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newobsessionweekly · 2 months

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You will always be my Boot

Main masterlist | The rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x FBI!FormerRookie!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You are a former FBI agent and come back to your roots after many years. Little did you know Tim waited for you all these years.

A/N: This is my first Tim Bradford one ever and I know I need some improvement in this police area. I'm thinking about making a part two of this. Anyways, let me know what you think. Have a wonderful day, bubs! Lots of love.

Requested: Yes Words: 2.5k Requests for Tim Bradford are open! GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

The flight was exhausting and the shitty bed from that cheap motel was even worse. They'd think an FBI agent would afford a five star hotel and a warm meal, instead of that reheated noodles you had last night, but LA is expensive as shit. One thing you didn't miss about this city were those self-centred Hollywood "stars" and the exorbitant prices.

You watched the time over and over again, shaking your foot nervously. You are ready to go, but you just can't gather the courage to face those police officers again. The bathroom light is dim and you put the blame on that for your horrendous bun, not because you lost practice. You redo the bun one more time and watch yourself in the mirror. LAPD uniform hugs your curves so perfectly and the overloaded belt accentuates your waist. You allow yourself to wear a small smile today, for the sake of old times.

The tranquility of the morning was shattered by the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out in the distance. Instantly alert, with your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins, you grabbed your service weapon and badge, slipping them into your waistband as you hurried out the door and into the cool morning air.

As you made your way down the narrow staircase of the motel, the sounds of the gunshots grew louder, sending a chill down your spine. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you quickly assessed the situation—a group of armed men engaged in a shootout with one another only a few blocks away. Confusion made its way to your mind; why would some people from the same gang fire at each other?

As you analyse their tattoos, some have it on their neck, some on their wrist, it snapped. You recognise those tattoos from your FBI files that lay on your motel bed, two different markings, two different gangs. Dangerous ones, wanted ones.

Without a second thought, you sprang into action, ducking behind parked cars and storefronts, you closed in on the scene, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to confront them. There's no time to wait for backup. And who'd you call anyway?

With a burst of adrenaline, you emerged from cover and sprinted towards the gunmen, your weapon drawn and ready. The element of surprise worked in your favor as you caught them off guard, their attention momentarily diverted as they turned to face you.

"Drop your weapons! FBI!" you shouted, your voice ringing out clear and commanding above the chaos of the shootout.

For a moment, there was hesitation in their eyes, uncertainty flickering across their faces as they weighed their options. But then, with a defiant snarl, they raised their guns once more, their fingers tightening on the triggers.

Time seemed to slow as the standoff unfolded, each moment stretched to its breaking point as you and the felons locked eyes, the tension thick in the air. And then, with a burst of gunfire, the situation erupted into chaos once more.

Bullets flew past you in a deadly dance as you returned fire, each shot ringing out like a thunderclap in the stillness of the morning. You managed to hit two of them, one in the shoulder, that dropped the gun and grabbed their wound in shock and the other one in the thigh, forcing them to fall into the ground. You didn't had enough handcuffs to secure them all, so it was your priority to stop them from running away until the officers arrived.

It's crazy to see how four rival gang members united to get rid of you when seconds before were about to blow their heads off.

"I said, drop your weapons, now!" you demanded to the masked one still standing, gunshots finally stopping. You didn't see any response or will to do so and that made you place aim for their legs as well, forcing them to collapse. "Hands behind your back, intertwine your fingers."

Before handcuffing them, you pulled up your phone and searched for that one number.

"Sergeant Grey" the voice on the other side responded.

"Agent Y/L/N, FBI. I have in custody two of Crenshaw and two of Tongan. I need backup and R/A. Crenshaw bulevard with W 66th Street." you informed Sergeant Grey.

"Copy that."

Not long after you made the call, three cars and an ambulance pulled up to the address you gave. The look on the officers faces when they saw you holding one handcuffed suspect and three injured on the street, was as satisfying as catching those. Adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you.

"Y/L/N, FBI." you presented yourself to the officers, you showed your badge and shake their hands, each wearing a mortified expression after they heard your name. "After they're checked, let's get going. I'm late for my first day." you demanded and the six officers nodded as an understanding.

You could tell by the look on their faces, some of them are rookies. You can't forget those eyes, you had the exact same expression when you were a rookie and as Tim as your T.O. didn't help much.

"Agent Y/L/N." a serious tone came from just as a serious man. Sergeant Grey standing tall and imposing in the booking room as you walked the men to one of the benches and let another officer take care of him. As you approached the man, a big and friendly smile appeared on his face "It's so good to have you back."

"Good to be back, sir." you accepted his handshake with that small smile from the morning that you promised yourself you'd be wearing all day.

Your name was on everyone's lips as you walked through the station besides Grey.

It had been years since you last walked these familiar corridors, but as you made your way toward the meeting room, a sense of nostalgia washed over you.

"Is that Y/N?" one officer whispered to another, having the impression you didn't hear them.

"Yeah. Still hot. Heard she's working with FBI now." that remark made you turn your head in their direction, locking your eyes with one of them as he swallowed the lump in his throat and returning to his seat.

Inside, the meeting room was filled with the buzz of conversation as officers gathered for the morning briefing. All eyes turned to you as you entered, whispers and murmurs following in your wake. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny, their curiosity palpable in the air as they watched the former FBI agent return to their ranks.

"Good morning everyone. Sorry I'm late, had to take care of something so early this morning because someone doesn't sleep." he glanced at you and the murmur stopped when the eyes landed on you standing in the doorframe. "Take a sit." you nodded and sat down in the first row.

"Is that Y/N?" Lucy whispered to Nolan and Jackson. It was impossible to shake the feeling of being under a microscope, every move you made scrutinized by your colleagues.

"Hell, yeah, she is!" Jackson laid his eyes on you and gave you an appreciation smile.

As the sergeant launched into the details of the day's assignments and priorities, you found it difficult to concentrate, the weight of everyone's eyes on you making it hard to focus. But you pushed through, determined to prove yourself in your new role as a police officer.

"Today we made serious progress towards the gangs that won't let Los Angeles sleep in peace. Agent Y/L/N, first thing in the morning had in custody four men, almost as important as the gang leaders." your mind zoned out, you already knew that story. But what you didn't know and what's really eating you inside is that specific blond man.

In the corner of the room, Talia and Angela exchanged knowing glances, their whispers barely audible over the sergeant's voice.

"Can you believe she's back?" Angela muttered.

"I heard she was with the FBI," Talia replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Wonder what brought her back here."

"From an FBI agent to an officer? Seems like a joke to me..." Lopez paused as she looked at Tim for a moment. "Maybe something bad happened. Maybe she did something bad." the excitement of her voice was unquestionable.

Meanwhile, Tim Bradford watched from his seat at the front of the room, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Memories of your time together as rookie and training officer flashed through his mind, the bond you had shared still lingering despite the years apart.

"I heard she was the best rookie this station ever had. And it was his rookie, can you believe that!" Angela's mind was focused on one subject and one only. She is more than convinced that something has happened between you and Tim.

"Almost 100 on every exam and she was the only person this grumpy smiled to!" Talia added, making Tim shift uncomfortable in his seat, his eyes not letting the sight of you even for a second.

"That's not true. And I'm not grumpy, I do smile..." Tim responded to their feminine gossip, something he's not doing too often. He still thinks it's a waste of time this kind of conversation and one's personal life is no one's business, but maybe, maybe he wants to know more about you. "Sometimes"

He was wondering as well what could've possibly had happened to make you come back to LA, knowing very well how much you hated the city and how much you suffered the moment you stepped on that plane.

Tim's heart was below the sea's surface, buried inside the burning hell somewhere since the moment he caught a glimpse of your siluete walking around these hallways again. His hands were sweating and the lump in his throat could swallow him.

But you were nowhere far away from that feeling either. All the feelings from back then were coming alive faster than the light-speed and the memories of the time you were his rookie, the looks, the touches, the sweetness of his words alongside the glances from your colleagues made your eyes fill with bittersweet tears. You had to raise your head a little and blink as fast as you could to make those tears disappear and take a few deep breaths to calm down. You have to put this feelings aside. Now.

As the meeting drew to a close, Sergeant Gray turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before moving on to the next item on the agenda.

"You're dismissed and be safe out there!" Gray closed the meeting and everyone rushed to start the day.

You waited for everyone to clear the room, mostly because you hate crowded places and people jostling around. You kept your head low, already full of everyone staring. When the room cleared just enough, you wanted to make your way to Sergeant Gray's office when a big, warm hand landed on your shoulder, freezing you on spot.

Some time ago, you knew by heart every single trace and curve of that hand, and now your mind doesn't disappoint you remembering it all with just a blink. His breath winding down your spine as minty as always.

You hated him. You hated yourself. Damn, you hate everyone and everything this moment.

"Y/N." his voice was as overwhelming as always and it made your feet weak. It made you weak and it hit you hard right into your bones. You didn't think twice and as you raised your chin up high and faked a confident expression, you turned to your heels to face him. Once and for all. "I can't believe you're back."

"Tim" you nodded, greeting him with a smile. This time a genuine one, wider and more powerful than the one you had forced yourself to wear all day. Not a forced one, but one that you found you couldn't hide. "It's been a while." you cleared your throat and searched his eyes.

They were staring right into your soul with the same spark and love you've missed so much. It seems like you've never changed, seems like everything is just the way it was. Like he was your TO, teaching you, teasing you, caring for you, having your back and you were his rookie, learning from him, turning into the best version of him, making him proud.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as you struggled to find the right words to say. The spark that had once ignited between you still burned bright, despite the years and distance that had separated you.

"How are you? How's Isabel?"

"Uh-Yeah..." he paused for a moment, the light in his eyes fading. "We separated a few months ago."

Tim wished this words would hurt more admitting them in front of you, would hurt just as much as he hurt you. But it didn't. That wound is almost healed, making room for another one to open.

"Oh, Tim. I'm so sorry" you were sincere, though not with all your heart. You knew it must've hurt like hell having in mind how much Tim loved his wife. But at some point he loved you too. Maybe not as much as her, maybe more, maybe less.

"But I'm fine, yeah. It's past now." he cracked a smile, resting his arm on the table as close to your thigh as you could feel its warmth. "What about you? Making an entrance for sure. Catching those guys from Crenshaw and Tongan, impressive. I taught you well." oh, he knows what he's doing and watching your shield breaking before his eyes, he's delighted.

"Oh, don't be so cocky—"

"Why are you here? Why now?" he asked. You rested your hand on your belt and raised an eyebrow as a response to his questions.

"You know I can't tell you." he sighed at your words, realising just now maybe the things are not how they were. You are not as open to him or talkative as before. You are not in love with him as you were before. But he's not done trying yet.

"Dinner tonight?" Tim was bold for sure and his question took you by surprise. You weighed the answer, but before you could say yes, he continued "I can't lose the chance again. I can't lose you again, Boot."

"Okay, yes!" you pushed your finger into his chest "Stop making those puppy eyes, you know I can't resist." he laughed and before you can walk away, he grabbed your waist and kissed your forehead gently. His lips lingering on your skin few more seconds, memorising your sweet scent, trying to remember it, like if he could ever forget.

"It's good to have you back, Boot!"

"Stop calling me 'Boot'!" you fought back, annoyed, but he enjoyed every moment. He missed you like hell and now all of this is hitting him hard in the face like a... boot. "I'm not your Boot" you persisted.

"Oh, you'll always be my Boot!"

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fleurhcss · 3 months

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˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Hyunjin x FEM Reader!

cw : photographer Hyunjin, needs a muse, reader and him will meet in his exhibition, blood, murder, nudes, sculpture classes, dead body tw, if you are sensible pls don't interact, MDNI. SENSITIVE CONTENT!

sw : blood kink, hair pulling, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, anal, oral (both receiving), riding, humping, teasing, touching, masturbation, blowjob, marks, biting, choke kink, they'll have sex covered in blood.

wc : 9.025

synopsis : Hyunjin's a photographer and meets reader at his own exhibition. He falls in love with her beauty and the way she talks about art, so he proposes to her to attend his sculpture classes and then, after some of them, to be his model for a nude photography project, which will lead them to have sex. One day, she arrives before the appointment and begins to explore his study, finding a cupboard where he keeps all the heads of the girls he has seduced before her. But she's not afraid, she's excited. After a few minutes he shows up, catching her in the moment and she tells him her little dark secret, so they set up a murder and then fuck in the bloody mess.

a/n : hii... that's the first time for me writing here and writing in English so PLS im sorry if there are some errors!! I hope u enjoy this anyway 🎀🎀

MASTERLIST

[ SMUT / TW ]

You have always been an art lover, which has led you to visit many exhibitions over the years. Photography and sculpture were your favourite subjects, and you have lost count of the number of exhibitions you have visited in your lifetime. However, it was a bit of a contradiction that art was not what you studied. You were a student of anatomy at university, which of course helped you to understand the human forms you so admired and loved to create. Although your studies were far from your true passion, you couldn't help but attend the private lessons that were often advertised in flyers around the city. That year alone, you attended no less than five classes, loving the way your hands shaped the clay beneath them. Its softness, the way it escaped your touch when wet: it was smooth, soft, elusive and malleable. Almost unpredictable, one might add. Once, because of a few air bubbles, you had to redo your work because it had burst in the kiln. Yes, one of the great faults of clay was its ability to burst if it was not perfectly formed. You were like clay, unpredictable. But you also loved the unpredictability of a photograph, the immediacy of a shot. The reality it represented. It was no coincidence that these were your favourite subjects.

You were walking around, sipping your caramel milkshake, after a long and tiring day at university. The music was on your mind, you imagined yourself in the scenarios that the soundtrack was transporting through your ears, but nothing could have distracted you from the sight of a giant billboard announcing a photography exhibition that weekend: The Art of the Body. This particular billboard had caught your attention not only because of the type of photography on display - nude exhibitions were rare in your town these days, too much of a scandal for the citizens. You were different, you appreciated every single muscle, every single feature of the human body. - But also for the way in which that body, unclothed, had been immortalised. Enclosed in a net that did not completely cover it, the woman's features were fully visible; she looked almost like a sculpture because of the contrast between light and dark.

You were enraptured by the image, your thoughts had clouded your mind, you had barely paid attention to the name of the photographer who was going to present this exhibition. But you didn't care, the subject matter was already of great interest to you. Nude photography by those who could not understand or feel it was considered almost scandalous. You found it a contradiction because very often the same people who criticised this kind of photography were the first to admire sculptures of the calibre and genre of Michelangelo's David, who, by the way, was naked.

For you, this kind of photograph was just like a sculpture. But warm, soft, even more real and expressive. You were sure that you would love that kind.

When you got back to your flat, the first thing you did was take a shower. It was the most plausible option after a long and tiring day, not least because you would have to clean up the mess left in your kitchen. In fact, by the time you found yourself having to clean it up, you were starting to get bored, so television would have been a good idea for entertainment at a time when all you wanted to do was sleep. You watched the news, and once again the topic of the day was the countless missing girls in your area. You wondered what was going on and why so many girls had mysteriously disappeared in a matter of days. There were no traces of mysterious serial killers, or even traces and statements from the victims themselves, if there were any. They had not been seen with anyone, nor had anyone talked about them. They had nothing in common. Or at least the police had not been good enough to find out. Well, in fact, the police had failed miserably from the start with the story of these girls' disappearance.

After all, there were no traces of the girls, and you had to clean up quickly because of the stench that was starting to fill the room.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Finally, the long-awaited day of the exhibition had arrived, and you were excited just to think that you would be able to see such works live, even more so if they were all close to the one on the poster that had caught your eye. You were well dressed for the occasion, you wanted to make yourself presentable. You were also excited to meet the artist. You hadn't read the name, you weren't even interested in meeting him, but as the days went by, your curiosity grew and you did some research to find out who the man was: he was a young man - well, very young - his name was Hwang Hyunjin, a photographer and professor of sculpture. You were very interested in that because those were your two favourite subjects. So you had to admit that you had made yourself beautiful in order to look like that in the eyes of such a man. Also because you had seen pictures of him on some magazine covers and on the Internet, and you had noticed that he was indeed a handsome man. Maybe even more than handsome. He himself seemed to be part of a collection of sculptures.

His features were delicate but masculine, his body seemed well proportioned and he was tall and lean. He had dark, feline eyes and lips that were sure to drive all the women who had ever met him crazy.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and, after spraying on your ever-present perfume, you left the house, heading for the exhibition. It was Saturday night, the streets of your city were crowded, kids ready to go to some club, men with wives were ready to go to dinner. Saturday night chaos was, as always, inevitable.

You found yourself having to turn down your best friend's invitation to some club just to go to this exhibition. But she understood, she knew how much you loved art and you hadn't missed a single one of these exhibitions that came to your town every year. It was true, you had never missed one. Once you even got a cold and covered yourself well with a huge scarf and a heavy coat. Unlike the way you were dressed today. A tight black dress that stopped at mid-thigh, a long black coat, your beloved lace-up boots and a chignon that gathered your hair delicately. You were truly charming.

When you arrived at the exhibition, you immediately took a glass of red wine that was offered to every visitor. You were enchanted by the splendour that surrounded you. Photographs of all kinds: coloured, black and white, bodies covered in nets, naked bodies, bodies covered in liquids - water, blood - lying in the soil , all one with nature. But the photograph that struck you the most was of a body whose head could not be seen and it was crushed below the knees, while a long stream of blood was falling on it. It was strange, the photo was in white and black, well contrasted, sharp, but the blood had not lost its colour: warm red, carmine. You could feel its density, its fluidity, through the photograph. It had given you goosebumps.

A warm, but not too deep voice distracted you from your thoughts.

«This painting is called Passion's Flood.»

You turned to see the boy you had been searching for, for the past two days, and your mouth almost fell open.

His beauty was even more ethereal in person. The complexion of his skin was almost golden, and those eyes seemed to bore into you. The articles were not wrong, this was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was elegant, refined, attractive. You didn't even know what adjective to use to describe him, to do justice to such beauty. You were so dazzled that you almost forgot everything you wanted to say to this man.

«Why this name? More to the point, why the adjective 'passion'?» you said as soon as you awoke from your almost trance-like state. The words slipped from your tongue, as did your curiosity as to the real reason for this choice.

It was strange to hear that such an image had been given such a name. You were curious about the definition of 'passion' for this man. Why it was associated with the image of blood. That rich red liquid dripping onto a naked body, accentuating the shape of the woman portrayed. This made the man behind you smile. He approached you and studied you carefully. He examined you from top to bottom. From head to toe. It was inevitable that he would find you a beautiful, attractive, girl. He bit his lower lip and glanced at the work in front of you, then shifted his gaze back to the subject of his interest: you.

«Interesting question, I see you also pay a lot of attention to the names of the works.» your eyes were fixed on his lips, watching them move at the sound of his voice. How he licked them and made them shine. Perfectly swollen and red. Watching him had become more interesting than watching his work. «Inevitably, the intrinsic meaning of the work itself could be understood from the name, but it is interesting how you used the adjective 'passion' to describe a body covered in blood. The work itself is interesting, it is rare to see something like this in an exhibition. You have a fascinating mind, Mr. Hwang.»

This only inflated the ego of the man at your side, who wasted no time in positioning himself in front of his own work. He flashed a smug, satisfied smile, interested in how your mind was working at that moment. He could not stop the instinct, the primal instinct, that inevitably drew him to you. He licked his lips for the umpteenth time and crossed his arms over his chest, allowing the fabric of the jacket he was wearing to fit better over the obviously defined muscles. «Call me by my name. I don't think there's much of an age difference. In any case, the definition of 'Passion Flood' in this case refers to the fact that passion can flare up in any way, at any time. The association with blood is not only because it automatically brings to mind a warm colour, such as bright red, but also because passion flows in our veins, in our blood. The blood itself evokes the heat, the impact, the sensation that passion can give us. A unique adrenaline rush. For few.» you were enchanted by the way his mind worked, the man was a genius.

Not only was he good at shootings, but the way he spoke to you, the tone of his voice, was like a mermaid to a sailor. He would lure you out to sea and then grab you by the tail. His piercing gaze was as if he wanted to trap you and drag you down with him.

«Your definition of passion is interesting, Hyunjin. I can also say that this definition fits perfectly with the way you create your works. If I may say so, this photograph is extraordinary, perhaps one of the best in this exhibition so far. After all, passion is what you do. Photography is in your blood, it is your passion. Art itself, right? Looking at this photograph, I can see the body of the liquid, the vivid colour and the contrast with the chiaroscuro of the body. I can see the softness of the flesh, its silkiness.» When you stopped talking, the man in front of you licked his lips, pleasantly pleased with what your mind could conceive in terms of art.

«Your mind fascinates me, ...?» he paused, clearly inviting you to tell him your name. You felt the blood boiling in your veins, a heat permeating your body. As if him had set it on fire. «Y/N,» you whispered, once again entranced by his beauty. You were sure he had bewitched you somehow. His charm was beyond anything else. Hwang Hyunjin was not just an artist, he was art itself.

«Do you also work in the field of art?» he asked, moving dangerously close to your body. Your mind went blank, he was far too close. You could not say a word. He was like a magnet, the closer he came, the closer you wanted to be. It was crazy how a man could have such an effect on you, who had always declared yourself a woman who would not be intimidated or subjugated by men. But with Hwang Hyunjin it was different. You were under his spell and would let him do anything to you just to feel him near you.

«I take anatomy classes, but in my spare time I take classes in photography and sculpture. Let's say they are my biggest passions», you could see his eyes light up when you said this. That was his moment. Hyunjin could not fail to use this moment to invite you to one of his classes. Yes, among the thousands of things Hwang did, there were also private lessons in sculpture and photography. And you could not help but be delighted, your heart almost leaping out of your chest. The one and only, the magnetic Hwang Hyunjin had personally asked you to join his sculpture class.

As he walked towards you, your bodies colliding, you found yourself squeezing your legs together, you felt a jolt penetrate your intimacy. His lips came to your earlobe and caressed it, «I expect to see you there, Y/N».

Needless to say, when you left that night, all you could think about was Hyunjin's pointed hands running over your body.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

It had been a really tough week at university, you had to dissect several bodies and your placement was about to start. You were going to be a trainee in a forensic laboratory, so your lectures were now harder and the level of attention they demanded was higher. However, the thought of attending evening classes that Friday, taught by Hyunjin - the man who had been on your mind for the past week - helped you relax.

Your best friend was aware of the little fixation you had developed with the man and often used it to tease you. When you told her you were going to meet him in class that evening, she made so many dirty jokes that you wondered if it was still her. But other girls had disappeared in those days and she didn't want you to be one of them. So she was worried. As you prepared to go to class, she had given you more advice than your mother had given you in your entire life. In fact, you felt like a daughter, a little girl to her. It was obvious that you would be careful, you wanted to return home safely.

So you prepared and made yourself beautiful, just to impress the man of your thoughts, and then you left the house, leaving a trail of fruity perfume behind you. That evening, even though the occasion was nothing more than a sculpture class, you had dressed well. You had on a light sweater that left a strip of your belly uncovered, burgundy with vertical stripes of fabric. Loose, baggy jeans below your navel and flats that matched the colour of your shirt. But the breeze that had risen that evening had forced you to put on your beloved leather jacket.

Your hair was loose, falling over your shoulders as one hand held the strap of the bag tightly. You were eager to see how Hyunjin taught during his lessons, eager to see those hands you dreamed of every night on you, running over the fresh clay, shaping it, imagining it to be your body. You were curious to see what this evening would bring, whether it would be as interesting as you thought it would be, or whether it would be a total disappointment.

Arriving at the location indicated on the flyer Hyunjin had given you, your eyes met the moment you crossed the threshold of the hall. He stood out like a marble statue, his hair tied back in a ponytail, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and baggy jeans covering a pair of brown and white Nikes on his feet. The piercing in his eyebrow made his gaze at you even more captivating. You entered, bowed and took your seat. They weren't all taken yet, surely he hadn't started because he was expecting a few more people to attend the class.

Behind him were blocks of clay and a table with all sorts of tools and materials for modelling. You assumed that he would be distributing these materials to the students himself, and were not at all surprised to find that most of them were women who were just as interested in the art as they were in the man who was going to teach it to them.

Your gazes were chained as if nothing could break it, it was only interrupted when Hyunjin realised that the hall was now full and it was time to start the lesson. He stood in the middle of the hall with a smile on his face, he was really handsome. He managed to be delicate and attractive at the same time. You were sure that this boy would not be easy to get out of your mind. It was clear that you wanted him more than you thought. «Welcome everyone, this is the first lesson of this course where we will cover the basics and modelling with clay. I have some tools here with me, after I give you a general introduction to the subject, I will hand them out to all of you, along with a lump of clay, so that we can begin the actual course.»

Needless to say, you lost focus after his introduction, too focused on watching his lips move and the vein in his neck throb. You watched his movements carefully, the way the fabric of his shirt occasionally allowed a glimpse of the hollow of his v-zone, the way the material of his jeans clung perfectly to his slender thighs. The man was a dream, and yet he looked like a demon disguised as an angel. His elegant, almost princely movements had managed to hypnotise you. You felt your body go numb and shot through with a long series of electric shocks, all of which landed in your stomach. The sexual tension you felt when standing next to Hyunjin was now sky-high.

It was Hyunjin himself who distracted you from your unchaste thoughts about him. He placed a series of objects on your bench and winked and smiled at you. That made you glow red, and not just on your cheeks. You felt a pleasant warmth spreading through your body and you weren't sure what it would lead to. Certainly nothing good in the state you were in now. «Good to see you here, Y/N.» he whispered in your ear, making you blush again. You lost your words.

As Hyunjin took his place behind a table with all the materials needed to mould the clay, it was fascinating to watch how his wet hands began to caress the block, softening it. Kneading, massaging the malleable material. But the thing that took your breath away again was the way his eyes locked on you as he spoke. As he explained how to handle the clay, as he squeezed it, as he moulded it in his hands, his gaze was fixed on you. You squeezed your legs together, and you were sure he noticed because of the smirk in his eyes. This made you even more embarrassed.

You watched as his tapered fingers created shapes, sweeping over the material, smeared with clay, to shape it to his liking. You wished you were that lump of clay. You wished he would touch you the way he did with that slippery material.

As you began to shape the clay yourself, you hardly thought about Hyunjin's fingers caressing you as you wished. Your mind was lost in the farthest reaches of your thoughts as you concentrated on shaping the lump. You hadn't even noticed Hyunjin watching your hands move as you did with his. His gaze devoured your body and hinted at what was going on in his mind. He was curious how those skilful hands would move around his member. It made him quite aroused, but he could not afford to have an erection in the middle of class by having unchaste thoughts about you.

As the classroom began to empty, the teacher greeted everyone politely and took the opportunity to approach you, who had not noticed anything, still lost in your world and the little statue you were forging. He positioned himself behind you as soon as the last student had left the room, and began to stroke your arms and blow on your neck. It was what brought your head back down to earth. You bit your lower lip as his hands moulded the clay with yours and his warm body clung to yours.

You found yourself gasping as his lips touched your lobe again. This boy would be the end of you, you were sure of it.

«You know, I noticed how your legs tightened at the sound of my voice. I also noticed your eyes burning into my form as I gave this lecture. I'm very curious to know what fantasies are running through your head, little Y/N,» he giggled, then washed his hands in the next sink and invited you to join him. And once again you were hypnotised, enchanted by his voice and his touch. When he took you by the hips, placed you on the only clean counter and spread your legs, you couldn't help but gasp. Words were dead in your throat now, you looked at him with bated breath and all you wanted to do was sink his face between your thighs. «Look what we have here, - he said, stroking your intimacy from above the fabric of your jeans, which he could feel were already wet, - there's no need for you to hide now. I got you,» he whispered again against your neck.

«Hyunjin... Please,» you murmured, your thoughts now clouded by the pleasure of his touch. «What? Tell me what you want,» he taunted you again. Your hand moved to his wrist and pushed it towards the crotch of your jeans. That drove him crazier than you thought.

He unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down to your knees, his gaze resting on the crotch of your now wet panties. You felt no shame, the only thing running through your body now was the adrenaline of being fucked by this man. Your rational part had been switched off by the only one part that had to take over. «Look at you, I haven't even touched you properly and you're already all wet, you little whore. For now you'll be satisfied with what I'm going to give you tonight, if you're good enough you'll get another prize after this one,» your head had fallen back and your back was now arched. It was only with his words that he had been able to bring you to this state. Giggling, he moved the fabric of your panties with two fingers, the same ones that slowly began to massage your walls, while his eyes carefully scanned every corner of your body. You were going crazy, you wanted more and your grip on his wrist let him know it. «Look at you, so needy for my touch. I have a crazy idea that you can't refuse. I need this favour. No one inspires me, attracts me like you do. Be my muse and let me photograph this beautiful, unclothed body,» he whispered into your ear, pushing his fingers further between your pussy lips.

He did not penetrate you, but you were sure that only with this type of touch you could come. You nodded, reeling from the spell he had cast on you, and he smiled, pleased at the state you were in. He moved closer to you, not a kiss, just a bite on your lower lip and one in the hollow of your neck. Which made you quite dizzy with the sensation of his fingers now moving in a circular motion over your intimacy.

«Very good, Princess. Now why don't you cum for me? Like a good girl,» he whispered and began to move his fingers at a speed you didn't think possible. But your mind was clouded and you needed to feel under your hands how much he needed your touch too, so with a grin you grabbed the crotch of his trousers and began to move your hand up and down, feeling how great his length was. But there was no pleasure in doing this from above his jeans, so you inserted your hand into the fabric and with quick movements began to masturbate his intimacy. His moans were satisfying and made your head spin, you were almost in the same state. He growled, moving quickly on your vagina as you did with his member, now a moaning mess, playing with the tip of his member, stimulating it.

It was obvious that after a few minutes you would cum in each other's hands with a loud orgasm, and you did. You screamed her name as her teeth sank into the hollow of your neck, biting it. «I have no class on Tuesday, come here, to this address, my long awaited project will finally come to life,» he whispered in your ear as he licked his fingers covered in your juices, just as you licked yours, soiled with his.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

To say that you had been thinking about what had happened with Hyunjin all weekend was an understatement. The boy hadn't left your mind for a second, nor had the feeling of his fingers over your intimacy. You were constantly thinking about what you had done and the desire to go deeper was alive and growing inside you. It was obvious that you wanted to be fucked by him, so much so that you almost forgot your own name. When Hyunjin was in front of you, all rational thought went out the window. When he had asked you to be his muse, a warmth had grown in your chest and spread between your legs. You couldn't wait to pose naked for him. To let his hands move your body as he wished. Even at that moment, his hands were touching you in your mind, as you rubbed against the pillow in your room, with another news report of a missing girl in the background. But your mind was too busy thinking about Hyunjin to listen to how this girl, unlike the others, you had actually seen in the course of sculpting that the man you dreamed of every night was taking.

When you reached your orgasm, certainly not like you did with Hyunjin's hand, you decided it was the best to take a shower. The next day was the big day you had been looking forward to. You were going crazy. Your best friend had called you to find out the details, but you still hadn't told her what had happened between you and Hyunjin, you would when you maybe had sex fully. Also because that was what you had hoped for most. To hear how he wanted to fuck you. You giggled to hear how she imagined possible scenarios for your encounter, if only she knew how far you had already gone.

When the time and day finally came for you to meet Hyunjin for 'his long awaited project', you couldn't help but feel the shivers running through your body. You wore your hair in a slightly dishevelled bun, a tight black skirt covering you to mid-thigh and a slightly unbuttoned blouse with a burgundy lace-embroidered bra wrapped around your torso. Black boots on your feet and the usual leather jacket over your shoulders.

You gasped as Hyunjin's slim and elegant figure appeared behind you. He was wearing a blue silk shirt that showed his chest, tight black jeans and pointed ankle boots of the same colour. Sunglasses and a necklace surrounded the beauty already present in the man, and the loose hair falling down his neck made him even more attractive in your eyes.

His gaze gave you goosebumps; he approached you with an almost devilish smile and greeted you with a kiss on the lips. At that moment, you felt the ground give away beneath your feet. You looked at him as, smirking at the way he was making you feel, he opened the studio door and let you in first like a gentleman. «I see you've made yourself pretty for me, little Y/N. I like the way you're dressed, that bra fits you like a glove, it's a shame we have to take it off,» he whispered as he slowly removed your leather jacket and put his glasses elsewhere. His voice guided you, sending shivers down your spine. You noticed that all the materials he needed were already arranged in every corner of the studio and understood that he didn't want to waste any time in arranging what he needed. Kissing your neck, he began to remove your shirt, gently running his fingers down your arms and then your torso, then removing your bra as well, cupping your tits with his hands and massaging them, causing you to give a moan of pleasure that made you throw your head over one of his shoulders. «They are perfect, they have a wonderful texture, a perfect shape to be cupped by my hands,» he blew on your shoulder, biting it almost violently. But this action only made you moan even more.

Slowly he began to move his hands down, caressing the rest of your body, making you gasp as he pulled off your skirt and then slowly your panties. You were completely naked to his eyes this time. He bit his lip as he caressed every part of your body, from your breasts to your bottom, cupping and massaging one of your buttocks. «Like a good little girl, take off your shoes and lie down on this wooden hoop,» he said, and you obeyed. Without a word. You felt his eyes burning on you, like fire. You lay down in front of him and let him touch you in any way that would satisfy his desires. When he grabbed the camera, you squeezed your legs together, already feeling the effect of his intense gaze on you.

It made him laugh, but not in amusement. Not at all. It was almost diabolical. You saw how he approached you by getting on top of you and opening your legs, he began to watch how your pussy shrank around nothing, completely wet. This made him move his nose closer to it and blow on it. It had driven you so crazy that you not only let out a long moan, but arched your back so that your vagina was closer to his nose. And he grinned as he slipped two fingers inside you without warning, taking a picture just as your back arched again, your head fell back and your lips parted in a moan. « Very good baby, you are the perfect muse for this project. No one could have done as well as you,» he whispered as he pulled his fingers out from inside you and brought them to his lips, sucking away your juices.

You went crazy, your body was burning even though you were naked, craving his touch, his hands on you. Every time he approached to take your picture, you hoped he would touch you, something more than mere caresses. Even if they were not 'mere caresses'.

But when he put down his camera and caught up with you at a fast pace, you realised that maybe he didn't just want to take pictures. And in the end, that was what you were hoping for. He towered over you with his body, observing how perfect yours was. He caressed every part of you until he lowered himself to your lips and began a ravenous, passionate kiss. You moaned at the contact and his hands began to massage your breasts until, running out of air, he pulled away from your lips and then lowered himself to your breasts and sucked on them voraciously. Your head was elsewhere, you could do nothing but give way to his touch. Your hands were harpooned in his hair, pulling at it. Your legs tightened around his torso as his pelvis moved in search of yours. Hyunjin was mad. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins; he needed to release all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. «My bitch, that's what you are. Just fucking mine. And like a good girl you are going to feed me now,» he smiled almost maniacally as his face settled between your thighs. He had taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, which were now too tight to contain his obvious erection. You clutched his hair as he began to bite your inner thigh, leaving bite marks and bruises everywhere. But you didn't care, you just wanted to feel him between your legs.

Hyunjin began to take long laps on your cunt, spreading it with his fingers so that he could better slide his tongue between your walls. You were a whimpering mess, all too pleasurable. He sucked and moved his tongue voraciously, as if he really wanted to eat you. He pulled at the lips covering your clit with his teeth and then sucked on them almost violently. You felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't want to come like that, you wanted him to fuck you. «Please Hyunjin...mh...stop...it's too much, I'm about to come...!» you gripped his hair in a vice grip. But that did not matter to him, if it meant making you cum several times in one evening, he would do it without fail.

His mouth was harpooned between your walls, his tongue moving as if he were kissing you and not what was between your legs. You were going out of your mind and the closer you came to orgasm the more he felt it and went fast. «Fuck Hyunjin!» you shouted before cumming all over his face. Which pleased him by the way. He licked his lips and without a second thought started to kiss you again, so much so that you could feel yourself on his tongue. But that was not enough, he wanted you. «I'm going to fuck you so hard you have no idea. Now behave as well as you have so far and suck me off,» he said as he removed the last of his clothes. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his erection, certainly getting him all the way in your mouth would have been quite a challenge. You watched him ravenously, having dreamed of this moment for far too long. You began to slowly run your hand down the length of him, massaging his balls as well, you were slow, running your fingers along the veins and playing with his head. He looked exhausted to see you like that. His moans became louder. You smiled and took him in your mouth, all the way to his uvula. This made him tighten his grip on your hair, which was clenched in his hands. He pulled hard on them as he fucked your mouth. Your hands were tight on his thighs as you slid it over your tongue. You spit on the tip, then took it back into your mouth and ran your tongue along every vein. Concentrating especially on the tip. «You are fucking phenomenal. My good whore, keep it up, faster,» he said in a broken voice as he used his pelvis to push against your mouth.

It did not take many more thrusts before it poured into your mouth in hot streams. You stared at him intently as you swallowed the liquid. With a grin, now his umpteenth, he ran his thumb between your lips, cleaning them of his own seed and attacking them with an almost violent kiss. It was so quick that you didn't even notice when he slipped two fingers inside you and began to move them quickly as his member became erect again. Seeing you under him like that drove him crazy and he couldn't wait to fuck you the way he wanted to. He wrapped one hand around your neck, making you moan. You didn't know that these things could ever turn you on, but with Hyunjin, with his hands on your body, it was impossible not to. Soon his fingers became four inside you, and the way he twisted them inside you made you think he already knew what your walls looked like.

It was unexpected for you when you were turned over and positioned on all fours with him standing behind you, erupting like one of your many beloved sculptures. He rubbed his erect member against your entrance, making you shiver as only he could. «God, I can't wait to fuck you, if only you could see the way your butthole is clenching around nothing as I rub against you,» he grinned. But you could feel it, you could feel it all right. «P...lease put it in, I need it Hyunjin mmm - make it quick please, fuck m...e» by now you were beside yourself. Your brain was disconnected.

You heard him laugh, pleased that you felt so weak under his touch. But you couldn't help it; it was as if he had cast a spell on you.

Without a word, he thrust into you in one swift motion. You let out a moan, just as he had. He pushed your back down so that your face touched the floor. You were a fire, you felt your body burning and you just wanted more, more and more. «Fuck,» he shouted. He had your hair in his grip as he squeezed your buttocks and began to thrust into you. You felt the floor turn and collapse beneath your body. You felt full and also heard the sounds Hyunjin made. He growled as he thrust into you with dry, precise strokes. «You're so fucking tight and hot. I could come right now,» he growled thunderously. You couldn't answer, too busy enjoying the feel of his dick inside you. But you needed to feel him deeper, you wanted to feel all of him.

You moved your pelvis closer to his, driving him crazy, he bit his lip while you were a moaning mess, doing nothing but mumbling unrelated words to each other. You were going crazy, you wanted to feel him burning inside you, between your walls. «Fuck, yes, shit!» you heard him say as he held your pelvis tightly against his. The strokes were faster, you felt his cock touching your sensitive spot, stimulating it. You were sure it would not be long before you came. He pulled your hair hard towards him and with the hand holding your pelvis he began to push your body against his own, as if you were standing up. He tightened his free hand around your neck and you moaned at the lack of air.

«Plea...se Hyunjin... harder... faster... fuck the...re...» you said incoherently as he bit your neck, leaving an obvious signal. «Shut up, I decide.»

He whispered in your ear, then increased his thrusts. He forced you back onto the cold wood and you felt his body crush yours as he squeezed your neck and thrust into you at a relentless pace. It was impossible at this point not to let out a loud, high-pitched moan along with your humours.

«Very good, Princess. Now make me come, like a good girl,» he said, overstimulating you, by this time you had reached your limit, your body was weak. But the sound of his thrusts drove you even crazier. After a few final thrusts, you toothed in the hot, sticky fluid that filled your hole. You moaned along with him, riding out his orgasm as his seed dripped from your thighs. He growled and let go of you, kissing your shoulder.

You never expected him to clean you up by putting his tongue between your buttocks and licking away his own cum. This made you moan at his touch, causing him to giggle, which made his tongue vibrate inside your hole.

As he stood up and began to clean it up, including you, he leaned towards your face and blew on your lips, leaving a slow, passionate kiss. «I want you here this Friday, Y/N.»

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Days later, you were still thinking about the way Hyunjin had fucked you so well in the photo room. You couldn't get it out of your head. Even when you found yourself cleaning up the huge stinking mess you had made. That day you had made more of a mess than usual, you had to be more careful the next time.

When you had finished cleaning up the mess, you decided it would be better for you to eat: you had to cook lunch. The next day you were to meet the man who had been in your thoughts for two weeks. You couldn't think of anything else. Hyunjin really seemed to have cast a strange spell on you. But you didn't mind. Just like it hadn't bothered you to feel that his body was completely connected to yours.

After a quiet lunch you decided it would be best to organise your tools and materials, after this morning they were all in a mess and you hated mess. You had even left them out of storage the last time. So you stood patiently in front of your cupboard, arranging the duffel bag that you jealously guarded. Meanwhile, you wondered why the police still hadn't found anything about the girls. The number had increased enormously, and whoever was making them disappear had to be an expert to get away with it without leaving any evidence. You'd like to ask yourself who would ever be able to go unnoticed for almost twenty days while the police still hadn't found anything. After tidying up the mess you had made, you decided that it might be best to think about what to wear to meet Hyunjin tomorrow. You were extremely impatient.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

And there you were, in front of the usual studio. Where Hyunjin had arranged to meet you. You had dressed up, a black over the knee coat, your usual leather jacket, black boots and this time your long hair was over your shoulders. However, you noticed that the studio door was already open; maybe Hyunjin was already inside, just waiting for your arrival. You bit your lip, unsure what to do.

What would be wrong with going in?

So you did, but no one was there.

«Hyunjin?» you called, hoping that the man would appear before you. But curiosity got the better of you and you started walking around the studio, which was large but not too crowded. There were scattered tools, pieces of clay and photographic paper. But there was one thing that caught your eye. The door to a small room was half open, and from it came a strong smell that you knew too well. You were used to the smell. But you wondered why it was coming from the cupboard in Hyunjin's study and why you had never smelled it before, since you had been there twice before. So you went to the door, opened it and put your hand to your mouth.

You had just found the culprit behind the disappearance of so many girls in your town.

There were so many heads arranged in rows on tables, the blood had been cleaned off, but the skin looked intact, as if it had not decomposed. They looked like so many porcelain dolls. You started to get closer when you felt a presence behind you and your breath caught in your throat. «Someone found something they weren't supposed to see, don't you think, Princess?» you turned around so slowly that when you saw him covered in blood, an electric shock almost ran through your entire body.

But you were not afraid; your curiosity had overcome your fear.

«How did you make them so porcelain-like and not get caught?» you whispered as his body clung to yours, crushed against the wall. He chuckled, trying to see an edge of fear in your face. He was surprised to find none. That made you even more special and unique in his eyes. No one had ever been like you before. «Aren't you afraid? Ask me how I made them like this instead of running away and reporting me to the police,» he laughed. But you smiled, grabbed his hair and brought his face closer to yours. Lips on lips. «I'm not afraid. In fact, I'm curious. You made them look like so many disembodied dolls. Where did you throw their bodies without getting caught? It takes talent,» the answer made his eyes sparkle.

You were definitely different.

He grabbed you by the neck and tightened his grip. But you weren't afraid, you were sure he wouldn't hurt you. He was just angry because you made him feel different. Because it was you. You made him want you more than anything.

He slipped a hand under your dress, felt how wet the crotch of your panties was.

You giggled.

«You are different. You are not afraid. You're turned on by all of this, you sick little whore,» you laughed. At the top of your lungs. You pulled him closer with one leg and rubbed your pelvis against him, moaning. «I may have a dark little secret of my own, my dear Hyunjin. How about we take advantage of it?» you bit his lip. His head was spinning, he felt his hands burning. «First tell me about this dark little secret you little bitch,» you pressed your bodies together and felt yours almost catching fire, you wanted it. Again. At least you wanted him to make you come.

«Haven't you ever wondered why I take anatomy lessons when my passion is something else?» you giggled, leaving him confused. You were like him. «I love dissecting corpses even more when they are fresh and made by me, squeezing organs in my hands, and I would love to see them intact forever. Why don't you tell me your little secret? How do you make those heads like that?» you moaned under his touch, quickly rubbing your cunt against his thigh, wetting it. «You're fucking crazy,» he laughed maniacally and then began a fierce kiss, as if your bodies were about to catch fire. You continued to move on his thigh, moaning his name on your lips as you jerked him off over his trousers. All this was turning you on more than you thought. Your breath was short, you couldn't hold back any longer, so you let out a long moan, you on his leg and him in his trousers. It was fast but intense.

«How about cooperating, princess?» he laughed, still above you. «With great pleasure,» you whispered growling into his mouth.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

After that day, you invited Hyunjin to your house and showed him your collection. It was funny to see his surprised face. He never expected to see that side of you. That day, you orchestrated the perfect plan. Your victims had rarely been women, and his were all women. He also explained to you how he chose his victims, his modus operandi : he often went to this café frequented by students, and often heard these girls squawking like chickens and insulting art, a thing he revered. So did the woman's body. So why not get rid of them after seducing them and keep the body as a prize? It was a perfect idea in his mind. So he decided to prove it to you himself.

You stood at the table behind him and a certain Sasha, he had met her that morning when he brought you your coffee and decided that she would be the ideal victim. You watched as he tried to seduce her with a grin, running his hand down her back to her bottom. You bit your lip, a little jealous of the touch he was reserving for her.

When they got up, you followed them silently, already knowing where Hyunjin was taking her: at the back of his study was a large chamber where he carried out his murders and burned the remaining bodies: the clay oven, a very good idea, you thought.

Everything happened very quickly, the way he undressed her and she undressed him. You trembled. You hated to see the way the girl touched him. He was almost ready to fuck her when, with a wink, he moved you forward and handcuffed the girl's hands and feet. But she screamed in vain, the walls were soundproofed, Hyunjin really had thought of everything.

He took off your clothes, stroking your body, and put them aside with his own so they wouldn't get dirty. After all, it was impossible to remove blood stains from the fabrics. He bit your shoulder and patted your ass, then stood statuesque in front of the girl. You watched closely as he slit her throat with a sharp knife, splashing blood everywhere. And you flanked him as he opened her chest and began to harvest the organs that he would soon show you how to embalm. You loved it.

Soon a pool of blood spread beneath your bodies. You sat on his naked pelvis, as bloodied as he was. He brought the knife between your mouths and you did not hesitate a moment before licking the blood off the metal, crossing your tongue with Hyunjin's. His vermilion hands cupped your breasts, your thighs. Your body. You were the woman he adored. His muse. The half he shared his madness with. His illness. Your mouths met, you drew your lips together, biting your tongues. It was a fierce, ravenous, passionate kiss. Your intimacy rubbed against your naked pussy, wet and warm. You couldn't wait to fuck him. He bit your neck ravenously. As if he wanted to eat you. You loved the way he was so impetuous with you, so passionate. He drove you crazy. «How about we play a little princess?» he grinned, then put two fingers to your vagina and began to move them quickly. Your moans were disconnected and his lips were tight on your breasts, sucking on your nipples and pulling on them with his teeth. Your hands were harpooned in your hair, pulling at it. You definitely wanted more.

He entered you slowly, playing with your walls. As he licked the blood from your body. «Mhh, Hyunjin faster please,» you begged him, pressing your pelvis against his. You wanted more, you wanted him inside you. Your hand reached his intimacy and began to play with his glans, pressing your thumb on the tip so that he moaned. You loved seeing him like that under your touch, even more so when he was completely covered in blood. His hand reached your neck as you decided his fingers were not enough to satisfy you and stood up, sitting straight on his cock. This caused him to moan sharply. «Have a good ride, Hyunjinie,» you whispered in his ear. And he grinned. He took his fingers, smeared with blood and your fluids, into his mouth to lick it all off and then push it into your mouth, playing with your tongue as your walls adjusted to his thick length. You pulled your head back as he tired of waiting and gave a precise thrust inside you, gripping your neck tightly. You loved it when he did this. You began to jump up and down on his length, letting out moans that fortunately no one could hear thanks to the soundproof walls. Hyunjin bit his lip hard as you humped him. He loved the feeling of watching you riding him. He felt a unique warmth running through his body.

But he was tired; speed and strength were not enough for him. He made you lie down in that pool of blood, put his hands under your knees and bent your legs towards your breasts. He entered you with a precise thrust, as if he knew just the right spot to hit you, and your loud moaning let him know that was exactly where he needed to thrust. So with almost animal speed he resumed his thrusts inside you. He put your legs on his shoulders while he held your neck tightly with one hand and played with your clit quickly with the other. It drove you crazy. Your moans were now as uncontrollable as the times Hyunjin had cried out in pleasure. «Fuck Princess, how good you take me. Your pussy is perfect for me, so ,warm. You fucking hold me so well, you little whore,» he growled. You couldn't help but moan loudly at those words. You couldn't speak, every time you tried to say something the words died in your throat.

«I'm... coming... fucking H... Hyunjin for fuck's sake! Ther...e yeah!» you moaned one last time before tightening your warm walls around his cock. «Fuck I'm about to come too, squeeze me so fucking tight.» And he, now at the top of his lungs, poured hot streams into you, filling you. But he didn't come out; he decided to tear himself all over you as he filled you, letting his cum drip out of your cunt.

You stroked his long wet hair as he kissed your breasts. «You are mine forever, just know that,» he whispered, biting you. You giggled. «I wasn't planning on looking for anyone else after you, Hyunjin,» he smiled, then looked at you and licked a drop of blood that had fallen from your shoulder.

«I like you covered in blood.»

TAGLIST 🎀 : @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @sugarsweetsugarsweet @rylea08 @skzswife @hyunjinhoexxx @hyunjinnie2000 @boi-bi-ahaha @nanamongmong @yongbokkiesworld @hyunjinnnsgirl @reader1221

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sinnersweets · 3 months

Text

DogDay x Reader part 4

<;-----part 3, part 5----->

A/N: Making these a little bit longer for you all, enjoy!

Everyone in the Playcare that I walked past stared at me hard. I tried my best to ignore their glances at myself. I didn’t think that I looked that bad, but when I went into the restroom, I saw how wet my clothes looked, even though I did my best to dry myself. My hair looked a little rough as well. No way was I going to work looking like this; I needed to go back home fast and shower. I exited the bathroom and saw Sarah, CatNaps helper. I decided to talk with her first before heading home.

“Hey Sarah.” She slowly turned towards me and moved her eyes up and down my body before slowly forming a smile. “Haha, what happened to you?” “Oh, just the aftermath of washing DogDay. How did it go with CatNap?” She took out her phone, snapped a picture of me and started texting while answering my question. “It was like fine, I guess. I don’t really wash him ever, just spray him with his lavender scent.” “Okay...well hey when you see him tell him I want an apology for what happened earlier.” I couldn’t tell if she was listening to me or not because she just continued to text on her phone. “Yeah, sure.” I rolled my eyes and started to head over to the cable car before saying something else to her. “Oh, and could you please tell DogDay that I’ll be back later? I gotta go home quick.” “Sure whatever.” I’m not sure how she got hired but I needed to hurry home before Playcare opened.

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I hurried home and threw the wet clothes into the washer and showered. The warm water felt nice, and I no longer felt cold. I finished showering and threw my clothes into the dryer. I had until the dryer stop to redo my hair, should be enough time. The dryer stopped just as I finished my hair. I went to take out the clothes and they were nice and warm. I got dressed and was about to head out before I realized something. I was supposed to smell like DogDay, but I didn’t have vanilla scented softener or soap. Crap. I didn’t want to get in trouble for not having a scent on me, so I decided to use strawberry poundcake perfume. I grabbed my nametag and headband and quickly headed out the door.

---------------

“Wait don’t leave!” I called out but it was too late. The cable car doors had shut and started moving down to Playcare. I groaned in frustration. It took at least sixteen minutes in total for the cable car to go down and come back up. I looked at my phone and saw that I had five minutes to get down into Playcare. I had no choice, I had to take the stairs down. I sighed and quickly headed towards the stairs.

I underestimated how many stairs there were to get down. I saw how many flights of stairs I had to take. It looked like at least eighteen flights. “Oh boy.” I started making my way down the stairs as fast as I could. The whole time I went down I kept hoping that I wouldn’t fall. Today was just not my day. I was on the last few sets of stairs when I somehow missed a step and fell down a set of stairs. I hated today. The fall didn’t hurt really but I did feel sore. I groaned and slowly got back up and decided to take the last two sets step by step.

---------------

I opened the door that led into Playcare and saw that the lights had turned on. Time for the kids to wake up. I walked over to the Home Sweet Home building, in need of some pain medication. I was about to walk into the building but got scooped up by DogDay. “Angel! You’re back!” He hugged me a held me tightly. “H-hey DogDay!” My body was in a little pain so a hug from someone strong was not feeling the best. DogDay set me down and sniffed into the air. “Hm, I’m smelling something new.” He continued to smell the air and then leaned down and started sniffing me. I hope he wouldn’t be upset that I wasn’t in ‘full uniform.’ “Angel, you smell good! What scent are you wearing?” “It’s called ‘Strawberry Poundcake.’ When I went home and washed my clothes, I forgot that it’s supposed to smell like you, so I just sprayed my perfume.” “I love it!” Good, my boss wasn’t upset with me.

DogDay asked why I was heading into Home Sweet Home, and I told him what happened, and he started to inspect my body. “Are you okay? Did you get a bruise? You’re not bleeding are you?!” I couldn’t help but smile at him. He was a good friend for being so concerned. I took his paws, held them in my hands, and looked up at him. “I’m okay, my body just feels a bit sore so I was going to see if I could get some pills for the pain.” DogDay sighed in relief and told me how to get to the infirmary. “When you’re done in there head over to the school, that’s where we’ll be at today.” I nodded and went inside Home Sweet Home.

---------------

I got some medicine and started walking towards the school. In the corner of my eye, I saw Damian outside drawing with chalk with CraftyCorn. I walked over to both of them and said hello. “Hey Ms. Y/N.” Damian spoke out. CraftyCorn just shyly waved hi to me. Her voice box was having problems, so they took it out to fix it. “Whatcha doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside with me and DogDay?” “Yeah, but I did well on an assignment, so Miss Delight gave me a pass to miss the first ten minutes of class. CraftyCorn will keep an eye on me.” He went back to drawing and CraftyCorn gave me a look that said, ‘He’s in good hands.’ “Okay well I guess I’ll see you inside in a bit.” He nodded and continued to draw as I headed inside.

I found DogDay and he grabbed my hand and led me into the classroom. “Why hello there Y/N! DodDay here has told me so much about you!” The teacher who I’m guessing was Miss Delight spoke so cheerfully to me. She looked like a tall Barbie doll. “Nice to finally meet you Miss Delight. DogDay has also told me a lot about you.” She shook my hand and then turned to face the class. She clapped her hands to get the children's attention. “Alright class listen up! We have a new person joining us here today so please give a warm welcome to Miss Y/N.” In unison the kids said, “Hi Angel!” Miss Delight stared at them in confusion but me and DogDay laughed.

---------------

Me and DogDay sat in the back of the classroom while we watched Miss Delight teach the kids about multiplication. The door to the classroom opened and in walked Damian. CraftyCorn was right behind him and stood in the doorway. “Ah welcome Damian! Thank you for looking after him Crafty!” CraftyCorn nodded and smiled before closing the door and walking away. Damian took his seat at the front and Miss Delight continued with her lecture.

---------------

The bell rang and it was now lunchtime. The kids lined up and DogDay and I led them to the cafeteria. “You feel better Angel?” “Yes, I am thanks for asking.” DogDay smiled and we continued to lead the children into the cafeteria.

As we entered the cafeteria, I spotted KickenChicken. He started walking towards us but then DogDay picked me up and started heading out of the room. “C’mon Angel let’s get some fresh air, plus there’s something I need to tell you.” I didn’t argue with him and let him carry me outside.

We made it outside and he sat me down and sat on his hind legs. “You know the little girl wearing the overalls today? Her name is Darla, and I was told that today is her last day here in Playcare.” When DogDay spoke, he sounded a little upset. “That’s good, isn’t it?” “Oh yes, it is Angel, but it always makes me sad when someone from my group gets adopted.” That’s understandable. He’s been with them forever and now they get to leave, and he stays here, forever. “Well, I say you go back inside and spend as much time with her as you can today, and we’ll worry about her leaving tomorrow. I don’t want to see you sad right now, especially since you’re with your Angel.”

I laughed playfully and DogDays ears perked up. “Haha. You’re right. No need to feel sad when I’m with you.” We looked at each other smiling before DogDay cleared his throat and stood up. “Wanna head back in?” “In a moment, just need to re tie my shoes.” DogDay nodded before saying “Don’t be too long Angel!” and he went back inside the school. My face felt a little warm when he said that. I might need to get my temperature checked later. I tied up my shoes and got up to head back inside before I spotted the drawing that Damian did. It was DogDay, me and him all holding hands. Above us was the word ‘My Family.’

A/N: Next part will include more of DogDay and you talking. Thank you for the comments in the last part!!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3

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dkfile · 1 year

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forgiveness (i would redo it all if i could)

❛ sure, the joy you exhibit is at his expense, but he can’t bring himself to care. jaemin would walk on burning hot coal if you asked him to. ❜

word count | 7.0k (7,009) genre | fluff with slight angst, humour, pining, idiots 2 lovers lol ━ fratboy!jaemin

the five times jaemin begs for forgiveness apologizes — and the one time you get a taste of your own medicine.

★ warnings | vomiting, humiliation (? not really but), alcohol consumption, and characters jumping to conclusions ★ author’s note | i wrote this instead of studying and it initially started as a drabble but the moment i finished the first part i realized i would just have to keep going. so i did. hope u enjoy this monster ❤️‍🩹

one.

The air reeks of hard liquor. You feel it stick to your skin the moment you step inside the frat house, trailing behind Lia as she zigzags her way through the crowd and into the kitchen. She’s a creature of habit, always following a routine, so it doesn’t surprise you when her first order of business is getting the both of you a drink.

Still, the vodka does nothing to contain your nerves. Bitterly, you eye Lia from the corner of your eye as she makes chit-chat with some friends from her Psychology class; she promised this party would put you out of your misery, but you have been here for all of three minutes and your misery has yet to be put out.

You had hoped — prayed — the trashy EDM and stench of sweat mixed with booze would have a quick effect on your aching heart, that it would snap you out of the wallowing you’ve been doing for the past two days, that it would make you forget about the 25 text messages and 10 missed calls you’ve left unanswered.

But, alas, here you are.

Lia makes quick movements out of the kitchen after spotting another friend of hers, gripping your wrists as if you’re a felon and her hands are the cuffs, and this frat, with its roaring partygoers and sticky floors, was your own personal prison. She casts a brief look over her shoulder, notices your expression has yet to change from the scowl you sported the moment you stepped outside, and eyes you with apologetic pity but does not loosen her grip on your limbs.

“Lia!”

She stops, quickly hides you behind her. You’re about to bite out a response before your face falls at the sound of the greeting that falls from Lia’s lips.

“Hi, Donghyuck.”

“Lia! How have you been?”

“Mm, great,” she replies, curt, but Donghyuck waves off her behaviour. He either doesn’t care about it or is too inebriated to do so — your guess is the former.

“How’d you do on that Psych test? Question three had me fucked up.”

“Kind of like how you are right now?”

Over Lia’s shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Donghyuck’s eye roll. “Ha ha, very funny,” he says before bringing a can of beer to his face. He gives it a shake, signifying that there’s still liquid in it. “I’m still on my first can.”

“That’s nice, Hyuck,” Lia sighs. “But I have to go, I’ll talk to you later? Chaewon needs me.”

“Oh, Chaewon! I haven’t seen her in forever. Where is she?”

Donghyuck begins to scan the room as Lia says, “Over by—” his eyes land on you peeking over Lia’s shoulder, “—the beer pong table.”

The excitement on his face falters, he blinks thrice, and as if snapped out of his reverie, his grin turns smug. Lia’s voice dies down as Donghyuck glances over to where a group of frat boys, rowdy and energetic (are they fighting for the title of life of the fucking party?) while he muses, “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Y/N.”

“I saw you last Friday,” you clear your throat when you hear the hoarse scratch in your voice. “Besides, I’ve been busy.”

Sarcastically, Donghyuck says, “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing in particular,” he smiles, looking at you for a brief moment before returning his attention to his frat brothers. He makes eye contact with a boy, fading pink hair appearing orange under the lights, heavy eyelids opening fully at the sight of you. “It’s just weird, isn’t it, that I haven’t seen you since Friday?”

“Not… really?” you furrow your eyebrows. “We don’t have any classes together.”

He gives you a look. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

At the sound of quick footsteps, Lia glances to her side. At the sight of the very reason you’ve been holed up in your room the entire weekend, she tugs your wrists.

“We should go,” she says.

“Wha— why—?”

“Y/N!”

You jump far enough to release Lia’s hold on you. Donghyuck’s laugh is silenced by a stomp on his foot; the expletives he grunts at Lia goes through one of your ears and out the other — as people’s words often do when Na Jaemin enters your vicinity and punctures your comfortable little bubble.

He’s a sight for sore eyes — so, so beautiful, with his shirt half-tucked into his baggy jeans and a bajillion rings adorning his fingers. He gives you a smile laced with careful excitement, as if you are something to be cautious about, a ticking time bomb.

And suddenly, you’re transported back to Friday night, sitting in a restaurant in the fanciest getup you’ve stolen from one of your friends. Everything buzzes around you. You swear your senses have been heightened — you catch every pitiful glance, hear every sympathetic whisper, smell the desperation radiating off your chest.

Despite all of this, despite all your prayers for any sign of fortune, your phone screen stays black. Void of any texts or calls or even Instagram notifications.

The waiter, ever patient and remorseful, takes slow steps to your table. You take this as your sign to leave.

You ignore the first apology Jaemin sends eight hours later, and all the following others.

Over the noise, he shouts, “Can we talk?”

Your hands find Lia’s. “We need to go.”

Jaemin’s hands find yours. “Y/N.” He lets a drop of pathetic desperation taint his voice. “Please?”

“We have nothing to talk about,” you say.

“I’ll take five minutes.”

You don’t know what it is that gets you to give in. Maybe there’s a small part of you that wants to believe him. There’s a sliver of hope you cling to — like a child begging his parents for a new trinket while he stands in the toy section of a store — and it’s the reason for your downfall. It’s why you even said yes to him in the first place, sitting in the atrium of one of the science buildings as you both waited for the rainfall to stop.

Before you two had split ways, Jaemin had promised, “You won’t regret it.”

And yet…

Still, despite these broken agreements, you nod, allow him to take you to the porch despite Lia’s wariness and every voice in your head shouting at you not to.

He slides the glass door closed, muffling the noisiness of the party in the process. You shiver at the sudden gust of wind.

“Do you want a jacket?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Really? Mine’s only on the couch, it’s no trouble—”

“Jaemin, I’m fine,” you bite.

The venom is enough to get him to back off.

The silence that falls between the two of you only lasts a few moments. The alcohol has made Jaemin jittery and impatient, but he’s soft in the way he says, “I’m sorry.”

You huff, placing your cup of fruit punch on the porch. “What for?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well... isn’t it obvious?”

You tilt your head, leaning over the railing as Jaemin centres his hip against it. He faces you, drenched in remorse, and you face away, engulfed in humiliation.

“I guess it is. But I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there on Friday,” he murmurs. In the corner of your eye, you see him inch closer, and your skin begins to tingle at the sensation — but then, with words sharpened with knives, he adds, “I’m sorry for standing you up.”

Shame washes over you like a pail of cold water on a hot summer’s day. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself, for him to admit it. But that doesn’t stop it from hurting any less.

“Okay.”

“Y/N,” he almost pleads. His hands twitch at his sides, begging to touch your shoulder, your face, your hands, anything. The vodka doesn’t mix well with his regret and he thinks he might vomit if he doesn’t find something to anchor himself back to Earth. The railing isn’t enough — he needs you.

But he has enough self-control to back off. He hurt you, he shouldn’t be allowed to touch you.

“You know, you flirted with me for four months,” you begin, voice wavering. “And I thought you were excited for the date. I mean, you looked excited.”

“I was.”

“Well, not enough to show up.”

“Y/N, come on—” he takes a step towards you, grips the railing a little harder. His stomach growls at him to stop moving. “Just let me explain. I just need a couple minutes, that’s all. And then you can decide whether you still want anything to do with me.”

You glare at him, though it’s not sharp enough to sting. “I’d rather not waste my time.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

You stare, and while you do so, he uses the free time to try and decipher your expression. Futile.

“I think we should be having this conversation while you’re sober.”

“What are you talking about? I’m completely fine!”

A glance inside. Your eyes lock with Lia’s. “Sure. But you’re slurring your words, Jaem.”

Jaem. A nickname. That’s a good sign, right?

“I can make it through a conversation,” he promises. “Really. Just trust me.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk right now,” you tell him. “It’s— it’s just better for me if we do this when you’re in your right mind, okay? So can it wait?”

And then all fight leaves his body. He supposes he can wait another day for your forgiveness. 24 more hours can’t hurt.

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

You manage a smile and give him a nod before gesturing you’re going back inside. He murmurs that he’ll see you in a bit, despite the fact that he knows you and Lia will be making your way back to the dorms the moment the glass door slides open.

As you begin to walk away, Jaemin notices that you’ve left your cup on the railing. He grabs it, “Wait—” he says, lurching forward.

Oh. He definitely shouldn’t have done that.

A loud gasp falls from your lips. Jaemin stands to his full height, eyes wide with shock as he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

You won’t look at him. You’re looking at your shoes and scrunching your nose at the rancid stench that begins to fill the night air.

Well. At least Jaemin’s stomach is feeling better.

two.

Flowers are fucking expensive.

Jaemin realizes this as soon as he leaves the flower shop Renjun works at (according to Renjun, Jaemin fucked up so bad he doesn’t even deserve a discount) but decides not to dwell on the dent in his bank account as he begins the trek to your dorm. He keeps an eye on the cloudy sky, murmuring pleas under his breath for it to not rain — the last thing he needs is for the bouquet he spent good money on to get soaked.

When he enters your building, his exhaustion replaced with nerves, he almost doesn’t notice the lively figure walking out of the elevator.

The way Liu Yangyang steps foot into the lobby, radiating all things bright and holy, is blinding. Jaemin resists the urge to flinch when Yangyang gives him a wide smile.

“Hey, Jaemin!” he greets, barely concealing his confusion at Jaemin’s suit and the big bouquet of flowers. “Do you have a date? At 10am on a Saturday?”

“Oh! No,” says Jaemin. “I’m apologizing.”

“Ah. I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“Oh, I’m not!” Jaemin corrects, plastering an embarrassed smile. “But, uh, I fucked up, so… it’s the least I could do. And, well, I wanted to do this, so—”

“Still. A bouquet this big is expensive,” Yangyang quirks an eyebrow, plucking the card out of the large array of flowers. His eyes scan the paper. And then again. And again. Jaemin wonders if Renjun’s pulled a prank on him and wrote something ghastly on it.

When Yangyang finally looks up, glancing from the card to the elevator, Jaemin asks, “What? What’s wrong? What does the card say? Fuck, did Renjun do something? I’m gonna kill—”

“No, the card’s fine,” Yangyang snorts, placing it back where he found it. “It’s just... you’re the guy, huh?”

“Sorry?”

“The one that stood Y/N up? The one that they were complaining about when I dropped by this morning?”

There is so much to unpack here. However, Jaemin can only manage a flabbergasted, “Wait, what?”

Yangyang laughs, gives Jaemin a pat on the back, then bids him a goodbye. He’s left the building before Jaemin can even think of a follow-up question, leaving him standing alone in the lobby, dress shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, hair swept up from the wind, and his right hand limply gripping the flowers — the perfect picture of disaster.

It takes him a while to finally move, and when he does, a new unpleasant feeling sinks in his chest.

But then you open the door, and momentarily, the feeling disappears.

“Hi,” he says with a gentle smile. With two hands, he presents you with the bouquet, which you carefully take, eyes sparkling in awe.

You absentmindedly step to the side to let him in while your fingers carefully brush the flowers. “Jaemin, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I did,” he argues with no malice. He slips off his shoes and follows you to your desk, watching as you place the flowers in a vase, “so you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

He sees you roll your eyes. Still, you say, “Thank you.”

He beams. “You’re welcome.”

You lean against the back of your chair, folding your arms over your chest. Jaemin tries not to let your sudden indifference affect him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Sorry I threw up all over you last night,” he winces.

You wave him off. “It’s fine. Those shoes were worn out, anyway. I was looking for a reason to throw them out.”

“I’m sorry for Friday too.”

Jaemin notices you cave yourself in. Your gaze has hardened and the tension has made you stiff. Something much more painful than guilt sinks its claws into his beating heart.

He thinks, even if he were bleeding apologies, that it still wouldn’t be enough to deserve your forgiveness.

“It’s okay,” you shrug. “We’re fine now.”

“Okay… But are you sure?”

You blink.

Jaemin continues, “I really want to make it up to you.”

You move to lay against the headboard of your bed, playing with the controls of your alarm clock to avoid eye contact. “And you have.”

“I have?”

You take one long look at him, raise an eyebrow at the state of his outfit, before commenting — with your amusement thinly veiled behind the lingering hurt, “Oh, definitely.”

Everything in Jaemin malfunctions at the sound of your voice. The familiar mellow glee shakes him to his core. He leans against your desk chair, refusing to break eye contact despite your determination to not look at him for longer than five seconds.

He kicks the foot of your bed. Not hard enough to scare you, but enough to glance at him in annoyance. “I’m being serious,” he says. “I’ll humiliate myself if I have to. Do you want me to beg for forgiveness in front of everybody? I’ll do it. I can do it by the fountain at the centre of campus, or maybe the cafeteria. Or maybe at the next party—!”

“Jaemin.”

“I can do it at the coffee shop. Not the one near here, but the artsy one. I'm guaranteed to get a lot of judgemental stares there.”

“Jaemin,” you interrupt. You’re staring at him now, the alarm clock long forgotten. “You don’t need to do any of that. I mean, would it be funny? Yeah, definitely. But I want an explanation more than anything. That’s what you promised me last night, anyway — if you remember.”

Jaemin tries his best not to wince. He’d love to tell you the truth, really, but when he had relayed what happened to Renjun, he was met with a slap on the back of his head and different variations of “This is really embarrassing for you, man.” Last night, he was more than happy to explain the reason for his absence on Friday, but that was because there was alcohol in his system.

Could Jaemin humiliate himself in front of strangers and his friends? Sure, no problem. But you were a completely different story.

Every move he’s made, every decision he’s followed through, has been to impress you. He doesn’t know what he would do if he ever blew that up.

“Oh. Okay, well, you see…” Jaemin begins sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “That’s a funny story.”

You frown. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, Jaemin, but I don’t really wanna waste my time listening to excuses.” You turn to your side, taking interest in the alarm clock again as you grumble under your breath, “I’ve done enough of that already.”

The speed at which desperation consumes him is worrying. One minute he’s standing near your desk, the next he’s crouching to enter your field of vision. He’s next to your bedside table now, eyebrows furrowed and about two minutes away from begging.

“Okay, okay, no, you’re right,” he gulps. “Okay. It’s really embarrassing, though. It wasn’t my best moment.”

You don’t answer, instead giving him a look that urges him to continue.

“It’s dumb, alright, so don’t laugh,” he inhales. “A few hours before our date I went to the gym with Hyuck—” (Donghyuck had convinced him doing so would make him look so much better for the date) “—and I was exhausted. So, when we got back I… I fell asleep.”

“...What?”

“I took a nap,” he grumbles, more upset at himself than at your disbelief. “I was so tired and I didn’t want to go out with you if I was out of it, so I went to bed, and I thought I set an alarm for myself, but… I guess I didn’t. Next thing you know, I’m waking up at 1am, completely out of it, until Renjun barges into my room asking me how everything went.”

You stare blankly. “You… you fell asleep.”

He grimaces. He prepares himself for the brunt of your rage. It’s what he thinks he deserves — missing something he’s been wanting for months, looking forward to for days, all because he took a nap? He swears on heaven and Earth that he’s more mad at himself than you are at him.

But then you laugh.

It starts off as an incredulous snort before you start laughing in his face. And once he’s gotten over his initial shock at your reaction, Jaemin cracks a smile. Mostly because this is the first time he’s seen you happy since last week. He underestimated how much he missed all of this — sure, the joy you exhibit is at his expense, but he can’t bring himself to care. Jaemin would walk on burning hot coal if you asked him to.

Raindrops begin to land on your window as the sky becomes darker. Jaemin should be dreading the moment he has to step outside and walk back to the frat.

(But…)

“You’re not lying?” you guffaw. “You’re completely serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Jaemin deadpans.

You burst into another fit of giggles.

(He thinks the sight of your smile just made his entire week.)

(He says so to Donghyuck when he gets home and is asked why he’s soaking wet and giddy. To which Donghyuck replies with a roll of his eyes and, “Jaemin, you are so fucking whipped.”)

three.

There are many things Donghyuck has seen Jaemin do in the name of love.

But this? This is definitely going at the top of the list of the worst things he’s ever done.

The act itself is mild. If Donghyuck was told about this then he wouldn’t even consider putting this in the top 10. But he isn’t the recipient of a storytime. Instead, he’s with Jaemin, standing with him at a supermarket thirty minutes after closing in his Kuromi pajamas.

Tonight, Jaemin isn’t only embarrassing himself, but he’s dragging Donghyuck along with him.

“Please,” Jaemin begs the tired employee on the other side of the locked doors. “I just need one thing.”

The employee locks eyes with Donghyuck. Donghyuck wants to crawl into a hole and die.

The catalyst of this impromptu trip to the grocery store is you. More specifically, what you posted on your close friends story. You had been baking but realized you don’t have any more baking soda, so Jaemin took it upon himself to drive to the store and get some for you.

You didn’t even ask him to.

“Don’t we have baking soda at home?” Donghyuck hisses under his breath, grabbing Jaemin’s elbow while the 16-year-old employee explains for the nth time, “No, sir, I can’t unlock this door. Like, I literally can’t. I don’t have the code.”

“No,” Jaemin snatches his elbow back. Donghyuck wonders how they both look, standing in their matching Melody and Kuromi pajamas in the middle of the night. “Jeno and Mark used all of it up, remember? For some bake sale.”

“I think they were raising money for the frat, Jaemin.”

“Oh, fuck the frat.”

Donghyuck snorts. “Dude.”

“What?”

Donghyuck throws his arms up in defence before tugging Jaemin towards the parking lot. He waves apologetically to the employee, who only shakes her head in response, and ignores Jaemin’s whining and thrashing as they make their way to his car.

“Okay,” Donghyuck says firmly, crossing his arms. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure. It’s not like you’ve been moody for the past few days or anything.”

Jaemin throws him an irritated look. Then he runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Sorry.”

Donghyuck waves a hand of dismissal. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I fucked up big time,” Jaemin sighs. “With Y/N.”

“Again?”

“What? No! Do you have no faith in me?” At Donghyuck’s silence, Jaemin kicks his shoe. “No, it’s just… I don’t know. I have no idea what it’s gonna take for them to give me another chance.”

“Didn’t they forgive you already?”

“Yeah, but… you know.”

He doesn’t. You and Donghyuck are more so acquaintances than friends, but even if that wasn’t the case, he thinks nobody in this world could ever know you as well as Jaemin does.

Plus, he’s pretty sure Jaemin’s just making excuses not to put himself out there again.

So, Donghyuck asks, “Have you asked them out again?”

“Well…”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t understand!” Jaemin groans. “I’m scared!”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and starts typing a number into his phone. Jaemin is too busy listing off reasons on why you’d reject him to notice, and only stops his rambling when a groggy voice echoes off the speakerphone.

“Hello?”

Jaemin blinks, confused. “Y/N?”

“Jaemin?” you say, suddenly awake. Donghyuck places his phone in Jaemin’s hands and enters the car to give you two some privacy. “Why are you calling me from Hyuck’s phone?”

“Oh, I…” Jaemin starts, “My phone’s dead.”

“Oh,” you say. Jaemin presses the phone to his ear and closes his eyes as he leans against the hood of the car. “Why’d you call?”

“I, uh…” Jaemin murmurs, “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

If he was being honest, Jaemin’s surprised you forgave him so quickly. He thought he would have to grovel a little more, suffer for a few more days, before you finally flashed him a smile and a murmur of “It’s okay.” He asked you about this last night, his curiosity peaking past midnight with the only source of light in his bedroom being the blue light from his phone.

From: Y/N

I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever lied to me?

Unless you did. If you did, you are so done for, Jaem.

To: Y/N

I didn’t! I swear to God I didn’t

From: Y/N

Yeah, I figured

I’m messing with you lol

I trust you

Maybe this means he has a chance. He considers shooting his shot right then and there, but then he glances at the sky, figures now is not the right time. You deserve so much more than a hesitant question whispered into his best friend’s phone, the stars hidden behind a large blanket of clouds.

“I… I couldn’t get you the baking soda.”

A pause. “Oh?”

“Yeah. The store’s closed.”

“Oh,” you whisper with a little more understanding. Softly, you reply, “That’s okay, Jaem.”

four.

For the past few days, Jaemin’s hands have been finding you.

It’s in gentle touches. He pats your shoulder before bidding goodbye, picks off a piece of lint in your hair before flicking it away, brushes your skin with his every time he gives you a gift. Every touch is accompanied with a smile — lambent albeit unsure — and every smile is accompanied with a soft call of your name.

The next time he touches you is when he hands you a bag. It isn’t heavy, but when you peek inside, you frown.

“What is this?” you ask.

He flashes you his signature grin. “What does it look like? They’re shoes.”

His retort is met with silence. Jaemin is left to listen to the bustling of the hallway as you stare at the relatively new sneakers he’s handed you. His grin wavers, ever so slightly, though it really shouldn’t matter because it goes unnoticed.

“I can see that,” you mutter. “But why?”

“Consider it an apology. It’s the least I could do after I… you know…”

“Threw up on me?”

Jaemin huffs. “Yeah.”

You clear your throat, pushing the shoes into his chest. “I don’t think I should take this.”

“What? Why not?”

You shrug, resting the handles of the grey plastic bag on his fingertips before walking around him to head to the exit. He’s quick to follow, barely dodging lingering professors and boisterous students that obscure his path. You don’t bother to slow down, eyeing the time on your wrist with a frown. Fuck, you were supposed to be at the mall five minutes ago.

You glance over your shoulder to see if Jaemin’s still lagging behind you. “It’s nice and all, but I don’t think you ruining my sneakers meant you had to buy me new ones as an apology.”

“I disagree. Besides, I didn’t even buy them! I stole them—!” You halt, causing Jaemin to crash into you. The both of you stagger, struggling to regain your composure. He coughs, muttering an apology before adding, “—from Renjun’s closet.”

“What the hell!” you exclaim. “Why didn’t you say that sooner! I thought you were a felon.”

Jaemin gasps incredulously, ignoring the odd gazes thrown in his direction. “How dare you. You know I don’t have the mental capacity to plan a successful heist. Too tiring,” he tilts his head, “You gotta admit, though, I’d look very good on a wanted poster.”

Silence. You continue walking to the student parking lot.

Another gasp, and then— “Hey, wait, don’t just walk away. Are you disagreeing with me?” An overdramatic whine falls from Jaemin’s lips. You are no match for your own mirth. It doesn’t waver, no matter how much you try to fight the smile that threatens to split your face apart. “Are you calling me ugly?”

“Way to jump to conclusions,” you quip.

His hand clasps around yours, stopping your movements. “You’re not denying it!”

A laugh, caged too long in your chest, escapes. It dances in the air, free. “You’re definitely not ugly, Jaemin. The very opposite, actually,” you pause, “But no matter how much you pout and whine, I will not be taking these shoes.”

“But I stole them just for you!”

(A passerby mutters a “What?” to her friend).

“Yes, it’s very Robin Hood of you to do this for me,” you agree, briefly placing two hands on his cheeks and ignoring the way his skin begins to warm. “But what if Renjun finds out? You know he scares me!”

“Pfft. Renjun would never hurt you.”

Your hands fall from his face and back to your sides. He immediately craves your touch again, even though he’s certain it’ll burn his skin. “I’m not taking these. But thank you,” you give him a smile, a much tamer one this time, but it makes his heart stutter all the same. “Really, Jaemin. I appreciate it.”

I appreciate you, you almost say. From the way Jaemin’s eyes flicker to your lips, you wonder if he knows you almost did.

“I—”

“Y/N! You slowpoke! Hurry up!”

Jaemin snaps his head to the direction of the voice. His lips part at the sight of Yangyang trudging across the quad, hands tucked into his pockets. Despite Yangyang’s impatient words, he’s grinning.

What’s worse, Jaemin thinks, is that you are, too.

You give Jaemin one last look before waving. Before you leave, you promise something. He isn’t quite sure what — maybe you’ll text him tonight, see him tomorrow, email him the answers to the Chemistry practice tests later. Nothing you say can sway Jaemin’s focus from Yangyang’s arm, resting on your shoulder as he drags you towards his car.

A hand reaches into Jaemin’s chest, squeezes his heart.

He tries not to think too much of it.

five.

There are three things needed to spark a wildfire. Oxygen, fuel, and ignition.

Jaemin finds himself in an unfamiliar apartment on Saturday night, glued to Renjun’s side, as his friend drifts across the space like a butterfly soaring through the sky. Tonight is supposed to be carefree, a distraction from looming final exams, but Jaemin can’t help but feel a heavy weight in his pockets. His texts, sent 12 hours ago, are yet to be met with a response, and he’s getting fidgety. So much so that it’s hindering his chance of a good time.

Renjun tries his best to ignore him but all attempts end up futile. Once an acquaintance excuses himself to go to the restroom, Renjun nudges Jaemin and hisses (although he does it in a way that comes off as benign), “Can you stop acting like you’ve got ants crawling up your ass? Y/N will get back to you soon enough. Maybe they’re busy.”

Jaemin sighs, clenches his fist, then nods. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

Renjun looks at him sympathetically. “It’s okay. Just don’t stress.”

He manages to distract himself for a couple more minutes, engaging in conversations despite his dying social battery, and plasters a smile that he hopes Renjun deems decent enough.

This get-together is far different from any of the parties the frat has thrown, but its unfamiliarity tames the waves of worry clouding Jaemin’s brain, if only for a moment.

Everything in him comes alive, though, when the door swings open and a call of your name hangs in the air.

He’s plunged into a pool of relief at the sight of you. It’s almost as if the air has been knocked out of his lungs.

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

Oxygen.

He lazily mutters an excuse to Renjun and another acquaintance before walking towards the door. This conversation is the least of his worries especially when you’re standing in the doorway, radiant as ever.

When you spot him, he swears your eyes light up.

“Hey!” you greet, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Renjun dragged me here,” Jaemin tries his best to appear nonchalant, though the only person he appears to be fooling is himself, “he said I needed a change of scenery.”

“Well, I’m glad he did.”

Something akin to hope settles in the pit of his stomach. “You are?”

You hum. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love these get-togethers, but you make things a little more memorable.”

He grins. He can’t help it. “Just a little?”

“Alright,” you snort. “Don’t push it.”

A buzz. You take your phone out and, at the sight of the notification, your mood dampens — only slightly, but Jaemin notices nonetheless.

“Oh, by the way, did you get my texts?”

“Huh?” you glance up. “Oh. Maybe? Sorry, I’ve been so out of it. You would not believe the day I’ve had.”

“Ah. And here I thought you were ignoring me,” he says it in a way that’s insouciant, but you don’t miss the tension slowly easing out of his shoulders.

“I would never.”

“I mean, you did a few weeks ago.”

You hit his arm playfully. “Okay, well, you deserved that.” You tuck your phone back into your pocket. “I’m really sorry, though. I didn’t mean to screen you. What’d you send, anyway?”

“Nothing important,” he says. Really, it had just been a couple tweets he thought you would find funny. “How was your day?”

Before you can respond, someone enters, heaving. Yangyang, dressed head to toe in black, huffs out a breath as he slips off his dress shoes. He walks over to you, almost slipping when his socked feet meet tile, but he manages to save himself as he hands you a wallet.

Something feels off.

Fuel.

“Holy fuck,” Yangyang exhales tiredly. “You would not believe the kind of shit I had to go through to get that back. You owe me big time— oh! Hey, Jaemin!”

“Hi,” Jaemin replies, eyes flickering between you and Yangyang. It’s at that moment he clocks that the two of you are matching, both in flushed cheeks and attire. Suddenly, Jaemin feels underdressed in his grey hoodie and light-washed jeans. “Uh, you guys look nice.”

“Oh, thanks!” says Yangyang. Then he scans the other people in the apartment. “Wait, what the hell? I thought Lia said to dress formally!”

He gives neither you nor Jaemin time to reply. He’s already off, mingling with others as he hunts Lia down, presumably to question her about the dress code, leaving you and Jaemin in the dust.

You don’t say anything in Yangyang’s absence, so Jaemin decides he’ll bite.

“Why did he have your wallet?”

Your mood has changed. You scratch your neck nervously and give him a smile he can’t quite decipher. This one is different than the usual ones you give him. Is it— tinted with shame?

“Oh,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. Slowly but surely, the tension that was once in Jaemin’s body enters yours. “Funny story.”

Jaemin tries his best to sound lighthearted. “From the way you look it doesn’t seem like a funny story.”

“Got me there,” you chuckle, devoid of hilarity. “It’s— well, I was on a date—”

Oh. That’s why you never responded to him.

Yangyang, always impeccable with his timing, appears in Jaemin’s line of sight again. He isn’t quite sure what Yangyang says — something about the dress code, he assumes. But what he is sure of is Yangyang’s hand around your wrist, dragging you deep into the crevices of the apartment, away from Jaemin.

It all makes sense now. Yangyang dropping by your apartment, Yangyang’s arm over your shoulder, Yangyang arriving the same time as you at a gathering Jaemin didn’t even want to be at.

Any and all hope flies out the window, dissolving in the acidity of his heartbreak.

He pulls out his phone, texts you again, only this one is more formal than the rest.

To: Y/N

Had to go. Sorry we couldn’t talk more. I’ll see you.

He waits a couple minutes but never receives a reply.

Ignition.

Everything in him begins to burn.

one.

It rains on Sunday.

Jaemin finds himself sitting just under the lip of the roof, watching as rainfall creates puddles in the miniature pits in the backyard. The humidity allows for sweat to adhere his clothes to his skin; it’s an unpleasant feeling, one he’s too lazy to fix by getting up and going back inside, so he’s grateful for the sudden breeze that causes him to shiver.

A jacket is suddenly draped over his shoulders. A figure takes a seat beside him.

“What are you doing out here?”

Your presence only adds to the warmth he’s already feeling.

“Oh, you know…” Jaemin murmurs as you make yourself comfortable on the porch, “wallowing.”

“Ah,” you hum. “As one does.”

“As one does,” he repeats.

You let a few raindrops land on your shoes before you ask, “Am I allowed to ask why?”

He kicks a pebble under his feet. “I don’t know. I just feel weird, I guess? I can’t explain it.”

Lie. He knows exactly why he feels under the weather, and from the way your eyes don’t leave his face, you know he’s lying, too.

“Do you feel better than you did yesterday?”

“Hm?”

“Renjun let me in,” you explain, “I asked him what happened to you last night and he said you just weren’t feeling it, so…”

He nods slowly. “Oh! Uh — yeah. Yeah.”

He clears his throat awkwardly. In the corner of his eye, he sees you raise an eyebrow and turn your head towards the backyard, watching as the rain becomes more aggressive, rapidly pattering against any surface it finds, staining the trees and the ground and the wood of the porch.

Inside, he can hear soft murmurs between his frat brothers. There is the occasional laugh and loud outburst, and it tugs on his heartstrings. It’s much happier inside than it is out here — here, Jaemin’s sulking and brokenhearted and you’re next to him, hiding under the blanket of his heartache.

“How’s Yangyang?” he questions before he can stop himself.

You try your best to hide your surprise. “Uh, he’s fine? I haven’t spoken to him at all today.”

“And your date?”

Your eyes light up. Game over, Jaemin thinks as you turn your body to face him, excitement making the rain falter. “Oh, yeah, I was gonna tell you about it last night!” Jaemin sucks in a breath, “It was awful.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Yeah, remind me to never listen to Yangyang ever again,” you snicker with a shake of your head. “He’d been bothering me for months about how I’m, apparently, chronically single. And he thought the only way to fix that was to set me up with a stranger from his Microbio class.”

Jaemin’s moved to look at you dead in the eye now, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to process all the information you’ve just spewed out. “Wait, I’m sorry, what?”

You misinterpret his confusion for incredulity. “Right! But I went along with it, which I really shouldn’t have — I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you about it before I went, but it completely slipped my mind. I guess karma got me back, though, ‘cause the guy was terrible — he was so boring, Jaem. So I went to the bathroom to text Yangyang to pick me up, but I was stupid enough to leave my bag at the table. The guy stole my fucking wallet, so I had to—”

“Wait,” Jaemin interrupts, jaw slack. “So you weren’t on a date with Yangyang?”

You scrunch your nose up in disgust. “No. What?”

Jaemin doesn’t reply.

“Jaemin—”

“Never mind.”

You stare at him as he repositions himself to face the backyard again. The both of you hear more clamor in the kitchen, but it’s all drowned out by the laugh that escapes your mouth.

He lasts about ten seconds avoiding your eye contact — at the sound of your amusement, Jaemin whips his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, covering your mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s not — okay, well, it’s a little funny.”

“Alright, I get it,” Jaemin grumbles, though he softens when you lean on his shoulder for support.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Jaemin shrugs the shoulder you’re not leaning against. “You two were always together, and then you guys showed up at the party at the same time wearing matching outfits, so my mind was like—”

“‘Yangyang and Y/N are dating. Only explanation,’” you finish for him with a snort. “That was just a coincidence. Yangyang and I are friends, Jaemin. I thought you, of all people, would assume that.”

He nudges you. “What’s that mean?”

You nudge him back. “I mean, I thought it was already established that I like you.”

At his silence, you click your tongue.

“I wouldn’t have said yes to a date with you if I didn’t like you, Jaemin.”

“Yeah, but…” he huffs, eyeing the clouds as the raindrops become infrequent and the sky turns a little brighter. “I thought you would’ve given up on me.”

You place a hand over your heart, frowning. “Wow. You think that low of me?”

“No, absolutely not—!”

You squeeze his shoulder with a gentle smile. “Jaemin, I was joking.”

Jaemin sighs in relief, leaning into your touch. “I’m gonna make up for that date, you know.”

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you assure him, “You already have.”

“No, not with flowers and stolen shoes — with dinner,” he pauses, turning his face to meet your eyes. As the sky grows lighter, the red on his cheeks becomes more evident, “if you’ll let me.”

“Will you actually show up this time?” you ask, teasing.

He laughs with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll be there before you even show up.”

When you leave the frat house that night, swollen lips and sweat prickling at your skin, you bump into Lia on her way to class. She asks suspiciously why you’re grinning like a madman — there is no reason for anybody to be smiling this much when it’s this humid outside.

At the mention of Jaemin’s name, Lia softens in understanding. She pats your cheek the same way a mother would nurture her child before saying, “I swear that boy is gonna be the death of you.”

You shrug. You can’t bring yourself to care.

#na jaemin #jaemin #nct #nct dream #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #na jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #jaemin imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #fic: forgiveness (i would redo it all if i could)

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

unforgettable - c.sainz

masterlist

requested: y

pairings: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol + time jump + established relationship

a/n: slightly inspired by the song unforgettable by Thomas Rhett ☺️ the song is linked below 👇

“do you remember the night we met?” you ask watching your husband, carlos, shovel food into his mouth from across the dinning room table.

it’s hard for him to forget he remembers every detail of that one night in Monte Carlo because it changed everything.

“how can I forget, amor.” he says, mouth full of food, you reach across the table wiping a piece stuck on his chin. the night was a haze for you, only able to remember the Spanish man across the run down bar in a red polo shirt. you could hardly remember the rest it had been so long ago.

“tell me how it happened.” you rest your chin in the palm of your hand watching the fork fall out of his hand as he takes a sip of water to prepare himself.

“hmm well I was with Charles…”

— THAT NIGHT —

it’s pouring rain in Monaco, the streets are flooded, and you were doing anything you could to avoid the harsh droplets from ruining your outfit.

it had been a long week of work that deserved a drink or two, and your friends and coworkers couldn’t have agreed more to celebrate one week down, and more to come. you all met up at a bar with door hinges that barely held together, old chalkboard sign, and a half lit up neon one. you were sure this place had horrible google reviews, but despite the run down appearance, inside was perfectly normal.

you enter inside brushing the rain off your jacket and immediately spotted the table far in the back with your friends who were waving you over. you weaved your way through business men and other tired workers, to your group and took the empty seat at the end of the table.

“it’s raining like crazy out there.” you allow the shivers to run through your body before ordering a drink and turn back to the group in front of you.

“I was a little surprised by the place, the outside is awful.” your friend jokes, her head swiveling in all directions taking in the new tile floors, dim lights, perfectly clean bar, and quite a crowd for the 5pm rush hour on a Friday.

“next time we go out, we go to a bar with five star reviews.” you chuckle taking the drink from the server.

the glass handed to you was dirty, and the rim of your drink had a lipstick stain, “I’m going to order another drink this glass isn’t clean.” you get up from your seat at the table and head to the bar.

you’re careful to not spill the drink that was almost full to the rim, and just as you were almost to the end of the bar, a bright red shirt was suddenly in your field of vision. lucky enough for him and you, you swerved around just in time to avoid a spill. he hadn’t even noticed you he was to into his conversation, but his friend did.

“woah! you alright? you didn’t spill any did you?” he taps your back, and you turn around to being greeted to two men in red Ferrari polo shirts.

“yeah I’m fine, I’m just returning this so it doesn’t matter if I spill.” you nervously laugh, eyes flickering between the two of them. the one who caught your eye was much tanner, he had darker chocolate eyes, a subtle beard growing, and his brown thick hair made you want to run your fingers through it.

“yeah good luck with that, they charged me double to remake my drink.” he shook his head at how ridiculous it was. you just smile back turning on your heel carefully completing your mission towards the bar.

the bartender sighs, and before you can open your mouth he already knows why you’re here, “redo it? another one of you? I’m not remaking it.”

you’re stunned, the look on his face is stern but also annoyed, you were quick to apologize and take the drink back again, “n-never mind I’ll just drink it.”

you turn back around feeling embarrassed, but it’s that same red shirt in front of you, and when you look up he’s behind you.

“she wants her drink remade,” he takes the glass from your grip allowing the liquids to slosh all over his hand before setting it on the bar, “and a new glass this one is dirty.”

“mate, I already told her I’m not remaking it.” the bartender pushes the glass back towards him, and he pushes it back. the two go back and forth for awhile and you see he’s not giving up for you. you’re not sure why some stranger would do this, but you’re thankful.

“well that’s too bad you’re remaking it for me. and don’t talk to women like that.” he shoved the drink back a final time, other people are staring now and the bartender feels his pressure. his eyes are stern and narrow, he’s not giving up until the bartender sighed and accepts his defeat.

“you didn’t have to do that.” you say, his face relaxes turning to you, a little smile creeping on his face when he sees you’re happy despite the fight he put up.

“he didn’t need to yell at you.” he was right about that, there was no need for it, and if it wasn’t for the mystery man in a red Ferrari polo shirt you would’ve been drinking from a gross glass, “I’m carlos.”

“I’m y/n. do you like work for Ferrari?” you ask pointing to the logo on his shirt, he smiles because you have the slightest clue and he thinks it’s cute.

“something like that yeah.”

“ooh, so it’s like a secret job? do you and your friend work for the special services for Ferrari?” you lean against the bar, chin resting on your palm begging to know more.

he erupts in laughter shaking his head, “my friend is Charles leclerc, does that name ring a bell?”

you shake your head, “I don’t follow the special Ferrari services, carlos. tell me what you do!” you move closer to him. you can make out the depths of his irises and you so badly want to get lost in them. every inch of him is gorgeous.

“I drive for Ferrari. I’m in formula one.” he chuckles watching your face grow more concerned and confuse. he sees your mind is working to put some pieces together, but ultimately you fail.

“so what’s formula one?” you ask just as your drink and the check arrives, carlos signs the paper, and you both move along the edge of the bar to the two empty seats at the end.

he pulls one of the seats gesturing for you to take it, you thank him and do so while pushes it in he begins to explain his job.

you nod along, thinking you understand, but he sees right through you and just laughs into his drink. you’re not sure what’s funny to him, but his laugh is music to your ears and butterflies erupt in your stomach. was there anything about him that wasn’t attractive?

“well what do you do, y/n. do you work for the special services?” it’s his turn to lean in eager for more. he’s wrapped up in your beauty from the minute you turned around. hair brushing over your shoulders, wide beautiful eyes, and a pretty smile. he’s happy Charles nudged him in your direction at the bar.

“I can’t tell you if I do.” you give him a playful smirk, arms crossing over your chest. you’re quick to drop the cards and laugh, “no I just work a normal nine to five job. nothing like driving for Ferrari.”

“are you saying my job isn’t normal?” he pretends to be hurt, but it’s all playful and you love how he’s playing along.

“well I don’t know too many people who are in formula 1 for Ferrari!”

“okay you caught me there.” he rolls his eyes, he doesn’t want to but he has to check his watch. he can feel Charles approaching because he knows he has to leave. just as the night was getting good, he didn’t want to leave. he wanted to be with you in this dingy bar.

“let me guess, you have to leave?” you ask, frown forming on your face as you see it’s nearly nine, the crowds of people were beginning to hit the streets for a Friday night, and you were desperate to get home to get the rain and a work day off of you. you just didn’t want this night with Carlos to end.

“I’m not leaving until I get your phone number.” he’s stole the pen from the bartender and a napkin sliding it in front of you.

“oh you’re smooth, I like it.” you take the pen and scribble your number down for him. he takes the paper and shoved it in a place he knew wouldn’t get wet.

“one day you’ll find out that’s actually my nickname.” he’s standing up now, Charles is right there about to remind him of their commitments for the early morning.

“so you’re saying there’s a second time I’m going to see you?” you ask, doing the same thing you always did begging for more, resting your chin in the palm of your hand.

“of course, amor.”

— NOW —

“and I still have the napkin to this day.” he finishes proudly. you’re shocked he’s remembered so much. it was all down to the dress you wore, drink you had, and to what the bartender looked like. you’re both more than 99% sure that bar closed a year later.

“no you do not, Carlos sainz jr. you’re lying to me.” you gasp, and he quickly gets up to find his wallet. he pulls out the perfectly folded square napkin revealing your name and phone number inked into the paper.

“I can’t believe you still have this.” you’re careful to touch it making sure it doesn’t mop up anything from the table. you could cry knowing he kept this all these years.

“it was the best night of my life I had to keep it. I couldn’t forget you.” he’s got that same smile on his face that made you fall in love the first time. nothing about him has changed since then—maybe now that he had two kids and was married to you.

“well naming our kid Charles is definitely a way we can’t forget.” you say watching his nose crinkle remembering the semi heated argument he had with his Ferrari teammate. you’re not sure how he lost that battle, but Charles did have to name his kid after you.

“he said I owed him, he was going to make the move if I didn’t.”

“well I’m glad it was you. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Wild Nights || CL16 {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: You show your support for Charles and he shows his support for you. Warnings: 18+only, just Charles being himself WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

“Hurry up or you’re going to be late to your own show,” Bea urged as she tugged at your arm. “Come on, we have to go!”

You rose on your tiptoes and tried to look over the sea of people. “Just one more minute.”

“I gave you ten.”

You checked your phone again but there was no new message from Charles since his last update that he was just going to quickly shower. You had briefly seen him before the free practice, but other than a few quiet words in the back of Ferrari’s hospitality you hadn’t really spent any time with him since landing in Las Vegas.

You had thought scheduling concerts in the same city would mean seeing more of Charles but nothing was ever quite that simple.

Sighing, you sent him a message apologising for leaving without a proper goodbye and reminded him not to wait up for you. It would be late by the time you finished the show and he needed an early night before his qualifying race, but hopefully you were able to find a few minutes together in the morning before he left.

The drive through the city was long with traffic congestion and you spent most of it checking your phone to the point that Bea leaned over and ripped it from your hands.

“Hey!” you growled as she tossed it into the front seat beside the chauffeur. “I was using that.”

“No, you were distracted by it.” She grabbed a bottle of champagne from the minifridge and popped the cork. “Here, bottoms up.”

“Classy,” you murmured as you took the bottle and drank straight from it.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and took it back for a quick swig of her own. “At least I know it will get you to relax. Luckily your makeup has survived the day, there won’t be time to redo it.”

“There was a time when you said I didn’t need make up, is this you saying I’m getting ugly?”

“Pfft, bitch, please. If I thought you were ugly I would tell it to you straight, like a good friend. You’re beautiful and I’m jealous, I just thank god I have these,” she said as she grabbed her boobs for emphasis. “They kill my back, but they look damn good.”

“Forget your back, I heard they nearly killed Pierre,” you chuckled. “I think his fans would have a problem if you accidentally smothered him with those.”

“At least he would die happy and doing what he loved. Imagine that obituary.”

“I’d rather not.” Your nose wrinkled at the thought of any type of obituary for a racer, it was an all too real possibility you tried not to dwell on.

Bea agreed quietly with another drink from the bottle and cast her eyes out the window, taking in the bright lights of the strip. She nearly spit out her mouthful at the sight of an electronic billboard advertising the first Las Vegas F1 race. “Wow, they really got him again?”

You leaned over the seat and saw the ad of Charles decked out in a glittering jacket, elvis wig and pink feather boa as a deck of cards rained down. A laugh bubbled up as you took the bottle back and brought it up to your lips with a dopey smile. “He’s too sweet and trusting, a little gullible too.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she joked as the car pulled into the service entrance of the MGM. and she took the half empty bottle away. “Can’t have you drunk on opening night.”

“Can I have my phone back?”

She reached through the front and grabbed it off the seat. “Fine, but no moping like a sad sap because we have to run.”

The door to the car opened to an entourage of people chiding you for the tardiness and you were hustled through the back channels of the building, stopping briefly in a room little larger than a closet to change outfits before you reached the backstage area.

“You have five minutes,” the head coordinator warned as Bea arrived with a cup of lemon, ginger and honey tea to help warm your vocal chords.

You thanked her as you sipped the hot drink and felt your phone vibrate with a notification as Scuderia Ferrari’s Instagram went live. ‘Music Challenge’ was the caption and you waved Bea over knowing they were always entertaining.

“Oh, I love this song,” Charles exclaimed as he nodded his head along.

“You say that every time,” Carlos complained.

“Kill Bill?”

“Correct!” The interviewer confirmed as Carlos groaned and fell back into the couch in defeat.

“How do you know that?”

“I listen to a lot of music.”

They both fell silent as the next song started and they both smashed their hands on their little bells.

“Flowers,” Carlos shouted. “Flowers, flowers, I got it first.”

“You got it loudest,” Charles disputed but the moment the next song started he was jumping up and pinging his bell in time. “Y/N, Love You Need!” He turned to Carlos and blew him a kiss. “It’s my song.”

“That’s not fair, I don’t have a song.”

“I’m sure someone has written a song about you, probably not a love song though,” Charles teased before he checked his watch. “Ay, I need to go or the next song she writes about me won’t be happy either. Ciao!”

“He quit so I win, right?”

“No, no, no I didn’t quit.” Charles paused his exit to point an accusing finger back at his teammate. “You took so long fixing your hair that we started late.”

“Still, I win, because you’re leaving.”

“See this,” Charles turned to the camera, his hand still waving to his team mate, “he doesn’t care about winning, he’s just upset he wasn’t invited to Y/N’s concert. Carlos?”

Carlos batted his eyelashes with a smile. “Yes, Charles?”

“Would you like to come with me?”

Carlos was already on his feet. “I thought you would never ask.”

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Vamos, we’re late.”

You turned to Bea as the live feed ended and you shoved your phone into the storage cupboard beside the stairs leading to the stage. “Did you know he was coming?”

“Duh, who do you think set him up with a backstage pass?” She shrugged and put her own phone away along with her jacket. “I gave him a few in case he wanted to bring some friends.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You mean Pierre…”

“I mean friends, and if that happens to be Pierre then I have no problem with that.”

You didn’t have an opportunity to tease her further about the commitment issues the two of them had before a microphone was shoved into your hands and you were pointed to the stage entrance.

“Kill it babe!” Bae shouted with a thumbs up as she jogged around to the other stage entrance for her cue.

The sold out crowd was a swirling mass of energy and it swelled as you stepped into the spotlight, their screams barely blocked by the earpieces that you had pushed into your ears as you took the stairs. The rush of seeing the excitement on their faces never ceased to amaze you and you bounced on your toes eagerly.

“What’s up, Las Vegas? Are you doing alright tonight?” Their responding screams shook the stage and widened your grin. “That’s good to hear, because, for me, well, I’m Fine.”

The music started and remembered the day you started writing the song, taking off from Monaco. It had begun as a tribute to Bea and the friendship you shared but then as the weeks went by and Charles stayed in touch it had evolved. It really was a song for any sort of relationship and why it was one of your favourites after Love You Need.

“Woke up too early, Almost put salt in my coffee, Oh, I thank God that you stopped me before that.”

You grinned to the shadows where you knew Bea was waiting, having been the inspiration for the line.

“Tripped over something, Spilt it all over your front seat, Didn't even say I'm sorry about that.”

You had been so frazzled trying to clean the mess up in Charles’ ridiculously expensive car that you had forgotten to apologise at the time. You had made it up to him later, and luckily it hadn’t stained, probably credit to the expensive upholstery.

“On and on, it's just more of the same And even when you ask if I'm okay… I try to say I'm fine (I'm fine).”

The drummer came in with the heavy beat for the chorus and the hands in the crowd waved in time as Bea jumped into the spotlight for her parts. This was what made it a favourite of yours, when she grasped your hand like she had when you had broken down over your ex. She had called you on your bullshit when you said you were fine and she had been there through the worst. It made performing this with her even more special.

The entire concert was going to be even more special knowing Charles was going to be in the crowd soon and he knew exactly which songs were devoted to him.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was coming because he balanced you, and everything was equal between you. You supported him in his races whenever you could make it to them and he supported you when he could make it to yours, but you knew how tired he would have been after his day.

There were thousands of people beyond the blindly bright lights of the stage but somehow you knew where to look when you felt the energy shift halfway into the set. And there he was.

He must have changed in the car as he was no longer wearing the bold red Ferrari shirt, opting for more sedate casual clothes to blend in with the crowd. It didn’t exactly stay that way when you pointed to him during one of his songs, singing the lines solely for him and drawing the attention to him.

“Can we stay frozen in time, in between hello and goodbye?”

You collapsed onto the bed of the hotel still riding the high from the concert and Charles fell down with you, equal parts of happiness and exhaustion warring in his eyes.

“You should get some sleep,” you said as you rolled onto your side to face him so you could cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the 5 o’clock shadow along his jaw.

“I will soon,” he murmured as his arm curled over your waist and pulled you closer. “I just want to hold you for a little while.” He tucked you into the curve of his body until there wasn’t any space left between you, his cheek resting atop your head. “You make me so proud, seeing you living your dream. I wish I could be at every concert.”

“Me too,” you sighed longingly. “It’s the hardest thing when we have to say goodbye.”

His chest rose and fell slowly as he relaxed in the embrace, bordering on the edge of sleep. “You’ve never asked me not to race.”

“Why would I do that?” You pulled back to see his face and recognised the look. It was something his ex had asked of him. “Would the moon ask the sun not to rise? No, because both are equally important and their paths still cross. We are the sun and the moon.”

You felt his smile as he kissed your forehead. “Am I the moon or the sun?”

“The moon,” you stated as you tipped your head back so you could stare into those gorgeous eyes if his. “You are there to lighten my darkest nights.”

“And you make my day infinitely brighter.”

Click here for the epilogue.

Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen @im-an-overthinker @notleclerc

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #formula 1 fanfic

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straykids-97 · 7 months

Text

Blurry

Day Five of Spooky Week!

Blur the lines of conformity.

Warnings: Incubus Han/ Felix, witch reader, mxfxm, anal sex, unprotected sex, Switch! Han, Soft Dom Felix, choking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, dirty talking, hickeys, biting, lmk if I forgot anything

Word Count: 2.1k

You sink back onto your calves, frowning at your spell book. “What the hell?” You grumble as the flames of your candles start to die out. You look between the words on the page and the small sigils on the ground.

It should have worked- the words were right, and your incantations were perfect. Why didn’t anything appear? Huffing out a defeated sigh, thinking that nothing could have heard you, you stand up and clean up the summoning circle.

Your friend put you up to it anyway, trying to summon a sex demon to keep you satisfied since your sex life was… well… lacking. You made sure to tell your friend in the morning that it didn’t work and that she needed to redo her spell. You tuck your candles away in the small box they belong in and place your book back on its holder on your altar.

Puffing air through your cheeks, you leave your sanctum room and head to your bedroom. You decided to take a shower and head off to bed since you were not going to be getting any visitors anyway. You gather a set of pajamas and head to the bathroom, going in and turning the shower on. You place your clothes on the vanity and realize that there are no towels.

Huffing out an annoyed sigh, you leave the bathroom to go to your dryer on the opposite side of your house. You flip on the light in your laundry room and grab two towels from the dryer. Shutting the light off and going back to the bathroom, you pass the door to your sanctum and freeze.

The door was open.

You slowly take a few steps toward it, pushing the door open and finding nothing inside. “Hello?” You whisper, before clearing your throat. You heard something solid hit the floor behind you, causing you to yelp in shock.

Whirling around, you see an apple roll into the hallway, followed by two more, a third stopping in the doorway.

Something was in the kitchen.

You slowly creep down the hallway toward your kitchen, peeking around the corner to find your cabinets open. Just as you flipped the light on, something popped its head over the island counter. You let out a scream, the creature screaming back, dropping the bag of chips in its hand. You both stand there, staring at each other.

The man had a bare chest, an amulet of a moon resting between his collarbones. He had soft dark hair and glowing pale eyes. He giggles sheepishly, “Uh- sorry.” He gathers the chips from the floor and puts them on the counter, “I was hungry.” You stare at him as he comes around the corner, and instantly put your hand up, “Whoa- holy-” you stutter at his nakedness. “I didn’t mean to spook you. But we couldn’t find you when we came through and I was starting to get hungry.”

We? When the creature says that you instantly start looking around for the other creature who could be lurking anywhere. “We- what do you mean we?” The creature grins, revealing small sharpened canines, “We came through at the same time, so we both stayed.” He shrugged, “You’ll like him.” He winks, closing the distance. You back away, “Listen, I don’t know what you are-”

“You know exactly what I am,” he corrects, wagging his finger at you. “You summoned us. And we can’t leave until we fulfill our end of the summoning.” You take a few steps back and now you standing in the doorway of the bathroom to find a second creature.

Calling them a creature was an understatement; they appeared as men, but you knew they weren’t.

The second creature had longer dark hair, and silver earrings decorating all the way up his earlobe. He made you think of a fairy, as he turned to you, his light blue eyes also glowing slightly.

“Ah, there she is. Good job, Han.” The man spoke, his deep voice catching you off guard. The first man appeared at your side, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Thank you, Felix.”

Han dropped his arm and dragged you into the bathroom, making you stutter, “Whoa- I think we should-”

“Just shut up and fuck?” Han teased, making Felix laugh, “I think that sounds perfect.” Felix purred, coming to stand in front of you. He wrapped his hands around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. The second his lips hit yours, your mind became mush.

A second set of hands danced up your sides, pulling your shirt over your head. “Oh, nothing underneath?” Han giggled, kissing your back. You hiss, pressing into Felix who groaned, “One less thing to remove.” He held his balled fist out to Han, who bumped it with his. “You two seem to know each other?” You pant as both of them pull your pants down your thighs. “Oh, we do… Very well.” Felix chuckled, making Han join in.

“I call back,” Han says as he palms your ass cheeks. You gasp, holding onto Felix’s shoulders. “Deal.” Felix doesn’t protest as he pulls you into the shower, the warm stream soaking the three of you quickly.

Felix gropes your front while Han gropes the back. “Lift your leg.” Felix demands softly, his hand going to your thigh and holding it as Han holds your ass. Felix rubs against you, his cock running along your folds. A sharp gasp comes out of your mouth and you throw your head back onto Han’s shoulder, who wraps a hand around your throat. “This is my favorite-” Han starts to say as Felix pushes into you, a hot moan escaping both of their lips. “Shit.” Felix curses, nails biting into your skin as he sinks into your warm depths.

You tremble as Han pulls away, his cock pushing at your ass. You clutch Felix’s shoulder who’s pushing in and out of you slowly. Your mind was spinning as Han pushed into you, making you cry out. You hadn’t done this in a while- anal. And Han could tell.

He bites down on your shoulder as he starts to slowly roll his hips, Felix finding a lazy pace in tandem with Han. Your mind was reeling; fuck it felt great.

You lean forward, pushing your ass towards Han as Felix picks up his pace, holding your ass cheek. “Fuck.” You whimper, not sure where to put your hands, on Felix or on Han. Han whimpers, “Shit- Lix.” Felix chuckled huskily at his partner, “What? Can’t handle a tight little hole? You should feel her pussy.” His dirty words make your mouth fall open, earning a chuckle from Felix. Han whimpers behind you, his hips meeting your ass in quick, sharp thrusts. “Fu-fuck. Lix, you have to try this.” He moans, his sharpened nails digging into your hip.

Felix chuckles, rolling his hips into you, causing you to gasp. “Holy shit-” You didn’t realize how close you were to an orgasm until it was right there. You shudder, almost losing your footing but somehow don’t.

“Awe, already going weak in the knees?” Felix purred into your mouth as he wrapped his lips around yours. “Seems she needs an extra hand, Han.” After Han came out of his dazed orgasmic state, he bobbed his head, “Of course.” You felt Han’s hand wrap around your other thigh, lifting you completely off the floor.

Now you were completely depending on them to keep you up, Felix holding on to your front and Han holding onto your midsection and thigh. “Fuck!” You cry out, holding onto Felix but leaning into Han now as Felix chases his own high. Han bit and sucked on your neck, surly leaving lovebites all over your skin. You watch as Felix’s eyes slowly turn black, his mouth hanging open as he pounded into you. “Fuck-” You pant, a second orgasm washing over you as he groans, leaning against the wall for balance.

“Fuck- fuck.” He grunts, spilling into you and slowing to a complete stop. Han still moved behind you, moaning as he built up another orgasm. “Fuck, I’m gonna come again.” Han moaned, groping your body as he sped up. Felix’s eyes returned to normal and a salacious grin appeared on his face as his thumb began to rub circles around your clit. You gasp, jerking at the sensation, mind completely going blank as he began to fuck into you.

“Let’s come together, Han.” Felix pleaded, chuckling at Han’s whine. “Can’t- so close.” Felix growled, “You can and you will.” Han whined, grabbing onto one of your breasts as he slowed, shuddering as Felix pounded into you. You let out a loud moan, an orgasm washing over you. Tightening around Felix only urged him faster, another orgasm threatening to rip through your overspent body. “She’s getting tired, Felix.” Han panted, “We can’t keep going. We’ll hurt her.” Han reminded his partner.

“I know, but she can take one more, don’t you think?” Han chuckled darkly at Felix’s words. “I think so, can’t you baby?” You didn’t know how to respond, but you managed a single nod. “See? I told you.” Felix grinned, kissing you as his hips began to pound into yours. You let out a shrill moan as Han started fucking you harder, matching Felix’s brutal pace.

Your bathroom sounded like the filthiest porn video ever created as you became nothing but a mixture of moans and sobs as you came over and over before finally, Felix and Han came into you one last final time.

They held you as they slid out of you one at a time, helping you stand up on shaky legs. “Awe, poor baby.” Han steals a kiss on the lips, making you mewl. “Fuck,” he groans, pulling your hair. “Keep that up and we won’t leave.” You bite your lip causing Felix to chuckle, “Hole swap?”

This time, Han yanked you out of the shower, “Bedroom.” Felix trailed behind the two of you as Han pulled you into your bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You yelp, feeling Han crawl up your body. He laid on his side, slotting a leg between yours and wrapping a hand around your throat, “Someone has an appetite.” He grinned, before kissing you. Your mind spins as he rubs his cock against your pussy. You whine, holding onto his bicep as you feel Felix slip into the bed behind you.

“Good. Can’t leave her hungry, now can we?” Felix chimes in, pressing the tip of his cock against your ass. They both hold your leg up, Han entering your pussy easily from the mixture of cum that leaked out of you. You moan, Han was girthier than Felix, but Felix had length. You feel Han wrap a hand around your hair, moaning into your neck as he pounded into you.

Felix couldn’t help but chuckle, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull your head back for him to kiss you. “Poor baby, you’re gonna be so sore tomorrow… But part of me thinks you won’t care.” You bite your lip as he pushes into you, his eyes watching your face carefully. He sits still for a few moments before his hand that held up your thigh with Han went to your clit again.

You moan, trapped between the two of them again. Han is lost in the moment, eyes dark as he only cared about chasing his own high. Felix chuckled, “Poor man, he’s all pussy drunk for you.” Felix began to fuck into you, his hips starting to meet the pace that Han had set. “I feel for him.” Felix panted, nibbling your neck.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring. You start to roll toward it, but your body catches, making you yelp in pain. You groan, sliding toward your phone and turning off your alarm. Or so you thought.

It was actually your friend calling, but in your dazed state, you thought it was your alarm. You sit up, stiffly walking over to your mirror as your phone rings again. Your eyes are wide; there are bruises all over your body in the shape of their hands. Your neck was littered with lovebites on both sides, one side from Felix and the other from Han.

You stumble slightly as you go back to your phone, answering. “Hello?”

“Girl, who’d you get? Tell me it worked.”

“What do you mean?”

“The spell I gave you could have summoned any of the big 8. Tell me it worked-”

“I got two.” There was silence. “TWO?” She bellowed. “Who? Please tell me you at least got-”

“I got Felix and Han.” There was a slight beat before she went on. “Holy shit you got Han? They say his stroke game is phenomenal. And I’ve never had Felix either… But, I have heard he does give incredible head.”

“I didn’t get any. They were too occupied doing other things…”

“Fuck. I’m jealous.”

“They marked me up pretty good-” You heard a soft gasp come from your friend. “They MARKED you. Girl, they’re definitely coming back.”

Tag list: @kaitchan @artisticbirb @queenmea604 @aaasia111 @imastraykidsfan @kpopsstuffs @1dont43 @ener-energy @fawnpeaks @noodlesimp @dwaekkisses-1 @bangchans-angel

#skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #felix smut #han smut #han jisung hard hours #lee felix smut #lee felix hard hours #han jisung smut

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abbyslev · 1 year

Text

𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑬 𝑰𝑻- 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

WARNINGS: college! teacher hange x college! student reader (no underage shit), fingering, spit, panty stuffing, praise, hange eating pussy hehehe, thigh riding, EYE CONTACT, top! hange

A/N: im still fairly new to this, so any feedback will be appreciated! I hope everyone enjoys teehee. I love all of you and tysm for reading!

WC: 1k

You shut your notebook, letting out a stressful sigh of frustration.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Your partner waved at you, leaving the class. You nodded, grabbing your backpack from the floor. You hated chemistry class. If you thought high school’s chem was hard, college was harder.

What made it even worse was the stupid chem teacher. The way they gave you lingering looks, picked on you to answer knowing you weren’t paying attention, and always stuck around to help you. It made you feel humiliated, but a small part of you loved it. You liked the stinging feeling inside your stomach everytime they even breathed your way.

Today, you had to make a solution to dissolve an item. Your partner was smart, but refused to touch the chemicals. So, she wrote down everything while you tried to figure out the chemicals. You failed every time, and felt embarrassed as you could feel your Professor eyeing your table from the front of the class.

You stuffed your books in your backpack, a blush creeping up on your face as your chemistry teacher approached you. “We need to talk.” They said, You looked up at them as they pushed up their glasses. God that eyepatch made you think thoughts no one should ever have. You nodded, knowing this was about your low grade.

“Yes, Professor Zoe?” Your hands falter a bit, face red in embarrassment. “It’s Professor Hange for you.” They chuckled. They pressed their hips against the table, fingers playing with their many rings. You nodded, putting your backpack on your shoulders. “I wanted to talk about your grade in chem. I know it’s not the easiest class, but I know you can do it. I have a few options for you.” They spoke in a low tone, eyes trailing for your hands, up your chest and stopped at your eyes.

“W-what would those options be, Professor Hange?” You kept eye contact, face blushing. “Well, for one, you could just redo all the assignments and tests, and I’ll give you the higher grade.” Hange licked their lips before looking down at their veiny hands. “Or, since this is the biggest lab we have, you could come in after dinner and we could redo this lab. I could help.” They stared down at your lips, before looking back up at your conflicted face.

You hated sitting there and doing the assignments and tests, you knew you would just fail again. Plus, if you chose the second option, you would get to spend more alone time with Hange. Your stomach turned just at the thought of it.

“I’ll come in after dinner.” You nodded, smiling. “Okay. Meet me here at five, ok? The door will be unlocked.” Hange gave you a small smile before walking back to their desk. You walked out of the class, a big grin plastered on your face.

You got home, showered, styled your hair and got all dolled up.

Normally at school, sweats and a jacket would do, but you wanted to look good for Hange. You walked down the chemistry hallway, your hands toying with your phone nervously. Your heart raced with every step you took, close to Hanges classroom. It felt like the shortest walk ever.

The white door was cracked open a bit. You pushed it open, looking around the empty classroom. The lights were a bit dim and there was a quiet typing noise. “Hey! You made it.” Hange stood up. You blushed as your eyes met theirs.

Their button up shirt was tucked into their black pants, the tops buttons unbuttoned down a bit, exposing their collarbones. Their sleeves were rolled up, exposing a slither of their upper arm tattoo that stopped below their elbow. Not to mention that eyepatch that drives you insane.

“It’s all set up.” Hange walked towards the table, giving you a smirk. You put your phone in the pocket of your shorts, leaning on the table. “Okay so, if you demonstrate this correctly, I will give you a hundred for the whole semester, ok? I don’t want you to fail.” Hange stood beside you as you nodded.

“Ok, which one is the acid?” They watched as your hands grabbed the clear liquid. “That’s correct. Now add it to the blue solution. Just a third of it, not all.” Hange watched over your shoulder. “How much is a third?” You asked, a blush creeping up your neck.

“Here.” Hange grabbed your hand in theirs. Your hand felt like it was on fire and your heart was beating so fast you swore your Professor could hear it. “Like this.” Hange whispered in your ear, their body up against yours. Your hips hit the table, Hange’s other hand against your waist. You could feel all of them. Your face turned red, a small sigh leaving your lips. Hange didn’t remove their face from beside your ear.

The solution turned red. “There you go. Now add this.” Hange kept their position, handing you a packet full of powder. As you opened it, Hange’s hands were on either side of you, grasping the edge of the table. You were trapped, and you loved it. You poured the powder in the solution, watching it turn yellow. “See? You did amazing.” Hange stayed pressed against you. “Is it done?” You asked, hair falling in front of your face.

Hange turned you around, smirking. “Yes. You did well. I think you deserve more than just an A.” Hange leaned in. You looked down at their soft lips, before meeting their eyes. They were full of lust and desperation.

Hange grabbed your face, lips meeting yours. They molded perfectly against each other, shaky breaths leaving your mouth. “You did good. Such a good girl.” Hange pulled away before connecting your lips again. Their soft hands traveled down your chest, body, and stopped at your shorts.

You unbuttoned them quickly. Hange smirked, pressing small kisses on your neck as they lifted you up on the table behind them. The cold made your skin crawl. Hange pushed you back, pulling you shorts down to your ankles.

Hange let out a needy sigh, their eyes trailing down your body. They stopped at the small star tattoo on your hip, making them smile. They leaned down, their eyes looking into yours. With the tip of their tongue, they traced the tattoo, making you whimper impatiently. “Tell me what you want, princess.” They press a kiss on the small star.

“I want you to fuck me.” You breathe out. Hange, without a warning, pressed their lips against your wet clit. You threw your head back, cheeks red. They slipped their tongue through your folds, pulling back as you let out a loud moan.

They pull back, taking the rest of your shorts off. Your pink panties appear in their hand. “Open.” They take their pointer and thumb finger on your chin, opening your mouth. They stuff your panties in your mouth, licking their lips. “Be a good girl and quiet down unless you wanna get us caught.”

You nod, chest heaving up and down. Hange slipped in their middle finger, watching as your legs closed. Hange pried them open, tongue playing your bud as they added another finger in you. Your muffled moans pleasured Hange.

Their tongue worked their way around their own fingers, making your teeth clench around the lace. Hange pulled away, fingers still working you. “You’re so good for me.” She whispered against your soft skin. “So good.” Her hand slipped under your shirt, groping your chest. You held her wrist, eyes watering and drool coming down your chin.

Branding the taste of you on their tongue was now their favorite thing ever. The way you arched your back, pleading them through muffled moans to go faster. Your fingers tangled themselves around Hange’s hair, eyes rolling back. Your thighs clenched around their head, legs shaking slightly. You are so close.

Hange caught on, pulling their head away. Your movements stopped, staring as Hange stood in between your legs, lips glistening with your arousal. “You’re gonna have to earn this A, baby.” Their long fingers took the panties out of your mouth. A string of saliva hung onto the cloth. Hange kissed you, tongue against yours. You sloppily kissed back, bucking your hips for any sort of friction.

Hange picked you up, kissing your neck and you wrapped your legs around their waist. Hange backup against their chair, sitting down with you straddling their waist. They slid your shirt off quickly, hands massaging your breast through your lace bra.

“Sit.” Hange moved their thighs so you sat on one of them. You leaned into their neck, a shaky breath leaving your parted lips. “Go ahead, baby. Show me you deserve this.” Their cold hands grazed your nipples, down your stomach and landed on your thighs.

Your hips moved back and forth on Hange’s thigh, cold fingertips drawing small circles on your bare legs. “Fuck, Professor.” You mewl, head thrown back. Hange took the opportunity, kissing your neck again. They focused on one spot, nibbling and sucking it as you fastened your pace. Their hands grasped themselves on your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

“Look at me.” They demanded. You tried your best, but the feeling of euphoria had taken over and it was hard to keep eye contact. “Look at me.” They repeated. One hand grabbed your cheeks, squishing them together as your legs squeezed Hange’s drenched thigh. “Slow down.” Hange pressed their forehead against yours, this time kissing you slowly. “But Professor-” A hard slap on your cheek interrupted you. “Slower.”

You whine, but oblige. Your hips slowed down, the feeling starting to build up in your stomach again. You bite your lip down, Arms gripping Hange’s shoulders. “Oh, fuck.” You let out, face in Hange’s chest. “Fuck.” You repeat again, letting it happen. “Keep going, dear.” Hange held back moans from watching you fall apart on their lap,

You felt their hand inside you again. Your legs buckled as their fingers swirled around you, collecting your cum. Hange brought their fingers up to their mouth, eyes watching yours intently as they sucked their fingers clean.

You open your mouth, sticking out your tongue. Hange spat a mix of both of you into your mouth, letting out a pleasurable sigh as you swallowed with a smile. “These are for me to remind myself why you deserve this.” Hange took your panties, slipping them in their pocket. They gave you one last kiss, pushing your damp hair behind your ear. “I’ll see you here Friday?” “Friday works.” You smile before tangling yourself back into them.

#attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #hange aot #hange x reader #hange smut #aot smut #hange zoë #hange zoe #hange x you #hange zöe #hange x y/n #hange attack on titan #hange headcanons #hange x oc #snk hange #aot hange

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