partner. he would probably be a manly man with a lot of charisma who can make you happy, protect, and satisfy you.

but that was all fantasy at first.

today you were invited to a house party thrown by the super-hot fellow student johnny.

you knew he was ready to fuck you whenever or wherever. you could tell from his eyes and his countless boners whenever you two studied together - or johnny tried to study when he wasn't busy staring at your boobs.

you could literally run him around on your finger because of that.

and this kinda behavior was undoubtedly what put you off from having sex. as soon as you sensed that a man was an easy target, drooling over you, you lost interest and the desire to jump into bed with them.

at the party, you and johnny were sitting in the small kitchen of his parents' house. you're wearing a short, tight, black miniskirt that showed off your thighs and embraced your juicy butt. a matching tank top that slightly revealed your stomach and breasts, and over that you've put on a black bomber jacket.

he talked your ear off for 15 minutes about his plans for the future, how he's going to work in his father's company in a high position of responsibility and earn a lot of money.

by contrast, you have been mentally planning your excuse to head home. this party has been a complete waste of your time.

completely dazed by your thoughts, all the noise from the music, the conversations of the guests and the diffuse atmosphere in the room, you only realized now that you could feel johnny's breath on your neck.

which was a sign for you to instinctively step back. you took a look at him and noticed his lustful eyes. whatever mood he was on, you could unfortunately not feel it.

you smiled briefly and politely excused yourself to the living room. johnny is definitely not going to be the planned candidate to take away your virginity status.

as soon as you entered the living room, the music got louder, also the volume of the conversations as well as the physical distance of the guests got even more intense.

you sighed and cast a quick glance around the room to find a good place to relax.

all of a sudden, your gaze lingered on the far corner of the room as you recognized the familiar face of someone you thought you had long buried away.

sitting on the couch, was none other than the old shadowless boy next door, mark lee. he was sitting in a group of three students together, laughing heartily and clearly having fun.

you recognized the two students in front of him, jeno and yuta from your uni. but who was the girl right next to him?

unanticipated, in the middle of the living room among the crowd of students having fun, you stood frozen on the same spot, trying to both identify the girl and understand what mark was doing at this party.

was he even the same mark you once knew?

he looked so… different, which, to your surprise, certainly did something to you.

suddenly, you were oblivious to all the noise in the house and felt like you were submerged underwater.

your perception became numb, and you could only perceive mark clearly. without being able to logically understand why his presence had caused such a shock state in your mind and body.

mark was sitting too close to the girl, their knees were touching and she was clutching his arm. was she his girlfriend?

apart from her, mark was the one who excited you with his whole new aura: his hair, his masculine jaw line, his physique, his moving… nothing resembled the shady old boy from your neighborhood anymore.

he looked so damn attractive and appealing to your eyes.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't recognize johnny's presence behind you until it was too late. he had long since grabbed your hips and stroked his member lightly on your body.

when he noticed how motionless you were, he followed your gaze and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "mark lee?" he murmured.

you looked up at him in surprise? how the hell did johnny suh know mark lee?

johnny was a hugely popular student at your university. he came from the ivy league, was mega sporty and worked as a model on the side.

while mark, was a mama's boy who mostly stayed in the background, listened well to his parents, joined the church choir and lived by the rules.

what timeline were they living in that their paths would cross?

the equation just didn't add up in your head.

he turned away from you with a beaming, happy face and staggered slightly in mark's direction, affected by the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

johnny willingly goes over to talk to him and leaves you behind?!

"mark lee, what's up, man?" he shouted gleefully. mark's face also brightened when he saw johnny. "yo, johnny, dude, what's up?" he returned his greeting and held out his fist.

the two exchanged brief words until johnny turned around, presumably looking after you in the crowd.

you proactively made your way over without letting him look for you any longer.

johnny immediately put his hand on your hip when he noticed you next to him. you glanced at mark, who looked rather preoccupied with the female companion next to him, to even notice your presence.

"he-heeeey, y/n!" yuta shouted, getting up to hug you.

the sound of your name finally woke mark up, causing him to look up at you in amazement and confusion.

yuta quickly got a chair for you and johnny so that you could sit down. he positioned your chair as close to him as possible.

you thanked him with a smile, sank into the chair, and crossed your legs, which made your miniskirt go a little higher. mark studied you thoroughly with his black eyes. from top to bottom. his eyes slowly traveled from your neck, to your breasts, to your stomach, to your legs and finally to your feet. he completely took you in with his eyes.

you couldn't understand why, but you liked the attention he showed you. it gave pleasant butterflies in your stomach.

as soon as he realized that you had caught him in his act, he averted his gaze and took a sip from his glass, which you found amusing.

the girl next to him clung to him tighter, when she noticed his eyes were glued on you.

the whole night you were being hit on by yuta, jeno and johnny. you had all their attention except for mark. the one you were most interested in at the moment.

his little attention, in the beginning, was all he could give to you because he didn't even glance at you for a moment afterward.

instead, he was busy making out with the girl next to him for the whole night.

eventually, the night ended without anything special happening.

johnny and yuta fought with each other to walk you home, but you insisted on driving home alone and were glad that they didn't insist any longer.

on your way back home, you couldn't help but think about mark.

was he always so attractive and you were too blind to recognize it or did he go through a second puberty?

either way, you couldn't get his dark eyes out of your head, the way he looked at you, the way his lips curled into a heart-melting smile, whenever he told something, the veins in his arms whenever he clutched his glass and his pointed jawline.

and the way his mouth moved sensually as he kissed the girl next to him. god… you wondered how his lips would feel if you kissed him... your cheeks heated up at the thought.

holy crap, who would have thought that the nice, silent kid from your neighborhood, would make your insides shake like crazy?

is uni even uni if you don't have to attend a zoom meeting for the smallest occasions?

presently, you were preparing to attend a zoom meeting to meet the team for your research internship.

it was the last practical part of your master's degree program before graduation.

you were informed that it was a small working group in microbial and molecular transformation. in about five minutes, you were about to meet your internship supervisor and other colleagues.

so after straightening your hair and applying make-up, you opened your laptop and clicked on the zoom link provided.

a few seconds later, the counselor's contact window appeared. you smiled politely and looked up to the small screens to see how many people were present.

along with the tutor, there were three other people present: someone named alex, someone named giselle and someone named mark.

when you read the name, you immediately thought of a certain person, but quickly put the thought out of your mind because it would be impossible for him to be-

suddenly, the student's video window took on texture and color, causing you to almost lose your breath when you realized that it was indeed the mark you had in mind.

he was wearing a black beanie, glasses, a white shirt, and an olive green jacket. even in this state, inexplicably, he managed to raise your pulse.

throughout the meeting, you occasionally glanced at his screen to check him out. most of the time he was attentive, bending his head to probably do something on his phone, and when he spoke, he spoke so confidently and sympathetically that it warmed your heart.

he exuded a cool, confident, personable demeanor that you wouldn't associate with him before. mainly, he shared his thoughts about the project, they were working on.

as soon as it was your turn to introduce yourself, you noticed that he switched to a poker face, while everyone else was patiently listening to you, and he even reached for his cell phone while you were still talking. kinda rude… was he ignoring you on purpose?

despite his uncertain behavior, you tried to be not intimidated and delivered a confident introduction to the team.

you wished he had shown you more attention, but that wouldn't have been possible via zoom anyway.

two days later, the first day of your internship had arrived. on a sunny day, you walked from the university parking lot to the research building with zero expectations in your mind.. you would be glad to just finish this internship and graduate soon.

you were wearing a gray, thin, knitted sweater with long sleeves and a wide, square neckline that slightly exposed your shoulders and showed your bra strap. the sweater was cut short and ended above your waist, revealing part of your stomach. to match, you were wearing a pair of black jeans with a high waist, tight fit and a hemline just above your belly button.

as you approached the building, in front, you noticed a male figure smoking. the closer you got, the more you could identify him as being mark.

wow, who would've thought, it would be that easy to see him here.

he was wearing a casual, long-sleeved shirt with a checkered pattern of dark and light blue tones and dark blue jeans that emphasized his casual look.

you immediately recognized his dark, expressive eyes and the way his facial muscles contracted whenever he pulled on the tilt of his cigarette.

the younger y/n would've never have guessed that mark would smoke someday...

he seemed to continue his game of ignoring you, never turning his head in your direction and trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

while you, in contrast, looked straight at him as clearly as possible as you almost reached the door.

you two were standing in a line as you held out your arm to open the door. you leaned back to pull the heavy door, but your movements were slow since you were hoping he'd give you a small glance in this small encounter.

he took one last drag from his cigarette and briefly glanced over at you before throwing it on the floor and extinguishing it with his right foot.

you were already in the building and couldn't help, but smile at the small, insignificant interaction. the tension between you two was starting to appear slowly, but you were 100% sure, that he was deliberately ignoring you.

as you walked down the long hallway to find the office where you were supposed to arrive, you heard footsteps behind you, coming closer and closer.

you stopped in front of room "c9" and checked your cell phone again before knocking in, to make sure you were in the right place.

the document you had saved on your phone, took ages to open, but then suddenly you noticed a figure in front of you, who tried to unlock the door.

mark.

"you're here for the internship, right?" you hear him say without looking at you.

"um, yes, exactly," you answer.

he opened the office door, and you followed him, although he did not properly invite you in. inside the office, there was no one else besides you two. you found a table, that seemed to be free and put your bag down.

"we've come to the conclusion that you work in alex' team. just like me. giselle is pretty closely involved in three projects this semester, so she can't make time to supervise you. that's why we're taking on this task," he explained to you as he booted up his computer without looking at you.

you simply nodded and sat there uncomfortably. one thing for sure, he had certainly managed to make you uncomfortable. great!

to break the strange silence in the room, you asked if alex was also working in the room. unfortunately, mark just nodded and hummed.

he only opened his mouth, when he had something to say, that was necessarily work-related; like when he e-mailed your weekly tasks.

for the next 40 minutes, silence captured the office, while you two were working.

mark looked pretty focused. a little too focused for your liking.

unfortunately, you, on the other side, could do anything, but focus on your work.

not, when his appearance was enough to distract you. at the same time, several question marks formed in your head as to why he was ignoring you so blatantly. he acted as if you two were strangers, or as if he would hate you. it made no sense, why he would think like that.

if he didn't recognize you from the past, he should at least be friendly to a supposed stranger.

while you were busy with these thoughts, suddenly, the door opened wide. "shit, traffic jam!", alex entered the room. you turned around and gave him a smile. mark didn't even move from his position.

when alex recognized you, he smiled widely. "aaah, the new intern. hello, i'm alex." he held out his hand. you stood up and shook his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself.

"it's a pleasure," he looked at you longer than allowed with a grin and squeezed your hand lightly.

of course you were aware of this annoying gesture, looked like, unwillingly you caught another guys' attention.

there was no progress between you and mark all day. he worked like a workaholic on his computer, while alex occasionally got up and leaned over your shoulder to "help" you with your tasks.

after a while, alex disappeared upstairs to attend another meeting, leaving you and mark alone in the office again.

mark got up and walked to the bookshelf. you took the situation as an opportunity and followed him. when he turned around, you had already blocked him; standing in his way.

"why are you ignoring me?" you asked directly. mark looked surprised. "excuse me?" he mumbled.

"you. you're ignoring me. there is no way, you didn't recognize me. we know each other from the past. from school. you act as if you don't know me," you cleared out, crossing your arms.

mark slowly lowered his gaze to your arms. you could see that he was clenching his jaw and deliberating.

"but i have to admit…" you suddenly exclaimed, causing mark to look at you again.

"that even i had difficulties recognizing you. you look different." you said quietly and moved a step closer. "fairly different." you looked into his eyes with a smile.

mark paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. "well, that's usually what time does. some change for the better, while some…" he said with a dry undertone.

you raised your eyebrows while you waited for him to finish his sentence. you didn't remember that his voice was so attractive.

mark decided not to finish his thought and looked directly at you. "um, it doesn't really matter. you really should-"

"do you have a girlfriend?"

the question left your mouth without a warning. you had become so lost in his eyes, captivated by his masculine energy and enveloped by the subtle scent of his perfume, that you just had to ask.

mark seemed visibly shocked by your sudden question. his eyes widened for a moment before he caught himself.

"a girl..friend?" he repeated as if he needed to process your words first.

then he sighed. a looong, deep sigh. "why the hell should you care?"

you noticed how his words made the air between you crackle even more. his natural reaction, so surprising and genuine, only drew you closer to his aura.

so you leaned forward a little, your eyes fixed on his, and with a whisper, you said: "because i need to know if there is someone i need to compete with. or if i'm the only one who has the privilege of making you nervous like this."

your words were challenging. you were standing very close to him, close enough to feel his breath. close enough to smell his smoked cigar.

mark only looked at you and raised his eyebrows, visibly confused and at the same time challenged by your directness.

he took a step back to create some distance between you two. his gaze became penetrating, almost cutting.

"competitor? privilege?" his voice was cool, almost sharp. "you still think the universe revolves around you, don't you?"

you could feel how his words triggered a mixture of attraction and repulsion in you. you've never experienced this feeling with a man before.

"you're wrong, y/n" it was the first time you heard your name coming out of his mouth, and you loved it.

mark took a deep breath. "it's the other guys who fall at your feet. that… that's definitely not me," he said sharply.

you couldn't help but smile, fascinated by his determination.

your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you lean forward. "oh yeah? then, who are you, mark? tell me how 'different' you are from others." your voice was flirty and playful.

"i saw exactly how you looked at me at the party."

mark gulped visibly, as if he was preparing himself, to give you an answer. but you could notice, that you made him slightly nervous with your remark.

for a moment there was an intense silence in which you looked deeply into each other's eyes. just as the tension became almost palpable, the door opened with a loud squeak.

alex re-entered the room, completely unaware of what happened of your interaction. "so, back to the cave! y/n, how's the text going?"

his cheerful voice broke the silence, and brought you and mark back to the present.

mark took a step forward, his eyes leaving yours as he marched back to his table.

you turned around, a smile on your lips. "i'm coming!" you shouted.

the next three weeks were unspectacular. mostly, mark focused on his work the whole time and alex never let you do your work alone, because you'd need "supervision", which made it difficult for you, to interact with mark again.

one day you walked back into the building again while you were reading the message in the workgroup that alex had sent.

he would not be present today because he was sick. when you read the message, your heart soared, impatient to see mark in the office.

you walked down the corridor to the office while he ran towards you.

he seemed to be leaving the office. but when he saw you, he left the door wide open. you looked at him questioningly, while he gestured that he was going out for a smoke.

another good thing about the office was, apart from the fact that mark worked here, that it allowed a view of the smoking area.

mark was leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers. he was wearing black jeans and a white, casual shirt. so basic, but so hot at the same time.

he took a slow drag on his cigarette, and every time he exhaled, the smoke formed a little side haze in front of his face. you watched the whole scene as if it were playing out in slow motion in front of you.

mark occasionally brushed his hair out of his face with the back of his thumb, showed a small frown when he was thinking, or occasionally looked off into the distance as if lost in his thoughts.

you positioned your chin in your hand, while the thought germinated in your mind that there was much more behind mark's tough façade than you had seen so far. his calm, almost thoughtful manner as he stood there had an almost magnetic effect on you.

you wanted to find out what was going on in his head, what he was feeling…

when mark had finished his cigarette, he threw it on the floor and stubbed it out. he turned around and noticed through the window that you had been watching him.

your eyes met for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

mark broke the eye contact with a neutral look and made his way to the office.

your internship would end in 5 weeks and it was not clear whether you would still meet mark afterwards or whether alex would give you the space to be alone again in those 5 weeks.

so today was crucial. you thought about how you could get closer to him and an idea came to you.

you walked to the nearest café and bought some light food for lunch. you planned to have lunch with mark at the office and hoped to make some progress.

the murmur in the hallway revealed that the other people were making their way to the cafeteria. you glanced at mark, who also seemed intent on eating in the cafeteria.

before he got up, you intervened. "wait, how about we have lunch here?"

mark, just about to put on his jacket, pauses when he hears your suggestion. his gaze wanders indecisively from you to the door and back again.

at that moment, you take a few packets out of your bag and spread them out on the small table at the back of the office.

"i got sandwiches and salad," you say with a smile and raise your eyebrows innocently.

"it's not a proper lunch, but it's better than what's served in the canteen. besides, it's quieter here."

you watch mark closely and notice how his gaze briefly falls on the food.

he's still hesitant. he doesn't think it's a bad idea in itself, but eating alone with you was pretty risky.

"come on, mark. it's not like i'm going to bite you,"

unless you ask me to…

mark looks at you hard for a moment before sighing and finally nodding. "alright, but for your information, i'm not a big fan of sandwiches."

you smile triumphantly and point to the chair opposite. "sit down, i promise it won't be that bad."

no wonder why people say, that the unique opportunity we seek lies within ourselves. and the opportunity you were seeking was to be alone with mark, who should of course would be working.

the break lasted 45 minutes in total. a period of time that was crucial to your success.

you rolled up your sleeves to get a sandwich out of the bag. you wore a long-sleeved, slightly see-through, figure-hugging white top with a u-neckline that slightly exposed your shoulders. you wore a classic pair of blue jeans in a five-pocket style that emphasized your hips.

you sat next to each other and ate your sandwiches.

your happy face could hardly hide the fact that you had this rare opportunity to eat alone with mark.

you sneaked glances at him as he ate his sandwich and noticed the way he occasionally furrowed his eyebrows whenever he took a bite of the sandwich.

"did you actually move back to the neighborhood after you… well, moved away with your mom?" you asked cautiously, hoping to learn a little more about him.

mark, who had just taken a bite of his sandwich, paused.

his gaze hardens and he slowly puts his sandwich down. "y/n, i really appreciate the food and the silence," he says in an almost cool voice. "please don't let us cross the personal line."

you feel a slight disappointment rising inside you, sigh, but don't let it discourage you.

the two of you continued your lunch in silent suspense.

suddenly marks cell phone vibrates on the table. he hesitates for a moment as he looks at the display before picking it up.

"yes, i'm listening," his posture changes as he listens, he straightens up and his voice sounds business-like.

you can't help but get curious. it was a female voice.

you listen to the female voice on the other end of the line, sounding lively and friendly. was she possibly the girl from the party?

you watch closely as mark speaks to her.

his facial expression remains neutral, but his eyes reveal a certain familiarity with the person on the other end.

your curiosity about what the girl on the other end was talking about was driving you crazy.

you unconsciously moved closer to mark, awkwardly stirring the cup between you.

a small push of your elbow was enough to send the contents spilling across the table.

"damn it!" you exclaimed quietly as you hurriedly got up to clean up the mess.

mark, still on the phone, looked briefly irritated, but then concentrated on the conversation again.

you rushed to the shelf in the corner of the office to get some tissues while keeping the convo in your ear.

"yeah, yeah, i know… that's important to me too," you heard him say. his voice sounded softer. he hadn't spoken to you in this tone before.

this personal note in his tone made you falter for a moment. why can't he treat me like this?

you shook off your thoughts and returned to the table with your handkerchiefs, trying to hide your curiosity. "sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you leaned forward to wipe up the spilled liquid.

mark put the phone aside and replied curtly, "no problem".

you wiped the table without a care in the world until you realized that mark had been watching you the whole time. his eyes were particularly focused on your boobs swinging back and forth, as you wiped the surface of the table. you acted hastily beforehand, instinctively, unaware that your cleavage would display your boobs right in front of mark.

his sudden affection for you made you embarrassed and your cheeks flushed.

mark, realizing he'd been caught, cleared his throat and quickly returned his gaze to the sandwich in front of him.

at the same time, you couldn't help but grin as you threw the handkerchief into the garbage can and sat back down in your chair.

mark, on the other hand, was now visibly nervous and tense. he knew that you had noticed his looks and his interest.

you awkwardly put your drink away and tried to start a conversation to bridge the awkward silence.

"you know, when i was little, i was so obsessed with donuts that i-"

"you wanted your father to own a donut factory," he interrupted you.

you were visibly shocked that he remembered such a trivial detail. "how do you know that?" you asked, your eyes wide with surprise.

"you told me about it in 8th grade when we were supposed to talk about our childhood wishes," he replied casually, as if it was common knowledge.

you could hardly believe that mark had never forgotten such a banal piece of information about you. it showed how attentive he must have been to you even back then.

he didn't look at you properly until now because he was still embarrassed by his double exposure earlier.

"um… the phone call was just work, by the way," he stammered, obviously trying to change the subject.

you were still a little shocked and needed a moment to understand what he was alluding to. then you remembered the phone call and Mark's glances at your breasts.

you giggled softly at his frantic attempts to cover up his actions. "sure, just work," you replied.

mark sighed and looked directly at you. he continued to try to lighten the atmosphere and asked if you needed help with your chores.

you were nibbling on your jam sandwich and couldn't help but laugh. "do you really need an excuse to suppress your supposed 'crime', mark?" you asked directly and slightly defiantly.

mark, caught off guard by your directness, watched you for a moment.

he remembered how beautiful he always thought your smile was back then, because your eyes always lit up like the first ray of sunshine of the day when you laughed.

"thanks, but i'll be fine. i'll come to you if i need help," you said, biting into your sandwich again.

then you looked directly at him. "but i have to admit, i'm impressed by how productive you are. so focused… and you look pretty hot too," you added with a fleeting smile.

in truth, mark's productivity masked his desire for you. he was afraid that you might hurt him if you rejected him. he was afraid of himself, that he might get stupid ideas if he looked at you or even talked to you.

everything about you was reason enough to excite all his cells and organs in his body.

your presence was a fulfillment of his deepest, hidden desires and a painful agony at the same time.

mark felt his pulse slowly rising. he studied you more closely for a moment.

for little mark, it was nothing more than a dream that you were sitting next to him so openly and complimenting him.

he saw how your long, slightly wavy hair fell over your shoulders and lightly touched your breasts at the tips, how you looked at him with smiling eyes, how your whole body was focused on him.

he slowly lowered his gaze and noticed that he could see through your shirt, your bra and how your nipples were slightly visible through the surface of your shirt. it wasn't directly visible, but if you looked long enough you could see them.

you didn't even notice that mark was about to eye-fuck you because you were too engrossed in your story.

then mark looked at your face again, and he noticed the little jam mark on the corner of your lips. he thought you had left it there on purpose so he would notice it.

a sigh escaped him. "are you doing this on purpose?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

you were completely unaware of the jam stain, looking at him with an innocent expression. "what do you mean?"

mark pointed slightly at his own lip to show you the stain. "that jam stain there. it kind of makes you…" he breaks off, searching for the right words, while you searched in vain for the stain with your fingers.

if that's not one of her tricks to seduce a man…

mark thought to himself. but you were really clueless as to what he meant by the stain.

mark looked slightly annoyed and suddenly extended his finger to remove the stain from your lip.

his gesture took you completely by surprise and your eyes widened in astonishment as you stared at him.

mark wiped the stain with his thumb and noticed the way you looked at him.

the two of you were locked in an intense eye contact as mark's thumb still lingered gently on the corner of your lip. his eyes darkened as you felt a sudden electricity in your body.

he gently moved his fingers over your lips while his gaze was anchored on them.

you felt the warmth of his skin and a tingling sensation spread through your body.

your next move was completely instinct-driven, quite risky.

without thinking twice, you slowly opened your lips and took mark's thumb fully into your mouth, all the while gazing longingly into his eyes.

you remembered your plan, your desire for him… your growing arousal progressed.

you firmly held his hand tightly to keep his thumb in your mouth and licked and sucked on it.

if he would be willing and would allow, you were ready to suck his dick on the spot.

marks breath became heavier and his throat dried by the view of you.

he tried to suppress his inner turmoil, but the sudden intimacy of yours obviously threw him off balance.

the intimate air in the office was broken by the surprising sound of the door suddenly opening.

a young, beautiful girl stood in the doorway, looking for mark.

mark jerked his thumb back as you moved away from him, startled and embarrassed.

the girl stood confused at the doorway, staring alternately at mark and you.

mark cleared his throat and quickly rose from his chair. "yo…, hey," he stammered, clearly trying to control the situation.

"i was just on my way out. what's up?" he asked as he approached the girl and closed the door behind him.

you were left alone in the office, still caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, and you couldn't help but smile. your heart was beating fast with excitement and the adrenaline triggered by the unexpected closeness with mark.

you rushed to the window to get some fresh air, breathing heavily.

mark was outside the room, visibly trying to collect himself. he unobtrusively rubbed his thumb over his pants to dry it. his usually controlled façade towards you had been shaken for a moment.

the girl was explaining something to him, but he found it challenging to follow her because his thoughts were still on you.

the next day was really weird. you and mark tried hard to act as "normal" as possible and forget what happened yesterday.

"what's this all of a sudden?!" you exclaimed with a furrowed brow as you stared at your monitor.

the internet connection had broken, leaving you without access to the browser or the faculty's network drive.

since alex was off sick again, you looked to mark, who continued to work undisturbed by your outburst.

you tried to solve the problem yourself but realized after about 10 minutes that you had to run to the it service.

with a sigh, you grabbed your bag and left the office without telling mark; he would ignore you anyway.

luckily, you didn't have to wait long at the it service, and your issue was quickly resolved.

on your way back to the building, you saw mark leaving the building.

as he saw you coming, he gestured for you to follow him. you looked at him questioningly but walked in his direction at the same time.

"how about we call it a day and grab some food together?" he asked casually, squinting his eyes blinded by the sunlight.

his offer sounded definitely appealing. without questioning, you agreed with a "sure." you wanted to say that you needed to grab your stuff but noticed that mark was already holding it and handed it to you.

his kind gesture touched you. where did the guy go who ignored you all day??

when mark made this offer, you didn't imagine that you'd be eating burgers from a drive-thru in his car.

he had parked his car in a nice park's parking lot and started unwrapping his burger. you also took your burger in hand and handed him his fries.

this move made him recoil as if he was startled by you.

you looked at him for a few seconds.

"sorry, and yeah, thanks," he cleared his throat and placed his fries on his lap.

"what was that about? don't worry, i'm not going to stick my finger in your mouth," you remarked slightly offended and bit into your burger.

mark furrowed his brow "what are you talking about? i did not assume, that-" he tried to defend himself.

"judging by your behavior, you were obviously nervous that i might do exactly that," you continued to argue.

he shook his head and changed his sitting position so he could better look out his window.

you wondered why he had invited you to eat in the car if he was afraid to get closer. or, was that exactly the plan? no wonder his first thought was to recoil when you handed him his fries.

"you want me to get closer, don't you?" you asked softly.

"yea, you want us to get closer. that's why you invited me into your car. right?" you looked sideways at him, with a proud smile that you had seen through him.

mark chewed on his burger and shook his head slightly "it seems like you're the one who's hoping for that," he noted clearly.

"is that wrong?"

"what?"

"that i'm hoping for it."

"do you?"

"yes"

mark looked at you blankly. he looked as if he was solving a very difficult math problem in his mind.

"y/n, as a woman, you should be careful and not talk this way with a man. it can end very dangerously," he warned you.

you smirked, "but i'm talking to you."

"still. you're a woman."

now you were the one giving him a puzzled look, "what does that mean? just because i'm a woman, i can't have sexual needs? how old are you, mark? 80?"

"that's not what i'm saying. it's just that you're very attractive and very... dangerous... for me," he noted hesitantly. "...and very attention-grabbing for all other men."

you listened to him attentively, "does that make you jealous? or insecure?" you asked him.

mark sighed loudly, "it makes me uncomfortable... that's why...um... i wanted to eat with you in the car."

his remark made you laugh, while he looked at you as if you had gone crazy, "oh, mark, you're just so sweet. have you ever thought that you might be projecting your own desires onto others?"

"what do you mean?"

"aren't you the one who's mentally fucking me all the time and not the other men? isn't that what you want? just say it if that's the case. look, i'm being honest with you: i want your dick."

mark's eyes widened, he started to blush and protested loudly "wtf, y/n, i said, you, as a woman-"

"oh, stop being mean, mark. i know what i want as a woman. the question is, are you as a man ready to admit what you want?" you hinted with a flirty tone.

mark swallowed as he looked at you. he glanced briefly at his finger and tried to suppress his smile, "can you also...", he cleared his throat, "take other things in your mouth?", he asked quietly, his gaze shifting between your eyes and your lips.

life was really crazy. the guy you once hated so much was destined to take your virginity, and you only realized this during an internship in your studies.

after about 15 minutes of driving, mark parked in front of an apartment complex and stopped the car.

suddenly, it occurred to you that mark might need to know that you're a virgin. would that scare him off?

mark noticed your inner conflict and asked if everything was okay.

you hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. "it's just... you might want to know that i... am a virgin."

mark stared at you motionlessly for a moment, before he suddenly started to laugh. his reaction left you confused and slightly hurt. "good joke, y/n," he said, reaching for the door handle, ready to get out.

you were confused and grabbed his hand to stop him. "i'm serious. i really am a virgin," you said firmly.

mark turned to you in surprise, his laughter fading. "that's impossible," he replied incredulously, his eyes searching for any sign of a joke in your face.

you looked at him directly, your eyes open and serious. "why would that be impossible?"

mark's gaze didn't leave your face, as if trying to see behind your facade. "because... well, your body is... it's just hard to believe that you're a virgin."

you couldn't help but smile. "that has nothing to do with experience, mark."

mark was still not convinced. "dude, you've literally slept with every popular guy in class."

you couldn't believe your ears and were visibly shocked by his comment. "how the hell did you come up with that?! who am i supposed to have slept with?"

mark looked at you incredulously. "dude, come on... jaehyun? soobin? hyunjin?"

you were just speechless. "yeah, i might have made out with them at most..."

"you literally sucked hyunjin off," he said with a poker face.

"you.., okay, wow, i can't believe i'm having this conversation with you. this is not how i imagined our first time," you were just flabbergasted. first, because those guys were spreading stories about your moments, and second, because mark knew all about it.

"mark, just because i've had those experiences doesn't mean i've actually slept with them. i've never met the right one from whom i could get it," you assured.

"not yet... until...?" mark asked with a grin.

"... until i met you," you smiled.

mark felt around your lower back, grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up. while he took off his own shirt, you unclasped your bra.

your breasts were big and full and your nipples light pink.

mark flattened his palm on your boobs, his broad hand pawing at each of your breasts in turn. you had to bite your lips as he found each of your nipple, tweaking them firmly to bring them to stiff peaks.

your cunt clenched and you couldn't help the way your hips tried and bucked up to chase for some friction.

your body was toned and shapely. mark was always aware of that as he let you slight in his wettest dreams many times in the past.

he felt and squeezed your plump ass.

you tore down his boxers and admired his throbbing cock with a bite on your lower lip.

"are you scared?", mark asked with a shaky voice.

"i'm excited", you whispered.

"naughty girl", mark smirked.

you salivate at the way his foreskin strains against his tip, smeared with precome, which you licked away, making mark moan "oohhHh, yes".

mark pulled his hip back and put his hand tight on the back of your neck as you brought your hands up to stady his cock.

you wrapped your dominant hand around the base of his cock as you braced your other hand on his thigh for balance.

mark pressed you down onto his cock with the hand on the back of your head. you splutter at the sudden intrusion, hollowing your cheeks to stop yourself from gagging.

you looked up through bleary eyes to see his mouth agape, his eyes glassy as he watched his dick disappear into the wet heat of your mouth, "aahHhh, fuck-", he cursed.

you moaned around him as you squeezed the base of his cock, losing yourself to the moment as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "good baby, you're taking it so well, ahHhH", he continued to moan.

while you continued to work your mouth up and down, pulling almost all the way out to lap and suckle at his head. you used the tip of your tongue to toy with his slit and he shuddered, you smiled to yourself before committing to something more.

you relaxed your mouth as much as possible before starting to take him deep in your throat with hard, fast movements. the wet sound of you burying his cock deep in your throat was loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"good girl", he said through gritted teeth as he rocked his hips forward to meet your eager mouth.

you coughed and spluttered around him as he picked up the pace fucking your throat until tears were streaming down your face. mark finally relented as you felt your throat contract, threatening to make you gag.

you gasped for air as he held your head back, forcing you to look up at him as he grinned down at you, "i won't just nut in your mouth and end this", he stated with a smirk, "no chance, baby", he said.

you looked up at him, ashamedly open mouthed as you felt the arousal swirling in your core.

"alright, i'm gonna fuck you softly with my fingers and you're gonna tell me, if it feels good or bad, okay? last thing i want is to give you pain."

"yes", you almost whispered.

after getting you fully naked and putting you onto his bed, mark shoved his fingers into you and groaned deeply when he felt you clench around him on instinct.

fuck, i wished, it was my dick, she was stangling, he thought.

"you okay?", he reassured.

you nodded with a heated face and closed eyes, "keep going."

you shivered as he took in the perfectly shapen lips and letting his middle fingertip just run down your slit, making you shudder at how perfectly he split you just a little so it brushed over your clit, stimulating you ever so lightly through the hood and making you tremble.

"mark", you said and stopped his hand from fucking your pussy. you knew, he could feel that you were already wet enough.

"what's wrong, baby?"

"fuck my ass, please", you bluntly said, blushing a little as you just blurted it out. you didn't want to come this early and you always fantasized mark getting you from behind, so it was the perfect time for that.

"you sure?", mark carefully asked, but you already positioned yourself, getting all on your fours in front of him.

you sank your bank and let your knees slide wider to show yourself off.

"perfect", he smirked at the sight of your plump ass, making you glance back over your shoulders at him and smile.

to your surprise, mark dived down and pressed his tongue to your asshole, grabbing your hips to hold you in place as he licked over your sensational part.

"ohmygod", you choked in surprise, the feeling like nothing else you've experienced as he attacked you with passion, taking his time, but gave you no chance to ease into it.

it completely caught you off guard.

your shock turned to willing pleasure, letting your legs slide a little wider, arching your back to push back into him, "hmmMmM.. yeas, baby..", you whimpered.

a tingle ran through your whole body, hands tightening in the cheap sheets as you shivered, body trembling and a stuttering groan escaping your mouth.

suddenly your pleasure was abruptly interrupted as mark pulled away from you, leaving you ready as you gasped in shock and looked back at him.

your eyes locking onto his thick, throbbing erection as he squeezed it out and rubbed it over his impressive prick, slicking the bulging head as he stepped closer behind you.

you breathed deeply to calm your racing heart, the excitement and nerves sent adrenaline through you as mark reached down and grabbed a rough handful of your long hair.

he twisted his grip on you enough to make you wince and pushed his straining cock to your tight, not being that gentle with you as you expected him to be.

he testingly thrusted against you and felt how you resisted, "relax, babygirl", he breathed out. he held you dominantly in place as he worked against you and eased you open.

his pace was steady but inexorable, not giving you a chance to resist or pull away anymore.

you gave away, feeling yourself stretch naughtily over his invading head, mark used just enough pressure to drive his thick cock inside you without going too fast.

"you like that, y/n?", he teased, "is that, what you were hoping for?".

you seethed a little at that, but didn't say a word. you had literally invited it and had to take it, to let him work his magic on you and bring you to climax.

"the popular, sexy girl at school on her knees for me, taking my cock in her ass like a little-", he didn't finish his sentence, seeing you twitch as you held your temper back as he started thrusting himself deeper inside you, making your tightest hole take more of his cock.

"man, i knew, you would love this", he added, smiling as he shoved himself into you firmly, but carefully. his pace was calm and measured, taking his time with you.

his thrusts were controlled and purposeful, working deeper inside you.

pleasure melted into you all as you felt the full, satisfying sensation of the sex you were having with him, nerve endings stroked for the first time by his cock as he pumped you deeper and deeper. working all of himself inside you until his hips pressed to your toned booty.

"oh fuck...", you muttered as you shuddered and started picking up his pace a little. marks pumps got harder and more intent, making sure to go full depth every time you took all of him.

you gasped in pleasure, "oHhHhHH, maarkkk", you moaned. you heart was racing as you immediately blushed, barely able to believe you was enjoying your first time.

your breaths became harder, more intense as he pumped into you. marks hands still pulled at you, his fingers pressing into your soft skin as you readjusted his grip on your hair.

"oh mark, mark, just like that...", you moaned as you felt your orgasm building, your core tightening as he pounded you over and over again.

marks groans filled the room as he filled you.

"please, baby, i'm so close..."

"fuck", mark moaned in response, but didn't give in to your pleas, dragging out your orgasm and pulling back so he could delay you.

you whined in protest and slipped your hand between your legs, where you teased your clit, grinding against your fingers.

"y/n!", mark scolded, pulling your hand away from your aching pussy and restrain both of your hands at the top of his bed.

"i want to come, mark... i want-"

"i know, i know", mark smirked, his voice soothing as he stroked youur hair. "patience, baby. i am enjoying my break, this will make it more pleasurable."

"to the hell with... with... the break...", you groaned, but couldn't deny how much you were enjoying this.

you loved being pinned down, being fucked like this, it made you feel desired, loved and most importantly safe, because it was mark.

mark let out a breathless laugh as he continued his rhythmic movements, his grunting and moaning were only making you want to reach completion more.

"oh, y/n, you feel so good, baby..", he praised, smirking when you let out a huff beneath him.

you gasped when mark adjusted himself, so he was fucking you, just right, his thumb pressed against your clit.

"yes! markkk!", you cried, your eyes squeezed shut and you were breathing heavily as you lost yourself in him.

it was perfect. no one had ever touched you like this. no one had ever loved you like this.

you came with a cry, walls clenching around his cock.

your arousal spilling down his length.

you gasped, your heart racing as you pressed your forehead against his pillow. you felt marks hand grip your hips to steady you.

"y/n, i'm coming, i-", mark let out an unrestrained growl as his hips stuttered and he filled you with his seed, causing you to let out a weak, defeated moan as warmth flooded you as it often did.

"you're just... perfect, so... fucking... perfect...", mark stated, totally exhausted.

you both stayed like that for a few moments while your pounding hearts steadied and your breathings began to return to normal.

mark pulled out of you and you adjusted yourself on the bed, spinning around so you were laying next to him.

you had been fucked senseless, just as you wanted your first time to be and mark made your wish have come true.

today was your last internship day. your relationship with mark had changed since the incident. he couldn't ignore you anymore and always sought your company when alex wasn't around. after that, you even had sex four times. one of those times was in his office - when alex wasn't there.

on your last day, you wore a white, short-sleeved crop top that clung to your large breasts and highlighted your beautiful figure. you paired it with a high-waisted, fitted mini-skirt with a glencheck pattern in shades of gray and classic white sneakers.

it was a normal workday. at the end of the day, you said goodbye to all the employees. except for mark.

he invited you to a café.

once at the café, you both sipped on your drinks until mark broke the silence.

"you know, in school, i couldn't stand you. you treated me like i was a ghost. it really bruised my ego."

you looked at him in surprise before responding. "honestly, i felt the same about you. you were always the perfect child my mother never had."

mark's laughter filled the café. "well, at least your mom had the hotter kid that mine never had."

your mutual amusement quieted for a moment before you became more serious. "you're not fair, mark. i find you totally hot."

mark's gaze softened. "it's going to be hard to part ways with you, babe."

you both fell silent for a while, each lost in thought, until an idea came to you.

"what if you come with me?" mark initially shook his head. "that's not possible."

but you insisted. "why not? think about it. you and me together. every day. every morning. every night.", you gave him a teasing look.

after a moment of hesitation, mark gave in. "you know what? maybe i should really do that." his gaze intensified. "then i could continue to be the one who keeps you wet."

your cheeks turned red at his words.

"shh, mark, not in the café...", you warned him, which made him chuckle.

"so, are you ready to come with me?" you asked him.

"you crazy? i am more than ready. here's to us and to what the future holds."

his words made you smile. "glad you exist, markie."

"glad you exist, darlin'. i'm proud to call you mine."

with those words, a chapter in your life closed, and a new one began - with mark -, full of promises and unknown adventures, side by side.

#nct #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee imagine #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #nct mark x you #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct mark smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct mark x reader #nct mark x y/n #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut

825 notes · View notes

youraverageaemondsimp · 7 months

Text

“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter(?)!Reader // PART TWO

Here is the long awaited part 2! Though it is shorter than the last one, ik i said I'll publish this after my exams but i got a sudden burst of motivation, also there likely won't be any further parts!

MDNI

WARNINGS: p in v sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, age gap (9ish years), lactation kink, pregnancy kink(?), tiddy sucking, fingering, fluff, slight angst, giving birth, past trauma experience, + not proof read.

WC: 3.8k

« part one // 🎄 special »

You woke up this morning tired from the activities of last night, you stirred in your sleep which woke aemond up as he unwrapped his hands around you and rubbed his eyes, “Good morning bunny.” he tells you, voice deep and hoarse and you mumble a good morning back before placing a kiss on his face.

It has been a few months since then, becoming officially a part of Aemond's family, though you and Aemond were not married yet, you both acted like a married couple anyway, he called you his wife rather than referring to you as his girlfriend.

You had moved into his house, fetching all the things you needed from your old apartment and shifting to his house, Aenys was more than happy, he constantly referred to you as mama now.

Today was Aemond's day off, which is why he was still in bed with you today, lazing around and basking in your comfort, but to be honest he literally owns everything and can take breaks whenever he wants but he doesn't do that, wanting to remain punctual.

You both get off the bed and go get ready, today you were going to a daycare centre to get Aenys to finally join and mingle with friends around his age, Aemond had rejected this idea when you suggested it, but with enough convincing from your side he agreed, he was still reluctant as hell, bring overprotective of his son.

Aemond had also offered to pay for your tuition since you said you wanted to pursue further education, but you denied it feeling as if it's too much but he insisted, and he eventually got his way in the end, he basically fucked his way to it.

Your classes would start next week, and since you and Aemond would be gone, Aenys would once again be alone in the house, and Aemond didn't want to hire another babysitter, you had also used this point to convince him to put Aenys in a daycare.

You both quickly got ready, throwing on some casuals and went to Aenys' room to wake him up, Aemond went to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the three of you while you got Aenys ready for the day, and as usual, he was on his best behaviour. You placed a small kiss to his nose which made him giggle, before picking him up and going outside his room, towards the kitchen and the dining area, you had noticed how the food had already been set and aemond was bringing in the utensils before he placed them down. You put Aenys down on his chair before pecking Aemond on the lips and you three sat there and ate.

The drive to the daycare was relatively small, only a few minutes. You could tell Aemond was nervous, seeing him tap the car steer repeatedly, a habit you had noticed. Aenys was sitting in the back side as you engaged in a conversation with him.

“I'm swooo excited! I hope it's fun!!!” he yelled enthusiastically and you chuckled, “I'm sure it will be fun, Aenys.” and just like that, you have already reached the daycare centre.

It was big, of course it would be, it's the rich kids version.

You got out of the car first and opened the backdoor to fetch Aenys, and his little cute bag he wore on his back, he was jumping up and down in excitement, and Aemond reluctantly got out of his own car and sighed heavily.

You watched as a few parents came out of their cars as well, basically dropping their kids off, and soon you and Aemond went to do the same.

Aenys was hesitant to let go of your hand first, the teacher had encouraged him to come but he hid behind your leg and covered himself from view due to shyness, you bent down to his level and comforted him, giving him reassurance and to your surprise Aemond also did the same thing, telling him it will be okay, and just then did Aenys let go of your hand and went to the teacher, before she led him inside

This moment made you tear up, watching him go on his own world and then you heard a shaky breath, and looked to your side.

Aemond was trying to contain his emotions, probably scared that something might happen to him, you took your hand in his before rubbing it reassuringly, and he held yours tightly in comfort.

You both stood there for a moment before making your way back to the car.

“What if something happens to him?” Aemond speaks up suddenly, voice laced with concern and you look at him, “Nothing will happen Aemond, I'm sure he'll be fine. You can't just keep him locked away forever.” you reply.

“You're right… it's just-” he sighs heavily.

“I can understand, it must be tough.” you held his hand in yours and he looked at you, and gave you a small smile, before he got inside the car, you went around and got in.

Everything went fine that week, and life began to move, you got into your university of choice and with the major you had chosen in child psychology, classes were going well.

Luckily, you and Aenys' hours matched perfectly, You would drop him off at daycare before going to your university, and then pick him up, Aemond's however were still the same.

But for an odd reason, a few days into your classes you started feeling heavily nauseous, even throwing up sometimes. At first you thought it was due to stress but then you noticed how sensitive your breasts had become, and how your period was late.

You went to pick up Aenys, waiting outside the car while he rushed out of the building with his friends, he was smiling, his baby teeth on full display and it made your heart warm up, his eyes lit up even more when he spotted you, saying goodbye to his friend before he ran over to you and you picked him up, giving him a kiss on the head, “Mama! I want to sit in the front today!!” he said and you reluctantly agreed, not being able to say no to his puppy eyes, you carefully seated him in the front seat before securing the seatbelt and then got into the otherside to drive off.

You usually go home straight after this but you went to the pharmacy and got pregnancy tests, yes tests, multiple cause you really wanted to be sure.

After reaching home, you put Aenys to nap, not before feeding him lunch and then you finally relaxed, knowing he was fast asleep in his room, you immediately took out the pregnancy tests before going to the bathroom to run the tests.

You wait on the bathroom seat, waiting for the tests to load up, legs bouncing in nervousness as you watch the three tests take their time to process and show the results.

Your eyes darted to the first one and you felt your heart leap in your throat, and then the second, and then the third.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

You did not know how to feel, you had mixed feelings about this. You were happy but also not at the same time.

Waiting for Aemond to get home had never felt more agonising.

Time felt like it moved extremely slowly, You were left alone with your nerves, Aenys was napping for longer than usual, or at least it was what it felt like. You scrolled through your phone not knowing if you should text him. You knew he was probably busy, and announcing that you're pregnant didn't seem appropriate, but you couldn't wait until night for his presence.

‘Aemond?

Can you please come home as soon as your work allows you to?’

You text him that.

You honestly expected him to be home a few hours later and not in just half an hour.

He bursted through the front door, slamming it behind him, making you panic thinking you had an intruder but it was just him.

“What happened?” he asks you, voice concerned as he grips your shoulders tightly. You snap out of your shock and hold his arms, before you lead him to the bedroom.

He waits anxiously as he watches you go into the bathroom and bring out one of the tests and show it to him.

He freezes.

Eye darting up at you and the test.

Breathing growing heavy as he processes what you're showing to him, you're taken aback when he yanks you forward and presses his lips tightly against yours, the test drops from your hand and soon, you're pressed up against the near wall as Aemond continues to kiss you, hand trailing up your shirt, pulling your bra down before pawing at your breast.

You hiss into his mouth at the sensitivity and he slowly massages it, thumb tracing over your nipple, rubbing circles as he shoves his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp.

He grinds his hip against yours, and you can feel how hard he is, bulge pressing against you, he pulls away with a wet click, breathing heavily, you can see by the way his eyes shine brightly that he is happy, looking at you with so much adoration, his lips trail down your neck, pressing kisses there and you gasp, hands entangled in his hair.

He pulls back slightly before undoing his pants, still in his suit having arrived from work just a few moments ago, he removes his coat before letting it fall on the ground and then his tie, unbuttoning a few buttons of his shirt. Then he presses against you once again, kissing you so desperately before grabbing you by your thighs and lifting you, you wrap your legs around him to maintain balance.

Just like that he pulls you off the wall and takes you over to the bed, laying you down on it as he hands work to undo your clothes, pulling off your top and bottoms, leaving you only in underwear, but soon that's off too, and now you were fully bare to the the world.

It was arousing, watching him be fully clothed while you had nothing covering you, leaving you feeling slightly vulnerable. He pulls his cock out of its confinement and gives it some pumps.

He spreads your legs apart, revealing your folds to him, burning holes into the sight, and then he enters inside, you moan so loudly at the intrusion, that he has his hand slapping over your mouth once again, “Be quiet, what if he hears?” he hisses softly and you felt an extreme amount of deja vu but you nodded, biting your lip, gripping the sheets below as arch your back.

And just as he was about to start moving, you hear Aenys, knocking on the door.

“Mum!! Are you okay?” you hear his voice and Aemond quickly pulls out, “Fuck, seven hells.” groaning, annoyed by the intrusion and plops down on the bed next to you, and you put on your clothes as fast as you can, before fixing your hair and opening the door.

“Momma! I heard you screaming, are you okay.” he asks, his eyes looking at you with such concern and you smile at him gently, trying to ignore the heat in your face due to embarassment, and nod, Aemond appears behind you and Aenys is surprised to see him.

“Papa's home!” he beams brightly and Aemond picks him up, “Did you not have work papa?” he asks and Aemond answers with a quick no.

“Your mother called me for an emergency. So I rushed over.” He answers and Aenys looks at you concerned.

“What happened mama?” he looks at you, asking you a question, eyebrows raising in concern as his voice becomes less hearable at the end, worried that you were badly hurt.

“Nothing too serious Aenys, it's just that- you know how you told me you always wanted a sibling?” you ask and he nods, “Well, you are getting one, I'm pregnant.” and he squeals in joy.

“Right now?!!!” he asks, which makes you and Aemond chuckle, “Not right now, it will take time.” Aemond tells him and Aenys pouts, “But I can't wait that long!” he sulks and you chuckle.

Aemond didn't know what happened to him the moment you started to swell, the proof of his seed taking as your womb stretched to accommodate the growing foetus, which inevitably caused your tummy to grow, drove him mad.

You looked so pretty with his child in your belly, you were still taking classes, Aemond had requested for them to be conducted online as you cannot travel back and forth, he didn't want to risk your comfort and travelling too much can cause stress for you.

You were 6 months along, and Aenys often talked to your belly, saying things like 'I can't wait for you to come out! I have my toys, hopefully you'll like them!' And then rubbing your stomach. Though he was extremely confused at first, at how a literal human being is growing inside you.

Aemond can never take his hands off your bump, he would rest his head on it gently, press a few kisses and tell the unborn baby how much he loves them, he sometimes dozes off on it, feeling comforted.

He became more physical, well not like he was any less physical, but it was becoming more noticeable and desparate now.

Which led to the moment now.

Him pounding himself deep into you, not hard enough to hurt you but just enough as his hand is placed on your belly gently, caressing the bump before it makes its way up towards your breast, playing with the nipple and pulling on it.

Your hands were held behind your back, face pushed down unto the bed as he took you from behind, watching as your body kept jolting and the moans helplessly leaving your mouth.

“F-fuck Aemond I'm close!” you whimper and he grunts, “Cum for me baby, soak my cock.” he responded and that was enough for you to just reach your peak.

You moaned loudly into the room, and soon after, he came too, spilling himself inside you and pulling out, you quickly turned on your back and laid in exhaustion, hand resting on the bump as you breathed in deeply.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks concerned but you shake your head no, “No, I'm just tired.” you tell him and he places a kiss on your forehead before cleaning both you and himself up.

The pains you felt were unbearable, the contractions being extremely painful as you tried to breath in, just like the nurses had instructed, and you pushed as much as you can, gripping the sheets and Aemond's hand tightly, it hurt for him but he knew you were in more pain than him.

You huffed in exhaustion, not being able to push anymore, eyes drooping off into slumber, sweat covering you, the pain was keeping you awake but making you weak at the same time, and the moment Aemond saw how your grip loosened on his hand, he panicked.

His soul left his body in that moment for a second.

No way.

Please gods no.

Not her.

Not her as well.

His lone eye widened, as his mind raced.

Truth be told, when you were nearing the final month of your pregnancy, he became more paranoid, wondering if you'll suffer the same fate as Alys, and he didn't want that, and yet the scene in front of him was pointing exactly in that direction.

Maybe he was cursed.

Maybe any woman that gives birth to his children is doomed.

A thousand thoughts flowed in and out.

Until he felt your grip tighten again, accompanied by a loud scream as you gave the final push, your ears were ringing and your head spinning, but soon everything was silenced by the sound of a newborn baby crying.

“It's a girl.” they announced.

You let out a shaky breath as you watched in tiredness while the doctors cleaned the baby up and tended to you, before giving the baby to you, you smiled at her, the babe now more calm and cooing.

You noticed her white tuft of hair atop of her head, smiling at the fact that she got her father's looks, and you turned to look at Aemond who seemed to be in daze.

You were alive.

He was happy that the baby was born, but he was more happier that you made it out alive.

“What do you wish to name her?” Your tired voice asks him and he snaps out of his daze, taking in his daughter's features.

Though she is yet to grow to her full features, Aemond already knew that she was already resembling him, her eyes opened to reveal the purple, which was currently resembling almost a dark shade as the baby was just born.

“Daenys.” He answers and you smile.

“Such a pretty name, similar to Aenys.” you comment and he smiles.

It had already been a year since that day, the day Daenys was born, and she was already turning one, Aemond got all emotional, shedding a few tears at the pictures of her first birthday before his attentions snaps to her running around with her brother Aenys, or more like tries to run, it's just her speed waddling considering how she only learnt to walk recently.

You can clearly tell Aemond has a hard time accepting that his kids are growing up.

“Baaaaa Awenys!” She babbles his name in frustration and he giggles before stopping and letting her come to him. Aenys was such a good older brother, he was already protective of his sister, not letting any harm come her way.

“Be careful Daenys.” he watches as you go up to them and sit down with them, probably having finished your online classes. Aemond shifted his office to his house, mostly working from home since he decided he wanted to spend more time with his family, especially his wife.

Yes, wife.

You both got married soon after.

He decided to finally go through with his plan.

And he had never been so happy in his entire life.

You watched as Aenys took his sister in his playroom and started playing with her, sharing his toys, you smiled at the heart warming sight before coming over to sit next to Aemond on the couch.

“Feels like only yesterday I gave birth to her.” you tell him, noticing the pictures he took on her 1st birthday.

He leans his head against your shoulder, breathing your scent in, “Hmm.” he hums, agreeing with you.

“I want one that has your features.” the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them and you look at him, “I mean- both aenys and daenys look like me, or at least, have my features, I want a kid that has yours, your [hair-color] coloured hair.” he lifts his head up and caresses your hair, you give him a smile.

“What are we waiting for then?” you tease and his eye widens before he smirks too.

“I'll call my mother to pick them up.” he says hurriedly, way too excited and quickly dials her number which makes you huff out a laugh.

Getting some alone time with kids around is tough, and getting some action while at it? Nope not happening.

It's not like Aemond blamed the kids for it, but he missed you, he often reminisced about the days in the past where he would fuck you on every surface possible when Aenys was asleep or not around, but now he isn't able to do that anymore, considering you both got busy with kids and work.

And the way motherhood suited you so much only made it worse, he has to constantly not think about wanting to get you pregnant over and over again, he loves it way too much for it to be normal, though he doesn't rob you of your independence.

Aenys and Daenys were so confused when Alicent came to pick them up, she gave you a knowing smirk and you blushed slightly, Aenys refused to go but Alicent somehow convinced him and so they went.

And now you both are alone.

Aemond had your hands tied above your hand and he took his sweet time with your body, kissing every inch that he missed for the past few months, savouring each and every little moment, the way his mouth would latch on to your nipple, leaking your sweet milk into his mouth, and he moans at the taste.

Though you had weaned off Daenys just recently, you still produced some amount of milk for a bit until your body had to adjust and realise that it shouldn't produce milk anymore since you aren't feeding anymore, and with Aemond now suckling it seems it might take a while.

“Fuck it tastes so divine.” he asserts, his hand moving up and down your body, giving the other breast a squeeze, and then he went lower and lower, fingers parting your folds as he dipped them inside, smirking at feeling how wet you were and you squirmed.

He started pumping them inside and out, watching as you gasped, hands struggling in their tied up state, he continued to suckle on your breast before shifting to the other one to do the same.

As you reach your peak on his fingers, he deattaches himself and pulls his fingers out, giving them a long sensual lick, before shoving them into your mouth, and you obey his silent command, sucking on it.

He pulls them out and his hands grap the underside of your thighs and lifts your hips, settling in a position where your legs rested on his shoulder as he entered in one swift motion, morning when he felt the ridge of your wall, he thrusted up into you violently, making you moan out loud and struggle to keep your hands still, nails digging into your own flesh at the pleasure being given to you.

He closed his eyes when he felt you clench around him, trying to stop himself from cumming before you, though it seemed to fail when he heard you let out a moan of his name, he grunted and spilled himself inside you, but continued to move, his hand rubbed circles unto your clit, urging you to reach your orgasm and you do.

“Fuck! Aem!” you throw your head back, as it hits you as a shock, electricity travelling up your body.

And that was the night Aenys' and Daenys' little sibling, a girl, once again, Aelora, was created.

Just like Aemond had hoped, she was born with your features, though she had one purple eye and one of your eye colour.

Aemond was content with his life, and you are finally pursuing your career and maintaining a healthy balance between work and life.

Everything was perfect.

———

GENERAL TAGLIST:

@watercolorskyy @cl-0-vr @chompchompluke @namelesslosers @snowystark @spookyaemond @sweethoneyblossom1 @this-isnt-madness @persephonerinyes @eltherevir @sidni3003 @aleidag1rly @cryingforlife @fan-goddess @hannaeditzs @grungegrrrl @thekinslayersswordhand @aemondsbabygirl

DM TO BE REMOVED!

PART TWO TAGLIST:

@marihoneywk @nightdiamond866 @targaryenmoony @siriusdumblittlepuppy @givemeeverything

2K notes · View notes

mingigoo · 2 months

Text

look after you || k.hj (m.)

🩺 pairing ⇢ nurse! (fem) reader x struggling musician! Hongjoong

🩺 synopsis ⇢ after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...

🩺 genre/au ⇢ enemies to lovers (kind of), some angst, smut, fluff, hospital au

🩺 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, injury, car accident, hospital scenes, unprotected sex, undefined relationship, mention of possible suicide attempt, Hongjoong is a scruffy underground musician, trauma with touch, tattoo!joong, grumpy sunshine, cum shot, biting, teasing

🩺 word count ⇢ 10.3k

🩺 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

masterlist

A/N ⇢ this story is purely fictional! I am not nurse, and do not have unlimited knowledge on this topic. However, I am a healthcare worker, so I know a little, but not a lot. I am sorry for any information this is incorrect. This is meant for entertainment purposes only. This is not meant to take place in reality.

They never prepare you enough for the things you might see within the hospital walls.

Nothing is ever enough within those few years of education, the desperate attempt to create life savers. No one tells you how much it hurts to see a child suffer until death, a mother, a daughter.

You just wanted to be something. Do something. Be like the girl you dreamed of being as a child—a child who put bandaids on her mother, all over, decorating her like a painting. Sometimes, your mother would act like she was hurt, just for you to play make-belief, “stitching” up her “wounds.”

And here you were, in the hospital locker room, tears falling silently down your cheeks as you unclipped your hair, letting it fall just like the tears. You sniffed, hiding your face in the locker, although no one was around to see. It was embarrassing enough to yourself—you couldn't believe you were crying. You just…couldn't stop.

The day was rough—just too much. Too much death, too much sadness. This wasn't what you dreamed of. You never thought about how hard it would be to put a smile on your face to a patient, right after witnessing someone leave the world. To act, really. You should've taken up that career instead. You were pretty damn good at doing it—well, until you landed behind the curtain.

You haven't slept in ages. It's been constant insomnia on top of twelve-hour shifts, sometimes even longer, and once you are able to lay down, the only thing you hear is the sound of a patient crashing, the cries of family members. It had you questioning your profession. Your devotion. Your childhood.

As you made your drive home, for some reason, the lines on the road soothed you. Your eyes began to beg for sleep, rolling back ever so slightly as you continued. The gentle patter of rain graced the windshield, the red hue of the stoplight in front of you nearing.

You stopped at the light—pausing to look at the city around you. The city was bright, even at the dark hour of midnight. People were walking, carrying on, bar lights bright, apartments lit up in an array of colors. You took in a breath and closed your eyes.

And you closed them a little too long when a car horn sounded behind you.

You jumped, feeling apologetic for holding up the line, and continued forward. People passed you with impatience, but you didn't care. You kept going, crawling, really, till you felt sleep creep up once again, shutting your eyes. You drifted off, only for a short moment, and suddenly you awoke with haste—but not quick enough. In your headlights stood a man, walking across the street, and you didn't have enough time to move. You slowed as best you could, tires screeching, praying to anything, anyone, that this was your imagination.

As your car came to a screeching halt, you hit the man with a thump, causing him to crumble to the ground. You gasped, now wide awake, a scream caught in your throat.

You swallowed hard, hands shaking as you pulled over as best as you could and put your vehicle in park, looking around for any sign of someone.

No one, absolutely no one, but you and this man you just hit. Just a few blocks back, the city was bustling, bars were hopping, but now, it was like a wasteland. You stepped out of your car, gasping for air, and sprinted through the rain to get to the man.

He was lying still, his head bleeding, his back on the asphalt. His black clothing hid the damage he received from the hit, hiding his body, his black hair covering his face. The only thing you saw was the black ink of a tattoo on his hand as it grasped the road.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, kneeling down to him. You assessed him as best as you could, fighting an anxiety attack. “I am so sorry, oh my god.”

He groaned in response, his arm visibly broken. You hurriedly dialed the emergency line, panting, nearly in tears. You didn't even think about the consequences of this action—you were only worried about the man, the stranger, in front of you.

After nearly crying once more on the phone, the paramedics explained that they would arrive quickly. You hung up and looked over the stranger once more. “Are you alive?” you asked like a dumb ass, nearly face-palming. You were a nurse, goddammit. Act like one.

You leaned over him, as gently as possible, putting a finger under his nose, and you felt a soft breath hit it. You checked for an airway obstruction, but nothing. He was breathing fine. In pain, but breathing.

The man tried to move, to roll over sharply, but you quickly bellowed, “Wait, please, you could have a spinal injury,” you pleaded, and surprisingly he stopped. “Don't move.” You caught a glimpse of his face. A large cut near his eyebrow painted his skin crimson, but his eyes were beautiful. His lip was cut, too, and you felt immense pain just looking at him. God, what if he was homeless? He looked it. What if he didn't have insurance? Oh god—

You saw how much blood was coming from his head as he looked up at you. His eyes were hazy, like he wasn't really seeing. You hurriedly looked around for anything to stop his bleeding, and when you found nothing, you took your coat off, then your scrub top, and you quickly put your coat back on. You held your shirt to his head as gently as possible, applying pressure, praying that the paramedics would come soon—

Your anxious thoughts were interrupted by sirens. You let out a sigh of relief.

When the ambulance pulled up, two men came to you with a stretcher. You were barely alert enough to hear them say anything. You mumbled a few things, your hands shaking as they set down the gurney. You mumbled to have them put on a neck brace, chest tightening at how the man cried in pain. You let out an ugly cry with him, but no tears fell. They gently rested him on the stretcher, his head steady, but his arm—

“Are you crazy!” you hissed, standing up quickly. “His arm….he needs his arm stabilized!”

“I’m sorry, mam,” the one man condescendingly said, giving you a dull look. “We know how to do our job. We don't need your input.”

You huffed. Mam? Mam? That was insulting. “I’m a nurse, I also know what I’m talking about.”

They ignored you like everyone seemed to ignore you. They began to move away, but a small object caught their eye that lay right where the man was. You picked it up, finding it to be an empty wallet—you’d give it back later.

They rolled him towards the ambulance, and you followed, forgetting about your car, and everything in it, leaving the scene behind. The paramedics didn't seem to care that you went with them, so you sat in the vehicle, watching them treat the guy you hit. You wanted to throw up as they treated him, as you sat still, like a worthless piece of paper. A crumbled-up piece of paper. Yeah. Crumbled.

When you arrived at the hospital—a hospital that wasn't yours, you walked beside the homeless man, nearly reaching for his hand. However, your race with him was put to a stop as the emergency room staff stopped you as he headed into the wing.

“I’m sorry, only family members are allowed inside,” the woman softly muttered, her eyes genuine.

She reminded you of yourself.

What….what if this man was really homeless? What if he had no help, no insurance, no family? You had to do something. You’d feel horrible if you didn't do anything.

“I’m—I’m his wife!” you blurted out, louder than you intended.

The young lady gave you a heartfelt look and nodded towards the door. “Go ahead. There’s a waiting room inside. What’s your name? I’ll let them know you’re the guardian.”

You told her your name, sparing no second longer than needed, and you ran into the emergency room, sitting down in a hurry.

It was now a waiting game.

—

For what seemed like forever, a doctor came out into the waiting room, looking right at you.

“Miss y/n?” He asked.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “….You are Kim Hongjoong’s guardian?”

You paused, almost forgetting your whole spiel at the entrance. You remembered the name from his ID in his wallet, and nodded sharply, standing up quickly. “Is he all right?”

“He sustained many injuries, but nothing too major. His arm is broken in three places, and that will limit his mobility quite a lot. We set his arm, but he might possibly need surgery.”

You nodded, relief washing over you. Good, minor injuries. Phew.

The doctor pondered for a long while as he stared at you. “The paramedics stated that you were the one to hit him with the car.”

You sighed. “Yeah, he came out of nowhere—”

“Why was he walking alone so late at night?”

You looked around the waiting room, seeing only one other soul in the corner seat, sleeping. You wondered about what to say, as your little white lie was becoming a web.

“I uh….he works late?”

“He was intoxicated at the time of the accident—”

“He works at a bar?” you tried not to sound like you were questioning that statement.

The doctor deadpanned and then sighed. “Listen, I’m sure there's stuff that’s none of my business. So I’m going to choose to ignore this,” he nodded toward the emergency wing. “But you’re welcome to go see him. He’s awake now.”

You wondered for a second whether you should go back there. If he was going to rip your head off for lying, for hitting him with your damn car.

You nodded, telling yourself to grow some damn balls. “Okay, I’ll see him.”

The doctor led you to a room at the very end of the hall, the lights dim. There, in front of you, was the man you hit. He was all bandaged up, a large one spanning around his forehead, covering some of the spikey black hair. His arm was wrapped in a cast and held up for circulation, and his eyes were wide open. Right on you.

“Your wife is here,” the doctor spoke nonchalantly as he entered with you. However, you were stationary at the door.

“Wife?” he scoffed, coughing a bit. He tried to sit up, but you put on your act, walking up to his bedside.

“Don't move,” you spoke sweetly, eyes pleading. The attractive man just furrowed a brow, his lips curling down in a grimace.

“We’re gonna keep you here for observation tonight, and see how you are doing in the morning to keep an eye on that arm of yours.” The doctor quickly did what he needed to do and left, leaving you alone with….your husband?

The pretty homeless guy spared no second in the questioning. “Who the fuck are you?”

Your eyes widened, looking down at him. He gazed up at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. A tattoo peaked out of his hospital gown, where it met the skin of his neck.

“Listen,” you sat down roughly on the seat next to the bed. He watched you emotionlessly. “I’m sorry—I didn't see you when you walked across the road. I take full responsibility,” you breathed, getting nervous under his gaze.

You were expecting him to scream at you. Well, at least to freak out in some way. It was more alarming that he sat still, completely still, his mouth set in a line.

You blinked.

“I don't care, it’s fine,” he sighed. He showed no emotion, nothing. Not even a twinkle of anger. It was the look in his eye that told you that maybe, just maybe, he ran in front of your car on purpose.

Your eyes widened at the man in front of you—at hongjoong in front of you. He looked distraught tired, brown eyes never leaving your face as you gazed at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly, tilting his head.

“You can leave now,” he huffed, eyes dropping to your open mouth before darting up back to your eyes. “I’m not sure why you're even here in the first place.”

It was your turn to scoff. You crossed your legs in irritation at his lack of care. “Well, maybe because I hit you with my damn car? Maybe I’m worried, maybe I feel horrible, maybe I wanted to see if you were going to be okay.”

Hongjoong just blankly stared. He didn't show any signs of pain, of anger, of anything, really.

“You don't have to worry,” he spoke eventually, turning away from your gaze to look forward. You watched the tattoo dance against his neck as he moved. “I’m fine. This is all fine.”

You didn't know what to say, how to feel. Your head was spinning, all the tiredness washed away. It pained you to see him so empty, so barren, even though he was a stranger. “I feel like I need to do something for you.”

He bit the bottom of his busted lip, as if forgetting. He made a face, the only expression he’s shone. “No need.”

“But I need to,” you leaned forward, closer to him. He turned to you, eyes void. “I’ll pay for your hospital bill, maybe treat you for a dinner, I don't know—”

“Don't,” he hissed. His eyes grew dark, the fire in them rising. You nearly shrunk back in response to his sudden change of attitude. “Listen, just forget about this, about me, all of it. I don't need your money, or your time, or—” he paused, his anger faltering as he looked at you. “Just…just carry on with your life. I’ll only affect it if I stay in it.”

You frowned, wondering what he meant by that. It didn't matter, though. Your guilt was all-consuming—and the fact that he most likely ended up in front of the car on purpose really was overbearing.

After a second of just…staring at one another, you sighed. “One meal.”

He didn't make a face. Didn't change his plain, empty expression. You looked at his starless eyes, his pale skin. You had the need to brighten him up, to heal him. That was your job, after all.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse came in before he could say a word. You immediately straightened, putting on a smile, hoping he would keep up the act even though he had no reason to. You didn't want to be kicked out—not right now.

“How are we feeling, Hongjoong?” the young nurse asked, a smile on her bright face.

“Fine, I guess.” His response was toneless. The nurse still bubbled around, checking his vitals. You watched as he stiffened as the woman touched him.

She looked at you, arching a brow. “Oh? Are you the wife?” she let out a hum of appreciation, then turned her gaze to Hongjoong. “You’re lucky with this one. They said she freaked out when they didn't stabilize your arm and when they wouldn't let her inside the emergency wing! She must really love you to nearly fight someone to get back here.”

Hongjoong, for the little time you knew him, showed more emotion on his face than ever after hearing that. After hearing that someone—you, a stranger nonetheless—was distraught at his expense. His lips flattened in a line, his gaze faltering.

You grabbed his good hand, although bruises were painted across his knuckles. Old, yellowing bruises. You furrowed your brows, subconsciously rubbing a thumb softly over the colored skin. Hongjoong stiffened, eyes widening, at either your caring touch or the pain it could have been causing. Or both.

You felt your stomach tighten as you met eyes with him. The air was stuffy, his eyes were….practically begging for a reason for your attention, as if he’d never had it before.

“I’m lucky to have him,” you sighed, acting but feeling an intense pull to him. Just touching him, although you didn't even know him, felt like a second nature.

Maybe it was the regret, the disparity, of hitting him, of being the reason his life was almost nonexistent. Maybe this feeling was because of the responsibility you felt for doing this to him. It didn't matter if it was true; this tension you were feeling with the stranger was more powerful than what you felt with your ex, the one before that, and the one before.

His face was devout of color besides the bruises that scattered his skin. He looked drained, tired, alone. The nurse just smiled at you two, noticing your bloody scrubs and messy exterior. “You’re a nurse, too?”

You just nodded, lost in the feeling that strummed through your body.

Hongjoong’s hand twitched under your hold, his eyes still wide. Still on you.

“Well, Hongjoong,” the friendly nurse smiled. “Don't let her go, she’s a keeper.”

He tore his gaze from you to look at your hand on his. He swallowed hard, blinking. “Ah, yeah.”

Soon after the nurse left, your hand still rested on his. He sat silently, staring forward at the whiteboard with his name on it.

“I….” you struggled with your words, realizing you were still caressing his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said as you pulled your hand away. His head shot towards you.

After a few moments of silence, he said, “It’s okay.” His tone was soft, defeated.

You wiped your hands on your thighs, sweating buckets. “I, uh, I should go.”

He watched you stand up, but your back was turned, unable to see the wishful glance he offered you.

You stopped in the door frame, turning around to meet his eyes once more.

“It was nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you smiled, watching the glimmer in his eye trying to sparkle. “I wish you well.”

Before you were able to leave the room, he called for you.

“Wait,” he breathed, voice raspy.

You froze.

He took a breath in, exhaling his words. “What’s your name?”

You turned around. “Y/n,” you spoke softly, your chest aching at the little half-smile peeking through his bruised lips.

“y/n,” he repeated, blinking slowly. He didn't say anything else. You didn't either. You smiled at him once more before turning on your heel and walking out of the room, despite the tear in your heart telling you to stay.

And on your way out, you paid his hospital bill in full, not a single regret in your mind about it.

—

After a few days, you continued your days like normal.

Well, as normal as they could be. Your mind wandered to the spikey haired guy at every sparing second, thinking of how his eyes pleaded something unreadable, how his hand twitched underneath yours.

You were at the hospital, reaching the end of your workday in the emergency room. After running in with a few scruffy-looking guys, they reminded you of a certain someone, and you just wanted to tear at your hair. You were certain your odd feelings were due to the fact that you hit him with your car, and nothing else. This will pass.

When the quietness of the night was about to still, a man ran into the emergency room door.

“My friend is hurt,” The man huffed in desperation. You turned to the commotion, seeing a thin, black-haired man holding up another—his friend. But that friend and his familiar spikey hair jolted something inside of you.

You jumped out of your seat behind the nurses’ station and ran to the men, meeting eyes with the taller one. He was just as beautiful as hongjoong was, but his eyes were frantic.

“Sir, what happened?” you questioned, reaching out to the man who was just who you thought. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his eyes squinted in pain, his teeth barred. You carefully steadied him. “What’s hurting you?”

At your voice, Hongjoong opened his eyes wide, looking straight at you. “Y/n?” he grunted out, his breaths strained. He shut his eyes again, and you almost couldn't take the look he had on his face.

“His arm,” the other guy said to you as you called for help, struggling to hold Hongjoong up. “He got into a fight at the bar, some guy decided to mess with his broken arm and, well…..”

You felt a sense of rage fill your body. You wanted to ask Hongjoong why the hell he was at the bar only days after getting hit by a damn car, let alone getting into a fight.

A few other nurses gathered around, all helping to walk him over to a bed. The wing was empty at this time of night—only a few people around. Once again, Hongjoong looked extremely uncomfortable as the nurses touched him.

You held him gently as you set him down on the bed, feeling his fingers curl around your arm.

He held on to you with his good arm—the hand you held only days before. The other nurses fluttered around, setting things up, but Hongjoong just stared up at you.

“Hi,” is all he said, his fingertips etching into your skin.

Your chest tightened, forcing yourself to smile. “We must be fated or something,” you joked, hoping to brighten him up. “That or you just frequent hospitals often.”

He blinked up at you, his eyebrows knitted in pain. “Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” He coughed as he joked.

Your heart skipped a beat, the other nurses and the man that came with him side-eyeing you.

“If you wanted to see me again, there are better ways than this,” you huffed, looking around. “We have to get an X-ray, alright? We’ll give you something to ease your pain meanwhile.”

The air between you two was undeniable. He nodded, emotion sparkling in his eyes, unlike the days before. You wondered if you were the reason for it.

It was probably just the pain.

The other nurses wheeled him to the radiology room, leaving you alone with the man who brought him there.

“You’re the girl that hit him, aren't you?” His voice was soft, gentle. It held no anger.

You turned to him, seeing the caring exterior he showed. “I….yes.”

He tilted his head at you, blinking, as if figuring you out in a single glance. “He’s been looking all over for you. You…paid his bill. He doesn't like handouts.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh? I didn't think he ever wanted to see me again. You know, I hit him with my car—that isn't something to take lightly—”

“You paid his bill,” the man repeated, crossing his arms. “He feels indebted to you. Please just make sure he knows not to feel that way.” The man sighed, looking into your eyes. “Despite how he looks, he ruminates over things. He’s sensitive. He’s a mess right now.”

You sighed, too. “I…I paid his bill because I did this to him—”

“No,” he interrupted, eyes serious. “You didn't.”

You knitted your brows. “....What do you mean?”

The man gave you a deadpan stare, as if not wanting to spell it out. He let out a breath he seemed to be holding. “He….he jumped in front of your car on purpose, y/n,” he bit his bottom lip. “So no, you really didn't do it to him. He’s…he’s just been a mess lately—and now that you acted sweet, played a wife, held his hand or whatever, he’s even more of a mess.”

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Hongjoong was back, alert and upright, but the pain still rested on his face. His gaze met yours, and you felt your stomach swirl in a mess of emotions.

You couldn't look him in the eye as you took care of him.

—

Hongjoong was sleeping as your shift was about to end. Before you clocked out, you couldn't help but go to him, check his injury out, check his vitals. His friend—Seonghwa, you learned his name—left about an hour ago.

As if noticing your presence, his eyes slowly peeked open, slightly drugged and delirious from the pain medications.

“I didn't expect to see you here,” he mumbled out, blinking lazily.

“I didn't expect you, either,” you spoke, keeping your emotions in check.

Silence enveloped you as you checked his pulse ox.

“Why’d you do that?”

He turned his head to look at you. “Do what?”

You unclipped the pulse oximeter from his finger. “Why’d you get into that fight? You were really injured.” You wanted to ask the deeper question, the question as to why he stepped in front of your car, but you didn't want to overstep.

He shrugged, wincing. He didn't have an answer. He didn't owe you one, really.

“Just,” you breathed, moving over to the computer to open his chart. “Just don't do anything like this while you’re healing. You need surgery. You need rest.”

He bit his lip, probably stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't.

“Also,” you sighed, looking over at him. “Your friend told me you were looking for me?”

“Yeah, well,” he scoffed. “I really didn't mean to meet you here.”

You let out a chuckle. “Well, here we are.”

He nearly smiled at you, lips curling beautifully. He had a bit of dried blood on his lip, and knowing that you were supposed to be leaving, you still reached for a washcloth. You didn't need to do this—in fact, you were acting against every thought in your head as you leaned forward and brushed the cloth against his lip, watching them part.

His breath hitched as you neared, as you touched him, and once again, his hand twitched, begging to touch you.

Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment too long, meeting his eyes. He stared at you, expression unreadable, lips parted.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

You took a second to study his face before you moved away from him. His eyes followed you as you put space between you and him, dark and beautiful.

You logged out of the portal on the computer. “We’ll move you to your own room before we prep you for surgery,” you said gently, heart aching as you met his gaze once more. “The doctor will tell you more.”

“Will you….be there for the surgery?” he showed no specific feelings as he asked the question.

“I am only part of the emergency department right now,” you shrugged. “I don't think so.”

He pondered for a second before nodding, settling himself back into the comfort of his hospital bed. “Okay,” he spoke softly.

You offered him a solemn look, causing him to stiffen.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” you repeated, confused.

He blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” you frowned.

“Like you feel sorry for me.” He looked pained, a deeper type of pain.

You thought about a response to that—you didn't necessarily feel sorry for him, you didn't pity him either. In fact, you just felt an immense feeling of wanting to see him happy, to see him without pain.

Which confused you incredibly, given that he was just a stranger.

“I don't feel sorry for you,” you clarified. “I just don't want you to be in pain.”

“You don't even know me,” he huffed, his expression contorting, and you figured that he didn't even know how he was feeling—what he was feeling. “Why would you even care if I’m hurting?”

You smiled at him. “Because you don't deserve the pain.”

He just stared at you, hazily, emotionally. There was a light in his eyes—a light that wasn't there the other day. “You don't know me well enough to know that.”

The air grew cold; you had nothing left to say. You wished he realized that he didn't have to suffer like this.

“Goodnight, Hongjoong,” you hummed, walking away, feeling his stare burn into your back.

—

The next day, you found yourself drawn to the bed Hongjoong was in yesterday. It was empty, with him now in a room of his own in another part of the hospital.

You typed away at your computer as your colleague, Yeosang, came up to you.

“Hey,” he leaned over the counter of the nurses’ station. “There's a guy asking for you.”

Yeosang, although very young, was a surgical resident in orthopedics. He was super smart, super sexy, super everything. You went to school together, spending lots of time in the library and everywhere else together.

“Who?” you mumbled without looking up.

“He’s a patient I’m prepping for an open reduction surgery, but he’s having a hard time letting anyone touch him. Says he only needs you or something.”

You looked up, hands freezing on your keyboard. Hongjoong. “He won't let anyone touch him?”

Yeosang sighed, propping his head up on his palm as he leaned on the counter. “We had to give him more pain medication, and it made him a bit….difficult. I suspect he has some sort of trauma.”

You frowned. “And why is he asking for me?”

Yeosang gave you a knowing look. “I don't know. He kept saying your name, saying he needed you.”

You tried to avoid the rush of blood to your cheeks. “I don't even know him.”

“Yeah, about that….” Yeosang looked a bit confused, a smile peeking through his lips. “He keeps calling you his wife.”

Oh, dear god. “How drugged is he?” you huffed, looking defeated.

Yeosang laughed. “I kept telling him that you weren't his wife, and he got super mad at me. He said only his wife can touch him. I really need him to stop this so I can get him into pre-op,” The surgeon sighed, giving you a pleading glance. “I’ll ask the attending if you can scrub in—”

“I’m an ER nurse,” you raised a brow. “I have other duties, Yeosang.”

“Y/n, please,” Yeosang pleaded, “ignore the rules or whatever. Can you just come and help me so we can get him into surgery?”

Your mind wandered to the fact that Hongjoong was having a hard time. Sure, he was delirious off of his meds and pain, but knowing that he was struggling with touch, a part of you crumbled.

So you followed Yeosang—after getting approved by the charge nurse, and went up to the third floor.

As you neared the room, you let Yeosang enter first.

“Mr. Kim, I have Nurse y/n here for you.”

There Hongjoong was, his eyes frantic, his breathing rushed. He was anxious, a mess. The nurses tried to ease him, and relax him, but he wasn't having it. That is, until he saw you in the doorway.

“y/n,” he breathed, as if he knew you forever. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief.

“Hi, Hongjoong,” you spoke softly, walking slowly near him. You sat in the chair next to his bed, scooting closer as the room emptied, Yeosang being the only other presence. “I heard you were asking for me.”

He blinked, his eyes lined with worry, with anxiety. For someone who looks so tough, he looks like a completely different person.

He didn't speak; he just looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression all over the place. You took a glance at Yeosang, who was observing you before you reached for Hongjoong's hand just like before.

The bruises were faded now, only old scars left on his skin. A tattoo trailed the skin of his arm. You went to rub his knuckles, but Hongjoong gripped your hand tightly.

You met his frantic gaze. No words were spoken. He just pleaded with his touch, his eyes. You knew he was scared.

“It's okay,” you hummed, fighting the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear. “It's a simple surgery. You will be just fine.”

He mumbled something, but you weren't able to catch it. Yeosang stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, the other nurses peering over his shoulder from the hall. Hongjoong’s gaze moved to the door, seeing everyone watching him.

And you realized that, more than being anxious, he was embarrassed, too.

You looked to Yeosang, giving him a desperate look, a silent cry for him to leave and to get those damn nosy bitches out, too. He complied, and they were alone once more.

“It’s alright,” you hummed, and this time, you did reach out to his face, gliding a gentle hand across his cheek. Without thinking, he leaned into your touch, craving it, longing for it, as if you were really his wife. “They’re gone now.”

His eyes were droopy, his lips downturned. He looked tough, someone with a rough exterior, but now, he was crumbling. He was alone. Alone to the point that he called for you, basically a stranger to him.

The moment could have lasted forever. His eyes bled into yours, yours into his, your hand on his cheek drawing circles into his skin. He took in a breath, and nodded.

“Will you let them take care of you?” you asked him gently.

He hesitated. You also did, as you realized that he leaned into your touch rather than avoiding it. That he felt comfortable with you—the one who hurt him. In his eyes, though, he didn't see it that way.

Your hand stilled on his cheek, his worried eyes lighting up a little. You didn't even realize that his good hand—the hand that you were holding just a minute before, was now resting on top of your hand that was on his cheek. He gripped it, his medical haze confusing him, confusing you.

You froze, your eyes wide. You allowed his fingers to interlock yours, having him hold your hand to his face as he shut his eyes. He was vulnerable. Human. Although he looked tough, looked troubled, he was just a person under all that trouble. Just a normal guy with normal feelings, normal fears.

And you were indebted to each other. You for hitting him, him for his gratefulness of your care.

“I’ll be there with you,” you murmured, knowing that Yeosang was still outside the room, close enough to hear, close enough to see. “I’ll be in the room while they’re operating.”

He nodded, his grip loosening slightly, but he still didn't release your hand.

“I’ll look after you,” you offered, and his eyes met yours once more.

He slowly let go of your hand, allowing you to move back. You looked at Yeosang through the window, giving him a curt nod for him to come back in.

Hongjoong let the other nurses touch him, but not without a grimace on his face. Yeosang’s words swirled around your mind; I suspect he has some sort of trauma.

Trauma. Trauma that didn't quite reach you—your touch. He allowed it, actually, he wanted it. You wondered what made him okay with yours. Why he needed you when you were the one to do this to him.

Eventually, Hongjoong entered the operating room, knocked out by anesthesia, but not without you holding his hand, making him childlike, making him….a normal human being.

—

After the surgery, Hongjoong sat in his bed even more dazed than before. Before the daze wore off, he kept calling you his wife, causing confusion to stir around the hospital.

As you left Hongjoong’s room to go back to the ER, Yeosang followed. “What’s this about?”

“I don't know what you mean.”

You walked faster.

“I mean, why does that guy keep calling you his wife?” Yeosang’s shoulder bumped into yours accidentally as you turned a corner. “And why are you the only one who can touch him? Why did you—”

You stopped suddenly. “Why did I what?”

Yeosang let out a breath. “Why did you….touch him like that? As far as I know, you….you aren't married.”

“I’m not married, you’re right,” you nodded, confused by why you touched him like that, too. Confused as to why he looked so relaxed with your touch rather than freaking out. “And…let’s just say we have met each other before. I did that to calm him down.”

You continued walking towards the elevator, Yeosang following still. “Okay, but you still didn't answer my question about why he keeps calling you his wife.” you pressed the down button and waited.

“Is that really any of your business?”

“Just a little—”

“Why?” you interrupted, turning towards him, arms crossed. “Why does it matter to you?”

You didn't mean to sound rude, you and Yeosang were good friends for a while. You've never dated, but you’ve flirted with each other occasionally. You never thought much of it other than being a little playful.

But the look on Yeosang’s face caused you to pause your racing thoughts. “Because I thought we…we had something going on?”

You blinked. “Do we?”

“I mean,” Yeo scoffed. “With the way you were looking at him, I don't think I have a chance.”

The elevator dinged, doors opening. You paused for a second before entering, Yeosang following.

It was quiet before the doors closed.

“I didn't think I looked at him any differently than anyone else,” you admitted honestly, causing Yeosang to look over at you.

He gave you a smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You feel something for him, huh?”

You frowned, leaning back against the wall. “I barely know him. I only…” you sighed. “I only met him twice.”

“But yet, you are the only one he allows to touch him,” Yeosang breathed as the elevator dinged on the first floor.

“That’s something to think about.”

—

Hongjoong was back to his normal self when you went to check on him in the evening; the anesthesia and meds had worn off. His arm was bandaged up and held in a sling, his eyes empty once more.

You hesitated on entering, but his stare moved to you.

For a second, you saw regret, and embarrassment, cross his face before melting back into a void stare.

You entered, but he didn't look at you. He avoided your gaze, too. Very unlike his earlier, medical high self.

You took his blood pressure, fingertips gently wrapping around his tattooed bicep as you put the cuff on. He didn't say anything, didn't even spare a passing glance. He just kept looking forward.

“119 over 79,” you mumbled out, letting loose of the cuff.

He nodded, coughing a bit. He didn't say anything, though.

“Dr. Kang told me that you’re cleared to be discharged,” you tried to start a conversation, but things just felt too awkward. You wrote down his vitals in his chart. “That’s good. Can I call anyone to pick you up? Maybe the guy that was here—”

“No,” he said quietly, looking down at his arm. “There is no one to call.”

“You need someone to help you. You just had surgery—”

“I have no one, y/n,” he hissed, finally looking at you. “Not like that’s any of your business, anyway.”

You didn't know what to say, so you just stared at him with confusion. He was putting his walls up.

“I just….don't want you to suffer alone,” you admitted.

“Why?” he let out a laugh, but it wasn't humorous. “I don't need your worry.”

“Okay,” you breathed, defeated. There was no point; he was just a stranger, just a man. Although, this feeling you had about him was overwhelming. And when you touched him, you wanted to hold him longer. Wanted him to feel better.

You left the room without a glance toward him and carried on the rest of your day as best you could.

—

Hongjoong was sitting on the bench outside the hospital entrance, head low, as if sleeping.

You knew you should keep walking. You shouldn't give him any attention, any time of day. But your chest ached as you got closer and closer, and as you reached him, you couldn't bear to walk past him.

“Why are you still here?” you asked him, keeping a good amount of distance away from him.

At your voice, he looked up quickly, as if waiting for you despite his nastiness earlier.

He took a second to respond. “I, uh, I’m just sitting here.”

You looked him over. His black hair was no longer styled spikey, it laid flat across his forehead softly. His tattoos were on full display in the black t-shirt he wore.

“You don't have anywhere to go,” you meant to ask it like a question, but it came out more like a declaration. He furrowed his brows at your words but didn't deny it.

“I’m fine, I’ll figure it out,” he sniffed, the cold air dancing around him. He didn't even have a coat.

Without thinking, you spoke quickly. “Come with me.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because,” you huffed, taking a step closer to him. “I owe you.”

“For what?” he spat out, probably not intending to sound rude.

You gave him an honest look, and his eyes softened. “Did you just forget that I hit you with my car? That I broke your arm?”

He just sat there, blinking slowly. “You don't owe me anything, y/n.”

You reached your hand out. His own hand twitched. “Come with me.”

After a long moment of just staring at your outstretched hand, he let his hand find yours, standing up at his full height. You got a good look at his face, his eyes, his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful.

You held his hand as you walked to your car, feeling a flutter of emotion in the pit of your stomach.

When you got to the car, you helped him into the passenger seat, despite his aggravated digs at you. You leaned over him, buckling his seatbelt, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.

You paused, frozen, inches away from his lips.

He swallowed hard, eyes glancing down at your lips. He didn't make a move. You didn't, either.

You pulled away, forcing yourself to get out of his personal space to shut the door. You saw him tilt back his head and take a deep breath before you got to the driver's seat.

As you drove, you asked random questions like a goddamn idiot.

“So, uh,” you swallowed, looking over at him for a second. “What do you do for a living?”

What kind of damn question is that?

“I’m a musician,” he mumbled, looking out the window. “Kind of.”

“Ah,” you nodded, thinking of what to say next. Now you were thinking way too much into things. “What do you play?”

He looked down at his arm, sighing. “Well, I played the guitar, piano, some other things. I don't think I’ll be picking anything up for a while.”

“You will, eventually,” you tried to encourage him, but he just kept his gaze even out the window. You arrived at your apartment, pulled into the parking lot, and shut off the car. “We’re here.”

He nodded, watching you get out of the car. You opened his door, and with slight hesitation, you leaned over him again to unbuckle his seatbelt, but before you could, he stopped you with his good arm.

You paused, inches from his face, meeting his eyes.

“Thanks,” he muttered quietly. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”

“You don't have to be sorry,” you whispered, feeling an immense pull to him, to his lips.

You ignored the urge and unbuckled the belt, but you didn't back away. Not like you could, anyway, with Hongjoong’s grip on your arm tightening.

The belt slowly slipped off of him.

He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dancing with emotion. “I was just… embarrassed. And drugged, and uh, well,” he paused, thinking. “Mostly embarrassed. I can't believe I freaked out over a little surgery. That’s so lame—”

“No, it's not,” you hummed softly, delicately. “It's a normal fear.”

He smiled. Actually smiled. From the little time you knew him, you haven't seen a genuine smile on his face. Or any sort of light, really.

“Thanks, uh,” he sniffed. “Thanks again. For looking after me.” his eyes fell to your lips. “You don't even know me, and you still…” he trailed off.

You realized that you were inhaling the air he was exhaling, that you were eye to eye, almost nose to nose. His breaths were shaky, labored, and tired.

“I would want someone to look after me in the same way,” You whispered. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” he tilted his head upward, leaning against the headrest, warm, brown eyes on full display.

“Mhm,” you swallowed.

His eyes glimmered. He didn't have anything to say, and you didn't either. Realizing that you were shrinking the space ever so slowly, you took the opportunity to back away from the musician. He let go of your arm, but not without a little tug on it beforehand.

You cleared your throat as he got out of the car. You shut the door for him, and you walked together—slowly, till you reached your apartment door.

When you entered, hongjoong strayed back behind the door, not entering. You turned to face him, eyebrow raised.

“Come in,” you beckoned, and with one more second of hesitation, he followed you in, shutting the door behind him.

He surveyed the place, his eyes finding the piano that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes danced as if surprised to see it there.

The air was thick. The room was quiet. You tossed off your shoes with ease, noticing his struggle with his own, so you bent down the help him. He didn't pull away, didn't speak. He just let you take care of it—of him.

“I don't mean to be a bother,” he mumbled as you untied his shoe. “But I’d really like to shower.”

You glanced up at him. “Oh,” you nodded, taking off his shoe before standing up. “Sure. it’s the first door down the hall.”

He didn't make any move. He stood, a confused, shy look resting on his face.

And then you realized.

He had no clothes to change into. Nothing. He also only had one working arm, and one covered in material that couldn't get wet.

“I can help you,” you trailed off, trying not to read too much into his stare.

“If you comfortable with that.”

—

In the bathroom, Hongjoong stood anxiously as you waited for the water to warm up. It took a second, and most of the time, the hot water only lasted so long.

You figured a shower would be too difficult to help him with without seeing too much. You opted for a warm bath, filling the water up once it got hot enough. You made sure to add some suds to it, so he wasn't too uncomfortable.

When you turned around to face him, his eyes were cloudy, his lips in a line.

“Do you….not like baths?” you mumbled, scratching your head. “I probably should've asked you before I—”

“It’s not that.” His eyes met yours, switching his weight onto his other leg.

You didn't pry, knowing he was just probably embarrassed that he needed help for something as trivial as a bath.

Walking toward him, he backed up into the door. You nearly smirked but maintained your cool as you grabbed the plastic bag off the sink counter. “I just have to wrap your cast in this. It'll just be a second. You might want to take your shirt off before I….”

He blinked, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“I don't think you normally bathe in clothes,” you murmured slyly, tilting your head. “Unless you like that.”

He didn't move. His body was as stiff as a board, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Just take your shirt off, dammit, or I’ll do it for you.”

You saw his expression change the minute the words left your mouth.

His good hand found the hem of his t-shirt, hesitating to take it off. You realized that he probably did need your help with taking it off, but with the look in his eye, you weren't sure what would happen if you got any closer to him.

But you moved closer, anyway, setting the plastic bag back onto the counter. His back was nearly up against the wooden door, his breath hitching as your fingertips gently pulled at the fabric.

“Why are you….so okay with this?” he breathed before you could pull the shirt up.

You met his gaze, his eyes unreadable. Almost as if he didn't know what he was feeling, either.

“I told you already,” you shrugged, smiling.

He blinked, his eyes red with emotion, begging to send a flood down his cheeks. “I don't deserve your help.”

“You do, though.” Ever so slowly, you began to pull his shirt, soft, carved abs appearing as you moved it up. “Because you know, you don't have to suffer alone.”

“Who said I was suffering?” he croaked out, his eyes, his tone, spilling his guts out on the floor for her to see.

You didn't say anything. You just slowly tugged the black t-shirt over his casted arm, watching him wince slightly. Then, he stood, half-naked, emotionally charged in front of you. He was no longer a stranger. No longer someone that you classified as a patient, either.

His eyes spoke volumes, his good hand twitching at his side. You looked at it, and took it in your own.

“Come on,” you nodded behind you. “I’ll help.”

He looked like he was ready to cry. Ready to break down. He didn't, though, and you walked him over to the bath. You unbuttoned his jeans, but turned around as he stepped out of them and into the tub.

The soap covered his lower body, all that was on display was his torso, his slim shoulders, the tattoos inked on his tanned skin. He didn't break away from your gaze as you began to wash him.

“I feel….something I shouldn't be feeling,” he swallowed, his voice raspy, tender, defeated.

“And what’s that?” you wondered before running your hands through his silky hair, coating the strands in your lavender shampoo.

He shut his eyes, sighing. “I don't know what it is, but what I do know is, for some reason, your touch is very calming when everyone else’s hurts me.”

You paused, hands still tangled in his locks, but he opened his eyes.

A confession of feelings—worth more than any other cliche words. He stared up at you, heart on his sleeve, confusion and fear and everything in between dancing around his eyes.

“For the first time,” he whispered, the only sounds in the room being your shaky breathing and the quiet trickle of water from the spigot. “I feel…comfortable being touched. I….need it.”

His lips parted, his hair dripping wet, your hands still frozen within the strands. You didn't know how to respond, didn't know exactly how you felt, either. But you also knew one thing, and it became ever so apparent as his hand slowly reached your cheek, wet fingertips leaving a trail of soap across your skin.

You blinked slowly.

Softly, gently, you moved forward, over the tub, and brushed your lips against his. His eyes remained open from shock, but his lips moved slowly along with yours.

You pulled away, but didn't go too far, resting your forehead against his. His breaths tickled your skin, sending a blush to your cheeks.

Emotions are complex. You didn't know exactly why you kissed him. Why you needed to. Why you wanted to do it again. But what you did know was that you liked how his touch felt, liked the little smile that appeared as you kissed him, liked how he gently pulled you back into another kiss.

You took in his breath as you kissed once more, this time a bit more urgent. Your hands gripped his soapy hair, his hand rested softly on your cheek, his thumb on the corner of your lips, his fingers tickling the lobe of your ear.

He kissed you like he knew you forever. Like he knew just how you liked it. You found your hand trailing down his tattooed neck, fingers dancing on the ink, his dewy skin, his tongue in your mouth.

You parted once more, so close, breaths tangling, fingers scrunching. His breath was hot against your face, his dark eyes pleading.

You’d so get on top of him in that damn tub. You wanted to, so bad. But you remembered that his arm was hurt, that you were the one that did it, and you nearly stood up to move away before he gripped you by the arm.

“Don't go,” he breathed hazily.

So you didn't. You washed him, this time, knowing that you were begging to end this bath and fuck him silly till the sunrise. Till the warm, glow of the burning star fluttered through your blinds. And with that damn look on his face, you knew he was thinking about it, too.

You helped him out of the bath, not turning around this time. He stood slowly, body on full display, even more tattoos, even more scars covering the skin you didn't get to see.

You sheepishly handed him a towel. He took it, but didn't use it to cover himself up.

“You’re not dating that damn doctor, are you?” he spoke, his tone serious, deep. Sensuous.��

You breathed out, “No.”

He grinned, cheshire-like. “Good.”

You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off. He wanted to claw at your skin like some goddamn animal, his expression pained in all of the right ways.

You needed air. God, this bathroom was stuffy.

Turning on your heel, you forced yourself to walk out of the damn room, because if you didn't, Hongjoong would become something far more stranger than, well, a stranger to you.

But he had other plans. More impulsive plans.

He followed you out of the bathroom and into your main living space. He gripped your hand, his fingertips gently pressing into your skin. When you turned to face him, he was dripping wet onto the lightwash wood floor, beads of water collecting on the ends of his hair. His eyes were wide, begging you for something, anything.

So you gave up on your act.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?” you wheezed, smiling as his eyes widened even more. “Is that what you want?”

You stepped closer to him at his silence, and arched your body against his bare torso, feeling the hardness of him press your thigh, his lips begging to meet yours once more.

You teased him, lifting your mouth to his, letting out a sigh. He shivered as your hands felt up his bare skin, and your hot breath tickled his face.

He nearly growled, his good arm wrapping around your waist swiftly, tugging your body towards him completely, holding you here as his mouth crashed to yours. His broken arm begged to touch you, too, and without thinking, he moved it quickly. He hissed in pain, his arm definitely hurting him, but he didn't care as much as you did. You tried to part from his lips, to ask him if he was okay, but he bit hard down on your lip to keep you from speaking.

You moaned while he stuck his tongue down your throat, his hand now tearing at your top, your waistband. You hurriedly tore off your clothes for him, giving him no second to stare at your body before tossing yourself onto him again. He grunted, moaning into your mouth, the vibrations tickling every part of you. He pushed you back, nearly tripping over the throw rug, the coffee table, until your back slammed into the keyboard of your piano.

The keys slammed as your ass hit them roughly, the musician making music without even intending to. His hips bucked into yours, your core right where he needed it, his dick pulsing, aching to be inside you. You lifted your hips, grinding them against his cock, gaining pleasure in his expression.

He nearly whined as you bit his ear lobe, his hips shifting into you, begging for you.

“Can I get inside you?” he moaned, eyes frantic. “I need you, fuck, I need it bad.”

In more ways than one, he needed you, but now, he needed your body. Needed your touch, your moans. You obliged, your body already wet enough for him to enter. You lined up, and without a second to waste, he slowly moved into you, causing you to toss your head back at the feeling. His eyes rolled back; a whine left his pretty pink lips, his chest heaved in pleasure.

His head dipped to suck your nipple, tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of your breast. You huffed, trying so hard to breathe. He let out moans that did something dangerous to your body, to your mind. You moaned along with him as his hips snapped.

“Oh, god,” he whimpered, his tone light, airy. Water dripped onto the soft skin of his chest from his hair. “You feel so good.”

You smiled, tearing your hands up his back as the piano cried along with you. The keys clicked, moaning from the weight above them. The music filled the room, tangled within your breaths, your sweat. You gripped the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his wet, dripping hair, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter by the minute.

Your walls caved into him, his cock pulsing inside you. He looked into your eyes for a long moment as he moved, his black hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth open in gratification. He kissed you, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, tugging on it. He liked to bite.

You felt euphoria reach you before you knew it, and you cried out, gripping his hair, pulling it as he fucked you. His face pained, his teeth barred, his eyes shut tight. Just his expression—his appearance—could've made you come on the spot.

You felt tingles in your fingers, and your toes, and saw stars in your vision. Black spots fluttered, your heart rate probably much higher than it should be. You didn't care if you died right here, right now. It didn't matter. Nope. This was bliss. So much better than that damn vibrator.

You felt like you were on fire—no, more like a falling, burning star crashing to earth. Your stomach ached at his pressure, your hips aching, your head pounding. You came onto him with haste as your vision blurred, tearing into his shoulder blades, leaving little marks on his skin. At your actions, you witnessed the look of utter satisfaction on the pretty boy’s face, his breaths quickening, shallowing. He let out a whine, just as musical as the keys underneath you.

Before he could come, he pulled out, cumming all over your breasts, your stomach. You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

He stared at you, eyes low, lips swollen and red. So fuckable, so delicious.

He looked at how he painted you, smirking a bit to himself. He was so full of life, full of emotion. “Let me go grab that towel,” he breathed, his voice crackling a bit. You watched in enjoyment when he walked away from you, watching his ass, his legs, the tattoos move with him.

He returned with the towel, wiping you gently as if he hadn't just made you nearly black out. You gazed at him, not sure what you were feeling, how you were feeling. You could do it all night with him, with this guy who was a stranger only a couple of days before. It wasn't too often that you acted on your desires, but there was no possible way you were supposed to avoid this, avoid him.

When he was done, when you were clean, he set the towel down on the floor, but his eyes didn't leave you.

“What?” you hummed.

“Just,” he breathed, smiling. “That was really good.”

“I hope so,” you chuckled the feeling of the room lightening, almost in a playful way. “I hope this wasn't your goal all along—you really freaked me out when I hit you.”

He looked down as you jumped off the piano. “Uh, yeah. I bet I did.”

You moved to him, gently reaching to hold his cheeks for him to look at you. “I got you now, huh? No more running in front of cars, unless it's mine. I’ll be prepared next time.”

His eyes widened as if he was shocked by your words. That you knew he did it on purpose. He didn't deny it. He just leaned into your touch, eyes closing tight in comfort.

“Like I said,” you started, giving his lips a little peck. “I’ll look after you, if you’ll allow it.”

He took in a deep breath, opening his eyes, meeting your sincere gaze. His lips curved up. “I’ll look after you, too.”

You smiled along with him. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, embracing him, feeling even more intimate than sex. He let out a shaky breath, as if finally realizing he wasn't alone, didn't have to be. That he deserved a caring touch, a longing touch, a needy touch. That he could actually have something to himself.

You didn't know what you were to each other, and it really didn't matter. There was no need to label it so specifically. You could be his rock, his personal nurse, the person to stitch him up when he gets hurt. The one he could confide in, have sex with, whatever he needed. Whatever you needed.

So when he kissed the top of your head while you hugged him, you tightened your arms just a little, holding onto him as long as he’ll let you.

You’ll look after each other.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong fic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hospital au #enemies to lovers

1K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 8 months

Note

Dragon! Dan Heng got me drooling and growling like a damn mutt.

Could I request him getting in heat and having slow yet sensual sex with his virgin! girlfriend?

The heat thing is driving me crazy for real.

Pairing: Dan Heng x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss, heat/rut, mating bites, creampie, knotting, breeding kink, mating press, growling

Word count: 1k

A/N: Why do all of my favorites end up being dragons? I pick them out as my faves and then suddenly they're dragons!

"You can still back out you know. I'm not that far gone yet." By the looks of him he was close to that point. Dan Heng, the normally calm and composed archivist of Astral Express was now a panting, growling mess on top of you. His rut had been getting to him for the past few days, he'd been more snappy, more aggressive, more lustful in his touches. Still he offered you an out, rather opting to spend his rut by himself then hurt you.

This wasn't his first rut, far from it, but it had been such a long time since he spent if with someone else. He had resigned himself to a life of loneliness, accepted it and all the challenges that came with it. And then you happened to shatter all those lonely days for him. You wanted him, the real him, and everything that it meant.

You pulled your legs up to your chest and spread yourself open for him. His mouth drooled at the sight of you in such a submissive position, "I told you before, I can handle you Dan Heng. I love you, so please don't worry about it."

"B-But..." He raised himself up on his knees and rubbed his hard cock over your pussy, all but losing his mind, "You're a virgin, what if I'm too much for you?" This wasn't so much in terms of size but he knew how intense he could get in his ruts. "If I were to harm you in any way I..."

"Dan Heng, do you love me?"

"What?" His eyes snapped open and he cupped your cheeks, "Of course I do!"

"Then I trust you not to hurt me." You could see how his tail moved from side to side at your statement, even his horns emanated a tiny bit of a blue glow.

He almost looked more nervous then you were. He'd always said he wanted you to feel good, now was the ultimate test of that. As much as he wanted to come he was determined to get you there first. This would be a test of his own endurance. With his hands he cupped your ass and pushed it a lit into the air. He positioned himself so that he was almost in a crouching position on top of you, with your legs pressing against your shoulders. "It will hurt less like this. Also allow me to go in deeper. Do you want to feel all of me?"

As soo as he saw the smile on your face he knew he could start to push in. Just a little bit at first, which allowed you to get used to the stretch his cock gave you. You took a deep breath, your heart hammered inside your chest, calmed only by the soft, gentle way Dan Heng gazed upon you. "A little more."

And a little more he gave you, slowly working the rest of his length inside you. There was a tiny bit of resistance now, your pussy clenching around him, "Sorry. It's been a long time for me." You felt part of his cock swell up, as he moved in and out, growing more frustrated that he couldn't fit it in. "My instincts tell me to knot you."

You chuckled, "And that means...?" You had an educated guess, but you wanted him to say it.

Dan Heng grew all the more flustered, "It would keep my seed inside you. But I also wouldn't be able to move as much for a period of time, and it might be a little painful for you. Humans don't have anatomy like my kind so if you're not comfortable with-"

"Knot me." There was such determination in your voice but your pussy seemed to protest at his cock trying to push in deeper, "Fuck, so big... if you push that in... but I want to feel it. I want all of you, please Dan Heng."

"Alright. Alright, but first..." He started thrusting faster, the curve of his cock scraping against your inner walls, making your toes curl and your breath hitch, "I should make you come. The wetness will help." You didn't know if that was true or if he wanted to show off by lasting longer then you even in his state but you weren't gonna question something that felt so damn good. "I'm sorry if I seem out of sorts. It feels so good to have you tighten around me like this. I hope to feel this every time I got into a rut."

"Why just when you're in a rut? I would be happy to have your cock in me whenever you want." Dan Heng growled at your proposal, his hips and yours making smacking noises so loud and frequent you could hardly focus on anything else. You began to feel the heat traveling down your spine, gathering between your legs, your almost painful release making your legs clench around his hips, "Keep it up, please don't stop yet."

Stopping was the last thing he was about to do now, "So beautiful when you come. Where have you been all my life?" There was both sadness and joy in that question, "I don't want to know a life without you any more. Let me make you mine soon." You could see how his jaw ached from him clenching his teeth. "If only I could make you pregnant, give you the family you deserve, a child or two."

"Yes, yes, please." It didn't matter if he could or not, you wanted it right now. You mind started to wonder to the future you could have together.

"Knotting. Hold still for me." You felt his cock pulsing, not just his cock but his knot, as it popped inside of you, locking the warm torrent of his seed in your womb. "Yes, take it all, all of me, be my good little mate."

"Your mate." You repeated, your legs finally relaxing from his hips, "Dan..." Hardly able to form words you fisted your hands into his long hair and drew him closer for a kiss. A little awkward with you being practically folded in half by him but since neither of you were going anywhere for at least an hour you'd take what you can get.

2K notes · View notes

letorip · 14 days

Text

i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

374 notes · View notes

bouncybongfairy · 2 months

Note

Hello! Could I request some dark smut with Lip? I can also be more specific if you'd like! No worries if you don't want to write it! Also I just found your blog and love your writing! 💕

Fucked Back Into Reality

Lip Gallagher x Fem Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Lip, hadn't talked to you in a couple of days. After having several conversations about this reoccuring problem, you decied to give him the cold shoulder. He reminds you why doing this is a riskey game.

Word Count: 2.0k+

TW: Rough Smut, Brat Kink, Masocism.

Ref Account: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It’s a bitterly cold day in Chicago’s south side. The type of cold where everyone at school is more concerned about staying warm than fashion. You were walking to school, both your parents left for work before you woke up. The school was too close to home for bus services so walking was really the only option. After trying to get in touch with Lip for the past two days, you were now on strike from being nice to him. You weren’t ignorant, Lip had a lot going on at home which meant his undivided attention was rare. Sometimes you wished he would just shoot you a text like: hey super busy day, love you / shits been crazy, talk to you when i can. Having this conversation in the past, you weren’t going to bother having it again. It surprised you to see Lip sitting on the front steps of the school; early which he never was. You started walking up the steps, he stood up and flicked his cigarette bud into the snow.

“Hey,” he said, you just looked at him and kept walking to your locker.

“Oh come one, you’re ignoring me?” he asked, leaning up against the mental lockers as you emptied your things into the locker.

“Seems familiar doesn’t it,” you say, referencing him not reaching out for the past couple days.

“Yeah but mine was accidental not bratty,” he chuckled. Maybe it was because you haven't eaten or smoked that morning but that comment enraged you. Slamming your locker and walking toward first period, leaving him in the hall.

Just your luck to have chemistry as the first class of the day. The teacher took 20 minutes to calm the class down. Kids play fighting with each other or flirting in the back of the room. Groups of students in their cliques, not paying any mind to the instructions given. You felt bad for the teacher, I'm sure she thought an education career would help so many teens. Only to be placed in one of the most poorly funded schools in the state. You didn’t feel too bad though, it only meant less work for you. Lip liked the fact that you cared about your grades, that you had a plan after highschool. As stupid as Lip was acting, you also liked how smart he was. You complained about it alot but you liked how he didn’t fall for your little tricks and games. He doesn’t chase you, or let you push him over. Most guys were just so emotionally unintelligent, not to mention Lip was more mature when it came to sex. The last couple guys you were with didn’t even talk while you fucked. Didn’t know what foreplay was or understand a woman's body. Lip had a really good understanding of when to be gentle or rough. When he would whisper things in your ear it always felt so natural and smooth. There were times when your stomach would randomly flip when thinking about the nasty things he’d told or done to you. Maybe part of the reason you had some animosity towards Lip was because you had been sexually frustrated. For the past couple weeks you felt like you were practically throwing yourself at him and he wasn’t in the mood. Of course you respected that, you just missed him was all; maybe a specific part of him. At lunch he came up to you from behind and hugged you. Still feeling quite stubborn, you allowed it but acted like you didn’t care.

“You still mad?” he whispers into your ear which makes your skin break out with goosebumps. He slides his hands down from your waist to your hips.

“I know we haven’t talked but I’m here now, let’s ditch for the rest of the day,” he said, pressing his lips against your neck. As much as you wanted to give in and agree, you still wanted to make a point. Pushing his hands away, you grab your backpack and walk away without acknowledging him. If he wanted to brand you as a brat then you’d give him his money's worth.

It was the last period, and everyone was waiting for the bell to ring. Some kids just left when they were ready and the teacher didn’t care. He just sat there, staring with cold dead eyes at his computer. Daren was consistently trying his best to spark conversation with you, all he talked about was how he ran track but he was trying his best. The heaters were blasting inside the school because it was snowing. The classroom windows were wet with condensation which made you feel sticky. Becoming overstimulated you decide to leave early, excusing yourself and walking out. Daren followed you into the hallway,

“Hey I was wondering if you wanted to stay after school and watch me practice? Maybe I can take you out after, or something?” he asks.

“Oh sorry I can't. I actually have a ton of homework so, maybe next time?” you say walking away, happy that you’re avoiding the rush of people flooding out the front gates.

Normally Lip would walk you home but you didn’t see him. Your willpower that was fueling your grudge was weakening. Pulling your phone out of your pocket and seeing if he texted you; he didn’t. Looking back you were feeling silly about your actions because look where they led you. It was really cold, snow sticking to your hair and eyelashes. Once you finally got home, Lip was waiting on the porch which took you by surprise. You went to greet him, this is when you noticed he looked angry. He didn’t even say anything to you, even after opening the door and letting the both of you in.

“How’s Daren?” he asks, once you both get to your bedroom.

“What?” you asked confused.

“Well you talked to him all last period and even after you left,” he said, sitting on your bed and lighting a cig.

“Okay first of all, I only talk to him for like two seconds. He asked me to watch him practice and I said no,” you defend yourself.

“That’s two seconds more than you talked to me today,” he remarked.

“Lip that’s not even fair,” you say, which made him smirk and shake his head as he took a drag.

“Do you even hear yourself? ‘tHat’s nOt fAiR’ whining like a baby who didn’t get their way. Why were you so offended that I called you a brat even though you’re acting just like one,” he said.

“What are you trying to scare me?” you ask while laughing.

“Trying?” he asked rhetorically.

You rolled your eyes and started to change into comfortable clothes. While you were only in your bra and underwear, Lip came behind you and ripped the lace material of the panties. You gasp and go to turn around but he presses you against the closet door. Intertwining his hand into your hair, gripping it so tight strands of hair were being pulled out. His dick was extremely hard and feeling it pressed against your ass immediately excited you. Moving your head slightly so he can start kissing and biting your neck. His breathing was hard and with his chest pressed against your back, you could feel his heartbeat. As he marked your neck, whimpers and moans were escaping your mouth.

“Since you were feeling so brave today let’s hope you keep that energy,” he growled into your ear.

“You gonna try and teach me a lesson?” you asked with a patronizing tone.

He chuckled and led you to the bed by your hair. Your heart was racing, your sexlife was by no means bland however, this was the first time he was this rough. It felt like the two of you were breaking the rules or something. Like discovering new and daunting territories. He reached his hand down and started feeling you through the hole in your panties he made. He let out a moan once he felt how wet you were.

“You are such a fucking slut, good to know being put in your place is all it takes for you to soak your panties,” he said, letting go of your hair.

He sat up onto his knees, instead of fully stripping his clothes, he just pulled his dick out of his zipper. Rubbing the tip against your pussy. Your chest was pressed against the mattress but your ass was pressed against his shaft. You start to rock your hips back and forth against him but he starts spanking his hands against your ass. The pain was so bad it burned, you thought he’d stop after a couple times but he kept going. Wanting to show you were handling the smacks, you try your best to take them without complaint. He was unrelenting and you finally begin to squirm away, which seemed to humor him,

“The more you fight and squirm, the more I wanna fuck you,” he said, running his nails down your now bright red ass.

“Fuck just do it already then,” you whine, in response he spits at your face.

“Cum slut’s don’t speak unless spoken to,” he said, pushing himself into your twitching and leaking pussy.

The feeling was enough to make your eyes roll back. After weeks of Lip blue-balling you, the sensation of being filled by him was pure bliss. He was going at a painfully slow rate, pulling himself fully in and out of you after every thrust. As pleasurable as it was, you’d do anything to get him to speed up. Unable to rock your own hips, you kick your feet a little in protest. This made him laugh and slow down even further. He grabbed your wrists and pressed them against your lower back, taking full control of your body. You were dripping down both thighs and tears pooled in your eyes. You were at your limit with his teasing, tightly clenching around him. He pulled out and flipped you onto your back, feeling too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Tears had stained your cheeks and your hair was in complete disarray from being yanked and pulled. He crawled on top of you and started pushing his tip in and out. You were bucking your hips up, tears coming back as he teased relentlessly.

“You’re sensitive here? Perfect spot to abuse huh?” he asked sarcastically, using one hand to smack his cock against your pussy.

In your own little world, trying to cum with what little friction he was giving you. He finally stops and instead wraps his hands around your neck. Then starts pounding into you, slowly tightening his grip over time. You were feeling dizzy and foggy, letting out a moan every time his length fully pressed into you. He was grunting and groaning, a couple beads of sweat dropping onto the bed from how much he was exerting himself. The closer you got to your orgasm the tighter his grip on your throat became. Your face was bright red and a wheezing sound came out of your mouth with every inhale. He seemed to be hummored by this and started to mock you.

“Can’t breathe? Good,” he chuckled.

The mixture of degradation and the fast paced abuse on your cunt was enough to send you over the edge. Shockwaves of pure pleasure began to ripple throughout your body. Legs trembling and eyes rolling back. He was chasing his own climax, seeing and feeling you cum around his cock was enough for him. Rutting into you with no regard for you, as if you were nothing but a toy for him. Seeing how he turned you into such a slutty mess made him feel feral. It wasn’t until he was fully finished that he removed his hands from your neck. After a small coughing fit, you began to come too. Lip was already up, using his shirt to clean you up. Pulling your hair out of your face and into a messy bun. You were half dead, completely exhausted and worn down. He laid down next to you, rubbing your back and whispering affirmations into your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to be as close to him as you could.

“I’m glad I could fuck the attitude out of you,” he said, as you fell asleep.

#lip gallagher x fem reader #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher fanfiction #smut lip gallagher #one shot #smut fanfiction #fanfiction requests #rough smut #brat taming #shameless fanfic #shameless smut

494 notes · View notes

mydearzero · 8 months

Text

Lisztomania | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Years after joining the BAU, you thought you'd gotten past your little celebrity-like infatuation with Spencer, the whole reason you applied for the BAU. A case involving the murder of several groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band is bound to prove you wrong.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

4.7K words

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that Spencer would be the one to deliver the profile to the public. He looked a lot more stoic on TV than in real life. You never failed to be amazed by how he could still surprise you over the years. He looked confident, and it was a good look on him.

"-The man we're looking for is between the ages of 25 and 40. He is of an average build. He's likely socially inept and doesn't mingle well with his peers. Please be on the lookout for anybody who fits this description and contact the FBI through the local Police Department. Thank you."

"Someone's gawking." Emily's words startled you out of your Spencer-induced trance. You crossed your arms and grumbled.

"No, I wasn't..." You bit the inside of your cheek as Emily pat your shoulder and scoffed a laugh.

"Sure, you weren't. I gotta give it to you. TV does Boy Wonder well." Emily said as she watched the head of the local Police Department take over the press conference as Spencer left the screen.

"I guess I'm just amazed at how different he looks while doing press. Compared to how he usually carries himself, I mean." You shrugged. Emily turned to look at you, no longer interested in the TV screen.

"Guess that's the profiler in all of us. You can't help but compare. But you're right. Reid does have a certain je ne sais quoi about him, I suppose."

_________

That was several months ago. It wasn't until you saw Spencer in front of a classroom that a familiar, uneasy feeling returned to your stomach. Emily was right. He did 'have a certain je ne sais quoi about him'. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"-Which is why it's crucial we always discuss the details of the COD with the coroner's office. COD being the Cause of Death, of course." Spencer spoke with an air of juvenile enthusiasm. You were glad he still had that part in him, despite everything that happened previous to his teaching.

He finished the class and was about to walk over to where you were leaning against the wall, waiting for him to finish. But when he was nearly done packing his satchel, a small group of college girls formed around his desk. The soft smile he'd directed at you was quickly cut short.

You stared in amazement at the girls' shameless flirting. Spencer had turned this group of brilliant and educated girls into giddy schoolgirls, all by just being himself. They all wanted a piece of him, and you started to have peace with the fact that you didn't blame them. You were in the same boat.

_________

The final straw was during a case concerning a string of murders involving groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band.

"I mean, I get the urge to throw your panties on stage at an attractive man. I do. Even I would've taken the bait with Nick Carter, given the chance. But to follow a random stranger down a dark alley in the hopes of meeting your idol? That seems a bit far-fetched. Girls this age are smarter than that, especially with the media frenzy." JJ flipped through the details described in the case file.

"There's been several cases of fangirls going to great lengths to get what they want from their idol. The earliest case would probably be with Hungarian composer Franz Liszt in 1841.

The term 'Lisztomania' came about in 1844, describing an intense level of hysteria demonstrated by fans, a bit like the treatment of celebrity musicians today – but in a time not known for such musical excitement.

A more recent example would be Beatlemania, or even the so-called 'Bieber Fever' or 'One Direction Infection'. There have been several studies that explain this behaviour, but I won't get into that." Spencer trailed off.

"I know someone else who had a case of that. But I think that was just called a hard-on." JJ joked, jabbing at Spencer's short-lived fling with Lila Archer over ten years ago. Spencer grumbled something along the lines of "Can we please let that go," but it fell on deaf ears.

"It's still strange they would follow someone down the alley unless the person they're following has been established in the girls' minds as someone with authority, like a crew member connected to the band," Rossi mentioned.

"Garcia, look into all the current members of the band's crew along with the people working at the venues. We're going to need you at the scene, too. There's a lot of social media involved. Thank you. Wheels up in 30." Hotch stood up, signalling the meeting was finished.

You walked with Emily back to the bullpen, Spencer following close behind.

"You know, I get it. There's something attractive about a man with a platform, even if you put him on that pedestal yourself, to begin with." Emily said as you leaned against her desk.

"Yeah, for sure. It doesn't have to be a pop star or actor. A celebrity, even. Could be anybody under the right circumstances." You agreed. You could see the appeal in having an unrelenting devotion to someone like that.

You put Spencer on a pedestal like that, in a way. You watched as he gathered his things into his go-bag. You knew he was a flawed person, like anybody. Yet, in your eyes, all his problems could be explained or ignored. You didn't notice the curious glance Emily sent your way.

While on the jet, you contemplated the case. Would you have fallen for the ruse? Maybe if you had been a bit younger? You'd had your own little celebrity obsessions. You wouldn't have ruled it out if free tickets and a meet & greet were in the picture.

It was a quick but convoluted catch once the profile was made. Thank you, Penelope. The UnSub was most likely one of the band's crew members who used to date the bassist. They'd broken up due to an increasing number of groupies getting in the way of their relationship. Go figure she'd go and murder them.

The catch happened right in time with the start of the show, the bustling crowd missing all of the mayhem that had gone down backstage due to the support act. How the gigs hadn't been cancelled yet was beyond you.

"You can stay and watch the show from the VIP area if you want. It's the least we can do, really. Though, maybe ditch the FBI gear." The lead singer had a charming smile. You could see how the crowd waiting for him could be captivated by his energy.

After Hotch checked with the hotel and pilot, the team decided to take the band up on their invitation. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, you drove back to the venue in groups.

You were escorted to a barricaded area near the front of the stage. The energy of the crowd was exhilarating. An electric tension hung in the air as the 30-minute change-over between the support was filled with soft music from a playlist.

JJ and Rossi came bearing gifts, both carrying several drinks to hand out to the team. You thanked them as you took one, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink. You deserved to relax and enjoy a night like this after the gruelling case.

You watched unabashedly at Spencer, red overhead lights casting down on his face. You'd like to see how he'd do on the stage, perhaps in an alternate universe, and with a different wardrobe. He was undoubtedly eclectic enough to pull off the whole rock star gig.

He felt your gaze and made eye contact, working his way past a wildly gesturing Emily as she told a story. He lightly grabbed your upper arm when he reached you.

"Hey." You saw his mouth move, but his words got lost under the chattering crowd. You smiled and leaned closer.

"Hi! Fancy seeing you here!" You shouted. Spencer winced as he laughed. You'd obviously overestimated the volume of the crowd. You mouthed a quick apology before taking another drink.

You nearly choked when Spencer leaned even closer, invading your personal bubble (that was already narrow), to talk directly in your ear.

"Did you know that typical movement behaviour at large events like these increases the risk of spreading infectious diseases?" You bit your lip as you stopped yourself from laughing. Leave it up to Spencer to break the tension like that.

"It makes sense, I guess. Lots of people, lots of bodily fluids. Kinda gross, now that I think about it," you replied.

Just as he was about to speak again, the lights dimmed, and screams filled the stadium. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, afterwards turning to look at the show. He stood behind you for the majority of the show, and while you would've loved to admire him in the gorgeous lighting a little longer, you couldn't have asked for a better person to have rubbed up against you for an hour and a half.

After the show, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest ahead of their early flight the following day. The rest headed out to a bar just around the corner of the venue. You walked quickly, the cold of the outside being a jarring change from the heat at the concert.

You were a few drinks in when Penelope brought up a subject you'd somehow managed to avoid all these years.

"If I hadn't joined the FBI, I would've liked to be some sort of celebrity," She mentioned, taking another sip through her straw.

"Considering the type of psychos we encounter on a daily basis, I'd rather be less known, not more." Emily shuddered. You were quick to agree. Although fame was attractive on some level, you wouldn't want to risk situations like those you'd witnessed these last few days in exchange.

"What made you want to become an agent in the first place?" Penelope turned to you before continuing. "I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was jail or the FBI, and I'm not jail material. I mean, look at me!" She gestured wildly to herself.

You chuckled and decided to pick an opt-out answer. "I just saw it as the right thing to do, you know? Make the world a better place, even if it's only little by little." You shrugged.

Spencer squinted as he ran his eyes over your face. "Bullshit." He determined. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his callout.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned genuinely. Sure, you hadn't been entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie.

"You're lying, I can tell. You do that thing with your face. Besides, that's the most basic answer ever. Surely a person with as much integrity as you do would have a better reason than a moral superiority complex." Spencer stated matter-of-factly. You gaped at his accusation.

"He's right, though. You have no connection to the Bureau. Reid is a wunderkind, Garcia is basically an ex-con, and I'm a child of nepotism. What made you apply? And for the BAU of all places?" Emily wondered out loud.

You recoiled as you realised there was no getting out of this. If you were going to dance around the subject, Penelope would get too curious, anyways. She'd have your application and its details pulled up in no time. That, along with cross-referencing the BAU with your college, it wouldn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened.

"I actually followed a lecture on sexual sadism and the Mill Creek Killer back in college that made me wonder if I'd be cut out for it." You admitted, omitting some key details.

The one secret you'd sworn to take to your grave was that Spencer was the sole reason you were with the FBI in the first place, having followed one of his guest lectures a few years back.

He hadn't even left the room before you'd turned in your online application to the Academy.

"Why not mention that in the first place? God, no need to be so secretive about it." Penelope whined. You didn't answer as you tentatively sipped your drink, feeling busted for no reason.

You glanced up to look at an overly smug and amused Spencer. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised you were most definitely caught.

"You know, when Hotch first introduced us to you, I thought I recognised you from somewhere. But the memory I have of that lecture is actually overshadowed by this kid who was also there, Nathan Harris. He ended up killing some prostitutes. But now that you mention it, you did go to Georgetown, didn't you?" Spencer knew he was right. He just wanted to see how you were going to talk yourself out of this one.

"Oh, you gave that lecture? I never realised..." It was a pathetic lie, and there was no hiding it. Emily snorted out loud. She'd clocked your little 'thing' for Spencer long ago, you knew that much.

"Aww, you looked up to Spencer? That's so cute!" Penelope gushed. That sure was one way to put it. You made a face that must've said as much.

"What, you didn't look up to me? I'm offended. Here I thought I was your favourite professor." Spencer joked. He excused himself as he walked to the bathroom. Great timing, as it gave you time to rid your cheeks of the flush you were sporting.

"Be honest with me. And don't bother lying because we've all seen the heart eyes you throw at Pretty Boy. Were you genuinely interested in joining because of the subject matter? Or..." Emily encouraged you to answer.

You sighed as you brought a hand to your face. "Honestly? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be him or be with him. But at least I signed up for the class out of genuine interest! There were plenty of girls there that were there purely for the hour-long eye candy!" You defended yourself.

"And you applied for the Academy after the lecture? At least it must've been interesting." Penelope wondered out loud.

"Actually..." You winced. "He'd hardly even been done with his introduction before I'd filled in the online application. But I was very single, okay? And he'd already built up this celebrity status on campus." It felt nice to admit to it after years of harbouring it.

"Oh! You naughty little fangirl!" Penelope exclaimed.

"I'm not a fangirl! It's been years!" You groaned. You took it back. It didn't feel nice. You should've kept it to yourself.

"Who are you a fangirl of?" Spencer asked, putting a new glass in front of Emily and sitting back down by your side.

"You! She's a total groupie." Penelope betrayed you. You shot her a nasty look, but it went ignored by her drunken, self-satisfied glee.

"Is that so?" Spencer turned to you with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh yeah, total Reidiac. You should give her an autograph." Emily winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head at their antics.

The conversation moved on, but you felt the dynamic between Spencer and you had changed, even when unspoken. When Penelope and Emily were caught up discussing cats, Spencer leaned against your side, whispering in your ear once more. Unlike last time, he didn't break the tension, even when telling another fact.

"Garcia called you my groupie earlier. Do you know the textbook definition of the term 'groupie'?" His voice was huskier than usual, coated with the alcohol and late hour. You shook your head timidly, urging him to continue.

"A groupie is typically explained as a young woman who regularly follows a celebrity, especially in the hope of having a sexual relationship with them." His lip brushed against your ear as he whispered the words. A cold chill went down your spine at his insinuation.

"You're no celebrity, Spence." You answered apprehensively. He didn't move, still leaning into your side, out of sight. You couldn't gauge his expression.

"Maybe not in the classic sense of the word. But I have a Wikipedia page. Surely, that amounts to some celebrity status." He joked. You closed your eyes, tension slowly disappearing after the vibe of the conversation changed back to casual banter.

Was he insinuating what you thought he was?

You got your answer as soon as the four of you headed to the hotel. You bid your goodbyes to Emily and Penelope before turning to put the keycard in the door to your room. You heard a couple of doors close, and just when you turned the handle, there was a hand on your shoulder, pushing you inside and closing the door. You whipped around, only to be faced with Spencer.

"Spenc-"

"You deflected earlier." He interrupted.

"Deflected what?" Your heart was racing. Whether from the shock of his sudden intrusion or the proximity, you weren't sure.

"The definition of a groupie. And how Garcia is right, you totally are one."

You gaped at the insinuation.

"Don't look shocked now! You are totally one of those girls who audit my class." He grinned.

"You wish! I'll have you know you were scrawny at best when you gave that one lecture I attended." You huffed, crossing your arms.

"Were scrawny? Past tense?" Spencer egged you on.

"Shut up. You know you've built up some muscle since then. Hell, maybe you even grew a couple of inches." You rolled your eyes.

Spencer decided to ignore the comment and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He finally pulled something out, looking way too smug for his own good. "I brought a Sharpie. You know, for your autograph."

Fine. If he wasn't going to stop this ridiculous teasing, you were going to cross the 'groupie' line.

"Oh my god! I like, totally want your autograph, Spency!" You started, looking him dead in the eyes as your hands made their way to the hem of your shirt.

"Will you sign my tits?" You challenged, lifting your top far enough to expose your bra to its fullest extent.

Spencer obviously hadn't expected that, struggling to come up with a quick-witted response. You shrugged as you took the shirt off.

"I see. You require a larger surface area. I get it. Big ego, bigger signature." Spencer finally broke when you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.

"Hey, hey. Stop. I can sign them like this just fine, sweetheart." You knew he was simply going along with the rockstar act, but the nickname sent blood rushing to your cheeks either way.

"Okay, hot shot." You smirked, pushing your chest out. He hadn't expected you to actually let him sign your chest. He scrambled to take the cap off. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Stand still. You want it to come out perfect, don't you?"

You held your breath when he brought the Sharpie up to your breasts. You looked at his face as he appeared laser-focused on giving you the best autograph of your life. Why was it that such a stupid joke felt like the most sensual experience of your life?

The tip of the Sharpie tickled as it danced across your chest. He finished the signature with a dot on the I in Reid.

"There, perfection." He whispered, but his eyes were no longer glued to your scantily clad upper body. You searched his face for hesitation but only found his determined gaze settled on your parted lips.

He made eye contact as if asking permission. You'd barely nodded before his hands cupped your face, and lips were on yours, sucking all the air out of your lungs. His body pressed up against your own, frantically shedding the layers keeping you separated. You kept kissing him while desperately reaching for his belt.

You hadn't noticed you'd slowly made your way to the bed in the back of the hotel room until Spencer pulled away to remove his tie. You let yourself fall onto the sheets, ridding yourself of your bottoms. They got stuck at your ankles as you forgot your shoes.

"I got it." Spencer's voice was unrecognisably hoarse. He kicked off his own shoes and made his way over to the bed in only his boxers. He tugged at your shoes after undoing the laces and discarded them somewhere in the room.

You'd never seen a sight quite like Spencer leaning over you as he rested one knee on the bed. He put his hand beside your face and you met his eyes. His head blocked the dim yellow ceiling light, lighting him perfectly from behind. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look, even in these stereotypically sinful circumstances.

"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked. Always considerate. What a gentleman.

"I've been sure ever since that stupid lecture, dork." You joked. Spencer smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss under your ear. His breath was hot on your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, down to his crudely placed signature.

You leaned on your elbows as Spencer reached behind your back to finally unclasp your bra. You let your back meet with the sheets again as he pulled the straps down your arms. You heard him take a deep breath as he took in the sight before him.

You pulled him down for another kiss, unsatiable now that you'd gotten a taste. His hands reached for your chest and experimentally pinched a nipple. You inhaled sharply through your nose. The combined sensation of his mouth and large hands on your body, as his hips sought more and more friction, was delectable.

His hands slowly reached further down, toying with the edge of your underwear.

"Don't tease." You whined, already too riled up.

"Patience is a virtue," Spencer murmured against the skin of your jaw, hooking his finger under the elastic band.

"Patience, my ass, Reid. I need you." It came out more desperate than you intended, but it seemed to do the trick. He yanked the underwear down your legs, followed by his own.

"Condom?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Don't care. I'm clean, and God knows you are. Wanna feel you." You answered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spencer laughed, taking his cock in his hand and running it through your folds.

"Have you met yourself? You won't even shake hands, Doct-oh, oh Jesus Christ." Spencer interrupted your banter by sliding inside in one go. You closed your eyes as you pulled him close, begging him to kiss you.

He slowly started moving as you regained your ragged breath. The low grunts falling from his lips against yours were magical, but you wanted more. Your fingers made their way up to his hair, tentatively tugging at the roots. Your grip tightened at a particularly harsh thrust, and Spencer's response was everything you were searching for.

"Holy fuck, oh my God- Uh-" His grunts slowly tuned whinier as you kept your grip on his hair. He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts.

"Look at me, baby." He moaned in your ear. He leaned back, and your eyes fluttered open, though with difficulty. Your instinct was to squeeze them shut with pleasure. He looked ravenous, pupils blown wide, panting with the physical effort.

You lazily wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him even closer.

"Shit, Spencer," you moaned as the new angle reached a spot inside you you'd only ever dreamed of. Your eyes squeezed shut again, unable to keep them open. Spencer removed the hand rubbing your clit and moved it to your chin, placing a small kiss on your lips.

"Eyes on me, come on. I know you can do it." He encouraged. Something about his coercive tone let you know there was a side to Spencer you had yet to see. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of his eyebrows furrowed with effort.

The noises coming from Spencer sped up along with the desperate pace of his hips. The combination of his whines with yours and the sound of skin on skin was anything but serene. You felt yourself nearing the edge, clawing at his back in an attempt to ground yourself.

"Spencer! Fuck, oh my god," it was hardly distinguishable what you were saying, mumbles of pleasure stringing together into an unintelligible mess. His cock slid again and again and- you couldn't take it.

Your hands left his hair in favour of running your nails harshly over his back. Spencer was seemingly a glutton for pain, moaning at the sensation.

"I- Shit, I'm gonna cum. D'you want me to pull out?" Spencer's thrust faltered. You knew you had to answer fast. You tightened your grip on him with your legs.

"Please, Spencer. Please come inside me. Want to feel you cum." You begged.

"Fuck, okay. Okay. O-" His head dropped down to your shoulder as his unrelenting hips sped up one more time, bringing you both to your high. You felt his cock twitch as your walls tightened around him.

"Spencer!" You shouted as you came, feeling him spill inside you.

"So good for me. So gorgeous. Perfect." Spencer mumbled as he peppered you with kisses, hips slowing down as he came down from his high. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.

Spencer carefully pulled out, making sure not to spill anything and soil the sheets. He stepped off the bed and spread your legs, before leaning back down and licking a drop of cum threatening to spill.

"Shit, Spencer! Too sensitive!" You pushed his head away. He laughed before heading to the bathroom, returning with a dampened towel.

The nighttime routine that followed felt domestic. You peed, brushed your teeth, ignored the sight of his signature and hickies on your boobs, and headed to bed.

"Can I borrow your toothbrush?" Spencer asked from the bedroom. He hadn't asked to stay. But then again, you hadn't asked him to leave. You didn't want him to.

"You just licked your own cum from my vagina, and you ask if you can borrow my toothbrush? Be my guest, Reid." You scoffed, lying down under the sheets.

"Hey, people have their preferences, okay? Didn't want to overstep." Spencer said as he returned from the bathroom, lying down beside you.

Against your better judgement, Spencer stayed. You knew the entire team would be up and around, bright and early. But you didn't care. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He left early the following morning. You were sure he hadn't had nearly enough beauty sleep. He could nap on the plane, you shrugged. There were no regrets from either party over the loss of sleep.

You hadn't thought too much about your outfit before heading down to breakfast. An honest mistake one can make when staying up late and getting up early. You were exhausted, let alone hung over. You realized your mistake when the ever-stoic eyes of Aaron Hotchner immediately snapped down to the tank top you were wearing the second you stepped out of the elevator, the words 'Spencer Reid' still obscenely sprawled across your chest, accompanied by several suspicious bruises.

Your eyes went wide as you followed his gaze, quickly zipping up your hoodie. How could you possibly have forgotten that part? You met Hotch's eyes. Before you could try to babble yourself out of this one, he held up a hand to stop you. "I don't want to know."

You clenched your lips as you nodded. "Noted, bossman."

The small smile tugging at the corner of his lips didn't escape you, and neither did the exchange of money between him and Rossi not 5 minutes later.

2K notes · View notes

reareaotaku · 9 months

Note

so I had a though what if the Barbies and the Kens actually had private parts but actively avoided them (think, using etc)?

Like Barbies do have boobs and you can see that the Kens have nipples. Also dolls - as far as I remember - had panties, craved in, panties.

I believe in the movie they talk about how they don't have genitals. Though, let's say that they do have privates, what would happen? Also ignoring the second part

Pleasurable Sin [Headcanons]

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Masturbation/Jerking Off, Ken has a dick! 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

The Barbies are more sexually aware/have a sexual education

The only reason the Kens don't ALSO have a sexual education is because they don't take it seriously [Also, they're not really getting laid]

There are no diseases, STD & STIs, because there's nothing to give it to them if that makes sense?

They are humanized versions of their doll personas, meaning they have human bodies and need food, water, air, etc

The Kens are very sexual

Your Ken, Ryan, is always touching you and humping you, quite literally

The first time Ken jerked off he had no idea what he was doing

He grabbed the base/shaft and slowly moves up towards the tip. He slowly picks up the pace, which causes him to groan. He really liked the feeling and speeds up. He quickly speeds up when feeling his lower intestine tighten up and then cums all over his hand

He's out of breath and excited with this newfound pleasure

It makes him wonder if you also feel like this

He's completely clueless and thinks you also have a penis

"Well, don't you pull on it too?"

You look at him confused, before laughing at him. He blushes, embarrassed, feeling like a fool."

"We don't have the same genitalia, you know that right, Ken?"

"Of course I do... So what does it look like?"

Once he does figure out what jerking off and how good it is, he does it a lot

When you rub against him, it's like seeing stars

It feels better when you rub him than when he rubs himself

Man will do anything for you to touch him

He's very loud and cries during sex

He'll cover his mouth when your mouth is wrapped around him, because he doesn't want anyone to hear him

Suck him like a lolipop, it's like a treat for him

Barbie Dreamhouse Ken would care about your pleasure

Ken is so excited and sometimes forgets to please you

He moves so fast and energetically

Though, if you tell him, he'll be more cautious, because his biggest fear is you not loving him. So, when he does realize that he's been upsetting/displeasing you, he's scared

While he does enjoy the feeling of being inside you, if you show any discomfort, now that he has eagle eyes on you, he'll be quick to ask what's wrong

He's willing to do whatever you're up for

He's also really easy to turn on

If Boner Alerts existed, his would go off anytime you're near

You don't even have to do anything; You just talk a certain way/Lean into him just a little to far/ You look at him a certain way... Well, it all works and he gets excited

He gets really sad when you say no, but is willing to do it by himself. He'd rather you help him, but it's okay, he'll just use his imagination

Oh boy, does his imagination run wild

Good thing Porn doesn't exist in Barbie Land, because he'd be wanting to do it all with you

While he does love 'Love-making', he doesn't think about it constantly. Sometimes he loves the way you look in the sunlight. You look beautiful when you smile. Your laugh makes his heart beat and his skin gets those goosebumps. A shiver runs up his back when you look at him like he's the only man in the world

There's no one else like you. Yeah, the Barbies are pretty, but you are one of a kind and you're the only person who owns Ken's mind

#yandere ken x reader #ken #ryan ken #ryan gosling #yandere ken #ken x reader #ken barbie #yandere barbie ken #yandere barbie ken x reader #yandere barbie #yandere ryan ken x reader #the barbie movie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #barbie the movie

2K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: fwb!mingyu, pussydrunk!mingyu, horny!mingyu (he's just horny as shit guys), smut, f reader, penetrative sex, based off the picture above ofc, etc.

wc: 985

masterlist

you had known mingyu for a few months now. you'd originally met at some frat party that your friend vernon had invited you to. you attended with no specific purpose in mind. you thought maybe you'd mingle a bit, have some drinks with some friends, and then dip. however, your plans were promptly ruined by the six-foot tall boy with the pretty smile who kept eyeing you all night as he leaned against the wall, nursing a drink while making eyes at you.

that was the first night you ended up in mingyu's bed. at a first glance you imagined he'd be good at sex. you'd been right. somewhat. he was insane. not only did he have an insane libido, but he was insatiable for you. he managed to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. what surprised you most, however, was how he never ran out of orgasms to give you in return. you'd heard of guys with short refractory periods, but mingyu was an anomaly. that night, he had kept you up for hours, causing you to arrive late to next morning's lecture (not that you were complaining).

the second time you met mingyu was quickly after, as you'd bumped into him at a football game two days after. it was almost comical. the way in which you met eyes and knew exactly what the other was thinking. without needing to exchange any words, you ended up back at mingyu's dorm, with your legs thrown over his shoulders as he viciously fucked you into the bed, muttering words such as "you're all mine. pussy's all for me, isn't it baby?", or "pretty fuckin' thing with an even prettier pussy, fuck. n so fuckin' soft too," or your favorite, "shit. best pussy ive ever had. gunna keep it for myself. that okay, baby? gunna give it to me, arent you, pretty?"

the man not only knew how to fuck, but he knew how to make you swoon. you needed no convincing to keep ending up in mingyu's bed day after day. unfortunately for the both of you, you were nothing more than a measly college student; a slave to the deadlines your professors imposed on you. even if you wanted to spend every minute of every living moment in mingyu's bed, you had common sense. which meant you had to prioritize your education.

you and mingyu had fucked consistently for about a month. that is, until midterm season arrived. like any reasonable person, this was time for you to hibernate in your room and cram, all while ignoring any outside distractions. your family, friends, any medical emergencies, and even mingyu's dick would have to wait for this stressful time in your life to end.

you assumed that this wouldve been the case for mingyu too, knowing he was in some of the same courses as you. which is why his most recent message threw you off guard, making you laugh at the absurdity.

from: mingu 🤤:

i'm legit gonna kill myself if we dont fuck again

you'd only been depraving mingyu of sex for a little over a week. was he that insatiable? okay, you had to admit, that was a huge ego boost (and a bit of a turn on). you were now faced with two choices. be a responsible adult and put your education first, or get your hole fucked and stuffed by the big hunk who was threatening lethal action against himself if he didnt feel your warmth around him as soon as humanly possible.

you didnt have to be asked twice.

giggling to yourself, you picked up your phone and angled it upwards, pulling down your shirt enough to display your bare tits and captured a quick picture, typing him a quick message to rile him up a little more.

from you:

want this ? ;)

*picture attachment*

after hitting send, you sat back down for a bit, uselessly putting your phone down as you heard a chime in response almost immediately.

from mingu 🤤:

fuck you

i'll be there in ten

giddy, you readied yourself a bit for his arrival, knowing his dorm rooms were not too far away from yours.

only eight minutes later and you were answering the door to a very frustrated mingyu, barging into your room and immediately pushing you up against the door, taking advantage of your gasp to shove his tongue in your mouth.

"you think you're funny, dont you, baby?", he rasped, "gonna fuck the funny out of you."

he quickly undressed you and carried you over to your couch, taking his own clothes off in the process. he bent you over and put you on your hands and knees, slapping your ass once before entering you without warning.

"fuck," he breathed out in relief, "how could you keep this pretty pussy away from me for so long, baby? wanted me to chase after you? i'll fucking do it," he fucked you harder with every word he uttered.

"g-gyu."

"i'll fuckin' move in to your dorm if that means i can have this pretty fuckin' pussy wrapped around me every night, shit," his words were getting to you, causing you to wrap tighter around him.

"g-gunna give it to you every day, pretty. will you let me do that? huh? stuff this pretty pussy every day. so pretty n warm for me ..."

you both reached your completion soon after, spending yourselves out after one round for the first time since knowing each other.

"baby ... never fucking pull that shit again, i swear to god. next time you ghost me like that, i'm breaking down the door, do you understand?", his words were lighthearted in nature, but the concept of mingyu being so pussydrunk he needed to have you day after day excited you beyond belief.

"yes, sir," you purred, preparing yourself for an afternoon of zero studying.

n/a: not proofread <//3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #svt #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagine #mingyu oneshot #mingyu fanfic

2K notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 months

Text

The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)

Hellloooo!

It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!

prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h

word count: 8k

warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet

🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑

Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was a safe choice.

It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.

The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.

They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.

It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.

YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business

:readmore:

instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.

It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.

She relied on them for help with her student loans.

YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.

Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.

However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.

Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.

He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.

Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.

He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.

The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.

No spark.

No chemistry.

Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.

He was nice to her.

He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.

Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.

On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.

The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.

There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.

It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

Arthur was just Arthur.

He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.

Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.

When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.

But that was once in a blue moon.

They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.

That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.

YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.

YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.

Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.

YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.

He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.

He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.

When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.

But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.

He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.

It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.

YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.

However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.

The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.

Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.

YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.

She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.

She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.

Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.

Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.

YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.

Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.

After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.

And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.

Right?

Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.

Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.

He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.

Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.

Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.

Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.

Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.

YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.

The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.

It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.

YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.

It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.

The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.

It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.

YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.

Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.

His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.

“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.

“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.

“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.

He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”

Sweetie pie….

YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.

It did not work out.

They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.

YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.

They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.

Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.

He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.

It had been on his mind though.

“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?

“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.

“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”

The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.

He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.

That’s where The Body Factor came into play.

There were guidelines to a membership:

You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.

You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.

A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.

You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.

You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.

YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.

“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.

The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.

It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.

However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.

It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.

Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.

There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.

YN’s heart was in her throat.

Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?

Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?

Arthur may pass out.

However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.

They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.

There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.

This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.

“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.

Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.

The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.

YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.

There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”

Ah, that makes sense.

It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.

They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”

“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.

“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.

“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”

“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”

“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.

They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.

It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.

Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.

The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.

There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.

The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.

YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.

In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.

No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.

YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.

He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.

He was fucking beautiful.

YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.

However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.

She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.

YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.

She wasn’t here for new partners.

She was here to learn and explore with her own.

YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”

Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”

“Free play?”

“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”

YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.

“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.

“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”

“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.

Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.

This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.

Arthur still did not.

They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.

YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.

It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.

When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.

Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.

YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.

However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”

When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.

“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.

Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.

YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.

Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.

YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.

It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.

They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.

A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.

YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.

A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.

He’s truly going to injure her.

YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.

The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”

YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.

“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.

It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.

“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”

Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.

“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.

YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.

“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.

Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”

YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.

She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.

YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.

“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.

His eyes were green.

Close to the accent color of the club.

“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.

Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.

YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”

It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.

“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“

“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”

YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.

“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“

Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.

YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.

YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”

It feels ruined and it never even started.

All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.

After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.

“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”

Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.

It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.

“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”

YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”

Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”

“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”

“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.

“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”

YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”

Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.

“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”

YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.

“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”

Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.

Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.

Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.

YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.

It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.

She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.

YN only had excited nerves going into the night.

Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.

Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.

Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.

YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.

YN: You don’t scare me. ;)

She was already being bratty with him.

It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.

Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.

YN : I’m shaking.

YN: Terrified.

Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.

YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.

It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.

YN: You’re probably not much better.

Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.

YN: Fuck you.

Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.

Harry Styles: For now…

It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.

Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.

Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.

YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.

YN: Black dress with tights.

Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.

YN: What will you be wearing then?

Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?

She can’t even help herself

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Noted.

YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.

It’s not.

Not with the emotions it makes her feel.

She hasn’t felt them in so long.

It scares her.

“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.

“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”

“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.

It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.

YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.

She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.

Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.

YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.

However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.

“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.

Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”

“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.

This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.

“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.

“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.

“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.

The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.

YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.

Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”

“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.

“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.

There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.

Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.

The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.

The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.

High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.

The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.

YN was in love with space.

It was so much more than she was expecting.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.

“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”

“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”

“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”

YN swallows because would he allow that?

Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”

YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.

They’re silent as they wait for Harry.

She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.

Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.

Harry looked ethereal.

He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.

His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.

After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.

“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.

YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.

A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.

“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.

Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.

“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.

Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”

YN gives him her own confused look.

“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”

“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.

Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”

YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.

“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.

YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.

summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harrystyles #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harrystylesfanfic #fan fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #patreon

713 notes · View notes

skz317cb97 · 1 year

Note

Okay I read something like this for another fandom and it was actually soo good.

I was wondering if you'd write something with Bang Chan/Chris in mind if you're taking any fic requests :)

In a world where upon their first touch, soulmates (Bang Chan/Chris x female reader) are overcome with a sudden and overwhelming need to fuck each other

Please and thanks if you can

Office Space

Bang Chan × Female reader

Word count: 1.8K

Synopsis: You live in a world where one touch of your soulmate will ignite a pathological urge to consummate your bond. What happens when you bump into the cute guy from the office and it appears as though you've found your match?

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I hope this is to your liking! I had fun writing it! Such a great idea! Than you so much for sending it in! If you all like this one give it a reblog, like, comment, hit up my ask box, whatever! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, semi public sex in a locked office no one knows), unprotected sex (please use condoms), cream pie. I think that's it not anything too crazy but if I missed something please let me know and I'll add it asap!

The same thing happened to everyone. Once you turned twenty-one, if you came into physical contact with your soulmate your body had an overwhelming primal desire to claim each other physically. Fuck. It was a big talking point when you start going through sex ed in junior high. You heard the same thing you always did with anything else that had to do with sexual education. ‘It’s perfectly normal’ or ‘It happens to everyone’.

No matter how true that was, it didn’t make the topic any less uncomfortable to talk about for some people, you being one of those people. You avoided anything that had to do with soulmates but when you turned twenty-one you went to a psychic with some friends and the lady who read your fortune said that your soulmate’s name would be Chris and his last name had something to do with a gun or fireworks, an explosion maybe, she wasn’t sure and you weren’t buying any of it.

By the time you were twenty-five a few of your friends had already found their soulmates. You didn’t have time for that nonsense. Your career was your soulmate. You were the lead of your department’s team and it was no easy feat getting to that position. There were eight other teams all the leads for those departments were men.

Most but not all of them you had met in passing regularly. There was one that you had never even been introduced to but you heard people calling him Chan. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was gorgeous. Strong nose, kind eyes, pouty lips, shoulders for days, and well, he definitely had a good tailor because his ass... You had to stop thinking like that, you didn’t know the man. You didn’t know his last name, you had never even heard his voice.

Well, that was about to change really soon. Today when you got to work the head of your branch was pulling all team leads in for a meeting so you and the eight other men, including Chan, had to meet in meeting room three immediately after lunch. Around one thirty all nine of you promptly met your boss.

There were eight other people there and you were trying not to be distracted by one person in general. It was difficult, you didn’t know why. You were able to keep up with the meeting but about halfway into your boss's third bullet point you were getting warm and took off your sweater. The dress you wore was sleeveless, you were hoping you could cool off. You were trying not to look at him but your eyes found him anyway as you shrugged your cardigan off. When you did you found his eyes already on you, something in them.

“Chan?” Your boss had called him twice now and he snapped out of it and realized you noticed him staring, he quickly looked away. You could see his ears turning red.

“Yes sir?” Your boss asked Chan to present what his team had been working on this quarter, asked a few questions about Chan’s team, and where he’d like to see things go in the next quarter. Chan had an answer for everything and it came out as smooth as butter with his thick Australian accent, which you had not been expecting.

When Chan was done the boss called on you to do the same thing. You stood and started walking forward as Chan was headed back to his seat. The walkway was narrow, you went to step around each other but stepped in the same direction, you both kind of nervously laughed and then stepped in the same direction again.

“Sorry,” His slender fingers gently gripped your shoulder and he stepped behind you. His cologne was intoxicating and it was like one touch set your whole body on fire. When he passed you and headed to his seat you looked behind you for a second but he was already pulling out his chair. You tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach and focused on your presentation.

One by one all of the guys had to go up and do the same thing. It drug on forever if felt like. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, you didn’t think you could press your thighs together any harder. Chan just seemed to be intently listening to whichever one of the guys was presenting, seemingly unbothered. Finally your boss dismissed you all you were thanking the stars you could finally get out of there and away from Chan before you made a fool of yourself. Just before you could make your haste, exit Chan called your name.

“Oh excuse me, y/n? Would you mind coming to my office and running over a couple things about your team that I think I’d like to implement with mine?” You almost choked.

“Y-your office?” He nodded; he was acting perfectly normal. You’d thought, well... you’d thought maybe he was your soulmate with the way you were feeling but apparently, you're just a horny perv that thinks about fucking their co-workers.

“If you’re busy...” You didn’t want to seem impolite or like you weren’t a team player, he was really giving you a huge compliment by asking for such a thing. You just needed to get a hold of yourself.

“No! Uhehm, no I’m not busy... I’d be happy to go over whatever you’d like.” That sounded like more than it should have you felt like but he still seemed totally nonchalant. He bowed and then led the way, you following the trail of whatever cologne he was wearing. Chan opened the door and let you in first.

You walked into his office nervous, hoping you could keep control of yourself because you had never felt so out of control in your life. As soon as you were in his office Chan came in too, then shut and locked the door. You turned to him and he walked up on you quickly. Your heart started racing, his hands gently cradled your face, his now a breath away from yours.

“God please tell me you feel this too.” You were so relieved, you pulled him into a kiss as your answer. You had to taste his lips, they looked so juicy, a little red from worrying at them. You pulled away for a breath and backed towards his desk pulling him by his tie gently. He had a wicked smile on his face and followed. You sat on the desk legs spread, skirt riding up a bit and Chan nestled himself between your thighs, gripping your hips before kissing you again. You wrapped your arms around his wide shoulders and scooched forward.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since I started here.” He admitted suddenly, lips hovering over yours. You couldn’t help how big your smile got.

“Really?” He nodded biting at his lips and then kissing you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you until oxygen was needed.

“I’ve always noticed you too, it’s always kind of scared me.” You panted out. One of Chan’s hands was on your waist the other tracing your jaw.

“You don’t have to be scared baby girl.” You felt warm all over hearing him say that.

“I know.” You lifted your skirt more then hooked your fingers into the side of your panties and pulled them over, exposing your dripping sex to him. He looked down and his mouth watered but then he forced himself to look back up at you.

“Are you sure?” You nodded and pulled at him desperately.

“Mhmm.” You needed him. Chan started to unbuckle his pants, pulling them down and just as he was about to pull down his briefs, exposing the large outline in them, he realized something.

“Oh... uh... I don’t have a condom.” You looked at him sweetly, a little shy, you always were when it came to this stuff.

“Well... it’s just... together forever, right? I mean, that’s what this means... doesn’t it?” Chan cupped your face and nodded his eyes sparkling.

“Together forever.” He kissed you softly.

“I’m on the pill, so... it’s okay.” He shook his head, then dropped his underwear and you got a full view of what had been straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs. You gnawed at your lips and he didn’t waste time. Chan wrapped your legs around him and lined up with your wet hole. When he sank into you it finally made sense.

“Yes... fuck... f-feels so good baby girl. Please wanna hear you say my name, tell me how you want it beautiful.”

“Chan yes fuck... harder, fuck me harder...” Chan fucked you harder, panting and moaning just as much as you. You loved how he wasn’t scared to make a little bit of noise for you. Not enough for anyone outside the office to hear but enough to make you drip for him. Chan shook his head no.

“C-call me Chris...”

“What?” You stopped him and looked into his eyes, your soulmate’s eyes.

“C-Chris, my real first name is Chris...” I’ll be goddamned, you thought to yourself.

“What’s your last name?” He smirked at you with a funny look on his face, laughing a little.

“Seems like an unusual time to ask. Wanna know what yours is gonna be in the future?” You flushed and smiled.

“It’s Bang.” He kissed you. The fucking psychic was right.

“Why does everyone call you Chan?” He pushed a stray hair away and you couldn’t help but lean into his warmth.

“It’s my middle name and there is a lot of Chris’ on our team. So I go by Chan in the office, but everywhere else, I’m Chris and I’d very much prefer to be Chris when I’m inside you. He rolled his hips and your eyes rolled back.

“Mmmm Chris...” He started fucking you harder egged on by you using his actual first name.

“huhuhu Chrisss...” Harder harder harder he kept pounding into you. He loved it he wanted more.

“C-C-Chr-risss... g-gonna... gonna cum.” A light sweat was starting to break out on Chan’s forehead as he pushed you harder towards your climax. Your arms wrapped around him hand fulls of his beautiful curls.

“God fuck I’m gonna cum too... fuck! Cum with me baby girl... cum with me.” He snapped his hips into yours again, brushing your g spot and you went nose diving into your orgasm clutching onto his muscular frame tightly, gasping for air. As soon as your cunt started clenching around Chan he started coming too, pushing deep inside as he filled you.

You both held each other, your legs wrapped around him, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath. Once both your heartbeats returned to normal Chan helped you off his desk and pulled your skirt down for you. You adjusted his tie and he leaned in kissing you again.

“Uh do you maybe wanna grab some dinner tonight?” You smiled and tried to help tame his curls a bit after mussing them when you came.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice05280 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics

“I’d love to Chris.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#cal's requests🖤#minnysproutgriffinteddy

2K notes · View notes