#overtime x male reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

This is the same josiah anon, if i can request this: Perhaps a yandere Josiah? Thank you!!! I was so happy because you're my favorite writer aaa///

Yandere Josiah x male reader

Headcanons

Guess who’s not dead. I bought a new game, Knights of the old republic, and I’ve been playing during all my free time forgetting all about writing.

Here’s some good ol Josiah, I’m not sure how good I captured the yandere feel since Josiah in general is just kinda… like that. Not that it matters but I always imagine Josiah with Manlybadassheroes voice.

-          Josiah had never really felt attraction to anyone before, sure he had found people attractive, but most people tended to avoid him or talk to him as little as possible since he’s always been kind of a loner or weirdo.

-          Then you swaggered into the office building on your first day and went around introducing yourself to everyone, and when you caught what Josiah was playing on his computer, instead of scolding him like everyone else you asked him about it in interest.

-          After that the two of you started talking more, and Josiah’s interest in you only grew until it became a borderline obsession. It wasn’t an unusual sight in the office building for Josiah to follow you around like some puppy.

-          Everyone just assumed it was because you were the only person in the building that actually put up with him and all his pranks and lazy behavior. Josiah was like your shadow even when you both had other tasks to do, he was always right behind you, looking over your shoulder.

-          People around the building swore they’d catch Josiah glaring at them from under the shadow of his cap when they spoke to you, but they could never catch him in the act or prove it. It became almost a joke, to prod at Josiah by getting a little too friendly with you and making the other man jealous.

-          Again they all assumed he was jealous because you were his only friend, some even joked Josiah was in love with you.

 -          Josiah’s obsession became so bad it got in the way of his everyday life, especially when one day Damian was scolding Josiah again and you defended him, even lying at times to get Josiah out of trouble.

-          Up until then he had just seen you as his soulmate, now you were more like a god for him to worship, which also meant he didn’t want anyone to taint you and your perfectness, so he stopped hiding his glares or scowls as others got too close.

-          When Josiah one day came in late to work, he caught you and Damian talking and it looked like a heated conversation, especially the pensive expression on the blondes face which turned into a tight scowl as Josiah approached.

-          When Damian told you “Just think about it” before leaving, Josiah couldn’t help the burning jealousy that flared up in his chest, and when he asked in his lazy voice what you two had been talking about and you just said it was nothing, Josiah bit roughly into the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing or saying anything.

-          The conversation with Damian was because he was worried for you because of Josiah’s behavior, how possessive the man was and how he seemed to always be in your business, he had even seen Josiah take pictures of you or go through your things.

-          You don’t believe him of course, because its no secret Damian doesn’t like Josiah, and Josiah is your friend and is down to earth, so what that he likes to hold your hand a little to tight, or hugs you for a little too long. That’s just how he is.

 -          The first time you invite Josiah over to your place he’s over the moon, you two hang out and play video games, and when you fall asleep against his shoulder he keeps himself as still as the dead as he doesn’t wanna wake you up.

-          It becomes a regular ordeal, you two hanging out at your place. You never really wonder why you don’t go to Josiah’s place, since yours is closer to the office building so it’s a no brainer its your place the two of you hang out.

-          Josiah starts taking some of your things, starting small but growing bolder over time, going from taking tiny knickknacks or stealing your sleep shirt or your toothbrush. You never suspect Josiah and just assume you’ve misplaced it, though you do grow quite sad when you lose your favorite hoodie.

-          The hoodie returns after a while, so you just assume you must have misplaced it or overlooked it. You don’t really realize or question that its folded in a way you don’t fold clothes, or that it smells like Josiah’s laundry detergent and not your own.

-          Josiah had returned the hoodie to you after wearing it himself nonstop in his own apartment, in the beginning it was just so he could feel close to you, until he ended up arching in his bed wearing nothing but your hoodie, pressing another of your shirts close to his nose and inhaling your scent.

-          After that he had to wash it so it wouldn’t be retuned with mysterious stains, and when you didn’t seem to mind that it smelled different or that he had obviously taken it, at least in his opinion, he assumed in his delusional mind that you knew he was the one taking your things and you returned his feelings.

 -          The first time you kiss is during one of your hangouts at your apartment, Josiah had grown even more touchy after he came to his earlier conclusion, hugging you from behind or brushing his hand through your hair.

-          When you win one of your games, you cheer and as if to show off your victory you snatch the cap right off his head and tuck it on yourself.

-          Seeing you wearing his cap makes a mix of love, possessiveness and lust explode inside Josiah’s chest, so when you turn to him to gloat he leans right in and pressed his lips against yours.

-          At first you don’t respond and Josiah feels fear plummet in his stomach because he’s scared he’s ruined it, but when you start kissing him back and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in closer, Josiah lets himself run wild.

-          He starts devouring you like a starving predator, his hands going up your shirt and his tongue exploring your mouth, both of you moaning and grasping at each other like you need the other to survive.

-          Josiah litters your neck with bites and hickeys, and he grows so weak and whimpery when you leave your own hickeys and bites across his tan neck.

-          He is a mix of possessive and pathetic, in the way that he has his moments when he grabs you so possessively, growls to himself and goes on muttered rants about how you are his and his alone.

-          But then where are times where he’s cuddled into your chest and you run your fingers through his hair or rub his back, and he whines and whimpers, growing teary eyed as he kisses your neck so softly and grasps onto your shirt like he’s scared you’ll disappear.

 -          No one at the office is surprised when they learn you two are dating, they’re actually more surprised that you weren’t dating before.

-          Josiah will now use it as an excuse to hang on you even more, though he never goes too far since this is a workplace and he doesn’t want to get you in trouble. He will kiss your neck and cheek a lot though, or hug you from behind and rub your hips.

-          There will be some of your coworkers who jokingly ask you how you can put up with Josiah of all people, and when you respond that he’s super sweet and perfect for you, he just falls for you even more.

-          What you don’t know is that Josiah has most definitely threatened Damian, when the blonde had tried on a couple of occasions to show you just how creepy or how many red flags Josiah showed.

-          If Damian kept it up it wouldn’t be too surprising for the Blonde to go missing one day, and people will assume he just moved on to another job, that is if Damian’s body isn’t found somewhere in your town.

-          No one suspects Josiah since he’s just a lazy nerd who’s a little too touchy with his boyfriend, but its all blamed on him lacking a lot of social skills that comes from living the life he’s lived until this point.

-          Josiah will also use it as an excuse to be able to comfort you, holding you and kissing you and muttering about how he will keep you safe from whoever killed Damian, though he’s half convinced in his delusional mind that you know he did it and are just playing a role like he is.

-          Now with no threat around Josiah doesn’t feel like he needs to be just as protective as before, and at some point you two most likely move in together since he already spends most of his time in your apartment.

-          He openly steals your clothes now, since its more approved since you’re dating. He is also very obsessed with you wearing his clothes, so if you wanna drive him crazy just do that.

-          He’s a little, or very, crazy, but he loves you very much and would kill god for you if it meant making you smile.

#male reader #overtime #overtime josiah #overtime game #overtime demo #josiah nguyen #overtime imagine #overtime headcanon #overtime x male reader #overtime x reader #josiah nguyen imagine #josiah nguyen headcanon #josiah nguyen x male reader #josiah nguyen x reader #overtime game imagine #overtime game headcanon #overtime game x male reader #overtime game x reader #overtime demo imagine #overtime demo headcanon #overtime demo x male reader #overtime demo x reader

[luvt0kki]

training wheels | k.h.j

pairing : Professor!Hongjoong x innocent!reader ft!Wooyoung

♡₊˚( wrote this listening to ‘training wheels’ by Melanie Martinez)

summary: Too innocent for your own good, your professor's little hidden crush only grows the more he could spend time with you. You were so pure before his eyes. A sweet young woman who deserves the sweetest kind of love but still had trouble in paradise with her boyfriend…but he’ll be there for you. After all, he only wants what’s best for you and to protect you.

wc: 10.7k

cw: University AU, smut, coquette-ish fem!innocent reader, virgin reader, slightly older Hongjoong, manipulation, obsessive stalker-ish behavior, yandere behavior, corruption kink, cheating , frat boy behavior from Maknae line, oral!male receiving, there'll be more spice in the next part

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile and this has been cooling in my drafts for so long. Special thanks to @songmingisthighs for helping me whenever I’m stuck with writing and for being one of my favourite persons on this app 😭i wanted to write something that isn’t apart of the Sway With Me universe just for a change and a breather ( I hope you guys don’t mind that). I just wanted to write.

- this is will be a two part series!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Note: Hongjoong is a couple years older but he’s still young for a professor. Maknae Line is in their last year of Uni and is part of the University’s Varsity baseball team.Y /N is innocent ( smh). Kinda coquettish vibes but yuh, sweet girl.

The rain storming outside made anxiety bubble in your chest as you clutched your laptop bag and books tight. You glanced at your phone, the bright red bar of the little battery icon glaring at you. That just made your situation even worse and it didn’t help that the last message you saw was the reason you were stranded here in the first place.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. The team meeting is going overtime tonight. Get home safe. Please message me when you’re home.”

You waited for him. You should be angry at him but instead, you were only heartbroken and sad that he didn’t keep his word. You were frustrated that you couldn’t even hate him the slightest bit for forgetting to pick you up and the sudden downpour was just the cherry on top.

“Ms. L/N, is that you?”

That voice. That familiar tone that you heard every Monday and Wednesday from 8 am til 10 am. The voice that made your Art Appreciation lecture so interesting that you’re excited to come early every morning to learn sounded from behind you.

You turned around and quickly bowed your head in his direction out of respect.

“Mr.Kim.”

The young professor frowned at your presence.

“It is you. What are you still doing here?” He asked, extending his arm a bit to glance at his silver watch. “It’s almost 11 pm.”

“I-It started raining…” was all you could say. You couldn’t nor want to admit to your university professor the real reason why you were stranded on campus.

“Indeed…,” he gently grasped your arm and pulled you into the covered shade of the hall. “Do you need a ride home, Ms. L/N? I was just about to leave and go home but I can drop you off at the nearest bus stop or if you’d like, your home.”

His offer made your heart melt. Mr. Kim Hongjoong has always been so kind and sweet to his students. He has always shown such care and patience to their studies and well-being, and as the many girls in your classroom would whisper amongst each other, he was also very handsome. Which was a fact everyone in the whole campus knew.

“I don’t want to be of a hassle to you, Sir. I can wait for the rain to stop.” You tried to kindly turn down his offer, not wanting to bother him but also you felt it was inappropriate for a student to be in any proximity to a professor alone.

“Ms. L/N, it’s late and the rain doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon. I assure you it is not a bother to take you home. I’ll be worried if I just left you here.”

He was right. Both about the rain and the time, and you’re never out this late. Well at least not alone and it made you antsy. Mr. Kim looked at you with so much care in dark brown eyes that it felt impossible to say no to his kind offer.

“O-okay.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of your professor's fancy car.

You looked around subtly observing the luxurious interior of the vehicle. It smelled like new leather and Mr. Kim’s cologne. Your phone buzzed breaking your little observation as Mr. Kim typed in the location of your apartment into his phone GPS.

“Baby? Are you home? Please let me know.” The text message notification shone brightly.

You let out a little sigh.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice your rather wilted demeanor. He looked over you in the corner of his eye as he started the car. Little did you know, he was admiring your look today. You didn’t have class with him on Fridays so seeing today was rather…refreshing. Baby pink always looked so pretty on you, he thought to himself. Your blouse almost had a ballet-like aesthetic to it, it wrapped around your torso so elegantly and gently accentuated your curves. It was matched with a very pretty flowy white skirt that wasn’t too short nor too long, and there was a thin pink ribbon in your hair, the finishing touch to your very sweet ensemble. You always dressed so cute.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He asked his voice so calm and gentle that it calmed your silent frustration.

“Not really…” you muttered your gaze down at the hem of your skirt, your books, and your laptop sleeve on your lap.

The defeated expression you wore made the older man’s heartache for you. He didn’t like to see you like this. You were like a ray of gentle sunshine whenever you entered his classroom, a doe in a beautiful blooming field of flowers that radiated warmth that made anyone and everyone around you comfortable and calm. It was odd to see you like this.

“If you want to talk about it I’m all ears,” he offered with a smile, reaching behind the head of your passenger seat and glancing behind as he reversed up his car from the parking lot.

Your heart raced at the gesture. You didn’t know what about it was making you feel all flustered and small. His kind words and warm tone made it hard to keep your emotions in. Maybe you can just tell him…a little bit.

“I waited for my boyfriend to pick me up…but he didn’t come.” You murmured, heart aching as you said those words.

Hongjoong’s heart dropped, and he raised a brow at what you just said. Your boyfriend didn’t show up?

“I know I shouldn’t be so upset…it’s just he promised. I understand he has obligations to his team…I just feel like he forgot about me.”

Your sweet voice was so small. Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to soothe you and reassure you. Underneath all of that, he was bubbling with irritation. He kept a softened and caring expression on his face as he listened to you, gripping the stirring wheel to hide his annoyance.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” he said so sympathetically. “You’re such a sweet girl to be so understanding of your boyfriend. If I remember correctly your boyfriend is…”

“Wooyoung.” You whispered his name, your lips between your teeth as you tried to hold back your disappointed tears and hurt.

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened.

Right.

Jung Wooyoung.

“Ah…yes. The university’s baseball star.” He was also a student in one of his classes. A heartthrob along with his best friend and Baseball Vice Captain, Choi San.

“I’ll feel better when I get home and sleep it off.” You didn’t want to talk about him forgetting to pick you up any longer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. L/N, how long have you been together?” He asked, hoping his question was not so out of the blue as he continued to drive.

“Almost three months now, Mr. Kim.” You replied, the idea of being with Wooyoung for so long making you a little happy despite tonight’s disappointment.

Lucky bastard. “Oh, that’s very recent.”

“I know…but he’s very sweet to me. He takes care of me and he really makes me happy.” You listed the good things that always made your heart flutter. Your sweet loving boyfriend who had pursued you and never pushed for anything you weren’t ready for. If you were to describe your relationship with Wooyoung, it was like the love you see in the movies.

“That’s good to hear. You’re one of my sweetest students and I’d be worried if you weren’t happy,” Hongjoong smiled, earning the reaction he wanted and expected from someone as innocent as you.

Your pretty eyes widened at his words and you looked even shyer. He wondered if that’s why your boyfriend was attracted to you.

You didn’t know what to say but there was a small smile on your face when he called you one of his sweetest students.

“Thank you, sir.”

Sir.

Hongjoong’s night was getting better than he could ever imagine. First, the surprise of seeing you still on campus alone as he left, then you accepting his offer to drive you home, and now, Sir? For a long time, he loved how that name slipped from your pretty glossed lips.

“I’m sure your boyfriend feels really guilty about not having shown up. Sometimes these things happen.” Hongjoong tried to reassure you, not really wanting to defend the University senior you were seeing but he needed to say what you wanted or needed to hear.

You take his words as it is. He was older than you so he knew about these things more than you. He was wiser. He was right, these things do happen. Wooyoung did apologize too. So maybe it’s not as bad as you were making it out to be.

Hongjoong noticed how you sat up a little, no longer sulking so cutely in the passenger seat. He smirked a little to himself, his eyes on the road. Did you trust his words that much? Was that how much power he had over you?

You were too innocent it concerned him.

You were truly a doe in a field of flowers. So pretty and so completely oblivious to the wolves hiding in the tall grass. He was sure your boyfriend was one of them and that he too had a deep dark desire for your innocence.

“Is this your place?” He pulled up outside an apartment complex, people passing by in the street as he looked up at the building observing it.

“Yes, it is!” You chirped, happy that you were able to get home safely and it was all thanks to your kind and sweet professor. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kim. I really appreciate it. I really cannot thank you enough…and talking to you made me feel better. I’m really lucky that you were here tonight.”

Hongjoong smiled, holding back from reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to scare you away.

“If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, Ms. L/N, you can come to me okay? Here,” he reached into his pocket, getting his card but writing down his personal phone number in the back of it before holding it your way.

Like he expected you didn’t think much of it, what a sweet girl.

“Mr. Kim you’re so kind.” You took the pretty name card with his phone number in the back. “I don’t get into trouble but I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Let me help you get inside, okay?” He got out of his car with an umbrella, going over to your side to open the passenger seat door and to hold the umbrella over you and him so that he could escort you to your apartment lobby.

You stepped out of the car and blushed when you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders to gently guide you to the sidewalk and your apartment lobby. He made sure you were dry and safe and also took note of how an access card is needed to get in. He was glad you lived somewhere so safe.

You thanked him again, unable to look him in the eyes because the warm smile on his face was making your heart flutter.

“Now I can go home without worrying if you got back safe,” he lightheartedly teased, making you giggle. He was such a kind person. “Take care of yourself, Ms. L/N. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Enjoy your weekend, Sir.” You bowed your head respectfully, appreciating how handsome he was in his coat and suit. It made him look like a character from the dramas you see on television.

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought while Hongjoong found the weekend went by agonizingly slow. As he set up his laptop in the lecture hall as other students filed in, he couldn’t help but anticipate your arrival. He kindly smiled and greeted the students who had the energy to wish him a good morning, he even kept glancing at your seat that was still empty.

Were you not well? Did you catch a cold over the weekend from the rain on Friday night?

“You really didn’t have to walk me, Woo.”

Your gentle soft voice made the professor perk up and his heart race a little. Subtly, he glanced at the door, more students entering but behind them in the hall was you.

“Hey, I still feel guilty about not having picked you up on Friday. I’m gonna make it up to you.” Wooyoung placed his hand on your waist, feeling the soft fabric of your skirt. “You’re too nice if you’re just gonna let me off the hook. I’m gonna be extra attentive, okay baby?”

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at the young dark-haired boy, his varsity jacket telling everyone that passed who he was and the status he had in the university. He zeroed in on the hand on your waist, Wooyoung’s thumb caressing you gently and his fingers even playing with the cute ribbons on your skirt.

“O-okay,” you blushed, trying to fight back the giddy smile that was forming on your face.

Wooyoung grinned at your response and glanced left and right before pulling you closer til you were pressed against him. Your wide eyes looked up at him in surprise and you got your body tingling when both his hands rested on your waist.

Your fluster only made your handsome boyfriend grin even more with that twinkle in his eyes that always made you feel special.

“You have a nice day, okay?” He whispered and before you could respond, without a care in the world and with no shame if any other student passing would see, he leaned down and kissed your glossed lips.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. This was different from the soft pecks and quick kisses he’d give, these were the kisses you liked from him. The deep ones that made your head feel all hazy. The one that made heat pool in your lower belly.

Wooyoung pulled back and pressed another kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“O-okay.” You murmured, feeling everyone’s curious eyes on both of you and wanting to remain hidden by Wooyoung’s form.

Wooyoung smiled and then licked his lips. “Oh? Strawberry?”

The mention of your flavored lip gloss made you look up at him, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna have me craving you all morning, baby.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “How will I ever survive? One more.” He tried to go for another kiss and you squealed as he pulled you back.

“Woo, I have class!”

“But strawberry!” He pouted as he kept you in his embrace, some students rolling their eyes at the two of you and some finding the two of you cute and amusing. Wooyoung’s teammates from down the hall caught wind of the two of you and hooted.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ll be starting my lecture soon.”

The voice of Mr. Kim made your eyes widen as embarrassment made you want to hide from his gaze.

“Oh, Mr. Kim,” Wooyoung spoke his professor's name with no shame of getting caught being affectionate with his girlfriend. “Morning!”

Hongjoong could only manage a nod to his greeting before turning to you, still in your boyfriend’s hold and unable to look him in the eyes.

“Ms. L/N, class starts in five minutes.” He spoke sternly, his tone making your lips form a small pout.

The way you reacted to him made the older man before you swoon. God, you were too cute.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again. The way you said ‘sir’ all defeated and cute.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Wooyoung apologized. “My bad.” He removed his varsity jacket and draped it over your shoulders before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch, baby.”

Then Wooyoung sauntered away with a swing in his step and his bag over one shoulder, on his way to his respective class.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” You murmured, keeping your gaze down and hugging your books to your chest as you went inside the room along with the last few students who arrived.

Hongjoong watched as you made your way to your seat. Your pretty skirt swayed with each step and he wondered if skirts made up most of your wardrobe. It must be such a delight for your boyfriend.

Loosening the grip he had on his pen as he watched the whole interaction between you and Wooyoung, he smiled at his students. What mattered the most to him was you were safe. You were here and you were safe and well. Never mind the fact that you and your boyfriend easily made up from Friday night’s incident.

You were here.

The lecture was an enjoyable one not only for the students but him as well. As he discussed the significance of art during the Roman Empire, his students were all hooked in with his explanations and discussions, and even he got carried away excitedly with every question and topic.

“Mr. Kim is so hot.” A classmate beside you, Jennie, whispered to her friend, the two of them giggling as your professor shared his knowledge with the class.

“And he’s so nice too. You think he’s a virgin?” Minsol whispered back and you felt your heart grow hot listening to them.

You fidgeted in your seat and tried to block them out, focusing on Professor Kim.

“He’s so young to be a professor. Maybe he spent all that time studying to the max, you know! Maybe he is!”

“He’s so cute.” Minsol chuckled. “But then he’s so sexy when he pushes his hair back.”

And almost as if on cue, Mr. Kim ran his fingers through his dark brown locks, pushing them back as he smiled at his students in awe at the discussion.

He was handsome. You admitted that a long time ago. Attractive? Yes. But he was your professor. It was wrong to think of him the way Jennie and Minsol were.

Til now, their voices couldn’t be blocked out completely.

“I’d gladly blow him for a good grade,” Jennie whispered, her eyes looking Hongjoong up and down.

“Jennie!” Minsol playfully smacked her friend, her voice still hushed.

“What? Just think of it. Goody two shoes Mr.Kim so kind and worried that your grades are slipping, and then you tell him you’d do anything to raise your grade.” Jennie described the scenario so vividly. “No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you listened to the fantasy. It didn’t help that Mr. Kim was right there before your eyes as Jennie’s voice whispered discreetly to her friend such a scandalous scenario.

“But it won’t stop there.”

That piqued your interest and you felt ashamed to have been so curious.

“He has a nice car too. Imagine fucking in the backseat of that luxury car way past campus hours in secret.”

Your heart thumped strongly at the mention of his car. You had been in his car and the dirty thought of Mr. Kim being all over your body and kissing you in the spacious backseat crossed your mind.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned all his students, happy that they were enjoying the class but paused when he saw you. Your body was swallowed by your boyfriend’s big varsity jacket and you looked flustered, even biting your glossed lips, fidgeting in your seat.

Then he saw the two girls next to you giggling and gossiping. What were they talking about that was making you blush so much? Briefly, your eyes moved from your notebook and locked with his but you immediately looked down when you saw that he had been looking your way.

Hongjoong could only assume they were talking about him. In what way? He wasn’t sure but it was a way that was making you look even shyer and could he dare say, hot and bothered?

Then the bell rang.

“Alright, we’ll continue the discussion on Wednesday and I’ll hand you all your Renaissance art period essays that I already graded then. Have a nice day.” Hongjoong’s elegant and calm voice echoed in the lecture hall, as he made his way behind his desk, sitting out the papers.

A chorus of thanks was sent his way as the students little by little exited the lecture hall. He looked your way, watching as you packed your things and gathered your books.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jennie turned to you. “How are you and your stud of a boyfriend?”

“Oh, m-me and Woo?” Your lashes fluttered so prettily as Hongjoong pretended he couldn’t hear you and the girls.

“Yeah! We saw you two being all cute and kissy out in the hall.” Minsol chuckled as she touched up her makeup with powder.

“We’re great.” You couldn’t stop the happy smile on your face as you thought of your boyfriend.

“He’s your first boyfriend, right? Have you two…you know….”

Your brows furrowed. “Have we what?”

Hongjoong fought his sigh at how oblivious you were.

Minsol’s eyes widened as she snapped her compact closed and leaned over. “You guys haven’t?”

“What are you two talking about?” You tilted your head like a puppy.

The two girls exchanged looks of shock.

“Y/N…” Jennie leaned closer, lowering her voice even further but Hongjoong’s ears were sharp. “Are you a virgin?”

Immediately, your face was burning as you hugged your books to your chest, wanting to cover your face with Wooyoung’s jacket.

“Holy shit!” Minsol exclaimed then realized she had been loud. She looked towards the whiteboard and saw Mr. Kim looking at the three of you questioningly. “Uh…sorry Mr. Kim!”

Hongjoong only smiled and he shook his head, returning to his papers and was glad that he was sitting behind his desk as the idea of you never being touched morphed from shock and into desire. He kind of guessed you were…but dating the star athlete and heartthrob of the campus made him second guess that you were.

“Girl, you need to come with us!” Jennie hooked her arm with yours and Minsol on the other as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye, Mr. Kim!” They chimed as they dragged you out with them.

“B-bye, sir.” Your little voice reached his ears as the three of you finally left him alone in the empty hall.

Hongjoong hunched over, crossing his arms on his desk as he groaned.

You were driving him insane.

What’s worse was that you didn’t even intend to do so.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

As the afternoon passed, Hongjoong made his way to his office. The hall was empty as students were in their classes or their club activities. It was peaceful til he heard hushed whispers ahead from an empty classroom, the door only slightly ajar.

The professor frowned. Were there students doing another weed deal on campus? Before concluding, through the very small gap of the wooden double doors, he took a peek.

“S-someone could walk in.”

Was that his sweet Y/N’s voice? Hongjoong’s heart began to race.

“Baby, I promise no one is. This room is always vacant at this hour.” Wooyoung reassured you, kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, specifically caressing your thighs that were parted as he stood between them.

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat.

Perched on the large mahogany desk, was you. Your skirt was hiked up higher as your boyfriend pressed against you, his paws all over your soft body, feeling you through your clothes.

“You look so sexy in my jacket,” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, his hand moving lower til they were under your skirt. “I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you looked during lunch.”

You softly yelped when his fingers pressed against your core through your cotton panties. “W-woo!”

“Awe, baby, are you getting wet? All for me?”

“W-woo,” you whimpered when he traced his fingers along your slit, embarrassed at the dirty talk.

“Fuck, you’re soaking through your panties, baby. Tell me you want me to touch you. Ask me and I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

You wanted him to keep touching you but you felt a little guilty. You had started to feel hot way earlier than your boyfriend knew. Jennie and Minsol’s hushed whispering from class about Mr. Kim…ashamedly had made you ache.

“M-make me feel good, Woo.”

Your boyfriend groaned against your neck, rubbing you through your panties. “My pretty baby. You deserve so much.”

Your back arched when he applied more pressure to your clit.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby. I promise…. but I won’t make your first time here in a classroom.” He kissed your neck messily, licking your skin.

“But Youngie…” you didn’t want him to stop touching you. He has touched you like this many times before when he came over but it never went past that. He didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for but as time passed and the more you fell for him, you’ve been wanting to go all the way with him.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum. I’ll be a good boyfriend and let my pretty girlfriend cum.” He kissed your forehead, slipping his hand under your panties to truly feel you. “You’re so wet, baby.” He moaned, collecting your slick and spreading it all over your pussy.

“Youngie,” you whimpered, gripping his shirt as your thighs trembled at the delicious friction.

“I love it when you call me that,” he sighed, repressing the urge that he indeed in fact wanted to ruin his pretty untouched girlfriend. He loved you and he wanted to treat you right as best as he could. You weren’t like the other girls he’s been with. He liked how you looked at him with stars in your eyes.

Your thighs squeezed at his sides unable to close as he continued to play with your pussy, touching you heavily and the way you liked. You couldn’t help but softly moan and pant at the intoxicating pleasure.

Hongjoong was burning with jealousy. A part of him wanted to disrupt the two of you and scold the two of you for misconduct as he had every right as a professor to do so. But…you looked so pretty falling apart for your boyfriend. Brows furrowed as your lips part and sigh, the setting sun hitting your skin in such a way that the lewd imagery before him was like a movie. He could feel his desire straining in his trousers. He wanted to watch.

“Youngie,” you whimpered so prettily.

Hongjoong took note of how your back arched when Wooyoung nibbled and kissed at a spot on your neck. You must be extra sensitive there. He also imagined how soft your breasts would be if he was the one cupping them through your cute blouse.

“You close baby?” Wooyoung rasped against your ear, rubbing your clit faster, making you lean your head forward to rest on his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue, his right hand leaving your breast to grab you by the chin, making you look at him. “Let me see your pretty face, baby.” He swiped his thumb over your lower lip and bit his lip when you suddenly took his digit into your mouth, softly sucking on it. Where the fuck did you learn to do that? “C’mon, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

You released his thumb with a soft pop, your lips even glossier from your gloss and saliva. You were panting and moaning so cutely, Wooyoung felt he was going to cum in his pants just at the sight of you getting off his fingers. He massaged your clit faster, watching the way your lids began to droop as you blinked up at him hazily and your lips part in a cute little ‘o’.

“Youngie!” You cried out, back arching and thighs trembling as you reached your high, your pussy dripping more arousal all over your boyfriend’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Such a pretty baby.” Wooyoung cooed, enjoying your fucked out expression. It was addicting really. His sweet innocent girlfriend falling apart for him. If you were this fucked out by just fingers, he can’t imagine how fucking delectable you looked when he finally fucked you.

Hongjoong bit his lip as he watched you come down from your high. How your arms wrapped around your boyfriend as he slowed his circles on your clit. He wished he could see how your pussy looked, how wet it was, and how sweet the nectar it produced.

Wooyoung took his hand from your panties and brought his fingers to his lips, your eyes widening. His hand left its grip on your face.

“W-woo!”

That didn’t stop him from letting his tongue dart out to lick his digits. “You taste so sweet, baby. Maybe I’ll come up tonight once I drop you off and really have a good taste of you.”

You blushed at his words and felt heat spark in your lower belly at what he hinted. Did he mean that he was going to kiss and taste you down there? With his tongue? The idea made your cheeks grow hot but that only made your boyfriend grin.

“Oh? You’re not opposed to it?” He teased, enjoying the way you only huffed and pouted your pretty lips. “Here, baby. Taste yourself.”

Hongjoong watched as you wearily, so curiously, poked out your cute tongue to lick your boyfriend’s fingers. How did you taste? Did you like it? You batted your lashes up at your boyfriend who awaited your verdict.

“So? How do you taste?” He took your hand in his other one, just relishing the moment you two had in the orange sunset-lit classroom.

“G-good.”

“Atta, girl.” Wooyoung grinned, taking you into his embrace and kissing you again.

Hongjoong felt his head pound from how hard he was in his pants. He wanted a taste. He needed a taste.

How was he going to get close to you when you and your boyfriend were all fine and dandy again?

“What do you say, baby? Friday night? I’ll come over and we’ll watch a movie. I’ll bring your favorite strawberries coated in chocolate. Then maybe…” he caressed your cheek. “We could go all the way?”

“W-won’t it hurt?”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s hearts ached at your sweetness.

“Well, when Friday rolls around, and you’re not up for it. It’s okay. We’ll just have a cozy little date and make out. I’ll wait for you when you’re ready. Okay?”

His gentle voice along with his care for you made your stomach flutter. “O-okay.” You leaned your cheek into his palm. “I love you, Woo.”

“I love you too, baby.”

While you and Wooyoung basked in the moment you two found yourselves in, Hongjoong made a beeline to his office and locked the door. He glanced down and saw the bulge of his cock poking through his tailored trousers. He threw his head back, slamming it against the door as he groaned.

He was going to have to take care of it himself cause it wasn’t going to go away til he did.

He didn’t know when the stalking— okay, in his defense, following and keeping an eye on you, started.

All Hongjoong knew was, he needed to get to know you. He needed to get closer somehow, be a friend. Someone you could turn to and cry to. Plus, you lived alone, away from your parents. You needed someone to protect you.

From all the wolves that surrounded you, including that boyfriend of yours.

As he passed the baseball field from where he parked his car, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of young wolf pups gathered and talking beneath the morning sun. They all wore the same varsity jacket, making Hongjoong’s pack of wolves analogy even truer.

“So? Did you and Y/N go all the way yet?” The Vice Captain of the team asked, the young and handsome Mr. Choi.

The rest of the boys began to nudge and tease their Captain who had been tossing the baseball in his hand nonchalantly.

“Yeah, have you and little Miss all prim and proper done more than just second base?” The tallest of them, Song Mingi, joined in the teasing, the boys all grinning and tossing oo’s and ah’s. “Your girl has a nice ass.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung harshly hissed at his teammate. “Yeah, and that’s my girl you’re talking about.”

“Can’t blame Mingi. You’re with the campus’s dream girl.” Jongho added, running his fingers through his brown hair.

“Dream girl?” Wooyoung’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah! Sure she’s lowkey and literally the nicest person on campus. Hell, she even helped me with calculus. I even thought of asking her out on a date.” San chirped. “But you got to her first. Anyway, that’s beside the point, did you guys finally do it? Friday night?”

Hongjoong remained hidden behind the shadows of the bleachers, needing to know the answer to San’s question.

“We didn’t. She got nervous and you know, I have to be a good boyfriend and wait. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s a nice girl.” Wooyoung finally responded, his answer earning a groan from his friends.

Mingi stared at him for a moment. “You should be a saint. That amount of self-control is crazy.”

“Well, good things come to those who wait, Mingi.” Wooyoung grinned. “I’m a hundred percent sure my girl is worth the wait and more.”

“You’re really down bad for her, huh?” Jongho laughed softly, actually admiring the fact that Wooyoung was becoming a better guy with you.

“Y-yeah…she is. I really love her.”

“I just can’t believe she fell for you. After all the girls you slept with in the past and the parties. She still fell for Jung Wooyoung. Anyways,” Jongho clapped Wooyoung on the back. “I hope you get some soon.”

San wouldn’t relent though.

“Has she at least been…you know….giving? I know you worship the fuck out of her in different ways but has the pretty princess given back?”

Hongjoong should head back to his office before he’s caught but…he needed to know the details.

“San, she doesn’t know how.”

Wooyoung’s response made San groan and Hongjoong fought back his own.

“She’s a fucking angel your girlfriend.” San huffed his crush on you not concerning Wooyoung as he knew San would never cross the line.

“Dude, when you get to teach her, it’s gonna be so fucking hot.” Mingi sighed, thinking of who to contact for his next hookup. He needed to fuck.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but agree. To teach someone as beautiful and pretty as you, how to use your cute mouth and delicate hands…the fantasy of you between his legs while he sits on his office couch…guiding you while you look up at him for him to lead you…the young pups have a point.

“Okay, can you guys chill and not talk about my girlfriend like that?” Wooyoung lightly scolded his friends. “Anyways, you guys better be on your best behavior for tonight’s practice. I'm driving Y/N home for our date and I really don’t want to have to bail again because Coach isn’t happy with our performance.”

“We’ll do our best,” San spoke for them, sending a pointed glare to Mingi and Jongho, they’re bickering always getting their Coach to overtime their practices. “But coach hasn’t been in a good mood as far as I know.”

Wooyoung swore under his breath, worry bubbling in his chest when he imagined your disappointment and the way your eyes become glassy as you fight back tears. He really didn’t want to make you feel like he didn’t care about you again…he knew you understood his obligations to his team. He just hoped he wouldn’t forget to update you this time and keep you waiting for him.

Hongjoong didn’t stay long after that. He went off his merry way back to his office, wondering if tonight would be another chance to have some time with you again. Be your knight in shining armor if your boyfriend doesn’t pick you up again.

All he needed to do was stay in your good graces.

After all, he just wanted to take care of you…

It began with longer conversations after class, asking how you were doing and if you understood the lecture or not. Then when midterms started to round the corner he would casually stay past campus hours just so that he could ‘by chance’ be finishing up late at the same time you were finished up studying in the library.

But this time, when he found you, the sun was beginning to set and you were in one of the library aisles, in the sections students don’t frequent, on the floor hugging your knees to your chest. Your back was against the tall wooden bookshelf and you were by the window, your head below the window pane as you softly sniffled.

Hongjoong felt his stomach twist. What did your boyfriend do?

“Ms. L/N?” As softly as he could, he called out to you and he saw you visibly stiffen.

“M-Mr. Kim?” You kept your head down, too embarrassed to look up at him because he would see the tears and puffiness in your eyes.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He slowly approached, observing your body language if you would shrink away from him. He kneeled before you. “Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the way it quivered as you wanted to tell him exactly what happened but you were crying over something so silly.

A gentle warm hand softly patted your head, your heart stopping at the touch. Maybe you could tell him everything. Besides…he has been so kind to you and only ever wanted to make sure you were okay. When the two of you spent time together and talked, you would sometimes forget he was your professor and not just a friend.

And yet, your heart couldn’t help but want to be in the palm of his hand, knowing he’d be gentle with it.

When you lifted your head to look at him, the tears in your eyes had Hongjoong almost falling to his knees and wanting to embrace you right then and there. “I’ll take you to my office okay?” He offered, taking out his handkerchief and putting it in your trembling hands.

“O-okay.” You murmured.

With a guiding arm around your shoulders and making sure no wandering eyes would see the two of you, the likelihood being low since it was past class hours, the varsity teams were training and it was a Friday, he led you to his office.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of his office, clutching his handkerchief in your hand, a part of your brain contemplating the idea of being vulnerable in your professor's office. It was highly inappropriate. Should anyone find out—

You were torn from your thoughts when a pair of warm arms wrapped around you so gently. You blinked a couple of times unable to process what was happening and the beating of your heart. Hongjoong cradled the back of your head as he held you close to him, your cheek brushing against his neck.

“It hurts to see you cry.” He whispered, unable to hold himself back from soothing you then he pulled away and led you to the leather couch in his office.

You sat on one end while he was on the other, the gap between you reminding you of the intrusive thought of the distance you and Wooyoung might have soon…

“What’s wrong, darling? You can tell me, you know. I’m always here to lend an ear. Whatever it is I won’t judge you, especially when it hurts you this deeply.”

Hongjoong tried to meet your eyes that were cast down on your fingers on your lap, fiddling with his handkerchief. Was it your boyfriend? He swore if it was Jung Wooyoung he was going to teach that boy a lesson.

Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to speak freely to him.

A moment of weakness?

“I-I overheard Youngie’s friends when I was in the library…they were about to leave for practice and…” you felt that lump in your throat creep up higher, making you want to sob again as you remembered what they said. “They said that they felt b-bad for him.”

Bad for him?

“It’s a bit…tmi…sir. I’m sorry it’s hard to speak about it.” You stared at the edge of your skirt, feeling the shame and embarrassment you had felt earlier crawling on your skin.

“Ah? TMI.” Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing to make it comfortable for you to tell him. “Well, Ms. L/N, we are two adults, aren’t we not? Plus, it’s after university hours. I’m here for you right now as a friend and I’d like to help soothe your troubles if you would let me.”

It was almost too easy the way you caved into his words. Jung Wooyoung did not deserve a sweet girl like you.

“Youngie’s teammates…said they feel bad for him because I haven’t…” you paused, heat blooming in your tear-stained cheeks. “I haven’t slept with him.” Then you felt that ache in your heart return. “I don’t want to lose him, Mr. Kim. I love him so much. I-I want to be a good girlfriend.”

Hongjoong’s heart broke. His beautiful wilted rose. How dare those dumb boys speak so ill of you?

“You’re a good girlfriend I’m sure, Ms. L/N.” He reassured you with such calmness, his words made you perk up a little. “You didn’t hear these words from Wooyoung himself right?”

You nodded.

“But even though…I still want to make him feel good. He always makes me feel…” you trailed off, realizing that you were talking about the intimate things you and your boyfriend do. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with Wooyoung like that…I just…I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Disappoint him how?”

“Wooyoung has been with girls…with experience. He’s my first boyfriend and he’s the first man to ever touch m-me…kiss me…”

Hongjoong was fighting back the attraction grew the more you spoke about your lack of experience. He couldn’t believe those boys had you questioning your worth all because you were scared to go all the way with your boyfriend.

“I-I even tried watching…videos…on how I can do things for Wooyoung…but I just am too scared to initiate it. What if I do something wrong and it goes horribly?”

“You shouldn’t need to worry about that. I’m sure your…” Hongjoong held himself back from saying what he said with jealousy. “…boyfriend would be more than happy to teach you. Has he offered to?”

You shook your head.

“Ah…I see.” Hongjoong sat back, trying to think of what to say next. “I’m pretty sure what you lack is practice…” he trod carefully, gauging your expression with each word he was choosing. “You’ll never know til you give it a try. With everything in life, you learn as you go.”

He watched as you took each word seriously, a rather sweet pensive look on your face as you nodded at his advice. Hongjoong hoped he didn’t cross the line by saying that and made things awkward between the two of you.

“If I may speak as another human being helping another,” Hongjoong continued, hoping to calm your stormy mind. “I just hope you don’t feel pressured to do anything with your boyfriend or anyone. It’s very sweet of you to want to do something this intimate with someone you desire but I’d rather you won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, going over all the caring and sweet affirmations Mr. Kim was giving you. How was it you felt so safe with him? He was too kind to you…yet you enjoyed the company he gave.

When Wooyoung wasn’t able to take you home from extended practices and last minute cancellations and texts, Professor Kim was always there to somehow salvage the day. To stop the breaking of your heart with his warm smile and effort to get to know you and make conversation.

“M-Mr. Kim…”

You finally spoke. Hongjoong smiled warmly at the call of his name. He observed how your cheeks began to flush. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you hesitate to continue. You suck in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be brave and look him in the eye.

“Could you guide me?”

Nothing but your voice rang in his ears at this moment. Hongjoong was shocked by the question. Was it a question? With the way your eyes were bleary and glossy, how your lips were trembling, and how flustered you appeared. It was a plea.

“Ms.L/N….” He tried to resist as much as he could, knowing that if he were to cross the line, he wouldn’t be able to go back. You were his forbidden desire. If he were to take a bite, he would want nothing more than to consume you.

You knew what you asked was silly and inappropriate, and a part of you regretted asking but if you were to leave this room right now, all you would be able to think about was how Wooyoung’s friends talked about you and wonder how much Wooyoung shared to his friends about yours and his relationship.

Mr.Kim looked speechless and flustered from what you asked of him. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

“Mr.Kim, I-I’m so sorry,” you quickly blurted out, trying to salvage the odd atmosphere. “Please forget everything I said. Thank you so much for comforting me—

"Are you sure you want me to help, Ms. L/N?” Hongjoong stopped your rambling, taking your hand that you hadn’t realized was trembling from nerves but the moment he spoke and he touched you, your body found a sense of calm. “I just don’t want to make you do anything you’ll regret.”

Oh, he wanted to help.

“I-I wouldn’t have asked anyone else but you...I feel safe with you.” You mumbled shyly, staring at his pretty hand holding yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles.

“Your trust in me is something I shall cherish and I wouldn’t dare break it.” He looked you in the eyes as he said that, the warmth and intensity of them made your heart flutter. “I promise I’ll keep it strictly professional and I’ll make sure to put your comfort first.”

Your heart fluttered again. “O-okay.”

“How would you like this to go?”

“I-I’m not sure…Wooyoung usually takes the lead whenever we do anything more than kissing…” you were speaking so softly, it was pulling at Hongjoong’s heartstrings. You were so precious. “I wouldn’t mind you taking the lead…teach me how to make Wooyoung feel good.” You squeezed his hand nervously and he kept his soft smile on his face, hiding his excitement.

You’ll let him take the lead?

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with okay?” He caressed your cheek fondly, forcing himself to not brush your lips with his thumb. “Tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

“Thank you, sir.” You whispered, feeling all tense as he got closer.

Sir? Were you trying to kill him? He scooted closer, your knees touching his own. “Do I have permission to touch you, darling?”

The pet name made you feel just a little bit more hotter. The way he said it, his voice a low purr, made you feel things you thought you’d only feel with Wooyoung.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Experimentally, he slowly glided his hand up the side of your thigh, the sweet gasp falling from your lips making him smirk against your neck. He brushed his lips against your neck, before whispering in your ear. “You’ve watched videos as research, correct?”

You stuttered out your response, feeling your body grow warm with the way his hand smoothed up and down your thigh, never going higher than where your skirt stopped. “I did…” Was it wrong that you wanted his hand to move higher?

Hongjoong held back from kissing your neck, testing the waters of what exactly he could do to you. His hand moved to your waist now, caressing the curve of your side then stopping so that his thumb was just below the underside of your bra covered chest.

“Why don’t you show me what you learned, hm? Then I’ll guide you along the way.” He suggested, his tone going just a little lower than usual.

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, between your professor's trousered thighs, your eyes looking at him with such uncertainty and the willingness to learn.

“Don’t be shy. I’m sure you won't disappoint,” Hongjoong reassured you, petting your head lovingly while his thoughts were going wild at the mere sight of you all cute and demure between his legs.

“O-okay.”

As you had watched and observed, you placed your hands on his thighs. They trembled a little. What if you messed up here too? You shook the thought away. Professor Kim was going to guide you. You’ll be okay and then you’ll be able to make Wooyoung feel good too.

All of this was for Wooyoung.

You slowly slid your hands up his thighs feeling the smooth fabric of his trousers as you recounted the videos you had seen. You remembered how the woman in the video would trace her fingers over the man’s groin…but was Hongjoong even…turned on?

You remember how stiff Wooyoung would get when you were on his lap as you two made out, his hands running up and down your sides then over the curve of your ass, squeezing it.

Do you need to kiss Mr. Kim too?

Before asking, you experimentally softly placed your palm against his groin, blushing to find that he was hot and rather stiff through his pants. A shaky breath escaped him and you retracted your hand.

“W-was that not okay?”

“It was fine,” he managed a smile for you, getting hard at just how shy and sweet you were. “You’re doing fine.”

“O-okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, gliding your palm over his clothed groin before sliding higher, your other hand joining to unbuckle his belt.

Each gentle and inexperienced touch or ghost of your fingers over his crotch was making his cock twitch to life. It was so easy for him to be turned on…well…because it was you. It was endearing how focused yet nervous you were and once you tugged his briefs down low enough for his cock to spring up, your eyes stared at his length.

From his reclined position on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you, he was able to notice the way your thighs squeezed to tether at the sight of him.

Your face was hot as your eyes took in the sight of his cock. It was way more intimidating to see one in person than on a screen…was it odd for you to think it was rather pretty? The head was a soft pink and it glistened with something that made your tongue somehow itch to want to try and wrap your mouth around him. Would he fit in your mouth? Would he fit in— you stopped yourself from thinking that. You can’t go all the way with Mr. Kim, you were going to do that with Wooyoung.

Feeling his warm gaze on you, you gently wrapped your hand around his length. The feeling of him hot and heavy in your palm, the girth of him, made your core pulse.

Hongjoong bit his lip at the gentle touch, the smoothness of your palm, and the dainty way you held him making him sensitive to whatever you were doing. He knew it wasn’t on purpose that you were prolonging any sort of movement, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Tell me what you learned,” he managed to speak calmly. “Or what you observed.”

Squeezing your thighs together and inching closer to get into a comfortable position, you thought of what to answer. “In the videos…the girls take their partner in their mouth…and some just move their hand…I'm not sure what to do next, I’m sorry.” You looked away, embarrassed.

This was exactly why you never initiated it with Wooyoung. If you did and you messed up or did not even follow through, he would’ve mentioned it to his friends somehow in their talks.

Hongjoong saw how nervous you were and tried to suppress the desire to command you what to do and how you should do it, he placed his hand over yours that was softly holding his cock. He couldn’t be mean to you…as much as he wanted to completely control you and make you feel pleasure that would have you falling apart for him, he wanted to be gentle with you.

“I’ll guide you, okay?” His other hand petted the top of your head, making the nerves yo I had been feeling dwindle. You nodded.

“You have to spit on it first, sweetheart.”

His words made your eyes widen. The dirty notion was embellished with a sweet term of endearment. Hearing it from him, from the mouth where only kindness, care and knowledge was all you heard come out of it, made you feel warm.

“Spit on it?”

“I know it sounds odd but it’ll help. I’ll guide you on how to use your hand first. Don’t be shy, darling.”

His encouragement only made you want to do as he says. You told yourself it only feels weird because you’ve never done it before and Mr. Kim was kind enough to help you be more confident when the time comes for you to do it with your boyfriend.

Leaning over, you collected your saliva and spat softly. Hongjoong bit back any sound that dared escape him at the moment not ready to break the promise of being professional for your sake but the warmth of your spit and how shyly you did it turned him on even more.

“Now,” he guided your hand. “Spread it around with my precum like this.” He loosely moved your hand, letting your dainty fingers be covered by the mix of your spit and his precum. “It’ll be easier to move your hand this way, it’ll feel good.”

You nodded, feeling the slickness against your palm and how it now easily glided along his length with his hand still over yours.

“You have to hold it just a little tighter.” He closed his hand over yours a little tighter but not too tight but just enough to tell you how much pressure you should be applying.

“L-like this?” You adjusted your grip and slowly while your hand moved in slow up and down motions, he removed his hand and a deep sigh of bliss left him.

“Just like that, sweetheart…just like that.” His voice dipped lower and his head rolled back a little, giving you the perfect view of his sharp jawline and pink lips.

Your eyes kept shifting from his face and to his cock in your hand, entranced somehow by the idea of how he was feeling good by just your hand. Watching a video was completely different from actually doing it. You recalled the way a girl in a video would twist her hand as she glided her hand up and down, and you decided to try the motion.

Hongjoong hissed out a curse at the new movement. “That feels good.” His hips bucked up a little, pushing his cock up in your hand.

Feeling a little braver, you leaned forward to press your lips on the head of his cock, kissing it and feeling heat surge to your core at how warm the tip was against your lips.

Hongjoong lifted his head from its thrown back position to look at you, the sudden sensation of your soft lips on his cock turning him on further.

“You want to try that already?” He asked, his hand gripping the armrest of the couch when your doe eyes looked up at him so innocently, your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and nodded, it was driving him crazy. It was getting harder and harder to retain any sense of composure. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what you learned. You’re already doing so well. You look so cute like this too.”

His words of praise and compliments made both your heart and core throb. It made you try even harder to please him. You wondered if it was okay that you were getting wet. You could feel your slick sticking to the gusset of your panties and against the lips of your pussy.

Hongjoong moaned softly when he felt your hot tongue swirling around his cock head. He twitched within your hand continued their rhythmic twisting and up and down rhythm. He watched as you tasted him. He could see the way your brows furrowed at the taste and when he felt you take more of him in your mouth and suckle at the sensitive tip of his cock, you were making it harder for him to not buck his hips up into your pretty mouth.

“You doing okay?” He asked, gently placing his hand behind the back of your head, caressing you.

You nodded, humming, the vibrations of your sound adding some extra pleasure to the way you were giving him head.

“F-fuck, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

The way he said that made your pussy clench. Why did that have some effect on you? It sounded so hot coming from him and it made you want to please him even more.

Eventually, you took what you could of him in your mouth, fighting back your gag reflex and bobbing your head shallowly along his cock. Your hand continued to jerk what you couldn’t fit of his length in your little mouth. You were aching so bad, you couldn’t help but let your free hand slide between your thighs to find your pussy, surprised at how wet you were. It was easy to spread your arousal all over your cunt and begin massaging your clit the way you liked, settling for the friction of your fingers.

Hongjoong noticed your dainty hand between your legs. The sight of you suckling and bobbing your cute head up and down along his cock, and touching yourself was sending him to the edge. Plus your lips tinted with pink gloss were mixing with your saliva as you continued to suck him off. You were so fucking cute.

“I’m close darling. You’re doing so well. You had nothing to be so nervous about. F-fuck.” He shuddered when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you squeaked so adorably, the sound muffled. What a cute little slut you were touching yourself as you stuffed your little mouth with his cock. Though he was saying such sweet praises, deep down he wanted to fuck his cock into your mouth and watch you cry from taking him. He was betting you’d look up at him with wide pleading eyes with tears as you let him use you as his personal cock sleeve.

The mere thought of that sent him over the edge and without warning, he came. A small squeak left you as sudden hot spurts of cum spilled into your mouth. You latched off of him in surprise, your hand still pumping him as he came. His moans and the way his head was thrown back, made you stop touching yourself so you could focus fully on the way he climaxed all over your face.

“Fuck!” He groaned as his hand that was cradling your head gripped your hair and his hips bucked up into your hand, riding out his high. You whimpered as he tugged at your hair, the sensation making your clit throb. Why did that feel good? Why did having his release on your cheeks and in your mouth, turned you on?

“Open up, darling. Let me see.” Hongjoong tugged your hair back almost forcibly, his gaze almost predatory, it scared you a bit. You’ve never seen such a dark, menacing yet charming expression on your sweet and kind professor.

You parted your lips and he smirked.

He wondered if you knew just how cute and ruined your look right now. Pink gloss smeared over your lips and your cheeks flushed and stained with his white sticky cum, and the best of all, his seed was on your tongue.

He wished he could take a picture.

You didn’t realize you were breathing slowly as your heart was racing and he stared down at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“You look so pretty like this, darling.” His grip on your hair loosened and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb dipping into your mouth as you still obediently kept your lips parted for him. He smeared more of his cum all over your lips and chin, finding the idea of him on your skin so hot…it’s like he marked you. “Such a good girl.” He cooed and you didn’t know why you did what you did but you swallowed his salty release, and his reaction made it all worth it. “What a perfect girl you are.”

His praise only made your heart flutter, his words only feeding that part of you that wanted to please him…to please Wooyoung.

“D-do you think Woo will like it?” You asked, your voice a little hoarse as you sat there on your knees, looking up at him so sweetly.

Hongjoong held back from rolling his eyes at the mention of the boy who didn’t deserve you. He masked his annoyance with a smile. “He’ll like it, darling. You did really well. I mean it.” He took his handkerchief and began to clean you up, gently dabbing your cheek.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you couldn’t stop the way a smile grew on your face at the approval from your most trusted mentor.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim—

“Hongjoong.” He cut you off with a gentle smile, looking at you lovingly.

“What?” You stuttered that same feeling you felt earlier, the confusion of the same way he made your heart flutter like Wooyoung does.

“You can call me Hongjoong when it’s just the two of us, darling. I think with how close we’ve gotten…I’d like you to call me by my name. Don’t you think we’re rather close?”

There was something about his eyes that captivated you. It was so magnetic it was hard to not be completely wonderstruck and in control of that powerful gaze.

All you could do was nod.

“That’s a good girl…” he cooed, smiling warmly. “Perhaps, you need more guidance. You want to be a good girlfriend for your Wooyoung right?”

You did, you wanted to be the best girlfriend for him.

“I do…”

“Sometimes what you see online is not entirely reliable. I’m offering you…private lessons…doesn’t that sound good for you?”

You nodded, letting him pull you up on and onto his lap, gasping when your core pressed against his thigh.

“I’ll teach you all there is to know. I want what's best for you and for you to know exactly what you’re getting into.” He ran his hand up and down your thigh, slowly. “You don’t want to disappoint Wooyoung, right?”

“I don’t Sir…” you said so quickly.

So innocent. So naive. So dumb. So perfect for him to ruin.

He never thought he’d get to this point.

All this time, he has only ever admired you and desired you from afar. He kept his reputation as a well-loved and kind professor so that no one and you, especially you, would ever question his motives.

“Now, I think we should try this again. You did really well but I can teach you a little extra something that will make your boyfriend so, so, so happy.”

feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl with you and I love feedback. It keeps me writing.

special tags : @khjcs @skteezcursed @caityelise99

#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

[captain-hawks]

double shift

— kento nanami x f!reader

summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?

word count: 4.2k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy

Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.

Today has been shit.

Capital S, Shit.

His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.

His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 

You’re too fucking good for him.

And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.

And seeing you pregnant?

While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 

And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 

So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.

But he’ll fucking do it.

Of course he will. 

“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

She’s finally asleep.

Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 

“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.

You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 

“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 

He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”

“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.

For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 

“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.

Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”

“I’m well aware of what he does.”

“Then why—”

“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.

And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.

You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 

Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 

“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 

“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

It’s not fine. 

It’s anything but fine. 

It’s a complete fucking disaster. 

Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 

You’re fucking stunning. 

And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 

But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 

Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 

He needs to fucking leave. Now. 

“I should go—“

“—do you want some tea?”

You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 

He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 

He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 

His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 

Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”

As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”

Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 

“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 

“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”

Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”

“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”

He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 

You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”

“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”

Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 

But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 

In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?

Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.

Fucking fuck. 

What the fuck is he doing?

Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 

And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 

But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”

Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”

You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 

He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 

Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 

But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 

His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 

“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  

“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 

“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 

And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 

᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Nothing has ever felt this good. 

Nothing. 

Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 

He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 

He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 

He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 

And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 

It’s filthy.

It’s so fucking filthy. 

And maybe it’s wrong. 

But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 

It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 

“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 

“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 

You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”

He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”

A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”

“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 

“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 

He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 

Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 

You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 

And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 

“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 

“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 

It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 

Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”

Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 

“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”

Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”

You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 

“Is that too tight?”

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”

He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  

You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”

Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 

“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 

“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 

A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”

If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 

“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”

You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 

The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 

Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”

Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”

“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”

He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 

And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 

Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 

You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.

“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

#kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #jjk #jjk smut #dee writes

[k-hotchoisan]

mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP

Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘

As always, enjoy 🩷

snap.

<Choi san x fem!reader>

Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.

Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.

“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.

You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.

Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.

“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”

You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.

You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.

San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.

Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.

His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.

An appointment via referral.

He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.

[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]

He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.

[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!

Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.

I don’t bite, I promise!]

He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.

You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.

You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.

“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.

Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.

“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.

The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.

He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.

And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.

His hand is placed over his heart.

San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.

San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.

“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.

San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.

You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.

When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.

“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.

“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.

“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.

Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.

“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.

“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.

That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.

“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.

The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”

By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”

San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.

San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.

He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.

You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.

“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.

San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.

He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.

“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.

“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.

The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.

San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.

“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”

It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.

Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.

What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.

San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.

“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.

Fuck.

San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.

He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.

The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.

San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.

He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.

Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.

Right onto you.

He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.

Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:

One; San is right above you,

Two; his lips are hovering over yours,

Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.

And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.

As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.

“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”

You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.

“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”

Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.

“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.

Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.

San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.

His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.

He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.

And it makes you excited.

San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.

He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.

He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.

“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.

“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.

“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.

San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.

“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”

“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.

He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.

“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.

“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.

His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.

“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.

Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.

So that’s what he does.

San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.

He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.

“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.

Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.

His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.

“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”

You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.

Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.

“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.

“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.

“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.

It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.

His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.

The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.

San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.

He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.

You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.

San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.

What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.

“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.

“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.

“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.

Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.

And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.

He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.

Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.

“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.

San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #choi san smut #Choi san #San ateez #ateez san #choi san ateez #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #cultofdionysusnet

[0cta9on]

Train Ride to Heaven

length: +3k words

Genre: Smut

NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

(Author's Note: The winner of the first smut poll! I wrote this entire thing in 1.5 sittings, so it's very rough and unedited. Nevertheless, hope you horny sickos enjoy it <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

A weary sigh leaves your lips as you rest the back of your head against the trembling glass of the subway. Eight years of college, even more years of brown-nosing just for a sliver of a chance at a promotion, hours of sleep lost from nights working overtime, and where did it land you? A thankless office job that considers you more of a number than a living, breathing human being. After all that, you get to go home to a loveless marriage with a woman you know for a fact is cheating on you with her personal trainer, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. Hooray for you.

You feel the subway slowly creep to a stop. A few more of those and you’ll finally be able to sleep and pretend like you're dead for a couple hours before doing it all over again. A lone girl, at least 18, walks into the car and takes a seat directly across from you - an odd move considering the entire car is completely empty aside from you. You try to ignore her, opting to get some shut-eye before you get to your stop, but you can’t deny the shift in the atmosphere from her presence. She’s a pretty young girl, all alone at this time of night. You could do anything to her and no one would even know. You shake your head at the thought. No good can come from a perverted old man like yourself.

“Psst…”

Although, there’s no fault in thinking like that if it stays in your mind. A cute girl like her could easily be taken advantage of. In fact, she’s lucky that you’re here instead of an actual sicko that would try to put their hands all over her.

“Psst… Ahjussi…”

This shitty marriage has got you all pent up. Not like you would have any energy left in you, especially after a day like this. Lucky you. Maybe if you pray hard enough, whatever god is up there will pity you and summon a woman that’ll throw themselves at you. If only life were that easy.

“Ahjussi!”

Your eyes shoot open from the sudden noise. The girl sitting across from you giggles to herself as she smiles at you. It isn’t immediately obvious due to her innocent features, but you can tell that she’s hiding something behind that smile. Something sinister, even. How exciting.

“What?” You ask. Her sly smile only grows as she subtly raises her skirt. Little by little, she reveals the supple flesh of her thighs, firm and plump. You know in the back of your mind that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be exposing herself to an old man like this, but the second you see that little bit of white cotton in between her legs, all common sense flies out the window. Suddenly, she lowers her skirt, much to your disappointment. Your emotions must have been obvious as she cackles sweetly, pointing at your face. Embarrassed, you lean back and shut your eyes, hoping she’ll leave you alone for the duration of the ride.

“Ahjussi~” she teases in a sing-songy voice. “Open your eyes~” Like a fool, you follow her orders without a second thought. This time, however, the reward is greater than you could have ever imagined. Her white cotton panties are there in full view for no one else but yourself, drawing you in like a siren. The girl bites her lip as she traces circles around her crotch, more for you rather than herself. Your cock begins to strain in your pants, begging to be set free.

“Come here,” she says, beckoning you with a single finger. You quickly do as she says and sit next to her. Up close, you can see just how deceivingly innocent she is with her big, round eyes and her thick, pouty lips. Anyone would walk by her and assume she’s a classy and upstanding student, not a little slut teasing random old men in a subway (Not that you mind).

“My name is Hanni, what’s your name?” She asks, gripping the sleeve of your blazer while she plays with herself under her skirt.

“I-I, u-um, m-my name is-”

She brings a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Actually, I don’t really care, I’m just gonna call you daddy,” Hanni giggles. You force yourself to take a deep breath in an attempt to remain composed, but inside, you’re cheering like an addicted gambler finally hitting that sweet, sweet jackpot.

“So Daddy, what are you doing riding the train home this late at night?” The lilt she puts on that word is enough to drive you insane, but you try to hold back, not wanting to scare her off if you appear too eager.

“Uh, y’know, just getting home after a long day of work. Boring office job and all that. Nothing you would find any interest in,’ you sigh. Hanni pouts, looking at you with a sympathetic expression.

“Awww poor daddy, you must be so stressed.” She holds onto your arm, pushing her perky breasts into you. Your wife has never given you so much as a glance in your direction whenever you showed up exhausted from work. She’s probably too busy texting her personal trainer. Hell, she’s probably fucking him right at this very moment. It’s only fair if you get to have some fun for yourself, right?

“Yeah, I suppose I am pretty stressed. On top of that, my wife has been cheating on me with this personal trainer guy she met a couple months ago.” As soon as you mention your wife’s adultery, a hint of a smirk appears on Hanni’s lips.

“Oh no~,” she says, feigning pity. “Maybe I can help you… feel better?” She puts your hand on your chest and inches it downwards, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Her face is close enough for you to feel her breath on your chin, but just far enough for her to escape if you try to kiss her. All you can do is wait as you feel her hand getting closer and closer closer to your raging erection. Everything fades away but the pumping of your heart and the gentle brown of her eyes. Finally, a guttural groan escapes your mouth as she grasps onto your cock, stroking it through your pants.

Hanni giggles at your expression. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Do you like it when I play with Daddy’s cock?” All you can do is nod as she continues to toy with you, rubbing and squeezing along your shaft. It’s been so long since another person has touched your penis that you almost finish right then and there, but you continue to hold it in with steely determination.

“Daddy’s cock is so big and thick, I don’t know if it’ll fit in my tiny, little mouth.” Hanni leans into your ear, tickling your skin with her breath as she whispers, “Maybe we should find out.”

“Y-yes, god yes,” you practically beg.

“Then tell me what to do,” she says. “I’m your little whore for the night. Treat me like one.” Those filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth is a memory that you will never forget until the day you die.

“Fucking suck my cock, you slut,” you command her, a little too enthusiastically. Even in the prime of your relationship, your wife would never let you talk to her like this. To have your commands followed by this cute girl is heart-poundingly exhilarating. You feel like a whole new man.

Hanni fiddles with your belt buckle at a snail’s pace. You try to do it yourself to get the ball rolling, but she swats your hand away.

“Let me do it by myself, Daddy~” she pouts. With a nod, you lean back and let her have her way, succumbing to the desires of her cuteness. If she wanted to, she could easily take over the world with her looks alone.

After unbuckling your belt and unzipping your pants, all that’s left is the fabric of your underwear separating your dick from her glossy lips. Hanni places a few gentle kisses on your bulge, drawing a moan from your belly. Giggling, her fingers hook around the waistband and pull it down at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you to wait as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Finally, your member swings up, almost hitting Hanni in the face. Her jaw drops as she gazes at your length, a look of surprise and a little bit of fear in her eyes.

“Oh shit…” she whispers to herself before shaking her head and putting back the sultry appearance she had before. “I can’t wait to choke on your big, fat cock, Daddy,” she smirks as she begins to stroke your shaft. Hanni’s hands are much softer than your wife’s, and even more skilled as she cups your balls, applying just enough pressure so that it doesn’t hurt. You watch with bated breath as she leans forward, eyeing the tip of your cock for a moment before it disappears into her open mouth. The sound of your moan echoes throughout the subway car as Hanni sucks on your tip, slowly taking in more of your length with each bob of her head. Even your wife’s cocksucking skills pale in comparison to hers, you almost feel bad for the guy that she’s fucking.

“Yes, good girl, Hanni. Suck that dick, you fucking slut,” you encourage. You notice her ass sticking up in the air, and thanks to the rumbling of the train and her bobbing motions, her skirt rides up just enough for you to peek at the white panties covering her ass, giving you the bright idea to reel back and her a good, hard spank. She moans into your cock, heightening the sensation. 

“I bet you like that, you little whore.” You yank her up by the hair, forcing her to look at you, saliva covering her mouth and chin. All the inhibitions and common sense you had before are completely gone, leaving nothing behind but animalistic desire.  “Say it. Say that your daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“I’m daddy’s little fucktoy,” she repeats, giggling at you. Satisfied, you release her hair and sit back, watching as she alternates between deepthroating your shaft and sucking on your balls while she strokes your entire length with her spit. You would happily quit your job and live at the subway instead if it meant you get to have this petite sex doll all to yourself every night.

Suddenly, the train comes to a stop at one of the stations and a man stumbles inside. The two of you scramble to cover up, hiding any semblance that the two of you are doing anything indecent. Much to your dismay, the man sits nearby, making it difficult for even small gestures to go unnoticed. He’s clearly not a student nor is he an office worker, so why the hell would he be riding the subway this late at night!?

“Wait,” Hanni whispers, pointing at the man. “Look.”

Confused, you watch as his body begins to sway with the movements of the train. Upon closer inspection, you notice that his eyes are struggling to stay open and his clothes are disheveled. Clearly, he’s either drunk, faded, or both. Finally, BAM - he knocks out on the seat, completely unconscious.

Hanni stifles as she gives you a knowing look. “He’ll be out for a little while so…” She bends over the seat, shaking her butt at you. “Fuck my little pussy with that cock, Daddy~,” she teases, winking back at you.

Pounding with excitement, you release your cock and stroke it back to life, while your other hand pulls down her white cotton panties, finally revealing her pinky honeypot to you. With Hanni’s saliva as lube, you line up your tip with her cunt, teasing her moist folds.

“Are you ready, baby?” you ask

“I’m so fucking rea- MMPH!” She struggles to stifle a moan as you completely bottom out inside of her, all in one thrust. So slick and so tight, you don't even care about comparing her to your wife anymore. All you want to do is ruin her little pussy and use it as your personal cocksleeve. You sink your fingers into her hips, pulling her into you with each thrust and watching her cute ass jiggle against you.

Fuck that stupid company. Fuck your stupid bitch of a wife. Your entire life you were told what to do, how to act, and what you should look like in order to succeed in life. You followed everyone’s orders to a T, even going above and beyond to obtain that success that was oh so coveted. But look where you are now - eight inches deep into some girl you just met tonight. Fuck the “high-paying job” and fuck the “hot wife”. If this isn’t success, then you don’t know what is.

“O-oh my g-god… Y-you’re so f-fucking h-huge…” Hanni squeaks in between thrusts, desperately trying to control her volume. You’re unsure how much longer you can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Whether she likes it or not, this slut is gonna leave with a gallon of your cum deep inside of her.

Hanni’s body begins to shake violently. “I-I… I’m cumming!” She shrieks wildly.” You pull out of her, watching in astonishment as she squirts all over the seats. And your wife said you could never dream of satisfying a woman - if only she could see this now. 

“H-holy shit…” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder as she gasps for air. “That was… fucking insane.” Both of you laugh as you wait for her to get down from her high. Miraculously, the man didn’t notice her ear-splitting orgasm, still completely out cold.

Suddenly, Hanni straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your head. “I noticed that you didn’t cum yet, Daddy.” She gyrates your hips, rubbing her wet slit against your tip. You figure she would still be sensitive after the first round, but it’s clear she was built purely to fuck. “Maybe we should change that,” she says, biting her lips.

“Maybe we should,” you smirk. Hanni kisses you as she drops her hips onto your cock, causing her to moan into your mouth. Not wanting to give up dominance completely, you shove your tongue down her throat, filling two of her holes at once. The wet slapping of her bouncing on your cock echoes throughout the car, and at this point, you don’t care if that man wakes up or not. He could be completely conscious and recording you right now, but you still wouldn’t stop plowing this little minx. In fact, you secretly hope that he is recording right now - the whole world should know that this fucktoy named Hanni is yours and yours alone.

You rip open her top, exposing her perky tits. They are on the smaller side, but they’re big enough to jiggle with each bounce and that’s good enough for you. Hanni grabs your head as you latch onto her tits, licking and sucking every inch of her chest. The pressure begins to build in your loins and you know the end is coming soon. Wanting to milk every drop of this experience, you stand up, supporting Hanni by the ass, and begin ramming into her with every ounce of energy you have left. Rather than a 40-something-year-old man, you feel like you’re reborn again into your 20-year-old body. You feel the familiar tightening of Hanni’spussy around your member, and with one final thrust, your body is elevated to Heaven. Shooting rope after rope into her deep cunt, the high is nothing like you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Not even your wife- Ah, who cares about her. She’s nothing but dirt under your foot, while Hanni is an angel sent from above.

You gently place her down on the seat before collapsing next to her, shutting your eyes so you can replay this entire experience in your head. Never in your life did you think you would ever get this lucky. The train comes to a halt, and a hand pats your shoulder.

“Sorry Daddy, but this is my stop,” she giggles as she skips towards the open doors. Despite the rough pounding you just gave her, she somehow managed to look presentable in the short time that your eyes were closed. “I’ll see you around, Daddy~”

The last thing you see is her wink before hopping off the train and disappearing into the night. You’re disappointed that you didn’t ask for her contact information before she left, but you’re confident that you’ll cross paths with her again in the future. Surely, whatever god that heard your prayers isn’t that cruel, right?

As you approach your stop, you quickly get yourself sorted, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from passersby. If your wife asks about any mysterious “stains” on you, you could easily attribute it to being clumsy while drinking. Not that she would care enough to ask anyway. 

Upon exiting the car, a police officer stops you as you approach the stairs.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says. You try to ignore him, hoping that there’s someone behind you that he’s referring to, but unfortunately, nobody else is around. “Sir, I need to talk to you for just a moment.”

“What’s the problem, officer?” You ask, hiding your panic behind a nervous smile. A whirlwind of questions swarm your mind. Is this about Hanni? Did you get caught? Was it that drunk guy that sold you out? Beads of sweat begin to form on your head as the police officer questions you.

“There has been an increase in robberies in the subway recently and I just want to ask if you saw any suspicious individuals lurking around the subway.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the heat isn’t on you. “Well, no officer, I haven’t seen any suspicious individuals around,” you reply.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “All the victims have described the suspect as being a short Asian girl, about 18 years of age, with big brown eyes and black hair. Does that ring any bells for you?

An alarm blares throughout your head. Surely he’s lying, right? Maybe he’s talking about a different Asian girl. There are probably thousands, no, MILLIONS of people that fit that criteria. Besides, you and Hanni shared a special connection tonight. She’s the answer to everything that ever went wrong in your life, an angel sent from Heaven to cure you of your miseries. Hanni wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You dig through your pockets, frantically scrambling for your wallet and your phone. You feel something in your pocket and pull it out, only to be filled with dread at the sight of it - white cotton panties.

#newjeans #pham hanni #newjeans hanni #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #hanni x male oc #newjeans hanni x male oc #hanni x male reader #newjeans hanni x male reader #smut #hanni smut #newjeans hanni smut

[atozfic]

splish splash.

pairing. san x seonghwa x wooyoung x yunho x fem!reader synopsis. they’re out to prove who’s the best at the breast-stroke- gets dragged off stage as the people boo over such a terrible pun. warnings. no use of y/n, swim team au, lifeguard!reader, pro-swimmers!sanhwawooho, they’re all wearing speedos :), smut ( porn with unnecesary plot, degradation, m+f oral sex, piv sex, anal sex, double penetration, triple penetration bc u got 3 holes for a reason sweetcheeks, mxm interactions, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, hair pulling, way more warnings that there’s honestly no point listing, just know this is pure filth that covers most bases of stereotypical fanfiction smut, mother in christ what have i written? ) no verbal consent is given throughout this but all parties are willing participants !! word count. 20k+ ( of literal porn. i need to leave this physical terrain bc i am not worthy of existing after writing this i fear. ) hyde’s input. hey girlie pops, long time no see.

it’s crazy, what some people will do for money.

take, for example, your roommate. she’s a smart girl. a beautiful one, too. with a promising future in criminal law, once she gets herself that pesky little degree. and, yet, she’s funding her tuition with money she earns distributing high-end drugs on campus. rather counter-productive, most would agree. or, in a far less extreme version, there’s that overly-hyper frat boy, who can always be found doing the dumbest dares at a party, all for a few bucks and a keg of beer.

and then there is you.

you would have arrived home twenty minutes ago at this point, had things gone to plan, a backlog of neglected assignments and a baby bonsai tree in need of watering desperately awaiting your return. yet here you are, stuck in your ugly flip-flops and uncomfortably stale shorts, whistle around your neck and a look of exhaustion on your face.

the swimming pool had closed, technically, an hour and a half ago. the sports centre seems to believe, however, that certain members of the college swim team reserve the right to use the pool for however long they require and desire, even if it is at your expense. if you were being paid overtime, perhaps you’d have a more positive outlook on things and less of a frown creasing on your forehead.

if the swimmers weren’t so irritating, maybe you’d enjoy the view.

“all that height, and for what?” the sophomore boy’s voice- jung wooyoung? you aren’t overly familiar with him, seeing him only in sporadic flashes when you pass each other on campus or at some uncivilised frat party- echos through the large room, his hair a wet mess. if you were gaining anything from being here, you’d perhaps muster up the energy to remind the boy of how a swim cap is necessary at all times in the water. “can’t even out-swim me with those long legs!”

“wanna know what my long legs are for?” jeong yunho, a junior with the face of an angel and the body proportions of a sinner, pipes up from across the olympic length pool. unlike the other boy, a crimson cap keeps his own locks out of sight. “climbing up the stairs to go fuck your mom!”

it’s impossible to stifle your laughter, no matter how hard you try to just play it off as a tickle at the back of your throat, a cough forcing its way out. when your eyes meet those of the glaring senior, however, you’re wishing you hadn’t made a sound.

“even the lifeguard can’t take you seriously, yunho,” park seonghwa speaks, eyes not leaving yours as his muscled arms work to pull himself out of the water, before letting his well-rounded behind sit down on the edge. a breath hitches in your throat as his gloriously muscled thighs come into view, drops of water cascading down them in a pattern set to hypnotise you, keep you staring a little longer than is good for your health. “bet she’s heard all about you and the boner incident of 2019.”

truthfully, you have no clue what the dark haired male is on about. that doesn’t stop you from laughing again though, this time a little out of malice and a lot because it’s quite endearing to see a loudmouth like jeong yunho be silenced so easily, head bowed and ears a little rosier with embarrassment.

this small moment of peace is soon shattered by the reality that these boys can’t spend more than ten minutes in a room- particularly one that includes a pool- without arguing. while one boasts about his speed, the other begins to jab at his lack of endurance, and the remaining of the three reminds them all of the fact he holds the most medals amongst them.

“are they always like this?” you jump, surprised by the cold drop of water that lands on your exposed thigh, all courtesy of the boy who’s invited himself to sit down next to you on the bench.

“not always,” you bite at the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to not look at san in all his wet glory. you’re afraid that, once you start looking at him, you won’t be able to stop. it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen victim to the crime that is his enchanting smile. “guess they’re feeling a little feistier than usual, with the district championship just around the corner. rumour has it one of you guys is risking his scholarship if he’s not in the top three.”

are you and san close?

that’s a good question. see, by social standards, you’re not strangers. you share several classes, you attend the same parties, you’ve even texted a few times- mostly on the days one of you miss class (read as: san misses class thanks to his swim-meets) and you need a copy of any notes taken that lesson.

but, you aren’t exactly friends either. you don’t go out of your ways to spend time together, you don’t know more than the surface level about one another, you don’t check-in with each other.

so, is acquaintances the best word to describe you two?

that depends on how common it is for an acquaintance to suck another acquaintance’s cock. granted, there had been a lot of alcohol in the mix, on both ends, with you drinking to forget a botched assignment and san drinking to forget how badly his voice had apparently cracked in front of his crush.

a few weeks have passed since the incident and things haven’t exactly been the same. you’ve missed class twice and ended up contacting heather- a sweet girl who sits down by the front and seems to live with her hand raised in the air- for any notes. likewise, san has found himself declining party invitations, the knowledge that you would be there all too prevalent in the front of his mind.

the irony is that neither of you quite know the reason why you’re avoiding each other, you just are.

or, were, until san had walked in with his swim team buddies- if they could even be considered that- and spotted you in your lifeguard attire. he hadn’t been as slick as he thought he was, sneaking glances at you between laps and even gaining an undeniable smile each time he watched you blow that stupid whistle at some misbehaving kids.

he was slicker with the fact he didn’t need to be here, at this hour. but, he figured staying gave him the chance to stare at you a little longer and, maybe, think up an excuse to talk to you.

“i should-”

“i missed-”

you both speak at the same time, minutes after watching the three musketeers disappear into the locker rooms, with the smallest of them continuing to dig at them for not being able to out-swim him despite their ample amount of height. san’s quick to signal you to go first, a dimple making itself known on his face and reminding you of the deadliest part of him: the false innocence that drips off him like warm candy.

sweet, sticky, making a mess all over the place.

“i should probably start cleaning up.” it turns out san also isn’t discreet when it comes to hiding the disappointment in his face, because no sooner than those words leave your mouth, the dimple is gone and he’s sat a little straighter, a little more ridged, like when the professor points him out in the middle of the class and the golden boy can’t stomach all the attention being on him. “but, what were you gonna say?”

“oh,” and it’s like he’s just remembered that yes, there is something he wants to say. “i missed you in class yesterday.”

it catches you off guard, leaving you to almost drop the whistle you’ve been fiddling between your fingers for the past few minutes. something about sitting so close to him while both of you are dressed so scantily has you feeling unnerved, like you need to run away as fast as possible, yet also wanting to plant yourself right in his lap.

“i didn’t think,” you’re cut off by your own throat, dry and desperate for a drink under his intense gaze. san is a walking contradiction, you think, with his sharp cheekbones and soft heart, his intense eyes and his easy-going smile. his presence gives you never-ending whiplash, never sure if he’s more angel than devil. “i didn’t think you noticed.”

“how could i not? there was no one to laugh with me at professor nam and his weird toe-shoes!” his laugh is infectious, willing your own to make an appearance. 

the sound of distant muffled yelling fills the air of the swimming pool and it isn’t hard to recognise wooyoung’s high-pitched laughter amongst it. clearly, their childish arguing has carried on into the changing rooms. it surprises you in no way, already more than used to their antics.

their rivalry is one for the ages, all of them constantly bumping heads for the spot of the top swimmer on campus, their sports scholarships becoming their pride and joy.

you suppose it doesn’t help that all four boys run in different circles, only really crossing paths when faced with swim-meets and days of practice. the senior, park seonghwa, runs with the richer kids of the college, all sharing their trust-funds and god complexes as a common interest. you’re not overly familiar with them, though you’re certain he and a particular blue-haired boy are rarely seen apart. jeong yunho, the tallest, is in with the jocks, which is mostly just because his taller friend is the captain of the basketball team. and jung wooyoung tends to surround himself with the stoners from the school, something you’d learned from kang yeosang, a dealer you shared a couple classes with back in your first semester.

san, ever the golden boy, drifts between a couple different groups but he can usually be found alone and enjoying his own company, if not being followed by a flock of his own little fan-club, men and women alike begging for just an ounce of his time.

your name echos around the room. your head snaps to the side and you find that san is now closer, staring at you in a way that’s making your insides knot up. you’ve seen that look only once before, and it done nothing but leave your knees and your ego bruised. “were you listening to me?”

“what? uh, yeah, i was,” you’re quick to lie, knowing it’s about to backfire when he breaks out in a challenging grin.

“really? what did i say?” he only allows you to stumble over words for a minute before cutting off your incomprehensible speaking when he grabs at your chin and tilts your head up, staring straight into your eyes. “that’s what i thought. you were too busy getting lost in that pretty little head of yours to pay attention to me.”

you stutter over a noise and settle for that as your response, though entirely incomprehensible and nonsensical. the way he continues to stare at you feels cruel, demons dancing around in those pretty eyes of his. demons that are telling him to tease, torture, torment the fragile eyes staring back at him, the same ones he’d delighted in watching fill up with tears a few weeks back, the pressure of his crown slamming against the back of your tight throat entirely overwhelming you to the point of crying, tears dripping down your cheeks and mixing with your own drool pooling over the swell of his balls.

“need me to repeat myself?” you’re slow to catch up to the fact he’s speaking again, and even slower to notice the hand resting on your knee. at first, you think you’re imagining things, the feather light tracing of nails over your soft skin a mere figment of your imagination. but, no, your eyes flash down to glimpse and his hand is there, fingers dancing over your naked skin like it’s their own personal stage and he’s intending to put on the show of a lifetime. he speaks your name. “questions are meant to be answered.”

“i-” san picks the perfect time to apply pressure on you, hand gripping the flesh on the lower end of your thigh. goosebumps spring to life at the feeling of his cold ring on your damp skin. it takes a shaky breath to try compose yourself but you do eventually manage to get a reply out. “sorry... please say it again.”

“huh,” he pauses to contemplate, slowly leaning his face closer to your own, giving you all the time to pull back if you want to. you stay still and his minty breath infects your senses while the hand on your leg replaces your thigh with your face, the grip he has on it forcing blunt nails to nip at your skin. normally, you’d worry about the marks it’s going to leave behind. right now, you want him to grip tighter, dig deeper into your flesh till he’s drawing blood and licking it off your cheeks. “how the fuck do you still sound so cute begging?”

“is that,” his other hand curls around the back of you, finding a resting place on your hip. the window of opportunity you once had to pull back or run away is slammed shut the moment he tugs you a little closer, the side of your body crashing into his naked chest. “what you said earlier?”

“oh, no.” san almost sounds like he’s cooing, a mocking tone in his voice that has your thighs clenching in a way you’re sure he notices. his eye flickering down to glance at them confirms your suspicions, the smirk taking over his features the metaphorical cherry on top. “i was just talking about how i’ve still not returned the favour.”

mind blanking out on you, you stare back at him in what you can only imagine to be a dumb-founded look, mouth slightly agape and teasing your answer.

what follows, however, is a resounding silence on your end.

“c’mon, princess, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what happened the last time i got you alone.”

forget? it’s all you’ve been able to think of every time you’ve seen him since, whether he was a figure in the corner of your eye during class or making his way down the campus car-park in search of his beaten up mustang.

each time, like an old record player, your mind plays on loop the way he looked staring down at you, long legs spread enough to fit you between them, closing in on you to trap you in place each time you swallowed him a little deeper; replaying the symphony of whiny moans and airy breaths you’d pulled from him, lips swollen and red from trying too hard to hold back his cries of pleasure; reviving the memory of his vice grip on your hair, tugging at the roots to tilt you back into the perfect angle for his hips to piston into your warm mouth, meeting his own crescendo in one final pathetic whimper of your name.

a whimper that’s pushed you over the edge several times since, fingers soaked in your own sins and mouth biting down on your pillow to keep your poor sleeping roommate oblivious to your actions.

“no,” an answer escapes you alongside a shaky breath, something about the way he’s slowly trailing his fingers down your neck and the intensity he’s staring at you with hypnotising you into forgetting all about the boisterous boys and their changing-rooms chanting. “haven’t forgot.”

it’s his turn to stay quiet and you begin to wonder if he’s recalling it too, if he’s reminding himself of how easily your bodies melted together, like candle-wax meeting a flame. the question of if he’s thought about the exact scene, hands stuffed down his pants while a dull ache builds in his wrist, burns the tip of your tongue.

but his eyes burn you more.

they’re usually wide, bright, full of that bubbly nature san is known all over for. but, if what people say is true and the eyes are the mirror to one’s soul, then san’s soul must be a dark pit made up of lustful glares and hooded eyelids, resting so low his eyes almost appear shut.

“then, don’t you agree that it’s my turn to have a taste?”

it’s the question to end all questions, no time to even think of forming an answer when his fingertips are dancing over your skin so rhythmically, like a practiced choreography when they curl and wrap themselves around your neck. they rest there for a heartbeat, and then another, before you feel it begin.

the pressure is dull, at first, and you think you’re imagining it. but it grows, like a seed under the sun, blossoms into thorns squeezing around your airways, a deformed rose made from the red marks his fingers will be sure to leave behind.

you try to breath in, only for it to get caught somewhere between your lips and his tightening hold.

“you’re too fucking pretty, you know?” the hand on your hip has found a new home on your cheek, palm warm and thumb rough as he swipes it over your bottom lip. “all i can ever think about around you, even when you were drooling all over my balls.”

you want to answer, you really do. but between the hand around your throat and the heat shooting straight for your core, burning up in a puddle of arousal, you can’t. all you can do is watch the man before you, raven hair a beautiful mess just begging for some fingers to be ran through it and stare promising to ruin you in the best way possible.

the silence pleases him.

“y’know, it’s so hard to get you alone. always got someone wanting to talk to you, stealing your attention. do you even know how many stupid parties i had to attend to finally get the chance to talk to you?” san pauses, like he’s waiting for you to relay an answer, guess a number. he loosens up the grip on your neck, teasing your skin with a few soothing strokes of his slender fingers, lulling you into a state bordering insanity. “no answer, angel? or are you lost in that pretty little head again?”

“i’m,” your voice is but a whisper, raspy with your new found thirst. “trying to figure out what you want from me.”

if it’s the wrong or right thing to say, you’re soon to find out, the sharp faced boy releasing a dangerously low chuckle as he takes a hold of your chin. like a pretty doll, you move any time and any way his fingers command you to, finding yourself staring right up into his eyes, a swirl of melting caramel that reminds you of how sweet yet sultry every inch of him is. lips near touching, he refuses to break eye contact as he speaks up once more, sealing both your fates when his breath hits your face.

“then let me show you what i want.”

his mouth comes down on yours like it’s the answers to all your prayers and, yet, all your nightmares.

it excites you how easily he works his lips over your own, captivating every inch of you when he tilts his head to the right and deepens the kiss. the rhythm to his kiss is a mismatch of beats, where one moment your lips are moving in a sensual waltz, grazing tongues and dipping heads to get rid of that inch of a space remaining between your bodies, and the next moment your tongues are tangled in a tango, the kind where his teeth send blood rushing to your lips with every bite he drags over them and his hand drags shivers down your spine as it makes its way down your body.

yet it terrifies you how willingly you succumb to san’s touch, intoxicated by whatever witchcraft he currently holds over you. there’s a deadliness to the way his lips part from your own only to begin a seamless descent down your jaw and the expanse of your neck, a poisonous element to the way his hand once again finds itself clutching the meat of your thigh.

the moment his fingertips meet the bottom of your shorts, you’re wishing you’d never slipped them on in the first place, every fibre of your being growing angsty under the weight of his suddenly halted hand. it stays still for an immeasurable amount of time, grazing over the bottom of your shorts occasionally while he continues to mouth at your neck.

like mosses and the great sea, san parts your legs with little to no effort, creating a pathway for his fingers to travel further up your thigh. blunt fingernails drag up your skin, a trail of goosebumps being left behind, a visible marking of where he’s touching you.

his movements halt too soon for your liking, too much distance between his lithe fingers and your body’s very core.

“have you figured out what i want yet, pretty?” his voice is a stark difference to the usual light-hearted, almost squeak-like tone you’ve grown used to hearing from the smiley boy. right now, there’s no trace of humour in the thick rasp and there’s no time for smiling while he’s glaring down at you through hooded eyes.

something compels you to nod your head, even though you’re a little too lost in the thoughts concerning what you want, rather than what the devil incarnate by your side wants.

“you have?” the words come out in a layer of amazement, and you have to wonder if it’s because of the lie you’ve just told or the way your legs have closed in around his hand, trapping it between them. “i want to know what you want, though.”

you want his thumb to stop stroking over the flesh of your inner thigh.

you want his eyes to stop gazing down at you like you’re the perfect prey.

you want him to stop teetering your impending pleasure on a string.

you want-

“you.” is all you manage to breath out.

it seems to do the trick, however, your point getting very much across to him. a softness flickers over his features, brows unfurling and smirk curling up into a full smile for what feels like an eternity, but is actually no more than a couple of seconds before his devilish aura is back.

lips meet lips again, the desperation and force behind each stroke of his tongue against yours the same as before. san, much to your delight, seems to grow just as impatient as you’ve been since the moment he welcomed himself into the empty space next to you on the bench.

one hand still resting between your thighs, his other seizes the opportunity to drag your body closer, so close that you have no choice but to swing one leg over him and slot yourself in his lap.

there was one time, in the middle of what you’ve deemed to be the most boring lecture ever, that you had thought about what it would feel like to sit in choi san’s lap. unintentionally, of course, for how could anyone look over at him in those grey sweatpants, legs manspreading like it was nobody’s business and pen tapping away at the table in front of him, and not daydream about being perched in his lap, head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his soft hair?

you’d imagined him to be the embodiment of soft and comfortable, warm and reassuring the way he’d lazily lay an arm over your hip to make sure there’s no risk of you slipping out of your new seat. you never, for the life of you, imagined you’d feel the outline of his dick resting against your ass the first time you finally claimed your throne.

choosing to not dwell on the heavy feeling of him pressed against you, you choose instead to focus on the way his lips trail away from yours and make their descent towards the top of your chest.

his hand abandons post between your thighs and rises to the surface, where long fingers begin to pull at the straps of your red swimsuit, successfully manoeuvring the nylon material till it’s bunched around your midriff and your breasts are exposed to the damp air of the swimming hall. 

with no want left to play around, he dives right in to dragging his lips down the upper swell of your left breast. you imagine he can feel the beating of your racing heart beneath the goosebump littered skin. it doesn’t take long for his tongue to enter the scene, skilfully flicking over your hardened nipple a couple times before enveloping his mouth around the bud.

one, two, three sucks and he’s moving on to your right breast. there’s no lead up, this time, simply his mouth finding delight in toying with your body while he busies his hand with your left side, thumb and pointer finger rolling and tugging and spreading the remnants of his saliva over your heated skin.

the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and has you arching your own, is the faintest pressure of his teeth biting down on you. it dances on a thin line between pleasurable and painful, exhilarating enough to make you throw your head back as a moan slips past your lips. it echoes in the empty room, replaying your own sound for both of you to hear again and again before the chain is broken by a giggle.

his giggle.

“why are,” he picks the right time to trail his fingers down your body, dragging your swimsuit with them till it sits uncomfortably tight around the top of your hipbones, skintight fabric digging into the damp skin. “you laughing?”

“has anyone ever told you how pretty your tits are?” it’s crude and heartwarming all at once, quite like the man who says it and the little smile he shoots up in your direction as he rolls his tongue over your nipple once again.

“no, i can’t say they have.” the hands that have been resting on his shoulder, grasping them in a vice grip in fear of slipping off of him and and directly onto the concrete floor, gain enough confidence for you let one slide around to the back of his neck and thread your fingertips in the back of his locks, hair as soft as you’ve always imagined it to be. “you’re the first.”

“i’ll wear that title with honour,” he seems to delight in the way you’re carding through his hair, eyes closing while he tilts his head back further into your touch. a delighted sigh follows. “has anyone ever asked you to sit on their face?”

“again, no.”

“another honourable title for me, i guess.” san’s giving you whiplash, with all this switching between being his usual goofy self and the man that minutes before was speaking profanities on how you’d looked choking on his dick. he peaks his eyes open again, slowly, adjusting to the bright lights he stares up at each time he’s doing the backstroke. when he has the nerves to smile at you, all dreamy eyed and relaxed sitting beneath your body on the bench. “now, can you please stand up and get naked so you can fuck yourself on my tongue?”

this time, it’s your laugh that echoes in the air.

“stop, i’m being serious!” he seems to whine his way through his words, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a way you’re certain is going to drive you insane. “i can’t go another second like this, you literally sitting on my dick, without blowing my load. and i really don’t feel like having to explain to coach kwon why my team speedos are stained in cum.”

“you’re so-” you give up on trying to find a single word to describe him, knowing there’s no word that can quite capture choi san’s essence. “okay, okay, fine, but you kind of need to let go of me for me to, y’know, stand up.”

“oh, sorry bout that.” san’s sheepish smile shouldn’t be this cute, not when it’s followed by him removing his hands from your half-naked body.

reluctant, your feet meet the ground and you stand up from his lap. he seems to move quicker than you, no hesitation to be seen as he twists his body around and lays along the bench on his back, eyes all the while watching you expectantly.

your fingers are far from as nimble as his, and there’s a shake to them, meaning you’re a lot less slick with how you pull the swimsuit off yourself. you opt for killing two birds with one stone, dragging your shorts down alongside the red suit, till both are pooled around your feet and you’re begging with every cell in your body that you look more graceful than you feel, stepping out of the leg holes.

in all honesty, you’re more embarrassed with the fact he’d watched you remove your clothes than with how you’re now stood naked, legs a little shaky and the wetness gathering between your folds you’re suddenly so much more aware of, the cool air fighting against your pulsating heat.

“well?” san speaks with expectation, legs bent at the knee while the balls of his feet rest on the edge of the bench. “are you gonna just stand there or you gonna sit on my face?”

“are you... sure you want me to?” even you feel the idiocy behind asking such a thing, when he’s laying right there with eyes full of glee and a raging boner pressed against his hip, nothing but the familiar colours of your college to stop you from seeing him all his naked glory. still, you can’t help elaborating. “i mean, the bench isn’t exactly sturdy and, i mean, what if i slip off of you?”

“y/n, are you joking? you have to be joking!” his offence is playful enough to ease a little of the hesitation inside of you. “do you see these puppies, baby? these are my mad gains from flailing my silly little arms around in a pool six days a week!”

you think this can’t be real as you watch the golden boy of the school put on a show, flexing his arms in an effort to display his muscles and voicing the most ridiculous words that not even he seems to be taking seriously, a bubble of laughter popping in every sentence.

“i’m not gonna let you slip, now hurry up!” again with the whining.

“god, you’re so desperate!”

“for you? always.”

the following minute is made up of wobbled steps and a poor attempt at amping yourself up, repeating mantra after mantra in your head that you are the sex goddess and no man is going to make you feel nervous. not even if that man has a jaw one could slice diamonds with.

he’s got a firm grasp of your thighs before you’ve even got the chance to get comfortable, legs a little shaky as you hover over his naked chest and will your knees to find grip on the bench beneath them.

“come closer, my tongue’s not that long!” san’s pulling you up, closer, all the way to where his wanton mouth awaits you. as if to give you a preview of what awaits you, the kisses from before reduced to nothing, his tongue pops out to run over the smooth of his bottom lip. you repeat the process of trying to find balance, a position in which you don’t need to worry about toppling overboard. though, with the way his finger squeeze into your thigh, you doubt you’ll have to worry about that truly happening. “comfortable?”

“as i’ll ever be.”

“all the people that would die to be in your position, and you say that?” he tsks, tongue hitting off the roof of his mouth before a blow of air hits against your folds and, though it’s faint from the distance still between his mouth and where he wants it to be, it sends a jolt of excitement up your spine. “i’ll just have to make sure i over-perform, make you more eager for next time.”

neither of you choose to dwell on the words next time.

him, too occupied with getting his first taste, tongue licking a strip up your core and coming to a stop as the tip of it bumps against your clit.

you, too busy having the air knocked out of your lungs, hand unconsciously finding safety in gripping his hair as you lurch forward momentarily, mouth falling open in a quiet gasp that echoes around and around.

“hmm, make sure you hold on tight.” you know he’s teasing you, with his words, and with his eyes, and with his mouth that seems to find enjoyment in trailing itself over your clitoral hood and up your pubic bone. “you smell mouthwatering, you know? enough to make a man go feral.”

the chance to reply never comes, not when san makes his way back down to your clit and greets it with the stroke of his flattened tongue. every tiny nerve sparks to life under his touch and you feel yourself grow wetter, a wave of warm arousal leaking out of your hole. his tongue dives down to welcome it, not allowing more than a single drop- landing on his chin- to go to waste.

you don’t even notice the lack of his grip around your left leg until you feel it: the first few seconds of his fingertips probing around your soaked cunt, coating themselves in your liquid pleasure until it’s dripping down the back of his hand.

the first finger to enter your hole is gentle, tentative to the way your body receives him, his pointer and ring finger keeping your folds spread and allowing him the full view of the middle one slowly disappearing from sight, burying itself in the warmth of your pussy. distracted, his mouth pulls back and his head meets the bench again while his eyes soak in the sight above him, flickering up to catch your reaction when another finger enters you, this time with a lot less care as it forces you open around it.

“so pretty,” he mutters the words, more to himself than to you, delighting as he witnesses you struggling to bite back a pathetic moan when his digits curl within you. he repeats the action a couple times, flicking his wrist back and forth, fingers brushing over your tight walls each time and culminating in a curl that has him pressing against the spongy-like flesh inside. “so, so pretty.”

your hips begin to rut against his hand, meeting every one of his thrusts with perfect timing that has him reaching deeper, further, better places inside of you. all the while he’s just watching and admiring the furrow in your brow and the way the swells of your breast bounce in sync with you.

your pussy clenches tighter and his fingers fight to reach deeper before spreading themselves wider in an attempt to scissor you open. he’s giving it his all, a third finger slipping in despite the dull ache setting in his wrist while he coaxes you closer and closer to the tipping point.

san takes just as easy as he gives, and it’s that fact alone that drives him to pull his hand back, fingers withdrawing from you and the pleasure you’re pursuing.

“why’d you-” you heave through heavy breaths, brain fuzzy from the unvoiced orgasm you were so close to having, every nerve ready to tingle, every muscle ready to tremble, every toe ready to curl. “stop?”

“because,” the wet smack of his fingers hitting against your clit is louder than the whimper that drops from your mouth. san hears both, however, and grins, quickly landing another smack against your engorged clit. “the goal is to make you cum on my face, not my fingers. consider them the appetiser, something to awaken your senses.”

his tongue licks in an upward motion, starting from the tip of your taint and ending at your clit, and you get deja-vu to just minutes before, when you’d first felt his tongue on your melting skin, the saliva it leaves in a trail behind it serving to cool you down. a shiver runs up your spine as he blows air onto your cunt, the pressure of it doing wonders to stimulate your clit.

“would you stop?”

“look who’s whining now.” san, despite what he says, does as you ask and puts an end what feels like unending teasing- really, it’s hardly been a minute but the pulsing of your heat and the loss of a climax leave you no room to think about something as abstract as time.

his lips make a victorious return, wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking against the pulsing nub. every so often, he delivers a couple kitten licks- ups and downs, sides to sides, figure eights- before swiftly returning to kissing your most intimate parts.

in an attempt to make your toes curl, he dips lower and teases the tips of his tongue over your entrance, wet muscle moving over wet skin and tastebuds covering themselves in your essence, till the moans echoing off the walls are indistinguishable between san’s and your own.

“you can move,” he grunts into you after a few minutes of repeated alternating between kissing your clit and tonguing at your hole. it’s muffled with the way he’s holding you down against his face and you feel his lips brush against your lower ones as he speaks. “need you to move. wanna see you use me, pretty.”

and, who are you to deny the man?

you’re hesitant at first, just like you were all those weeks ago as you sank to your knees for him. you test the waters and give a single roll of your hips. it feels good, great, especially when paired with his own efforts at dragging his tongue over you.

it takes a few more attempts, and san’s patience wearing thin to the point he resorts to grabbing a firm hold of your arse cheeks and planting you flat on his mouth, tongue flat and eyes staring up at you in a demand to move, goddamn it. 

move you most certainly do, grinding down on his tongue like you’ve done many a time with different men’s cocks. it’s messy, sloppy in the way that his spit mingles with your wetness, a cocktail of fluids sliding down his throat, and painting his lips, and dribbling down his chin as he eats you like a man starved that’s alas getting a taste of the sweetest fruit.

the rhythm of your hips is thrown off when the man beneath you switches from having you grinding down onto his flattened tongue to slipping the muscle inside of your hole, thrusting it as far as up as the length of it allows him to. with every time your body comes crashing down on his mouth, the tip of his nose bumps against your clit, forcing you to angle yourself upwards to gain more of the friction.

hands find hair, lips part in unabashed moans, thighs shake with the oncoming of an orgasmic state of mind.

the moment builds too quickly, too unexpectedly, like the ghost of your stolen climax is back with a vengeance and set on ensuring there will be no denying it this time.

“s-shit,” your eyes squeeze shut, too scared to look down at his ecstasy filled eyes in fear of it being what finally tips you over the edge. “i’m gonna- ah- gonna cum.”

san pays no mind to your warning. if anything, he takes it as a challenge, an invisible timer beginning in his head and forcing him to see how quickly he can get you to unravel all over his face. he’s getting everything he asked for, your naked body a mess above him as you fuck yourself on his tongue and your hands, with minds of their own, sliding up to grab and squeeze at your tits.

he watches how the pastel blue nail polish clashes with the darkened colour of your abused nipples, fingers working to pinch, and twist, and pull at them as you lose yourself in the moment.

when you cum, it’s with rolled-back eyes and shaky thighs, his hands gripping at you tighter to steady you as you sway above him, his tongue working at coaxing you through your high.

he licks up every drop of cum he can manage, until you’re cringing in overstimulation and reaching down to push him away. he let’s you move him, mouth moving to trail a couple kisses over your inner thigh, something akin to lipstick stains- yet so much dirtier in nature- being left behind on your soft flesh.

“told you i wouldn’t let you fall,” he’s the first to speak, partly because he correctly thinks you’re incapable of forming anything coherent in the afterglow of your orgasm, but mostly because he wants- no, needs to hear you praise him.

needs to hear you praise him like he’d done for you that night, eyes still hooded and chest visibly heaving as he finished processing watching you swallow every spurt of hot cum he’d shot down your throat. the praise never comes.

well, at least not from you.

at first he thinks he’s imagining the sound of clapping. it’s slow, and booming, and tinted with the slightest hint of sarcasm. it grows louder though, far too loud for it to just be in his imagination. the stilling of your body, going rigid as you fall back onto his chest, the sticky remnants of your orgasm cold against his heated skin, confirms that you hear the clapping too.

“bravo, choi. always thought your reputation with the ladies was a little overhyped, but i stand corrected.”

never has he hated the sight of park seonghwa so much, not even in the times they’ve been head-to-head in the final lap and the older male’s offensively bright swim-cap is all san can see every time he twists his head to catch a breath of air.

the three swimmers stand on the opposite end of the swimming pool, all in various stages of undress.

there’s wooyoung, who looks like he’s not so much as dried himself with a towel, still dressed in his team swimwear. and yunho, who’s got a towel wrapped around his waist messily, hair damp against his forehead and likely smelling of the cheap shampoo provided in the locker-room showers. lastly, seonghwa, who’s seemingly fully dressed spar for one of those irritating long coats san always sees him trailing around campus in.

one look into your panicked eyes is enough for san to spring into action, fumbling to sit himself up and pull your body flush against his, facing your naked back in the direction of his rivals.

he bites back a groan as you shift in his lap, unknowingly- or maybe you do know- pressing your soaked centre against his erection, which already strains inside the confines of the nylon material, leaving very little to the imagination.

“do you mind?” he’s glad the words come out clearly, booming across the pool at them and their unwavering staring.

“not at all.”

san holds you tighter against him, eyeing at your discarded swimsuit on the floor as he listens to a shuffle of footsteps. assuming the three men have made their way back into the locker-room, he’s speechless when he looks up to find them approaching the bench, seonghwa leading the trio with a secure grip on the back of wooyoung’s neck, whose eyes can’t seem to leave the floor, while yunho trails a little behind them, one hand grasping onto the towel around him.

“get your hands off her!” he leans back, pulling you with him, in an attempt to stray out of seonghwa’s reach as he extends his hand out. he fails, however, and the tips of seonghwa’s elongated fingers brush over your shoulder.

a shiver runs down you, one that san feels, the unexpected touch tickling your nerves.

“she’s a grown up,” the eldest of the men muses as he builds a rhythm out of how his fingers soother over your sweat slicked skin. “who i’m sure can speak for herself if she wants my hands off her.”

out of all the men, seonghwa has always been the one san despised most. between the constant boasting of wealth- money he acquired through labor, though not the working kind- and the disrespect he’s never had a problem showing towards others, he never fails to strike a nerve, awakening a dark part of san’s brain that activates his fight or flight response. by far, however, his arrogance is the worst, that sense of entitlement that drives him to think everything and everyone is a piece of clay for him to mold and manipulate till they fit his ideal shape.

the rich boy’s hand smoothes over your naked shoulder and san can’t resist glaring up at him.

“c’mon san, now’s hardly the time to be modest,” behind the oldest swimmer, yunho and wooyoung seem to be battling an inner conflict, yunho fighting to keep his towel in place and wooyoung fighting to keep the shame off his face while his dick visibly strains against the confines of his chlorine-covered swimwear. “not after the show you two just put on.”

“we didn’t,” it’s the first time you manage to speak since covering san’s tongue in your cum, breathing at last steady and face hidden from everyone’s view, much to san’s despair. “know you were watching.”

“and, if you had known, would you have stopped?” yunho is the one asking the question and, suddenly, san’s so much more aware of what exactly he’s hiding underneath his towel.

you give no answer.

“of course she wouldn’t,” seonghwa answers for you, hand moving to grasp the back of your neck. with no warning, he grips a little too tight for comfort and and yanks you backwards, till you’re staring right into san’s eyes and the only thing keeping you perched in his lap is seonghwa’s body pressed flat against yours. “there’s nothing a whore loves more than an audience, right?”

if put on trial in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, over whether or not you’d just clenched around nothing at park seonghwa’s degrading name, you’d plead that you never did such a thing.

you’d be found guilty.

“poor woo nearly came untouched just watching you two. isn’t that right?” the eldest turns to stare back at where you imagine wooyoung to be. “pretty boy nearly whined just at the thought of being in san’s position, a mouth full of cunt and someone using him like the fuck-toy he is.”

the air grows thick, between you, and san, and every other living being in the room. it feels like the walls are closing in on themselves with every second that passes, the sweat dripping down your back and coming to a rest between your arse cheeks evidence that the space is heating up. or maybe it’s just your body, hardly processing the high it’s just come down from and there’s already another source for a new-found arousal, a source in the shape of three muscular men stood behind you and one beneath you, eyes wary as he gazes into your own, like he wants to ask if you’re okay but all the blood is too busy circulating in his crotch for his brain to be productive.

“now, i hardly think it’s very nice of you to get our wooyoung all riled up and not even offer to help him out.” you decide you’re being lulled into a false sense of safety the second you feel the pressure of seonghwa’s hand leave your skin. behind you, there’s a shuffling of footsteps that call you to crane your neck and catch a glimpse of what exactly is going on but san’s eyes beg you to keep staring into his, to count the galaxies that dance within them while he grips at your waist. “so the chance to offer is off the table and you’re simply going to do as told. doesn’t that sound easier, hmm? no having to make pesky decisions, just spread those legs and follow orders.”

at last, you get your first glimpse at jung wooyoung.

he sits down on the bench, no more than a breath of space between where you and san are perched. he’s a vision in himself, shoulders hunched and embarrassed face the same shade of red as the tip of his cock, an angry looking bulbous head poking out the top of far-too-tight speedos.

san’s grip tightens the longer you stare at the other boy, gaze dancing over the shape of his body and mouth-watering as, for the first time, you see the appeal of jung wooyoung. never before have you understood why eyes follow him in the hallways, like he’s more than just another pretty boy on campus- something that’s in abundance. but you see it now, understand the appeal of his stand-out nose; and the veins that run down his arms; and floppy style to his hair, that seems to be calling out to have your fingers running through it. 

with no prior warning, the grip on your hips tightens even more, till san is digging crescents into the soft skin and he’s lifting you, off of his lap and right into wooyoung’s.

the usually boisterous boy’s eyes meet yours, no longer filled with that spark of defiance and, instead, glazed over in tears, a quiet pleading being exchanged between you.

only, you’re unsure what he’s begging of you.

“are you going to just sit there,” seonghwa speaks up, boredom in his tone that has you picturing him rolling his eyes and picking at his manicured nails. “or are you going to help the poor pup cum?”

“what?!” that certainly helps you find your voice, and the guts to turn around and look at the man.

you find him stood closer than you imagined, with tailored trousers hugging his thighs and a perfectly ironed shirt tucked into them, the last few messy buttons the only indication he’d rushed to dress himself. eyes looking past him, you find more of a friendly aura in yunho, who, despite fighting a battle against the towel wrapped around his figure, manages to shoot a smile at you.

and then there’s san, who stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and a painfully obvious boner resting in the confines of his swimwear, though he’s done a better job at keeping himself concealed than the boy beneath you. his face appears indifferent, yet the twitch in his eye speaks of a tamed anger, a frustration he’s yet to unleash on the men who’d interrupted him amidst his feast.

“are you now deaf along with being dumb or something?” the eldest pulls your attention back to him with little effort, a smirk meeting the glare you shoot his way. “you made that brat hard, now do your job and fix the mess you’ve made.”

words of protest get lost in a surprised gasp as the boy in question takes your hand in his, veiny hand guiding you down to a veiny shaft. wooyoung wraps both of your fingers over his leaking cock, his holding yours in place around him while he ruts his hips up once, twice into your hold, the action sending his swimwear even further down the his length and exposing nearly the full sight of it to the swimming hall.

you don’t mean to compare, yet you’re incapable of ignoring the fact that while wooyoung may be on the slightly shorter side compared to san, he’s certainly leading in the thickness department, with a mushroomed head and the prettiest trail of trimmed hairs leading down his pelvis.

he guides you over his shaft a number of times, a little less shy now as he outwardly whines when your thumb runs over his tip, wiping away the fat bead of precum resting upon it. at some point, he moves his hand away, needing both of his free to lean back on the bench, yet yours keeps moving at it’s own volition, stroking him in a pattern of threes, interrupting every trio with a swipe over his tip or a fondle of his still-concealed balls.

“please,” the whine in his voice is so unlike the jung wooyoung you’ve watched week after week, hurling abuse and echoing boasts of his own talents while keeping himself afloat in the swimming pool.

“he asked nicely.” you’d just about forgotten about everyone else in the room, until seonghwa’s irritatingly unbothered voice serves to remind you of his presence. “rule number one: good behaviour is rewarded.”

“what do i,” you interrupt your own question to glance over wooyoung once more. “do?” you pinch your thigh, skin stinging as nails bite it, and confirm with yourself that this is not a dream but, in fact, very much real.

jung wooyoung is hard and begging you to do something.

“i don’t care how you do it, just put one of your holes to good use for once and make him cum.”

there’s still an echo of seonghwa’s voice by the time you successfully manage to rid wooyoung of his swimwear, the damp fabric clinging to the warm skin and the taut muscles of his thighs. the boy isn’t much help either, seemingly reduced to nothing but a writhing, panting mess instead of someone competent enough to raise himself off the bench just enough for you to undress him.

the sight is mesmerising, one you’re certain will remain ingrained in your memory till the day you die: wooyoung, disheveled and untouched, with his achingly hard cock pressed flat against his lower stomach, his swimmer-thighs spread with a set of balls between them that you find yourself near salivating over as a trickle of his own precum runs down them.

“your cock’s...” you begin to speak, yet trail off as your digits wrap themselves around his shaft, just to delight in the way his breath jumps when you drag your hand upwards and give a soft squeeze as you reach the head. “so pretty, woo.”

“youngie.” seonghwa cuts in from behind you. “he prefers to be called youngie when he’s getting his cock teased.”

“yeah, youngie?” you try it out.

instantly, he nods and something akin to a whimper flies out of him.

fascinated by his shaky breaths and his pretty chest, where warm, tanned skin appears to be near glowing under the swimming halls bright lights as his cheeks flush a palette full of reds and pinks, your eyes are completely fixed on him. there’s something vulnerable and breakable about the way he’s looking at your with the widest of eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip receiving countless abuse from his teeth.

never have you been so desperate to push someone past their own limits.

officially running on nothing but pure instincts, you close your mind off to thoughts, like how the boy you’d spent weeks avoiding and missing is stood only metres away, witnessing the way the tip of your finger teases over the slit of his sport rival’s cock. or like how park seonghwa, perhaps the campus’ most infamous trust-fund baby, seems to have complete control of the situation at hand, yourself and jung wooyoung nothing but idolised dolls he’s moving into whatever obscene position he wants you in.

instead, you focus on how wooyoung’s eyes roll back and he lets out a gasp when you gather up fluids from within your salivating mouth and part your own lips, watching how your own spit drips onto his lower stomach, and your hand, and his painfully hard cock.

the saliva serves not only as a visual pleasure, something that’s awakening inside of you at the sight of it leaving you with whole new kind of excitement bubbling along your body, but as a physical pleasure for wooyoung, who seems to have no protest to how much easier it is to slide your hand up his length with the added lubrication of your own spit. 

“fuck...” he curses under his breath and his hands find purchase on your body, one gripping your hip while the other grabs at your forehand, like he’s scared you’ll release the grip you have on him and strip away the sweet release of friction. “don’t just focus on the tip- shit, ah- play with my balls too.”

“wooyoung!” ready to oblige, ready to give the pretty faced boy anything he demanded of you, you’ve no time to think of a reply before the ringmaster of this circus reminds you of his overlooking presence behind your back. “stop speaking like an ungrateful brat and take what you’re given. or else... well, i’m sure you don’t need reminding of what happens to pups that misbehave.”

the way jung wooyoung’s whole body grows rigid beneath you, paired with the countless times park seonghwa has butted in to speak on the boy’s sexual preferences, leaves you with the sense that the two are not only acquainted with how each other’s bodies move underwater..

“s-sorry,” this is not the voice of boastful jung wooyoung, who near bounces down the college halls and airdrops nudes in class because he’s bored. this is a voice that’s soft and meek. like a beady-eyed puppy, so quick to submit to it’s owner. “just feels too good. i’m sorry”

“yeah, you will be sorry.” seonghwa’s hand is cold against your back and it lulls a shiver out of you as fingers trickle down your spine like water off a duck’s wings. part of you hates him for stealing wooyoung’s attention off of you just as you were beginning to revel in it, a larger part of you wants to know why the sternness in his voice is enough to have your clit aching to be touched. “spitfire, be a good cocksleave and sit on his dick.”

“ok, stop!” a sense of shame comes over you when it takes hearing san’s outburst to remember the fact he’s watching the scene unfold. “don’t you think you’re taking this too far now, park seonghwa? i know you and wooyoung have your... agreement on how you treat each other, but don’t drag someone else into it. not when she never even asked for this.”

“you had your tongue tasting the eighth wonder of the world on that bench twenty minutes ago, both of you knowing there was a chance you’d be caught, and you want to tell me no one was asking for this?”

“that was private! you guys are the ones who-”

“there’s no such thing as privacy in a public area. besides, it’s hardly like she’s not enjoying this. if anything, i think spitfire doesn’t like the way you’re getting in the way of her teaching youngie a lesson in obedience.” you’re naive to think no one would notice the way you’ve began to grind down on wooyoung’s cock, stealing whimpers out of him as the soaked lips of your pussy rubbed up against him and holding back your own moans each time his tip meets the bundle of nerves that make up your clit. “choi, if you’re that much of a pissy pants that can’t enjoy himself even just this once in life, then feel free to leave. i’m sure the four of us will be too occupied to notice your absence.”

you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out if san’s newfound silence is due to his departure, or if he’s simply too stunned to speak, your eyes focused on nothing and no one but the boy at your mercy.

the initial burn of wooyoung breaching your entry reminds you of how long it’s been since you’d been stretched open by something other than someone’s cold fingers or wagging tongue. it’s been more or less three long months of juggling test after test, assignments piling up on your desktop and a relationship with your now ex-boyfriend being tossed completely into the gutter.

not once had you thought your return to the world of sexual bliss would be in front of an audience, much less at the very place you work.

doubting that it’s been as long for him as it has for you, wooyoung still spares nothing when it comes to reacting to your touch. with eyes squeezing shut, head rolling back, abdomen muscles flexing along side every shaken intake of breath, the boy puts on a show so pornographic it puts the professionals to shame. a whine exits his lips, lips that carry marks of his own teeth and look like they’re in need of a healthy dose of chapstick, and look so disgustingly kissable that your own tingle at the thought.

all those rumours of jung wooyoung being a camboy rush to the forefront of your mind, feeling truer than ever when your eyes take in the bob of his adam’s apple, and the perfectly timed run of his tongue over his lower lip, and the pretty way in which the prominent veins in his hands looks as he clamps his grip down on your hips.

he’s a sight worth paying for. 

“are you okay?” not the first thing you’d imagined saying after sinking all the way down on his cock, the need to check up on him taking over before you’d even noticed it’s existence.

“yeah...” he sighs his way through the word, eyes still closed and grip still very much tight on your skin, blunt fingertips likely leaving crescent moons you’ll find yourself staring at for days to come, memories of this moment replaying in a rose-tinted haze. “just need a second, you- you feel good, fuck me.”

“i’m kinda already doing that, youngie.” you giggle, like a lovesick adolescent speaking to their crush of the week, but the boy’s instant smile upon hearing it puts out the fire of shame building in the pit of your stomach.

“hmm,” he hums back, acknowledging your words without giving you the satisfaction of hearing him tell you how you’re correct. “are you okay?”

wooyoung flips the question on you and it parallels with the way he pulls the rains in physically, lithe hips thrusting upwards in search of feeling more, reaching deeper inside of you. in the back of your mind you already picture a look of displeasure on park seonghwa’s face, scowling lips loading up to berate you and demand you take repossession of jung wooyoung’s sanity.

“yeah, i’m-” with the eldest man in mind, you stop and compose yourself, as well as you can while wooyoung’s mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts. “i’m wondering who told you you were allowed to touch me?”

control is easily regained, all it takes is your hand squeezing around jung wooyoung’s throat and your soaked walls clenching around his aching cock and he’s melting like ice cream on a warm summer’s day, leaving behind a sticky mess.

satisfaction and pleasure come crashing in tandem, wave after wave moving in motion with each lethargic roll of your body against the swimmer’s, who seems to be a quicker learner than you’d believed him to be, hands flying off your body like it was made up of hot stones and, instead, now holding a firm and grounding grip of the bench beneath you both.

“harder.” you feel a hint of emotion within park seonghwa’s voice this time he speaks. it’s fleeting, and hard to make out quite what feeling it is he’s experiencing, but it’s there and it’s certainly a step up from the usual shameless, egotistical, megalomaniac tone he takes on. “squeeze his throat tighter.”

under the possession of his commanding tone, you find yourself caving into his command, fingers pressing a little harder into wooyoung’s warm skin. the boy gulps down whatever pride he has and delivers a pleasured whine. you grind down harder and an evil, twisted part of you you’ve never met before longs to laugh at the way he so desperately is struggling to keep his composure, fighting back the urge to meet your hips with his own upward thrusts.

so, you do. 

“hear that, youngie?” seonghwa’s voice becomes less grating each time you hear it, once an unwelcome and intrusive thought but now a second voice and a valued player in a game of wreck the wooyoung. “you’re being laughed at. isn’t that just pathetic?”

“y-yes, fuck-” he falls victim to your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock in a vice grip. the image of confidence withers away so easily to reveal a teary-eyed, pretty-faced, cum-desperate man. “i’m pathetic.”

“yeah, you are.” seonghwa circles his way around the rocking bench, no longer out of view hidden behind your back but, instead, staring you down with piercing eyes that cut through you like a knife to hot butter. “he’s getting close. never lasts long, really, even seen him cum untouched just from giving me head. but that’s okay, isn’t it youngie? you’re a slut for having your sack drained, huh?”

the swimmer beneath you has never looked redder than he does right now, secrets of his sexual nature getting exposed to the people he likely considers his biggest athletic competition. though you probably should, you don’t push him away when his face finds safety in the crook of your neck, parted lips covering your burning skin in sticky drool.

“don’t let him fool you guys, he’s into the degrading nature of it all. trust me.” you wonder if it should concern you the way seonghwa speaks about jung wooyoung as though he’s nothing but a pet, a possession of which he just so happens to have complete control over. you’re more concerned with the fact it excites you. “call him a good boy, i dare you.”

the words haven’t even formed in your throat and the boy between your thighs is gripping onto your waist a little tighter, lips near pouting and eyes screwed shut in uncontrollable pleasure, burning down his spine and threatening to push him over the edge of sexual bliss.

you consider having mercy, the inexperienced side of you thinking the boy looks like he’s full of shame and embarrassment. the throbbing of his rock hard cock repeatedly stuffing your aching cunt reminds you he’s getting off on the humiliation.

“is he a good boy, though?” you stare up at park seonghwa, not even sparing a whimpering wooyoung any attention as he begins a rambled protest to defend his good behaviour. “i mean, i don’t remember telling him he could touch me. do you, hwa?”

the hands that grip you tightly let go quick, like your skin were an unexpectedly warm stove, scorching his skin right off him.

“i don’t remember either,” the eldest’s agreement has you reeling in a way you never expected, filling you with a new found sense of control.

a control that is ripped away far too quickly, like park seonghwa sensed you growing falsely confident over the situation at hand.

like a shark circling it’s prey, the tall man makes his way back around the bench, each fall of his shoe-covered feet echoing in the quiet swim hall. click, click, click, and he’s right at your back, not a word uttered as the soft of his palm lands on the nape of your neck. achingly slow does it travel down the expanse of your back, not a single noise filling the space other than the rise and fall of your body on top of wooyoung’s and the same boy’s poorly contained moans and mewls of pleasure.

the silence is interrupted by your own shocked gasp, mouth falling agape in shock as your movements come to a complete halt. his hands, no longer soft and delicate, grip you in an iron-tight hold, fingers greedy as they dig into your meaty flesh with no mercy or regard for the pain it may inflict on you.

“no, get up,” like a switch was flipped in as little as a minute, park seonghwa’s voice has lost all sense of the excitement it had whilst he spoke on jung wooyoung’s dirty endeavours and has returned back to the cold, callous, commanding tone it had originally.

he sounds angry, feels angry in the way the fingers of his free hand tangle themselves in the hair at the back of your head and give a harsh tug, forcing your head back till you’re met with his scowling face and perfectly groomed hair, even in it’s dampened state it seems to frame his face perfectly.

“what?” you babble out, dumbstruck, much like the desperate boy beneath you who’s began to mutter apology after apology between pleadings of please no don’t do this and i promise i’ll behave, i’ll keep my hands to myself.

none of it works.

“you heard me. get. up.” the fingers on your waist tug, pull, drag you away from the quivering mess that has become of jung wooyoung, who near sobs as the cool air hits his now painfully hard cock, tip redder than the bottom of your favourite heels and a vein more prominent under his sensitive skin than the ones on his muscular arms. you’re not given much of a chance to process what’s happening before seonghwa speaks again. “wooyoung, up, now. you’re not getting to cum, so get off the bench and make room for someone else.”

the boy makes no further attempt to protest, cheeks painted pink in shame and chest shining with sweat as he shakily rises to his feet, head hung low when you watch him walk out of your line of sight.

then, your knees meet the floor.

park seonghwa chuckles as you go down, hands finding grip in your hair and forcing you to sit up right. heart beating faster, your mind begins to race with questions of what comes next, who comes next.

what dirty desires are about to be unveiled within you, forced into the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the swimming hall?

“jeong, you’re up,” seonghwa’s knee digs into your back and his fingers tug until your scalp begins to sting a little. you don’t want to like it but, in life, you don’t always get what you want.

there’s a series of shuffles behind you, followed by heavy footsteps. there’s no rush, yet no hesitation, just calm and collected footsteps of someone making their way over to do god knows what with you.

when jeong yunho, with his towel that’s looking a lot tighter around his crotch still around his waist, steps into frame, an inexplicable sense of comfort washes over you.

maybe it’s the way he smiles down at you, or the fact his hands brush seonghwa’s off of you, or the way his fingers take a hold of your chin once he’s seated in front of you.

maybe it’s just the fact he’s jeong yunho, campus himbo with a reputation for walking girls home at night just to make sure they’re safe and for singing britney spears with no shame each time the karaoke mic gets passed around.

whatever it is, it’s turning you on.

your knees are burning with fresh pain as park seonghwa shoves you closer to the mammoth of a man and you can’t help but swallow down the ball of anxiety growing in your throat.

everything about jeong yunho’s demeanour has always seemed large, with powerful arms that drag his body through the weight of water and large hands that effortlessly carry countless textbooks through the university halls; a tall frame that helps him stand out in any crowd and a personality loud enough to set off alarms; his thighs a muscular stairway leading up to a well rounded, remarkably defined posterior. it’s safe to say he’s carried a reputation for some time, one that consists of whispers between girls on campus who recount just how well endowed he really is. 7 inches, 9 inches, 12 inches, you’ve heard it all, each girl claiming it to be bigger than the last.

unfortunately, there’s no ruler at your disposal to uncover the truth of the rumours, but you confirm he’s certainly large as you watch him undo the towel. larger than you’ve ever seen before, with a thickness to match, and two heavy looking balls decorating the base.

he wraps a hand around it and you watch how he gives a light squeeze at the head, slowly sliding down the length of it till he reaches the tuft of groomed hairs on his pelvic bone. one of his hands alone holds half of his cock, leaving you almost certain you’d need to use both hands on him.

“d’you want it, sweetheart?” his words are teasing but his voice is soft, a complete one-eighty to the verbal berating you’ve been receiving- and enjoying- from park seonghwa.

you’re sure he notices the way you clench your thighs as he slaps his cock once, then twice against his stomach, the precum leaking out on to his tanned skinned.

there’s an itch inside your throat, one you imagine only he can scratch.

“you wanna taste it?” he’s still speaking to you through the arousal that fogs over your brain, commanding your tongue to swipe over your bottom lip as you burn your gaze at the glistening liquid on his warm skin, tastebuds aching to have him paint them in white.

you nod your head.

his own throws itself back, a chuckle rupturing out of his chest as he continues to tease himself with his hand.

“fuck, yeah, bet you can’t wait to taste my cock, feel it stab the back of your tight throat.” a smile should never look so sweet while it’s part of the same mouth spewing out such filth. somehow, jeong yunho makes it work. “gonna get it nice and wet for me, yeah? make it sloppy, i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock.”

the knee that’s suddenly digging it’s way into your back has no mercy. you wince, pull in a sharp breath and inch just that little bit closer to the bench. like a glove fits a hand, you slip right in between the muscled tree trunks that make up jeong yunho’s thighs. 

you wonder, if only momentarily, what sweet a death it would be to be crushed between them, taut muscles constricting the flow of air to your lungs like a boa with its prey.

but there’s a far more preferable way to be choked by the man before you, body carved out in such definition you fear michael angelo himself stands in admiration of it.

his hand snakes its way around your body, warm and heavy and imposing with the grip it settles for at the base of your neck. in spite of the sharp stab coming from behind- where you have no doubt one park seonghwa stands with disgruntled impatience written all over his irritatingly perfect face- there is no doubt in your mind that the man in front of you holds the reigns. with eyes of honey and lips of velvet, he peers down at you with a tendered expression, saying nothing yet everything with the gentle, repeated sooth of his thumb over your skin.

you need no verbal instructions this time around.

a hand grips the base of him as the other squeezes the flesh of your own thigh, piercing your skin with just enough pressure to assure you this is the reality you find yourself in, rather than some twisted, substance influenced dream.

the first taste is the sweetest, tongue a missionary sent into the foreign land of his body to discover the way he reacts as you drag it over the tip. he gives nothing but a squeeze to the back of your neck; and that crumbles you under his control.

with a few more kitten licks- for good luck, if anything,- the show begins with the parting of your lips, the widening of your mouth, the burning of your skin as you struggle with your ability to swallow him whole. you make it no further than a third of his length before he’s tugging gently on your roots and bringing you back to the surface of existence.

“breathe, okay,” his voice is gentle, calming your nerves yet sending your heart into a fit of patternless beats. “inhale, exhale, got it? through the nose, that’s gonna help you relax.”

doing as he says, you swallow three whole breaths. shaky, ragged, each feeling hollow in your chest in comparison to the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“pretty girl,” he practically coos, hand cupping your chin as his thumb smoothes over the swell of your bottom lip. it’s tender, sweet, and almost enough to make you forget the sight of his engorged cock that sits angrily between his tree-trunk shaped thighs, crying out for the return of your mouth’s affection. “someone’s gotta teach you to not be greedy, hmm? small little mouth of yours is no fit for me, don’t go choking on it.”

heat flashes between your thighs, your heartbeat dropping right down to your clit and leaving you with a burning ache, the kind only a gentleman like this could soothe. your fingers may have to do, however, if the stubborn arsehole behind you would be so kind as to let you enjoy yourself.

the way park seonghwa curls his hand round the front of your neck and flexes his nimble fingers- that goddamn family heirloom ring a punishing cold to your warm skin, near brandishing you as touched by some nepotism child- when you do so little as clench your thighs together to relieve the pressure, or lack-there-of, between your thighs tells you he’ll grant you no such fun.

“you’d need to have something big enough for her to choke on,” san, precious san. still here, still somewhere beneath this god-forsaken tin-can roof swimming pool, watching you bruise your knees and your ego for another man, another one of his team-mates. what must he think of you? has he lost whatever respect he may have had? does he think he’d been just another body to exchange fluids with, that night at the party? if you could just see his face, you’d not need to wonder all these things. his eyes, they always give him away, too earnest and pure for his own good.

“shut it, choi,” yunho’s bark isn’t half as loud as seonghwa’s booming commands have been, and are nowhere near as malignant. if anything, the gentle giant is humoured by his team-mate’s words, as if he knows they’re a preposterous thing to say about him. then again, you can’t imagine any man remaining humble about themselves if they were so well-endowed. “or do you wanna crack out the measuring tape again and remind yourself of just how much of me there is to choke on?”

silence.

it takes a few moments for the spotlight to return to you, a gradual shift from playful to lust driven energy encapsulating the broad frame of the man before. he cups your cheek, feather-light touch smoothing over your skin while his eyes burrow daggers into your soul.

why must his shoulders be so wide? it almost angers you as much as it sends a wave of heat between your legs.

almost, but not quite.

“‘s cute,” he half mumbles, distracted by the sight you paint below him on your knees, bruises already forming and thighs clenching for some relief of pressure. “your little pussy’s all wet just from having my cock in your mouth.”

“i think you’re forgetting she was bouncing on woo’s dick a few minutes ago, yunho,” the devil on your shoulder won’t let you rest, hand snaking through the threads of your hair and tugging on your roots. not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. “have some modesty.”

“sure, let’s act like i’m not the one who had her cumming all over my face a while ago.” san mumbles a string of words you wish you could unhear, face heating up as the shame burns through your bloodstream.

how had you gotten here?

you’re allowed no such freedom to ponder over previous actions as jeong yunho’s all encompassing frame works to remind you of where you find yourself: on your knees dressed in nothing but your own shame- shame which seems to slip off of you, piece by piece, baring you shamelessly to this pack of wolf-eyed boys’ for their eyes to feast upon.

strong, veiny hands reach out and drag you forwards, just an inch yet it’s all you need to feel the weight of park seonghwa’s domineering figure float off of you, rendering you under the control of this much larger, far smilier looking man. “eyes on me, okay? don’t wanna miss the way i’m about to make them roll back.”

there begins a game of push and pull, where jeong yunho pushes you closer and closer to his evident arousal, all the while teasing you as he pulls his hips back, keeping your waiting mouth open and empty, and oh-so frustrated at the feeling of being so close yet so far away from his dripping tip.

the first real taste you get of him does, in fact, nearly have your eyes rolling back. a kitten lick, barely there yet fully felt, running over the underside of his cock, a taste of salted skin, and musky sweat, and stale chlorine mixing in with the warmth of him flooding your senses. his reaction is no more composed than yours, blatantly parting his lips in a gasp and bucking his hips up, forwards, any direction they need follow to chase after your mouth.

happy to comply, you take pride in tasting him a second time, this time right over the growing drop of pre-cum pebbling on his tip. white flashes behind your closing eyes as his grip in your hair tightens, a pulse of heat firing straight down your spine as your mind floods with images of what it must be like to watch this man, this gentleman, this figure that so wholly encompasses what it means to be a himbo in this day and age lose his cool and revolt into his most carnal, basal instincts to take whatever pleasure he needs from you with a reckless abandon, burrow his throbbing cock down your throat till the beat of his heart takes over your own.

instead, you settle for wrapping your lips around him, at last, and letting him guide you just that little bit down his length. the weight of him feels nice, a strange sense of comfort birthing in your bones as you grow used to feel of him taking up your palate. his breaths seem to run in tandem with the inches he sinks deep between your parted lips.

a deep breath, he lowers you further, till your left cheek begins to bulge out.

tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth, you make use of it as best you can, rolling it over the bottom of his shaft and earning yourself a plethora of gratifying sounds, each deep and desperate and crooning straight out of jeong yunho’s broad chest. 

another deep breath, another inch.

for all the false dominance you wield over the situation, with the heat of your mouth and spill of your own saliva slickening his cock, his real and visceral dominance doubles it by tenfold, with a hand on the back of your neck, guiding your every move, and a knowing, gentle look cast downwards at you from where he sits propped on the bench, thighs a heavy mass to case your body between. a silly little voice in your head whispers a seductive tale of how easily this man could get you in a headlock and suffocate your fragile windpipes. a wave of heat, this one going right down to your core and forcing you to pay attention to it, shifting awkwardly and clenching the muscles in your own legs in hopes of getting some pitiful amount of pressure.

all breathing stops as he hits the back of your throat.

hands pulling tight, a biting pain ripping through your hair and a tired gag creeping out of your constricting throat, yunho holds you still and strong, as unmoving as the mountains that fill the horizon from your bedroom window.

he’s not even fully in, an arguably obscene amount of him still awaiting some form of attention beyond the spill of the spit filling up your mouth. but there’s nowhere for it to go, not within your mouth at least, and so you manoeuvre your hand up and grip the neglected inches, the tip of your pinkie teasingly brushing over the swell of his balls.

he lurches forward, gasping in a breath of air at last. “fucking christ- shit,” he grits his teeth. “her mouth’s warm.”

“well, obviously. this your first time getting a blowjob or something, jeong?” god, the reminder of seonghwa being here, somewhere behind you, fox eyes judging your every move and keeping his cool, no matter how hard you’d seen his cock straining in those ridiculous pant-suit trousers he sports. it’s sickening.

“yeah, yunho, watch out before you have a repeat of 2019.”

if the taller jeong wants to snap at the other, you never find out, instead dedicating yourself to the glory of worshipping him between your parted lips and tight throat, jaw ready to lock itself in place so long as it keeps him inside.

you treat him differently than you’d treated san that night. you’d been tipsy then, buzzing off the colourful shots of who-knows-what you’d been conned into downing a half hours before, mind hazy as you kneeled between him and teased your tongue over every crevice of him it could reach, dripping him in drool and working an ache into your overused tongue by the time you got watched him spill over the edge of ecstasy. that wasn’t even about san’s pleasure, no real care put into getting him off, your own selfish need to indulge in the pleasure of feeling, tasting, worshipping him taking precedence.

but, right now, you’re overwhelmingly sober, mind hazed only by a cloud of inexplicable lust that rolled in the moment san shot you his stupid smile, and you care about making jeong yunho cum. in fact, it’s the only thing on your mind as you bob your head up and down, letting his own hand guide your pace.  

“shh, shh,” he’s hushing your own struggles for breath and carding his fingers through the tresses of your hair, his legs clamping down on either side of you, pinning you in your rightful place. “taking it so good, baby. so fucking good.”

good’s not good enough.

you want to leave him mind-blown, exhausted, unhinged. you want him clenching his jaw, and baring his teeth, and stuttering over any praise he tries to give you. in fact, you need it, need that thrill-driven lust of collapsing the sanity of a man as broad and strong and capable as him.

so you pick up the pace, fight against the steady up-and-down of his grip and try to take just that little bit more of him in your mouth and down your throat, till you’ve no doubt there’s a visible bulge of where he sits down your windpipe. you think back on what he said- i love it when a pretty thing like you gets all messy over my cock- and work towards doing just that, mouth a fountain of over-flowing spit that paints lines down your chin and over his heavy balls. the hand at his base lightly drags the tips of its nails over his burning skin and you physically feel the way his cock jumps in your mouth, head twitching as his hips involuntarily jolt forwards.

eyes as wide as a deer in headlights, you glance up to stare into his own, only to find they’re rolling back in his head, too caught up in the headiness of having your mouth on him to visually focus. it’s erotic, tracing your eyes over the protruding vein in his neck and the unrhythmic heaving of his chest- like every breath he pulls is a rare gift and a miracle- and the straining of his muscled thighs that hold back his urge to buck freely into your mouth, use you as nothing but a hole to get himself off with.

your free hand stakes claim over your own sexual frustration, nimble fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your clit in an attempt to just ease that heat burning you from the inside out.

“she’s touching herself, jeong,” not even the irritating, grating voice of park seonghwa’s unwanted commentary can take away the kick you’re getting out of working this man into a frenzy. “are you just going to let her, without your permiss-”

“shut up, park,” yunho is wrecked, voice divulging so far from that loud, boyish charm into a dark, broken sort of gruffed out thing, echoing straight out of his chest. but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to the other man, doesn’t force his eyes open to glance down in a hazed daze to witness your pathetic attempts to work your fingers over yourself.

only, he doesn’t tell you to stop.

he just... watches. and then smiles, squeezes out what can only be described as a broken whine, and tilts his head back once more, relinquishing all control of his body over to you. the scene divulging into a chorus of mumbled words, fuck and please and yes becoming the only word yunho knows, the only three you hear. 

only as he cums does jeong yunho regain that bit of self-control he’s lost, ripping your mouth off him- a stuttered mumble of i wanna paint that pretty face- and erupting in a mess of grunted moans, cock twitching in his palm as rope after rope of white, hot fluid shoots out of it. it’s messy, and disgusting, and sticky, marking the skin on your cheeks, nestling in your hair, dripping over your shut eyelashes.

the last drops land in your parted mouth as his grasp shakes and you regain the right to wrap your lips around his mushroomed tip.

lips stained in pearly white, cheeks and neck matching too. the throb of your neglected cunt, clenching itself around nothing but the mere thought of having jeong yunho stuff you full, break you in two and leave you spent.

the man in question is in a no better state, head thrown back and chest a heaving mess glistening with the shine of his own sweat. his mouth hangs open, near heaving in breaths of air and his hands, adopting a mind of their own, grip harder in your hair and hold you firmly in place, tongue laving over his sensitive tip, pushing him closer and closer to the ledge of overstimulation.

“fuck- uh, fucking look at you,” sweet voice, foul words. two fingers drag over your cheek, coating themselves in the sticky substance he’s painted you in. “drooling all over me.”

he’s right, you are drooling. down your chin, an uncomfortable damp coat covers your overheating skin as you continue to stretch your lips around his length, ready to rip another thigh-shuddering orgasm out of the man.

yunho grants you no such pleasure.

instead, a grip tugs back on your hair and, before you can feebly attempt to catch your fleeing breath, he’s pulling you up into his lap, straddling you across the well-defined muscles of his thigh. those big, capable hands he pushes himself through pools, and rivers, and all other bodies of water manipulate your limbs however he likes, a rag-doll free for him to toy with for as long as he sees fit.

“yun-” you don’t even manage to say his name properly, not when he grinds you down into his lap, smothering his tanned skin in your juices. the friction runs straight for your pulsing clit and you’re rendered to sinking into his welcoming arms, head collapsing into the crook of his neck, parted lips panting up a storm against his sweated skin.

“that nice for you, angel?” the soft words, the rough hands, the perfect roll of your hips. you feel like you could sob, break apart completely. yunho tracing a hand up the curve of your spine and soothing his long fingers over a knot in you back doesn’t help your case. “bet it is. little bit of release to all that tension you’ve been feeling, yeah?”

you think you nod.

it’s hard to tell.

sparks fly within your loins, heating you from the inside out. yunho, at some point, has wound his fist into the tresses of your hair, nails scrapping along your scalp. it’s pleasurable, all over, soothing you into a state of utter relaxation, a being with no purpose other than to take whatever this mass of warmth and muscles and width offers you.

his hand makes a fist and gently tugs, forcing a whine out of you as you’re faced with the bright lights once more. traces of his own cum stain the very place your face had lay. it’s erotic to see, drying up your tongue with a need to lick it clean.

“no, no, focus, right here,” a single finger taps at your cheek, followed by the tilting of your chin that forces you to stare back at the hungry eyes of jeong yunho. “eyes on me. want a front row seat to watching your eyes roll back.”

god, he’s filthy, and delicate, and that just makes him all that more filthy.

swiping his digits through the remnants of his sticky cum, he makes sure you’re staring right back at him as those same fingers snake their way down between your grinding bodies and burrow themselves deep in your soaked heat. shallow pumps of his hand fuck his cum-coated fingers deeper, long and lithe enough he barely needs to move to have you feeling him all over, everywhere.

by the time he curls them, pressing against that spongy wall, you’re just about ready to cry.

“think she’s gonna cum,” oh god, no, why must he remind you of your audience? why does it no longer frighten you to have eyes watching you be defiled but, rather, have you clenching around him tighter, chasing that fever-like ecstasy the man means to deliver? “she’s gripping my fingers so tight- shit, almost makes me wanna bust my load just thinking how warm her pussy would feel round my cock.”

“don’t let her cum,” you vow, some day, to wring the neck of park seonghwa. “just cause she’s gone all cockdrunk doesn’t mean she’s earnt-”

“shut up, hwa,” the boy’s thumb pokes up and you can’t help the way you grind down into it, smothering your clit in whatever pressure you can get. “pretty baby’s more than earned it. stop being bitter that i’m the one who’s gonna give her it.”

give you it, he does.

three fingers deep, the cocktail of your wetness mixing with his cum-cated digits aiding the ebb and flow of his rhythm, jeong yunho has your toes curling, eyes rolling, thighs shaking. you blackout, for only a moment, lost in the wilderness of pleasure.

the aftershocks are barely kicking in when you’re suddenly ripped away from yunho’s hold. the sounds of your beating heart and heaving chest muffle the disgruntled exchange of words between the swim-team, inhibiting your ability to stay clued-in on the events that surround you. all you know is that when your body meets the bench once more, on all wobbly fours, jeong yunho no longer sits tall and proud.

a sharp sting hits your rear- a smack, that echoes in the empty space of the swimming hall. the only appropriate response is the shriek you let out, twisted in your own conflicting emotions of pain, and pleasure, and painful pleasure. a second smack meets the other cheek. this time, there’s no doubt a wanton whine escapes you.

“since the rest of them can’t take orders,” you’d already known it was seonghwa whose hands were suddenly all over you, pinning you in a position of submission. the sound of his grandiose voice sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, top to tail. “i’ll have to do it myself.”

with no word of warning, he smooths his hands down the globes of your ass, teases the crease of skin where your inner thigh meets your dripping heat, and fucks two whole fingers into your sensitive core. knuckles deep, they sit still upon initial intrusion, basking in the warmth of you and coating themselves in the essence from an orgasm you’ve yet to even fully recover from and the cum yunho’d scooped off your own face.

then, at last, when your nails dig marks into the wood below, he curls them a come-hither motion.

with shame painted on your skin, you toss your head back and release an inhumane cry, eyes hazily gazing up at the horrendous white lights above. “oh god!”

“not quite. i do appreciate the flattery though,” there’s no need to glance over your shoulder to know that pompous, trust-fund baby is wearing the most earth-shattering smirk, some stupid strand of his perfectly groomed hair dangling over one of his eyes, like some 90s heartthrob boy-band member. you do it anyway.

park seonghwa is an unfairly attractive man, sporting a beauty so ethereal it almost makes you angry.

that anger seems to dampen the wetter he gets you.

his touch is slow, but by no means is it gentle. calculated and malevolent, he plays with your insides like they’re nothing but the strings to your puppet. a curl of his fingers and one of your hands shoots forward. the torturously slow pace that he pumps his digits in and out, and your jaw falls slack. his thumb bumps and grinds against your throbbing clit, and your elbows give out, sending you crashing face-first down onto the bench.

his free hand presses down on your lower back, bending you deeper, hiking your ass up higher in the air. and, at first, you think you’re imagining it, that trickle of warmth against your other entrance, believing it nothing but a trick of your melting brain.

you’re who-knows how many hours deep in a whirlwind of pleasure and penetrative stares, people have been driven to the brink of insanity over far less in the past.

but then seonghwa’s fingers leave your cunt, warm and wet trails following their journey over your skin. there’s no imaginative mind great enough in this universe to conjure up that initial shock to feeling how he prods and pokes at your puckered hole, lubricating it with the dirty mixture of both you and yunho’s cum and his very own spit.

the tip of his pointer finger ventures onward first, breaking through the surface of your tight muscles in a shallow intrusion.

the feeling has you frozen, frightened, intrigued. eyes widening, moans dying, pussy pulsating in an empty need.

“don’t go getting shy on us now, spitfire,” the collective language he uses brings back the weight of all the boys’ eyes on you. hesitantly, you angle your face off the bench, and regret it the instant you meet the brown comfort of his eyes. “fun’s just starting. ain’t that right, san?”

a tense energy takes over the large room, with san’s shoulders tensing, and yunho’s feet fidgeting, and wooyoung’s cheeks blushing. seonghwa seems impervious to the shift, whether voluntarily or not, and instead invites himself to further exploring the limits of your body.

he’s kind enough to spare a bit of care into the way his finger sinks deeper into your unexplored hole. another dribble of his hot saliva lands messily onto you, aiding the slip and slide of his hand. two, or three, or four strokes of his finger and you’re submitting to the intrusion, hips rutting higher and presenting yourself more to the man.

“come here,” the command calls over your body and, at first, you think its aimed at you. so you try scooting further back, only to be halted by seonghwa speaking once again. “yeah you, choi. come get under her.”

for the first time since this all began, you’re on the precipice of saying no.

they’d listen, all of them. wouldn’t push you, pressure you or force you to keep going, not if you truly voiced your negation. even park seonghwa, as big an arsehole as he may be, would have no qualms ending his fun and agreeing to never speak of this again.

and it’s not that you don’t want choi san under you. far from it, as you’ve already made pretty clear earlier, thighs his personal ear-warmers while his tongue delved deep for your honey-suckle glory. you’re hardly uncomfortable at the thought of him under you, chest rising repeatedly in frantic breaths and legs bent at the knee to give him just the right leverage to fuck up into your messy cunt-

it’s not till he’s three feet away from you, hands fidgeting by his side, eyes looking anywhere but you and your compromising position, and the world’s most obnoxiously boner-strained tent in his swimming gear that realisation washes over you. you’re hesitating because of him, because of his possible discomfort.

what if he wants to say no? what if he doesn’t want to get under you? what if his eyes will never look into your own again, too shocked and disgusted by all the things you’ve let be done to you? by his own team-mates/rivals, too?

hell, you’ve shocked yourself even, never in a million years had you pictured a day you’d be at the mercy of some rich prick, overdressed for every occasion and looking like a vogue-cover-model reject. but when he’s edging another finger into the already-tight squeeze of your ass, and pushing your buttons just enough to nudge you towards an edge that never seems to arrive, how could you ever dream of being anywhere else?

a hand touches your cheek.

soft. tender. it takes the extra time to soothe the pads of its fingers against your burning cheek.

“you feeling okay?” san’s quiet tone, meant only for you, is enough to move you to near-tears. you crave his hug. the position you find yourself in only allows you to reach out and grasp at where his knee bends as he crouches down to your level. it’s all the same, san knows. san understands. his own hand lands on top of yours, messily threading digits.

“she’s literally stuffed with another man’s cum and you’re worried about her? well aren’t you just the sweetest.” a cheap remark from seonghwa.

san purposefully ignores it, and everything about the man, instead choosing to keep his focus on what matters.

you.

“think you could make some room for me down there?” your nose wrinkles at his choice of words.

his giggle echoes.

���no, no, not... like that,” he guides you as he talks, grip moving to your shoulders and coaxing you up into a seating position. somewhere along the way, seonghwa’s hands leave you. he doesn’t stray too far, however, and your back soon collides against his chest. “here, pretty. want you to make space for me down here.”

within seconds, choi san’s back in his rightful place: splayed out beneath you, body fit snug between your parted legs and hair an unruly, sweated mess against his forehead.

no clothing sits between you both, blessing you with the mouthwatering drag of his cock through your folds. hard, and red, and leaking at the tip, a slight curve to the right, dribbling precum against his well-toned stomach. you’re biting your lip before you fully register your own thoughts, body a mind of its own as you grind down onto him.

control is limited and fleeting, that of which seonghwa reminds you without uttering so much as a word. instead, he clamps a harsh grip down on either side of your hips, rucks you up to where he needs you and guides you down onto san’s cock.

it’s thick, imposing and something that seonghwa blesses you no time to ease into things. instead, you’re slammed down, san buried to the hilt inside of you.

“hey there,” delicate fingers skim up the tense muscles in your thigh and find pleasure in delivering a teasing tickle to your sides. “come here often?”

the cheeky grin, the double entendre, the way san looks so goddamn proud of himself for saying it. you can’t help it, you wind up giggling uncontrollably.

wrong choice. bad idea. danger zone.

san contorts in pain, and lust, and something else you’ve never seen behind his eyes before, hissing through his teeth like some feral cat. his eyes match that of a feline too. “you trying to squeeze my dick off or something?”

you compose yourself upon the reminder of that san can feel you tensing around him, pull in a deep breath and find your voice again, at last. “or... something.”

maybe you’re a little out of breath. maybe you’re a little hoarse. it doesn’t seem to matter to the boy below, his only response being to cant his hips up and lick at the fire burning in your insides.

“you two are disgusting,” once again, park seonghwa wins gold in the nobody-asked-for-you-bum-ass-opinion olympics. let’s see if he’ll continue his winning streak and go for gold in the hypocrite-athon too!

the hands on your sides begin you guide you, with seonghwa squeezing his perfectly manicured nails into your plush skin and bouncing you down onto san. up, down, up and down, repeated strokes like the ones their hands deliver each time they breach the surface.

it’s easy, this pleasure. it’s a gift, hand-delivered by two god-like men that sandwich you between them- one a mass that fills you, the other a weight that controls you. liberating in every sense, you can’t help the way your head rolls back to find purchase on one of seonghwa’s shoulders, completely melting into the ways he winds you over san.

“shit, yes, you feel,” san’s no better than you, mouth agape and hands unsteady as they trace every inch of skin they can reach: the dimples of your back, the swell of your breasts, the hood of your clit. his hips are the only steady thing about him, not a falter in the way they grind up to kiss your dripping pussy with his cock. “so good. so warm, tight. love it.”

a hand curls round your front, travels up between your breast and over your sternum. it settled for a grip a round your throat, no pressure applied, it simply exists against your windpipe, a silent threat.

“look what you do to him, hmm,” a squeeze around your neck. seonghwa’s warm breath fans against your ear, taunting you. “look what you’re doing to them.”

through your glossed-over gaze, you trail your way past the sight of san and all his captivating beauty, settling instead on the equally erotic, not-at-all surprising image that stands just past where his head rests at the edge of the wooden bench.

a sweaty wooyoung, bent at the waist and whining up a storm, while a far more composed yunho pounds his hips into the boy’s arse.

your walls clench and san whimpers, a string of curses and pleads leaving him.

“think you’re finally ready for me?” the devil on your shoulder- at your back, more truly,- smirks into your skin, careless enough to not even feign it being anything but a rhetoric question. ready or not, park seonghwa is going to finally get his own fill of the thrill, his own satisfaction, beyond mere observation and controlling.

the spill of your own wetness slips down your thighs as san continues to fuck himself deep. it doesn’t travel far as seonghwa coats himself in you, wetting his fingers before they slip back inside your ass. a few generous, tempting pumps into your ring of muscles, fingers spreading a little further apart each time, till he decides that’s enough, he’s ready, you’re ready.

the unbuckling of a belt.

an unzipping of trousers.

trousers bunched down muscled thighs.

the first cut may be the deepest, but you highly doubt it’s as deep as seonghwa feels feeding his cock into your arse, stretching you apart to make way for him. a part of you feels like it can’t breathe, impaled on both these men who sit so deep inside you, you fear you’ll feel the ghost of their touch for weeks to come.

but what does it matter, really, when seonghwa pulls you back against him and whispers filth against your ear? 

this is all you’re good for. cock-drunk whore. gonna let us cum inside?

and san’s coaxing you down to trail his mouth over your chest, the tongue flicking over your nipple a terrible juxtapose to his crooning words?

taking it so well, baby. so tight, and perfect, and god. ‘s that what baby needs, huh, for me to touch her little clit?

the two men find a rhythm, a synchronised routine to how they pull and push you around. their thrusts ebb and flow, no moment existing where you sit empty. they treat your body like they treat the pool, swimming through your waves of pleasure and effortlessly advancing to the finishing line, the winning stroke. then, san’s hand meets your cheek and your thoughts are dragged underwater, muffling the sounds of everyone else- the shlickt sound that echoes with each inch of cock fucked into you, the high-pitched whimpers of a fucked out wooyoung, the slapping of skin against skin- as he pulls you in for a kiss.

it’s a hungry one, all teeth and tongue and swollen lips. you pull away more breathless than before and fighting back a big dopey grin, toes curling as the swell of one of their cocks hits a nice spot inside you, body too on fire to know just exactly where the new wave of heat is coming from.

“h-how d’you do it, hm?” it’s almost a whisper, something meant only for your ears, yet you hear him loud and clear, voice stuttering off in a mess of whines and moans. “still got that pretty-girl smile, even while getting fucked silly.”

it almost makes you shy, till you remember what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with. you settle for a quick, short answer. mostly because you fear you’re losing the ability to think in full-sentences, much less speak one out loud. “can multitask.”

like your own words are the key to pandora’s box, your eyes widen, and your mouth dries, and your heart reels as a new desire burrows itself somewhere between the parts of you owned by san and the parts owned by seonghwa. the desire makes room for more, for someone more, and, without much chance for second-thoughts or hesitation, you find what little stability you can manage with one hand pressing down onto san’s toned chest and reach forward with your free hand.

fingers, light as a feather, curl around wooyoung’s solid shaft. the man’s hips stutter at the unexpected contact, eyes flying open to glance down in time to watch you reach out your tongue, licking up the droplets of precum that threaten to spill from his mushroomed tip.

“please, god, please!” he’s beyond the point of sense, poor baby, struggling to keep up with yunho’s hips’ repeated slamming into his tight ass. so, you can’t really blame him or shame him for the way he hastily rips his hand through your hair, tugging your mouth as far down his cock as the angle allows.

a few hairs rip from your skull in his grip. you reward him with a pleasant hum, moans muffled with the mouth-full he’s providing you. 

“shit- look at that,” seonghwa pipes up from behind you, the motion of his hips never faulting or failing as he continues to take part in the filthiest three-way tango known to man, hands bouncing you down to meet each raise of san’s hips, plundering the other man’s cock deep, deep, deep, till he’s kissing your cervix and you’re seeing stars before your eyes. “should cup youngie’s- fucking christ- his balls, san, cup ‘em.”

you’re vaguely aware of his compliance, hand lifting off whatever part of you it was touching- your nipple, your hip, your jaw, it’s hard to tell when you feel like san’s everywhere, all over you, part of you- to graze the set of well-groomed spheres that threaten to slap your chin each time wooyoung thrusts forward.

barely two seconds, hardly any pressure against them, and the youngest of the four is nearly in tears, wailing and begging over broken whines that it’s too much, can’t take it, don’t stop.

there’s a ringing in your ear. because everything is becoming too much: wooyoung in your mouth, san rutting up into you and seonghwa’s hands clawing and pulling your body back into each of his overpowered thrusts. the boy in front of you is the first to fall apart, twitching in your mouth and, without a warning, choking you on the cum he shoots down your throat. a hand pulls you back, just enough to paint your face in the final drops released from wooyoung.

one of the other men is next, a string of curses and grunts filling the air. there’s a new stickiness between your legs, gooey white staining your skin. it’s all building up, and up, and up, until you topple over and are sent reeling into wave after wave of blinding pressure, toes cramping up and muscles spasming as you shoot off into another astral field, creaming around san and chocking seonghwa’s cock.

you don’t register the release of your hips nor the crash-down of your body. one moment, you’re pressed back against seonghwa, mouth dropped open in a silent scream for merciless pleasure, and the next you’re cradled in san’s warm embrace, a crooning tone to the way he hushes and calms you, unheard i got yous, and did so good for us, babys, and just let me hold yous falling on deaf ears.

for a moment in your own history, time ceases to exist.

there’s no ticking of the large clock on the wall, reminding you of how long ago your shift had ended. there’s no thoughts of your plant friend drying out in the staleness of your room, desperately awaiting you to revive it with some h2o. there’s no consequences awaiting your actions, no shame to be feared and leaving you unable to look any of the four swimmers in the eye ever again.

instead of being crashed against choi san’s body, a mixture of his, yours, and several other people’s bodily fluids serving as the adhesive that keeps you stuck together in your mess, you’re floating in space, not quite alive but not quite dead, just there. 

nerves tingling, body aching, mind switched off.

four, or five, or ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by the time you regain focus on your surroundings.

your name, whispered. it’s his voice that pulls you back, sweet and soft and oh so like the san you’re used to, the one that sends teasing winks your way when your eyes happen to meet his in class, and the one who has the prettiest notes you’ve ever seen, a colour-scheme for his every highlight and the cutest of doodles to go along with the topic on the paper.

the one who’s hand is currently brushing through your hair, fingers careful as they catch on the tangles near the split ends.

“hmm,” you swear you want to say his name, say more than that, but there’s an ache in your jaw that hinders you from even attempting, your voice-box likely having taken a beaten in the throws of your pleasured moans.

“you okay there?” he giggles over the end of the sentence, and you feel your slowing heartbeat stutter at the sound.

he feels you nod into the crook of his neck and lets his free hand find perch against your hip, moments before giving it a light squeeze. 

he’s warm, and pleasant, and soft.

and moving you both into an up-right position, hands splaying flat against your back and keeping you secure against him, your legs wrapping around his slender waist. you drift off again, between time and space, and come to at the first drop of water that lands on your back.

one drop, two drops, and then a downpour of heat crashing onto both of you.

you can tell from the colour of the pinkish tiles along the communal shower floor that you’re in the women’s changing room, and mentally note to thank him, even if he’s not aware, for bringing you somewhere you won’t have to shamefully stumble out of in the nude, your change of clothes safely tucked away within one of the lockers.

“i’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he speaks so gently that it overwhelms you, answering him only with an affirmative nod of your head.

neither of you speak while he lathers shampoo into your hair, nor when he’s dragging his soap covered hands over the cum that stains your skin, wiping it away and leaving nothing but suds where the liquid once was. he doesn’t speak while covering your eyes with his hands, blocking the sting of the shampoo. you don’t speak when you inch closer, head falling forward to rest against his chest.

when he does eventually speak again, both of your fingertips are wrinkled and bodies are clean, the water of the shower serving as nothing but a way to keep warm.

“you’re, uh, not” the echo of his voice in the empty lockers feels so much more intimate than how his cries sounded by the pool. “doing anything on wednesday, right?”

too lazy to move, you angle your face to stare up at him from his chest and take a moment to just stare, look at the way his hair is sticking to his forehead, at the way his eyes are back to being wide, at the way the marks you’d littered along his neck are becoming more prominent.

“how’d you know?” your question confirms his own, and a tenseness you’d not noticed melts off of his shoulders.

“wednesday is race day. you never work race days.”

it’s such an odd detail to have noticed, and it’s making you question everything you thought you knew about your relationship with san. do acquaintances remember each other’s schedules? do acquaintances bring each other soothing teas when they notice the other developing flu symptoms? do acquaintances waste time pulling faces at each other in lectures they should probably be paying attention to.

“i’m not taking part in the race this time, by choice. my grades are good enough, don’t need to worry about winning some championship to keep my education.” san is speaking unpromptly at this point, rambling in a way you’ve only seen him do when he’s nervous, or excited, or both. “it’s okay if you don’t want to, or you have better things to do or places to be! but, i was just thinking, maybe you’d wanna spend some time with me? there’s this medieval market down on main-street, it’s meant to be really cool, and i just think it would be even cooler to go with you? but, again, you don’t have to. forget it, actually, i’m being stupid and assuming you’re not doing something with your friends or your-”

the kiss you interrupt him with is far more innocent than the one you shared earlier, no hands rushing to touch and tongues desperate to taste, just two sets of lips moving as one.

you pull back and he chases after you, lips landing another peck before you’re grasping his cheek in your hold and forcing him back.

“i think you could have asked me to come help clean your apartment for you and i’d still say yes, just to spend my day with you,” you say, and he smiles as if on instinct, unable to stop it even if he tried.

“really?”

“really.”

“good, cause i already bought us two tickets and i really didn’t wanna have to go alone.” there’s drops of water dancing on his eyelashes, and laziness in his every movement, and you’re both still very much naked, but none of that seems to matter when he gives you another peck, like he’s awakened an addiction and your lips are now his favourite vice. “but, now that you mention it, my apartment could do with some cleaning. and i bet you’d look amazing in a maid outfit.”

a slap echoes in the showers.

“hey! don’t worry, i’ll be wearing a matching one!”

#ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #choi san smut #jung wooyoung smut #ateez oneshot

[vanilladove]

~ get free (1/3)

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: v suggestive w/ plot (yasssss); read at your own discretion

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: unhealthy relationships, infidelity, slightly yandere(?) nikolai, dubious consent, nikolai himself is a warning lol, also sorry if the asylum! au is inaccurate

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: reader is an asylum attendant and is assigned to their newest admit nikolai gogol. ALSO this fic is heavily inspired by @/cherikolya's fic she's the one i'm running with- pls check it out and support her! also i'm splitting this up into 2 parts bc watching the aot anime has been breaking me and consuming all my thoughts, but i still want to post:( ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 2 & pt 3 here ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 5.7k (oops...what can i say nikolai makes me delulu)

"Nikolai Gogol. Age 26. Male. Charged with terrorism, first-degree murder, and treason among other things, but he got off with an insanity plea. Look over his file before he comes in later." The man behind the desk tossed the neat file carelessly onto the acrylic surface, exhaling boredly after giving his monotone rundown.

"I'm being assigned to him? But I already have other patients to take care of!" You inquired, fists forming at your sides as you already imagined the overtime and exhaustion you were going to rack up.

"Attendants don't grow on trees, do they? Don't assume I'll give you special treatment. Besides, I'm handing your other patients off to the new girls, so you'll be able to focus on Gogol. He's high priority." The man butted back.

Tch. You sighed and grabbed the file, mumbling a "fine" and turning to leave his office.

"Goodbye, dear." He spat it out like venom with a forced smile. You glanced back once more at the man: your boss--or rather husband--before heading out the door. You two were simply a marriage of convenience--a business transaction. In exchange for funding to build a new asylum on par with Mersault to rehabilitate criminals, your father had offered your hand in marriage to his business partner's son, who had become entranced by your beauty after seeing you once in your father's office. He wasn't too bad of a man at first, and you both related over your occupation together, but your marriage started to go sour after he realized you weren't just a pretty face or obedient wife, and it worsened after his narcissism and egocentricity started to show. He was too traditional and trapped you in his cage of rules and regulations. Even sharing the same bed and having dinner together couldn't reignite the nonexistent spark between you.

You walked back to your office and closed the door behind you before making yourself some herbal tea to calm your nerves. Laying down on the plush couch in the middle of your room, you looked through your new patient's file, trying to memorize all the details.

Nikolai Gogol, huh? What kind of person are you? You shivered reading the list of his crimes, which seemed endless and cruel.

An hour or so had passed before you heard a soft knock at your door. "Miss?" Another attendant had come to fetch you. "Your patient is waiting for you in the white ward." The white ward was where "high priority" or more dangerous patients were kept.

"I'll be out in a moment!" You called out, getting up from the couch and tidying up the space before fixing your hair and pulling down your uniform. It was a black flowy dress with puffy bell sleeves and a white rounded collar. The dress itself was a bit too short, being designed and chosen by your gross and perverted lovely husband. You walked out the comfort of your office and followed the attendant to the white ward.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"Miss, this is your patient Nikolai Gogol". The attendant gestured to the tall man standing in the hallway outside of his room. He was strapped and held by two guards, with several others surrounding him holding special guns. He had a neutral smile on his face that turned upwards upon seeing you. You couldn't help but be momentarily mesmerized by the man in front of you. He wore a loose white button up and white linen pants--the standard male patient uniform--and his white hair was messily layered with a long, neat braid on his shoulder. His eyes were the most captivating to you, one emerald and full of life and the other a dull blue with a scar. Without the jester attire donned in his file pictures, he actually looked quite...handsome and prince-like?

You snapped yourself back to reality after remembering who you were dealing with and bowed slightly, just enough to stop your dress from riding up.

Observing the situation, you could sense the belligerence seething from everyone else. Not that you could blame them, the new patient was a dangerous anarchist. Your personal philosophy was always to treat the patient as humanely as possible in order to build trust and security, so you tried to not think about your new patient's file information. Just focus on diffusing the energy of the space and getting the jester to somewhat like you.

"Hello, Nikolai. I'm your attendant and will be taking care of you for the duration of your stay here," You looked back up and smiled gently at him, starkly contrasting the hostile glares from the other attendant and guards. "Let's get along, okay?"

Nikolai's eyes widened immediately and he tried to move closer to you. "Whaaaa! Nice to meet you, pretty miss! I can't believe such a beautiful girl is taking care of me!" The two guards forcibly stopped him from taking another step and the others pointed their guns at him.

Nikolai frowned and stopped squirming. "Hey! All I did was talk! Put those scary things away!" He giggled as the guards retracted their guns slowly and stuck his tongue out at the other attendant, who looked disgusted yet scared. He wasn't intimidated or scared at all. The guards then opened the door to Nikolai's room and placed him sitting down on his bed. Before you could follow to begin debriefing, the other attendant tugged on your arm lightly.

You turned back at looked at her. She had a fluffy blonde bob, light green eyes, and freckles. Lacey, one of the young new hires your husband mentioned earlier. "Um Miss, aren't we supposed to follow the script when interacting with patients? I thought smiling at them and speaking casually promoted unwanted feelings and was unprofessional?" You cringed, loathing that she sounded just like your husband when he was lecturing.

You shot her a fake sugary smile, "Oh, yes, I usually just take a softer approach with more unstable patients. Don't want them to stab you in the back immediately, do you?" You tried to answer lightheartedly, but your efforts clearly failed by the way Lacey had a horrified look on her face from your little joke, like it was the worst answer you could've said. You awkwardly coughed and put your hand on her shoulder.

"Right, thanks for reminding me, Lacey. It's great that you remembered the boss's words." Rolling your eyes once your back was turned to her, you stepped into Nikolai's room. You already dreaded Lacey telling your husband about you deviating from protocol and the long talk he would have with you at home.

"Four of us will be staying here to observe the debrief, Miss. This man is dangerous." You nodded as each of the four the guards stood in a corner of the room and the rest filed out of the room. You pulled up a stool and sat down, giving your new patient a run down of his daily schedule and how the asylum operated. The whole time, his eyes watched you excitedly like a puppy and he giggled and nodded frequently in between your sentences. It was strange and unsettling, but you were slightly relieved you didn't have to deal with an aggressive patient.

Scooting closer to Nikolai, you pulled out a small water bottle and a case of different pills. "These are your daily meds, Nikolai. I'll come to give these to you every morning at six before breakfast. I'll monitor your progress and adjust your dosage as time goes on." He nodded as you stood up and placed the water bottle on the stool, putting on a white latex glove and pouring the pills out into your hand. "I'm going to be administering them to you just for today. Open your mouth and don't close it until I'm done, okay?"

"Okay, missy! I'll be a good boy and try not to bite your pretty fingers off!" Nikolai perked up and giggled like a child getting candy. You mentally cringed and prepared yourself for the worst as you stepped towards him. What could you expect? This man was dangerous and had no reason to listen to you. The guards tensed up as you moved closer and pointed their guns at the jester's face. You swallowed as Nikolai opened his mouth, obnoxiously saying "ahhhhhhhh" and bouncing in his spot lightly.

Heartbeat increasing, you placed your free hand under Nikolai's jaw, thumb supporting his chin and lifted his face up slightly to you as you dropped the pills into his mouth. Mind racing and anxiousness clouding your vision, you missed the way he gaze softened. He closed his mouth and leaned into your touch more, nuzzling your delicate fingers. You swiftly pulled away, turning your head back to grab the water bottle behind you, attempting to hide the light rose that dusted your cheeks, unsure of whether it was from fear or embarrassment. Nikolai's eyes were still intently on you, so you secretly hoped he had missed that.

As you opened up the water bottle and stepped back towards Nikolai again, he shook his head. "I already swallowed them, I don't need any water, miss attendant." He opened his mouth again to show you proof before you sighed out an "okay" and tightened the cap back on. You grabbed the empty pill case before gesturing to the guards to put their guns down. They complied and two came over to slowly undo the restraints on his upper body, making sure to hold him back immediately after.

"Well, Nikolai, that's all for today. Thank you, and I--"

"Whoa, missy, you have a ring! Too bad you're already married!" Nikolai interrupted, his head poking up but quickly being pushed down by one of the guards. You cursed yourself silently as you froze in place. Since you had to move around a lot and constantly clean, you wore your wedding ring on a simple gold chain as a necklace instead. It was usually tucked under your uniform, but it must have slipped out when you were laying on your couch earlier. You cleared your throat awkwardly, tucking your necklace back into your uniform and trying to get rid of the instinctive frown on your face that appeared anytime your partner was mentioned.

"Yes, I'm married. Anyways--"

“But you held my face so lovingly just now. Won't your husband get mad? You're supposed to do that to him, not your new captive, right?"

You tightened your fists at that.

"That man…does he treat you well, pryntsesa?" Even though his head was held down, his dark gaze still cut into you, now not as innocent as it was before. You were sure the cheeky man was smirking too, taunting you with an otherwise harmless question.

You let out a fake laugh and an even faker wide smile in response, just eager to leave and go home now. Whatever charm you had your patient initially under had clearly faded away. "I'll see you tomorrow at six, Mr. Gogol." Nikolai's smirk turned down after hearing the name change, but quickly turned back up again followed by loud hysterical laughs--unbeknownst to you, who had already left his room.

"So the little ptashka wants to play games, does she?"

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"Thanks for dinner, dear." Your husband said, wiping his mouth with a neatly folded handkerchief.

Shocking. Is he being...nice?

"Of course, I've already packed your lunch for tomorrow, too." You replied, occupied washing dishes and organizing the kitchen again.

"So, how was your first encounter with Gogol?" He inquired, walking over to you to put his dishes into the sink and lean against the counter beside you. You stopped for a moment, surprised he was making conversation with you today, as he usually retreated back to your shared bedroom or went to the living room to watch the news.

You were about to start until you noticed his brows furrowed and his arms crossed. You took your rubber gloves off and placed them next to you.

Oh boy, he's about to lecture me, isn't he?

"What are you really trying to say?"

He exhaled. "Well, Lacey--"

That snitch. You couldn't believe her.

"Ahhh, Lacey. The sweet young new girl you hired as extra help. What about her?" Your spouse's eyes narrowed.

"Respect your coworkers, dear. Lacey told me about your unprofessional interaction with Gogol. Smiling at a murderer and treating patients as friends doesn't exactly align with the asylum's values, now does it?" He said sternly.

"I was just trying to immobilize him. You can't exactly make a patient trust you when everyone's just shooting daggers at them, y'know?" He didn't look convinced. "Besides, this has always been my approach since I started in this field, and it's never failed me. You more than anyone should know I have the most successful recoveries among all the staff."

"Fine. Just make sure your unorthodox tendencies don't rub off on the other staff." He looked down at your neck. "And don't tuck your necklace under your uniform anymore. Don't want all the delinquents getting the wrong idea. You're off the market now" He lifted the chain of your necklace and traced the outline of the ring before letting go and walking to grab his coat and a pack of cigarettes.

"Going outside for a smoke break. You should get to bed and get some sleep for the long day tomorrow" He replied before walking out the door, your eyes following him.

You didn't miss the way he swiftly grabbed the keys and fixed his hair before leaving.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"Good morning, dove!" Nikolai chirped upon you entering his room.

"Good morning, Nikolai. Did you sleep well?" You asked softly, taking his medication out and handing it to him, along with some Ukrainian candy.

"Mmhmm, yes I did! I had a sweet dream, too, doll, but I can't tell you what it was about!" He said excitedly. Used to his antics, you only laughed in response and watched as he took his pills--still without water for whatever reason and unwrapped the minky binky candy, popping it into his mouth.

Five weeks. That was how long it'd been since Nikolai was admitted to the asylum.

Despite your initial worries of dealing with a monster, you and Nikolai had gotten along quite well. He seemed to only listen to you, though, much to the dismay of the other attendants. It was beneficial for you though, since it meant you didn't have to work overtime seeing to other patients.

Nikolai had developed a habit of calling you by anything but your name, bestowing several different pet names on you--a new upgrade from "miss" and "missy".

He also became increasingly touchy with you as well: constantly holding your hand--intertwining his fingers with yours, braiding your hair, and hugging you when he felt "cold". Perhaps you were desensitized to it or just touch starved, but you rarely complained about it. You would rather keep him happy and easy to deal with, anyways.

"Look, pretty girl, I finished all my meds!" Nikolai exclaimed as he opened his mouth to show you proof that he swallowed them all.

You gave him a friendly smile. "You aren't having any bad side effects from your meds, are you?" You found it a bit odd that Nikolai's dosage never changed, since no one could pinpoint his exact condition. It made your job easy, though, so you tried not to think much about it.

"No ma'am. I had some trouble sleeping at first, but it's all gone now!" He stood up from his bed and watched as you straightened it up--simultaneously checking for anything suspicious. There never was anything somehow.

His hands loosely wrapped around your waist as he pressed himself against your bent back and rested his chin on your shoulder, causing you to push your hands into the sheets and wrinkle the thin blanket. You let out a surprised squeal when you felt his warm breath on your ear.

"Love, can we eat breakfast in the courtyard today?" He whispered softly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself blushing as you turned around and pushed him away, his hands still remaining on your waist.

"Y-Yes, N-Nikolai, we can go to the courtyard today." You said, finally stepping away to be free of his touch just for him to hold your hand. He flashed a happy smile at you while skipping out the door, tugging you along with him.

"Yayyyy! Me and ptashka are going on a date~"

"...It's not a date, silly." You replied back, blush still faintly across your cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You inhaled the fresh courtyard air, still holding hands with Nikolai as you walked on the cobblestone path. His breakfast to-go box and your lunchbox were on the nearby bench; you both already ate, but Nikolai basically ate most of your food, claiming the dining hall food was "stale and dry" compared to the pillowy cream puffs you'd brought.

"Wahhhh! Look at the fishies, dove!" Nikolai exclaimed, waving his finger at the koi fish swimming in the fountain. They eagerly swam towards him, probably thinking he was going to feed them. He giggled, eyes focusing in on two of the fish.

"Don't those two look like us, love?" You were snapped out of your previous trance and looked down to see a black koi fish and a larger white koi fish together cuddling into each other.

"Oh, I guess they do. Because of our uniforms, right?" You looked back up to Nikolai to see him frowning and still staring at the fish.

"No, dove, because they're in love..." He said lowly, to the point where you almost couldn't hear him. His gaze softened as he looked back down at you and cupped your face gently.

In love? Us?

Eyes widened, you felt confused as you looked away, not sure how to respond or think. The sudden action caused Nikolai's hands to drop away from your face. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see his disappointed face as you stammered, "We're not in lo--"

Your eyes flew open again as you felt something hard in your hand.

A bouquet of lavender roses was in your hand, with Nikolai giving you a big grin with his hands behind his back. "Pretty flowers for my pretty girl." You blushed, forgetting about what had just happened. You had always loved roses and their romantic charm.

When was the last time your husband brought you flowers?

"Lavender roses symbolize delight and love at first sight. They remind me of you." Your eyes widened again as you looked up, Nikolai turning serious and gazing at you affectionately, like you were really lovers.

You found yourself getting lost in his heterochromatic eyes. Somehow, you felt peaceful like this. Even though he was a dangerous criminal. Even though your heart was already sworn to another man.

"Thank you, Nikolai. They're beautiful." You said smiling at him, this time being genuine and not passive. You were falling into a serene state, only able to focus on him. His action had somehow touched your conflicted heart and put you in a good mood.

He laughed happily in response, pleased by your reaction. "You look lovely when you smile like that, sweetheart." He pulled your other hand back to the bench so you could sit.

"Also, you should give me a nickname, too. I have so many, but you only call me Nikolai~" He pouted, scooting next to you on the bench.

"Hmmmm...What should I call you then? Niko? 'Lai? Nikolas...?" You pondered, both of you slightly cringing at all of the options, each one sounding worse than the previous one.

"I know!" Nikolai exclaimed, grabbing your hands--still holding the flower bouquet--and clasping them together, "Kolya. Call me Kolya. That's what my close friends and family would call me!"

Family? You mean the ones you murdered? You tried to shake the thought.

"Kol--Ahh!" You cried out as you felt a deep prick on your left ring finger. You pulled your hand away from Nikolai's and dropped the bouquet, watching the blood drip down your finger and down to your thigh.

Nikolai's eyes filled with concern, "Love! You're hurt!" He rushedly rummaged through his breakfast box and his pockets, trying to find a napkin to stop the bleeding. You tried to calm him down, telling him you were fine, but he wouldn't listen.

Suddenly, he seized your left hand and brought it to his mouth, closing his lips around your ring finger. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt him running his tongue over your finger, getting every last drop of blood and kissing the spot slowly when he finished.

Heat rushed into your cheeks as the air felt thick, no longer serene and peaceful. Nikolai's eyes darkened, and an unreadable expression fell on his face.

"There's still some there, dove." He gazed down at the blood that had dripped onto your thigh. Your stomach churned at the thought of what he would do next as he pushed you down onto the bench and brought his lips to your inner thigh, leaving soft kitten licks all over the spot and lightly groaning.

"Niko--Kolya, s-stop--" You tried suppressing the moan threatening to spill out from the contact on your sensitive skin. You tried to push him away softly, but he wouldn't stop, now pressing light kisses that travelled up your thigh to your sweet spot. He was getting close. Too close.

You pushed his head away, not trying to be soft anymore, and sat up again, moving to the far side of the bench. You pulled down your dress again to cover your now reddened thigh.

"W-We can't do this. It's wrong. You're my patient, and I'm your attendant. And..." You hesitated, regaining your composure, "...And I'm married." You said, biting your tongue. The gold necklace suddenly felt heavy around your neck, like it was pulling you down.

Nikolai laughed bitterly, "You don't love him though, myla. He's kept you trapped in a cage. Is that what you want, dove? Do you want to be trapped in his cage?"

"I--"

"Miss! Mr. Gogol! There you two are! We've been looking everywhere for you both. There's a group wellness activity starting for all the patients, and they're waiting on you." You turned around to hear a familiar high-pitched voice.

Lacey. The snitch new girl.

You put on a fake smile. "My apologies, I completely lost track of time. Lacey, you can escort Nikolai to the group's meeting spot. I'll be retiring to my office for the rest of the day." She nodded as you grabbed the bouquet and your lunchbox and took one last look at Nikolai before standing up from the bench and turning away, "I'll see you tomorrow, Nikolai." You didn't wait for a response back.

It felt too awkward. Everything felt confusing; you knew your place but you also wanted to be free. You liked Nikolai but you didn't know if those feelings could be considered love. You surely didn't love your husband...

All you could do was hold onto the roses and gaze up at a dove flying across the sky. For a moment, you wished to be like that dove. To be elegant, at peace, and loved.

You wished to be free.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to scan your access card and enter Nikolai's room. Today was a special day, after all.

"Good morn--"

"Love! You're finally here! I was waiting for you~" Nikolai exclaimed as he lunged towards you, burying his face into your neck. He wasn't wrong; The extra time you spent collecting your thoughts and debating going in or not made you two minutes late.

You lightly pushed Nikolai away--not before he caught your hands and intertwined them with his again--and tried to put a neutral smile on your face. "Nikolai, I have good news for you."

His face lit up as he clasped your hands and brought them towards his chest, "What is it, dove? Are you divorcing your husband and leaving him for me?" He shook your hands excitedly as you eyed him disappointingly. He really wasn't going to drop this lovesick act, was he?

You shook your head and cleared your throat, "No, as a reward for good behavior, you can choose a special place to visit and an item to keep in your room. Your options are the courtyard, the gy--"

"The library. I want a book to read." Nikolai stated, suddenly turning serious, taking you slightly aback; you didn't take him as the type to be able to sit still and read for a long time.

"Alright, the library it is then. Take your meds first, and then we can go, 'kay?" He nodded excitedly as you turned away from him to make his bed and do the usual check. Nothing suspicious, as usual.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The guard greeted you both as you approached the grand library doors. It was an old wooden room with tall glass windows that contrasted the relatively short bookshelves. It wasn't exactly a popular destination for patients, so the books were mostly dated and collecting dust. The natural light inside made it one of your favorite break spots during your trainee days, so it was a bit nostalgic for you.

"There are security cameras around the library, but radio in if anything happens." The guard explained sternly, looking over at Nikolai and then you, "Do you need assistance with your patient, or will you two be fine alone?"

You shifted your gaze over to Nikolai, who had a slightly mischievous smile on his face but maintained a serious expression. "We'll be fine alone. He'll behave." The guard nodded at you before opening the door and letting you two in. The door shut firmly and you tried to grab Nikolai's hand, but he dashed away from you towards the large stained glass window before turning to face you.

"It's so big in here, ptashka. I haven't been in a library in sooooooo long. I actually love to read, y'know?" He said, smiling and motioning for you to join him. The colorful stained glass reflected on his face, casting multicolored kaleidoscopes on his face.

You joined him, admiring his beauty momentarily before leaning against the window and crossing your arms. "I didn't know that, no. To be honest, I didn't think you were much of a reader.." You said lightly with a giggle.

Nikolai grinned back, "Heh. There's a lot you don't know about me, dove." He looked away, lowering his voice a bit, "But that's fine. You'll have plenty of time to learn everything later~" You looked at him confusedly, not quite catching what he said, but you remembered the reason you came and grabbed his hand again.

"Anyways, was there a particular book you were looking for? I know this place pretty well." He laughed in response.

"Ah, is that so? Well, I'm looking for The Overcoat. It's my favorite book." Nikolai said proudly, like he was trying to impress you with his literature selection.

"The books are sorted by last name. Do you know the author?" You asked, leading him towards the bookshelves. Nikolai just squeezed your hand and started skipping forward at a fast pace, practically dragging you behind him as he started giggling hysterically.

"Nope! Not a clue, hehe~" You paused and frowned at him. Who didn't even know the author of their "favorite" book? "The genre's fiction, though, if it helps~" Nikolai said giddily, turning towards you and swinging your arms from side to side. You sighed and slowly headed over to the fiction section. There were about 1,000 books to go through, so you weren't exactly too excited. Not that it bummed you out too much, though, since your husband had asked you to help the new girls clean if you finished early with patient duties. You supposed you'd rather spend your time with Nikolai finding his book.

You both agreed to search the shelves simultaneously, Nikolai looking on the higher shelves and you on the shorter ones. The space between shelves was quite narrow, making his chest rub against your back several times. He wasn't shy either, grabbing your hips to maneuver past you, causing you to jolt when he pressed himself behind you.

Starting to lose count of how many books and shelves you'd checked, you were falling into a tired daze until Nikolai's sudden shout woke you up. "I found it, dove! I'm the winner! Me, me, me!" You looked over to Nikolai, who now had his book in his hands, and shot him a relieved smile.

He hurriedly headed towards you as you gave him some congratulatory praise. "Guess our work's done here, then. Let's get some lunch and call it a da--"

He hugged you suddenly, making you yelp as he giggled and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against him. He leaned in by your ear, squeezing you tighter, inhaling your scent, "Say, dove, do you still have the roses I gave you from the courtyard?" You perked up toward him as he smiled, awaiting your response.

You did. You'd placed them in a small glass vase--trimming the thorns off--and put it on your dresser. Somehow, the sickly sweet smell was stronger in your room than it was in the courtyard. "Yeah," you smiled, "They're in a vase by my dresser. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of them because of how beautiful they were." Nikolai snickered at that, delighted that you'd cherished his little gift.

He slowly smirked, "Your husband doesn't give you flowers, does he?" You tensed up a bit under his arms but relaxed again, frowning and looking down.

"No, he doesn't. I think the last time was during our honeymoon." Nikolai cuddled into your neck after that, rubbing your sides like he was trying to comfort you.

"What a shame, love. You should leave him for me. He doesn't deserve you." Nikolai said, his teeth barely grazing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Was the space always this narrow?

"I can't. It doesn't work like tha--"

"Why not, though? Leave him for me. I'm actually perfectly sane, y'know? I know how to make you happy, how to free you from his cage..." He paused, "How to touch you..." His hands on your waist trailed down, pushing your skirt up higher.

"H-hey!" You stammered, stopping his hands from going further with your own, "We can't do this. There are cameras here." You anxiously looked around, trying to find them, but Nikolai's hand grabbed your face and pulled it back down to him.

"Shhhhhh. Stop worrying, myla. This is a blind spot. It's covered by the light, see?" He tilted your face up slowly again toward the camera, which was in fact covered by a big, dusty lantern. How convenient.

He pushed your skirt up again and grinded himself on you, and you swore you could feel his bulge pressing up against you. "You've been driving me crazy, dove, since yesterday I've only been able to think about you," he grunted, slipping his hands into your loosened dress and under your lacy bra to palm and squeeze your breasts. "The sounds you made...I wanna hear them again."

Your head was screaming at you to run away and get the guard, but you couldn't ignore the wet spots on your matching lace panties from your arousal. To be honest, you didn't remember the last time you'd been this intimate with anyone, and your body was clearly craving touch. Your breath hitched as Nikolai kissed below your ear, working his way down to the crook of your neck. You were starting to feel lightheaded.

Becoming more desperate for a reaction, Nikolai suddenly pinched your sensitive nipples and bit down on your neck, causing you to yelp in pleasure. "A-ahh K-Kolya--" The sudden impact caused you to push back against his clothed member and grip onto the sturdy shelf in front of you for support. You could feel him grinning in satisfaction, letting out a low groan.

"Mmm there's the pretty noise I wanted to hear~" Nikolai replaced his lips with his tongue, trailing slowly up and down your neck as you kept bucking against him, needing more friction. "Dove," he heaved as you mewled upon feeling his tip brush against your clit through eachother's clothes. He couldn't handle seeing you start to lose yourself. "F-fuck, kiss me".

Nikolai grabbed your hips suddenly and turned you around, so your back was against the wooden shelf. You looked up at his face; he was panting heavily, eyes filled with lust, and a few strands loose from his usual kept braid. The sight of him made your cheeks flush and your panties even wetter. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, bringing one hand to his lips and tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. You gazed intently at his lips. Just one kiss will be fine, right?

Both of your noses were practically rubbing against each other as Nikolai started to dip down. "Kolya, I--"

BAM!

You instinctively pulled away as you recognized the sound of the old library door being kicked down. As the stomping of the guards' boots grew closer, you pushed Nikolai off your body and fixed your dress. Nikolai shot you a surprised glance as the guards knocked down the heavy bookshelves to open up the space around the two of you, eliminating the narrow confines. You couldn't process what was happening as five guards circled around Nikolai, drawing their guns and pointing them at him as he put his hands up. Another guard was slowly approaching you, lifting the walkie talkie up to his mouth.

"06, copy. Patient Gogol has been surrounded and apprehended successfully. We're on our way to the interrogation room," He glanced over to you, still sitting down in shock, "His attendant's here, too. We'll bring her to you, Boss."

Boss? Your husband? Shit, had you been caught?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice Nikolai being handcuffed and pushed out the door--or the way he looked back at you--until the guard put his hand on your shoulder and called out your name. "Miss, we need to get going. We'll explain everything once we're with the boss again." He helped you up as you trailed slowly behind him with a churning stomach and The Overcoat clutched tightly in your arms.

˚₊‧꒰ა part 2 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧꒰ა part 3 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#vanilladove #vanilladovebsd #bungo stray dogs #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai smut #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs #bsd #nikolai gogol x reader smut #nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol smut #nikolai x reader smut #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #not me having to rewrite this twice bc tumblr didnt save properly #way too many words lol #splitting this up into 3 parts bc aot has been breaking me

[bomertheshark]

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

#top male reader #bomertheshark #dom male reader #x male reader #seme male reader #male reader #bottom character #nanami x male reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x male reader #Kento x male reader

[angelltheninth]

Monster Masterlist

SFW

Captured by a Demon Prince

Trust Issues with a Sleep Paralysis Demon

Vampire Lady Courts You

Sweet Yandere Sleep Paralysis Demon

Having a Werewolf Girlfriend

Dating an Orc Himbo

The Innocent Succubus Girlfriend

Sacrificed to a Chivalrous Dragonkin

Flirty Vampire Boyfriend Biting You

Merman Trying to Court You

Male!Werewolf x Fem!Reader - Senses Working Overtime

The Headless Horseman Courts You After Scaring You

Orc Boyfriend when You're Pregnant

Vampire Man Manipulates You and Drinks Your Blood

Dating a Sweet Minotaur

Orc Boyfriend Gets Protective Over You

Winning the Affections of a Touch-Starved Vampire Man

Flirty Vampire Boyfriend Takes Care of You when You Pass Out

Male!Vampire x Fem!Reader - Hooked On Your Taste

Monster Boyfriends Giving You Hugs

Orc Tries to Court You but You're Oblivious

Merman Courts a Surfer Dude

Male!Merman x Fem!Reader - Swimming in Romance

Vampire Boyfriend Who Only Wants to Drink From You

NSFW

Male!Sleep Paralysis Demon x Fem!Reader - Sell Me My Nightmare

Cockwarming and Banter with an Orc Warlord

Male!Slime Monster x Fem!Reader - A Sticky Situation

Big Monster Boyfriend Can't Resist Claiming You

Male!Sleep Paralysis Demon x Fem!Reader - The Stuff of Wet Nightmares

Male!Dullahan x Fem!Reader - The Dullahan Boyfriend Experience

Male!Siren x Fem!Reader - With This Final Breath

Being Offered to an Orc Warlord

Male!Gargoyle x Fem!Reader - Wild Side

Male!Yautja in Rut x Fem!Reader

Virgin Male!Orc x Fem!Reader x Warlord Male!Orc - Ready to be the Prize

Male!Orc x Fem!Reader - The Orc's Promise

Male!Vampire x Fem!Reader - Drained and Filled

Your Careful Orc Boyfriend Helps You Take All of Him

Werewolf Boyfriend Chases and Pins You During the Full Moon

Your Careful Orc Boyfriend Reacts to You Taking the Lead

You Notice Your Orc Boyfriend's Bulge

Using Your Boyfriend's Demon Horns to Guide Him

How Monster Boyfriends Make You Feel Good

Gargoyle Boyfriend Gets Rough As the Sun Comes Up

Finding Out Your Demon Boyfriend is Ribbed for Your Pleasure

Monster Boyfriend Scared of Hurting You During His Mating Cycle

Male!Forest Protector x Fem!Reader - What Goes Down in the Forest

Orc War Chief Breeds You in Public

Male!Orc x Fem!Reader - More Than Bargained For

What You Can Look Forward to With a Big Monster Boyfriend

The Devil Corrupts a Nun

Monster Boyfriend Has Sex with You While You're on Your Period

Goblin Boyfriend Goes Into a Mating Frenzy

#masterlist #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x girl #monster x you #monster love #monster boyfriend #monster girlfriend

[froggywritesstuff]

fizzarolli & asmodeus dating hc's

ship/pairing: Fizzarolli x Asmodeus x male!bodyguard!reader (though there's not much talk of the reader's gender)

request: anon: Would it be okay to have an asmodeus x fizzarolli x Male bodyguard reader, I just want some fluff Headcanons like how the relationship would be like.

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of feeling insecure, swearing, maybe ooc, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting! i originally only started writing this for fizzarolli because i didn't know enough about asmodeus, but after watching the new episode i decided to edit it for asmodeus as well. hope you enjoy!

they constantly flirt with you 

what’s the point of having a cute bodyguard with you if you’re not gonna try flirt with them occasionally 

if occasionally meant almost every five seconds of every day

they fucking love how flustered you look after they compliment you or makes a flirty remark 

they both especially love how you try (and fail) to stay professional 

fizzarolli's flirting is definitely more crude, while asmodeos is still lewd, but more sensual

overtime their flirting gets more personal

fizzarolli isn't used to someone caring about his safety and well-being like you do, so he truly starts to appreciate your company very soon, and he makes sure to let you know it 

if you tell them you enjoy their company and being around them, they get a thousand times more flirty and clingy with you

even though your job is to literally bodyguard him, asmodeus gets really protective over you

checks if you and fizz are ok like a thousand times after coming home from a day out

he knows you can protect yourself, but if he hears someone talking shit about you behind your back or to your face, he's gonna fuck them up.

now obviously they both adore seeing you flustered around them

but when you spring into action and fight off some random imp that was harassing one of them

different reactions from each, but generally speaking, they're down bAD 

even more than they usually are

as well as it being a huge turn on for fizz, he feels his heart just explode

he doesn’t often see you so strong and protective of him, so when he does it’s like he’s in a trance and can never look away

if you use that opportunity to flirt with him, he's gonna be putty in your hands

being his bodyguard, you don't flirt with him that often so when you do he goes bright red, and turns to a flustered, stuttering mess

asmodeus mainly finds it hot

after confirming that you're not hurt and you're safe, he'll definitely flirt with you 

gets super physical as well, even if you're in public and lots of people can see you 

though he tries to hide it, fizzarolli gets really insecure about your relationship, and thinks you're just faking your feelings since you were hired to be his and asmodeus's bodyguard

it takes a long time for him to actually be vulnerable with you and talk about his feelings

it's a big moment for him so do not try to downplay his feelings or dismiss him

if you ever need to talk about your feelings, or literally anything, asmodeus is definitely the best demon for that

you can rant for hours and he'll stay beside you, nodding and intently listening, chiming in when necessary 

fizzarolli definitely isn't the best listener in hell, but he really makes an effort for you

puts in 110% effort to listen to you and make sure you feel listened to

a lot of the time if you're ranting about something he definitely joins in, and you two have hour long conversations

they're both super supportive of you in whatever you do

and if you're ever feeling insecure about yourself, they're so quick to shut it down and shower you with compliments

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x male reader #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss fizzarolli #helluva boss asmodeus #fizzarolli x male reader #asmodeus x male reader #fizzarolli #asmodeus x reader #fizzaroli helluva boss #asmodeus helluva boss #helluva boss ozzie #fizzarolli x reader #x reader #fanfcition #helluva boss fanfiction #ozzie x reader #fizzarolli x asmodeus #fizzarolli x asmodeus x reader #mlm #gay #fizzmodeus #male reader #helluva boss episode 6 #fanfiction #helluva boss oops #Fizzarolli x you #asmodeus x you #Asmodeus x Fizzarolli x you

[churipu]

hii ive been obsessed with your work lately and I hope ur doing well! make sure not to overwork yourself!! Anyways can u make a nanami headcanon where s/o comes home late because she’s working overtime but forgets to tell him?

COMING HOME LATE TO NANAMI ₊˚⊹

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. none

note. haiii nonniee, thank you so much for appreciating my works. it means so much to me <33 i'm sorry this one took so long and i hope you like it, mwah mwah

i feel like in the relationship, nanami tries to talk you to quit your job before — but you felt like it was kind of unfair if he had to use his money to support you, so you always managed to decline that. even if the male was a bit disappointed at your decision, he didn't want to force you, so he lets you be.

you didn't have a cursed energy; a non-sorcerer. unlike him, you had a simple job of making coffees, alias a barista. the income was not too much, but still enough for the both of you (although nanami always ends up paying for your stuff because he insists).

the job wasn't too tiring, however today was a bit different — the store had gotten a rush hour in the afternoon, not that you were complaining about it as you signed up for the job anyways. and a co-worker had asked you to cover their shift because they had an family emergency.

really, you didn't mind covering for them at all. you were getting an extra for that and it counts — just it meant that you were going to be the closing shift for today, and everyone knows closing up meant it would be a lot of work; especially with the washing, cleaning up, mopping the floors, the coffee machines, everything.

you ended up closing the shop late at night, rushing to your shared apartment with nanami. opening the door in exhaustion, calling out a tired, "i'm home."

"y/n?" nanami appears from the corner, rushing towards you and then cupping your face.

in confusion you blinked at him, wondering what the hell was happening and why was he acting like this?

"you never texted or answered my calls, i was worried," he mumbles out, and it finally dawned upon you that during your shift — it was too busy that you hadn't managed to get to your phone at all. and it was on silent too.

"i'm sorry, baby. i had to cover up for my co-worker's shift, it was my mistake for not telling you," you smiled at him, planting a kiss on his lips.

nanami shook his head, "it's alright, please inform me next time," he kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug, "how was work?"

"you won't believe how busy it is today, surprising. but it was fun, and i'm getting extra paycheck for covering my co-worker's shift!" you marveled out happily, and he gazes down at you fondly, kissing the crown of your head.

"i'm glad then," he mumbles out to you, "if i tell you to stop—"

"still a no from me," you kicked your shoes off and walked towards the living room, sparing him a cheeky smile, "i like working, plus, it's not fair that you have to waste your money for my livings too."

nanami heaves out a sigh, "my money is your money."

but he didn't push on, what mattered is that you enjoy working. nanami will undoubtedly still pay for your things, telling you that you should just save your paychecks incase he goes broke (which will never happen).

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #i love nanami #bye i miss nanami

[buckybabesonly]

Dirty Little Secret

Summary: You believe Bucky doesn’t even remember your name, not knowing he moans it to himself at night.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Masturbation (male)

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Wrote this on my phone lol sorry for any potential errors. Just wanted to get a little smutty post out there. Also - thanks for nearly 400 followers in just over one week of starting this blog! I’m so happy 🥲 Enjoy!

“Hey. Are you listening?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your eyes, breaking you out of your reverie. You blinked in embarrassment as Natasha scowled at you playfully.

“Seriously though, did you listen to anything I just said?”

“No,” you confessed sheepishly.

Her eyes followed your line of sight, landing on a certain Bucky Barnes.

“Ah. You started writing ‘Mrs Bucky Barnes’ across your notepads yet?”

You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks. Were you that obvious? You supposed that one would have to be blind not to notice the goo-goo eyes you gave Bucky all the time whenever he was in the vicinity.

He had arrived at the compound just a few months ago, settling in to his new reformed life away from his history as the Winter Soldier. Steve did his best to help him adjust, and from what you could tell, he was fairly quiet and kept to himself.

“He’s kind of exactly my type,” you confessed to Natasha quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“I see. You like a guy with a high body count, huh.”

“Nat!” You exclaimed, slapping her arm as she snickered at the double entendre. “Not funny.”

“Hey, he gave me this.” Natasha yanked up her top, showing off her scar just above the hipbone. “I’m allowed to be mean to him.”

You grumbled in response as Natasha leant closer, cocking an eyebrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, I really need you to help me run some analysis on this equipment we picked up from…”

You shuffled through the compound hallways, a stack of files in your arms. You rounded a corner sharply, almost colliding with a tall, dark figure who sidestepped you neatly.

“Jesus Christ!” Though a collision had been avoided, you squawked in shock nonetheless, promptly dropping the files onto the floor.

“Ah, shit. Sorry,” Bucky said, quickly kneeling down to collect them.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you floundered, cheeks flushing red. He straightened up and stacked the files on your arms neatly, his long fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. His eyes met yours as he offered you a half smile, the corners of his lips quirking up.

His irises were a gorgeous, gray blue, and you silently noted that you had never been stood so close to him before. He smelt so good, and he looked even better in his tight tactical gear.

“Thank you,” you stuttered, wanting to kick yourself at how ruffled you sounded. The effect this man had on you was unfair.

“You’re welcome…” he paused deliberately, and you offered your name to him eagerly. He repeated it, and you loved the way the syllables sounded on his tongue.

“See you around,” he said casually before he strode off again, leaving you a flustered mess in the hallway.

Okay, at least step one was accomplished - he finally knew your name, even if he might not remember it.

You sighed, knowing your little schoolgirl crush was going to be the death of you.

Bucky lay in bed that night, as he did most nights since coming to the compound, with his hands down his pants.

He liked to start off slow, usually. On the odd occasion, he would want it fast, his hands working overtime on his cock as he showered, water streaming over his body as he pumped himself to completion. He would cum hard each time, bracing himself against the shower tiles, your name on his lips.

But usually he liked to take his time. Enjoyed painting a picture in his mind, a mental porno in which you were the star.

God, you had been so fucking cute today. Bucky loved watching you squirm, seeing you blush, practically see the blood rushing to your cheeks.

He had playfully orchestrated the encounter in the hallway, able to smell your subtle perfume with his elevated senses (it had the smell of vanilla and sakura blossoms) as you power walked through the compound.

He was delighted when you practically unravelled in front of him just from a simple stare and a sweep of his fingers. He wondered what you would be like if he ever got you in front of him, naked, ready to take his cock.

His hand palmed his semi-hard erection as he settled back against the pillows, eyes closed. He teased himself, fingers gently tapping his dick, pulling slightly at his balls.

Your face was fixed in his mind. He recalled your wide, shocked eyes, your mouth open in a small ‘O’ as you gasped.

He imagined that mouth stretching wider, tongue lolling out, asking to suck his cock. You would be on your knees as he stood over you, feeding his dick into your warm cavern, and you would take as much as you could like a good girl. So eager to please.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky hissed, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants and freeing himself completely.

His cock was heavy and thick as it lay against his stomach, twitching slightly as his mind filled itself with the most lewd images of you.

Of course he knew your name. He had asked Steve for it after the first few times he’d spotted you, playing it off as a casual inquiry.

He moaned it now as he dragged drops of his pre-cum down his shaft, wishing it was your hands that was wrapped around his length.

Somehow he found it thrilling, the idea of you believing that he had no clue who you were. He wondered what your reaction would be if you could see him now, rendered a horny, sweaty mess as he masturbated to thoughts of you and only you.

He imagined you spread out in front of him, legs wide, panting and begging for him to fuck your tight pussy. He would slap the head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it against your wet folds, teasing.

In reality, he knew that if he ever found himself in that position, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Hell, he’d be the one begging you to let him fuck you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Bucky grunted, his hand beginning to move at a steady tempo. If he went too fast, he would definitely cum within seconds, and he wanted to make this last.

He imagined being able to fondle your soft breasts, imagined being able use his mouth on your nipples, wanting to suckle on your tits. He imagined being allowed to kiss every inch of your body, from your toes, up the inner thighs, through the valley of your breasts and to your lips.

He would kiss you with passion and fire, tongue searching yours, wet and hot and needy. He would cup his hand behind your neck, fuck into you slowly and make you moan his name into his mouth.

He tried to imagine how that would sound like, high pitched and breathy.

“Beg for me,” Bucky said aloud, his hand moving up and down his cock as he fantasised about it moving in and out of your cunt instead. “God, beg me to cum inside you.”

He bet your soaking pussy would feel ten times better than jerking off alone in his room, but for now, this was the best he could get. He imagined rutting into you, hard, watching you shake under him as you became undone.

“You gonna let me cum inside you, princess?” He groaned, feeling himself reach the edge. He could see you in his mind, touching your own clit, pleasuring yourself as Bucky’s fat cock disappeared inside you over and over and over again.

You would beg for him to breed you, to fill you up, that sweet mouth speaking the filthiest words.

“Ah - ah fuck, I’ll give it to you, you’re taking it all like a good girl,” Bucky gasped, his hand clenching around his thick, veiny cock before he released all the pent up sexual frustration inside.

Creamy, hot ropes of cum spurted out, onto his stomach. He steadily stroked himself through the high, imagining you crying out as you orgasmed, imagining you being filled up with his seed.

He envisioned how it would look as he continued to thrust, you letting yourself be used, whimpering at the over stimulation.

Bucky was breathing rapidly, body finally going lax as his sticky hand released his softening cock. His heart was beating rapidly as he licked his lips, sighing longingly.

One day, he thought, almost a prayer, one day I’ll get to see what you look like when you cum.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky smut #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fic #Bucky x you smut #Bucky x you PWP

[jensettermandu]

open heart - yu jimin

(valentine's day special)

genre; smut, fluff, gets cheesy at times

pairing; g!p karina x female reader

content; age gap (jimin is older), rough sex, hair pulling, praising, degrading names (?), fingering (reader receiving), p in v :D, think i forgot something

synopsis; jimin had never been the romantic type, but she wanted to try and make valentine's day work out despite how much work she and her girlfriend had because working at a hospital meant being on call 24/7. however to her luck, nothing unfortunately went as planned right from the morning because of simple misunderstandings and she ended up raking her brain for how to fix everything

wc; 12k+

masterlist.

a/n: im no doctor peeps, i just occasionally watch grey's anatomy so if anything is not correct medically that's not on me

It was enough that they were busy, that they didn’t have time for dates, and when they did they were already tired after working nonstop for hours. Night shifts, day shifts, working overtime, working for 12 hours a day if not 16 or 24. Being on call 24/7 as in literally because they were always on call.

That couldn’t be enough stress.

Y/n’s day got even worse as she stood in the patient's room, at 7:30 am, fully changed into her dull light blue scrubs and the white lab coat like every other intern in the room. She was exhausted, not because she was tired, but because of how her morning had started. 

The whole reason why she was doing her best to avoid Jimin’s eyes who stood on the opposite end of the bed as they were doing rounds. It was obvious enough, so obvious that she sucked air through her teeth and shot her fellow intern and friend over the time she’s worked there, Yunjin a glance when she nudged Y/n. She tried to get Y/n’s attention, curious about what had happened, the two pushing each other’s hands until Y/n gripped the red heads hand to keep it in place because it was starting to make their other attending doctor look their way all while Minjeong spoke–Y/n standing in the middle of the two. 

“Mrs Lee has a history of heart disease and multiple surgeries—” Minjeong who was yet another intern and friend with the two started. 

The two attending doctors consisted of Yu Jimin, head of cardiothoracic surgery and the general surgeon Miyawaki Sakura. Both of them were listening yet Jimin’s eyes were not on her patient, but on the intern, the one who she was a boss to in the workplace. 

“In for a beating heart quadruple C.A.B.G.” She finished explaining as they all stood around the older woman who lay in the hospital bed. 

“On Valentine’s Day.” Mark chuckled, it was enough to make all heads turn to the male intern who got nudged by Taeyong at the comment he made. “Sorry.” He apologised, and Sakura sighed as she was responsible for the interns. There was one thing for sure, this was the best yet the most difficult batch to keep in check as they were all talented interns with passions and a thing for doing things their way at times. 

Not to mention with a thing for other forbidden things too.

Jimin cleared her throat, and her stare fell back on Y/n who tried to avoid it, but it didn’t seem to work. The–technically–heart doctor had other plans. 

“Why keep the heart beating doctor Y/l/n?” In the end, the girl was the most talented intern out of all. 

Y/n forced a smile towards the older woman, hands in the pockets of her lab coat to avoid any more nudges from her friends. The two girls on each side of her looked at Y/n, eyes subtly glancing between the two. This time Y/n met eyes with the doctor who gave a small nod for the girl to talk. 

“Scar tissue is too deep–” The girl started, glancing at the older woman in the bed. Y/n knew very well why Jimin asked her. Whoever answered got to be on the case and Y/n knew that she couldn’t say no even if the rest knew the answer too. It would make her look bad and Jimin too if she lied and said that she didn’t know. It was a prestigious hospital. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was a doctor or intern saying that they didn’t know something. Of course, she would trap her just to talk because Y/n was good at avoiding someone if she wanted to. “The heart is too weak to start up again, so you only immobilise the portion you’re working on and you leave the rest of the heart on its own.” 

“Welcome to the case, Y/l/n.” Was all that Jimin said as she closed the thick patient file, making Y/n purse her lips as it got extended over the bed and with no other choice she took it. 

[A few hours earlier]

“Why are you still angry?” Jimin asked, trying her best to understand why the girl in the passenger seat was still pissed. She knew Y/n, and she knew how she acted when she was angry. The intern would ignore her, give her the cold shoulder, and if it got too much she would speak up because she always had something to say so giving her the cold shoulder was difficult. 

“What do you expect me to be, Jimin?” Y/n at last spoke up, looking out the window as they were driving through the early morning of Seoul. It was cold, but in February it gradually started to get better and the snow wasn’t present anymore. That didn’t mean that the mornings weren’t even more difficult because the last thing anyone wanted was to get up at 5:30 am, to get out of a warm bed and get out into the cold.

That was probably the worst part of the day, usually–Y/n was quite sure that the whole day was ruined for her because of Jimin. They never fought, it always worked out with small bickering here and there, but this was where Y/n drew the line at what was acceptable. It was enough that they were keeping their relationship secret–aside from Y/n’s friends knowing–a doctor dating an intern who worked under her would not look good for either of them. The last thing they needed to be accused of was favouritism or anything along those lines. 

The only reason why Y/n got picked so often was because of how skilful she was, not because Jimin and she were dating.  

“Not this angry?” Jimin unsurely questioned, her eyes glancing between Y/n and the road as they were in her car. The younger had spent the night with her at her apartment since Y/n lived with roommates–Yunjin and Minjeong–the doctor also lived closer to the hospital. All she wanted to do was turn back time to the morning when her alarm clock went off and prevent the fight from happening when they were still lying under the covers naked after the previous night.  

Jimin wasn’t the biggest romantic, matter fact she was terrible at extraordinary romantic gestures. Valentine’s Day had just started and she had already managed to mess up.  

She scratched at the back of her head, trying to figure out what she could even do if they both worked a 24-hour shift all while Y/n was talking. The doctor was listening though, she knew how to think and listen at the same time. 

“We’ve been together for almost five months and you’re still texting with your ex?”

Jimin knew she messed up, but it wasn’t for the reasons that Y/n thought that she messed up. She didn’t have any time to defend herself because there was more than just texting. 

“Not to mention, you never mentioned that your ex is working in the department next to ours.”

It all just started to pile up more and more and Jimin had a hard time gathering her words as she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She never thought that it would matter since it was her ex, but maybe she hadn’t thought far enough. Far enough to think that it would ever come up somehow. Now it had and she realised that she had dug her own grave.

She had to explain why she was texting her ex all while trying to figure out what she could do for Y/n on Valentine’s Day. 

“What does it matter if I am with you and love you?” Was the best she could say because the intern in the car with her had stolen her heart. It was as if Y/n had laid her down on that operating table, cut her open and taken her heart out while Jimin was under anaesthesia because she had no clue when it even happened. 

“What does it matter? It matters if you’re still hung up on her.” 

The car came to a stop as she parked in her spot outside the biggest hospital in Seoul. The doctor turned in her seat and looked at the younger girl. Y/n looked right back at Jimin who looked at her in disbelief, but at the same time, she did her best to understand why Y/n would think that. She knew that she wouldn’t be too fond of Y/n texting with her ex. 

“I am not.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at that and unbuckled the belt. “Then why is she in your contacts?” She questioned, grabbing her things before opening the door. Jimin quickly tried her best to hurry up and get out of her seatbelt while trying to stop the girl from walking out on her this angry. 

“Y/n you’re–” Jimin groaned as the belt had to get jammed as she continued to pull on it. 

A cold wave brushed along her skin and hit her even harder when the door to her car slammed closed and she gave up on trying to undo her belt. The woman heaved a sigh and leaned back in the seat, watching her girlfriend walk ahead and meet in the middle with the batch of interns she was close with. 

It would be a long 24-hour shift.

[Present]

Jimin did her best to focus on the elderly woman whose heart she would be operating while Y/n was in the room with her. Her eyes kept glancing between the stethoscope she was using on Mrs Lee’s back and Y/n who was moving around and organising the rest of the stuff. All while informing the woman of how extensive the operation would be, making sure she knew the risks. 

She was wondering why she was never informed of the risks of falling for an intern like Y/n. 

The girl was too much for her poor heart.

“We’ll get you to the O.R. this afternoon,” Jimin concluded, removing the stethoscope and helping the woman lean back down before putting it around her shoulder. She could feel Y/n’s presence right behind her, looking over her shoulder. “You do understand the risks?” She asked to make sure, her eyes looking between Mrs Lee and her husband who sat in the chair in the corner of the room. It made her wonder how they felt on a day like this because she was feeling quite forlorn at the moment. 

Y/n was stubborn. 

“I’ll check back later,” Jimin informed Mrs Lee after getting the answer she needed. The doctor did not have time to grab the patient file when Y/n already had it. With one last polite smile, she quickly caught up to the intern who had just stepped out of the room. 

“Y/n, can we talk?” She questioned, her hand gently wrapping around the girl’s forearm as she stopped her and pulled her to the side right outside the room. It was hard to talk in the crowded area as they were constantly passed by nurses, interns, and doctors. Gossip spread like butter on a toast in the hospital. 

“If it’s about the patient, then go ahead Doctor Yu.”  

Now the last name came to play and so Jimin knew that it would take a lot more to get Y/n to listen to her. Or maybe the best thing to do was to let her blow off steam as it had only been a few hours since she snapped in the car. 

“Take her for a thallium scan and pick up her x-rays on the way.”

However, she just wanted to try and get a word in, to test the waters and see if Y/n was willing to forgive her for this. Her grip stayed when Y/n was about to walk. The girl who was just an inch taller stopped and the two looked at each other. Y/n’s features were soft yet they could come off sharp, especially her eyes and Jimin always got lost in her. It was enough to let her know that she had no room for mistakes. There were hearts at stake here, but she was quite sure that this wouldn’t cause any hearts to break.

Love was somehow more difficult than any open-heart operation she had ever performed.  

The noise of the hospital was almost deafening as so much was going on around them yet there was still that calm and silence among them because it was a hospital. The white almost blinding interior with the faint sound of machines smelled of antiseptic and it was a scent that brought comfort to the both of them because of how much time they spent at work. It was almost as comforting as listening to the beating of each other’s hearts and dwelling in the scent of one another, but even that scent would mix with the hospitals after being in it for hours. 

“She and I texted–” 

It was as if the only thing on her side today was despair and luck had thrown itself out the window on the highest floor in the hospital and splattered into a puddle with no one there to save it. Was there something she could do right today? It was enough that she sucked at romantic gestures yet still wanted to do something for Y/n, but when she wanted to try the world was opposing the idea. 

“Doctor Yu, intern Y/l/n—” Y/n looked away from Jimin whose grip slipped away from her arm and at the woman whom she couldn’t be mad at because Jimin was the one who wasn’t supposed to be texting her. She couldn’t be angry at the doctor who approached them. The intern smiled at her, politely bowing her head while Jimin kept her crumbling composure as she looked at her ex. 

“Can I borrow Doctor Yu for a second?” The woman questioned. Jimin looked between Y/n and the paediatrician from the department next to theirs. All she got from Y/n was a smile, her eyes sparkling in the fluorescent yet dull light of the hospital. 

“She’s all yours, Doctor Yizhuo.” 

And so Y/n left Jimin once again who watched the girl disappear after taking a turn, her eyes falling onto the woman in front of her. 

“Repairing hearts on Valentine’s Day when you should start with your own.” 

“Please shut up.” Y/n politely said as she sat down at the round table in the staff canteen, placing the tray with food down. Minjeong sucked air through her teeth as Yunjin chuckled. Despite being on Jimin’s case Y/n had been taking care of Mrs Lee alone and only talked to the doctor when it was needed, strictly work-related as she tried to give her the cold shoulder. 

It was lunch break at last and soon she would be in the operating room, doing an open heart surgery by Jimin’s side. The head of cardiothoracic surgery. She knew that the doctor had something to say, but she first needed to phantom the fact that she had been with Jimin for almost five months and suddenly she was texting her ex. Why would she never tell her that her ex was a woman she met every day and at times worked with together? 

“Why are you avoiding Doctor Heart Snatcher?” She rolled her eyes at Yunjin’s words–nickname coming from her field and looks– the two guys looked at them as everyone wanted an answer as to why Y/n was avoiding Jimin. Not only that but why the heart doctor’s lingering gaze lingered more than usual. It was almost filled with longing despite the two being in the same room. It was difficult to look at for them.

“She’s texting with her ex,” Y/n grumbled, using the chopsticks to play around with the food on her tray as she could barely eat from the bitterness that covered her heart. It was causing her heart to twist at the sour bitterness that got caused by being away from each other. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to mend it by simply going to the person who was an expert when it came to hearts. In a few hours, she had to be in the O.R. and would be stuck in that room with Jimin for six hours if not more. 

“What?” Mark was the one to exclaim first, pushing his tray forward and resting his elbows on the table to lean closer to the girl who sat opposite him. 

“Are you serious?” Yunjin asked next, looking at Y/n with her head tilted. 

“Yes she still has her ex in her contacts and…” Y/n trailed off, still baffled by the fact that she had even worked with Jimin’s ex without knowing it. It wasn’t like she would let it get in the way because she was professional at work, but she would have felt less of a fool if she had known. It was almost embarrassing to admit.

“And?” Taeyong asked.

“She works here,” her voice withered as she said it in a whisper. Minjeong offered her comfort by patting her thigh before going back to eat her food. “Told you it was a bad idea to date Doctor Heart Snatcher.” She mumbled and Y/n dismissed her as she grabbed the water bottle, unscrewing it. The vixen frowned. This wasn’t enough to make her doubt Jimin was it? Has it been a bad idea to date her?

“If she knows how to fix a heart she surely knows how to break it too,” Mark commented.

“She hasn’t broken my heart–” Y/n cleared the air as they made it sound like they were going through a break-up when all she was doing was taking some time to process it. “I’m just pissed she didn’t tell me and that she is texting her for whatever reason.” The longer that she thought about it the better it would be to hear the reason why. Maybe she had been a bit too impulsive with her accusations and should have listened to Jimin first. At the same time, she was too stubborn to let her ego down and ask after avoiding listening to her in the first place. 

“Who is it though?” Taeyong questioned and Y/n subtly glanced around. The canteen was busy with staff members who had their breaks, everyone eating together and chatting. Natural light was cast through the big windows and this was one of the few places that wasn’t as dull because of the eye-hurting fluorescent lights. It was always busy, but not with people running because their pagers went off or pushing patients through the halls. Shoes didn’t squeak as loud because it all got muffled by the people who were talking. 

The scent of antiseptics wasn’t present either and that was what stole comfort from this place for Y/n. 

“I’m not telling.” She knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal her girlfriend’s past and private relationships to anyone even if they were her friends. It was enough that they knew about their relationship even if they had been hiding it for the first few months until Yunjin walked in on them about to remove each other’s clothes after forgetting to lock the on-call room. Luckily enough it was Yunjin and not someone else who could get them in trouble–such as any envious workers or Jimin’s boss who did not tolerate doctors dating first-year interns. 

“I bet it’s that nurse Aeri, they’re so close.” Yunjin started to guess as Y/n ignored what they were saying, trying to eat some of the food to be able to stand in the O.R. for six hours. 

“Why would she be close with her ex?” 

“Well, she’s texting her so they’re still close.”

“Texting and talking face to face is different.” 

“Not when it’s your ex.”

“What if it’s Doctor Miyawaki?” 

“That would be even worse.”

“Do you guys not have your own private lives to worry about? As far as I remember neither of you have any plans for Valentine’s Day and that’s why you all took the 24-hour shift.” The intern finally came back into the conversation that died down right after she finished her words. 

“I’d say something, but Doctor Heart Snatcher is on her way here.” Y/n looked up from her tray and looked to her right where Yunjin was and looking past the girl she spotted Jimin. No matter how pissed she was, there was no room in her to deny how attractive her Heart Snatcher actually was in her navy blue scrubs, white lab coat, her black hair up in a ponytail, and her eyes always on Y/n.

This was the same woman who she would stand with for six hours in the O.R. and both of them loved their job enough to not get distracted by each other. It was yet another thing Y/n loved about Jimin, the fact that she managed to learn so much from her and how work and relationship-oriented she was and made it work out with this demanding job.

She made it so much harder to avoid her and before Y/n knew it the woman was by their table, hands in the pockets of her white coat, the nameplate pinned right over her right breast by the small pocket with a blue ballpoint pen. 

“Y/l/n could we talk for a second?” Jimin asked, clearing her throat as their eyes were on her as she stood by the edge of the table where Yunjin was. Her eyes scanned over no one else but Y/n who opened her mouth, making the doctor wait in anticipation. The intern was only in her scrubs now, her hair clipped back with her wispy bangs gently falling over her face. Jimin didn’t even want to look at anyone else. 

“Oh–” Y/n let out surprised, pushing her tray forward and planting her hands against the table. “Oh, that’s my pager, I’m sorry Doctor Yu, I have to prioritise the patients.” The intern excused, pushing herself up from the chair as she bowed at her boss to be polite. Jimin felt even more confused and she watched the girl walk away with a slight job, still sure that she did not hear her pager go off at all. It was somewhat humiliating, but she probably deserved it. She heaved a sigh and looked down at the rest to see Minjeong suppress the snicker with a cough. 

“Was I the only one who didn’t hear her pager go off?” She questioned them as she removed her one hand from the pocket and rubbed the back of her neck, she looked where Y/n was to see the girl walk out of the canteen. 

“Nope, I 100% heard it…” Yunjin said, looking up at the doctor. 

“Yeah, it went off,” Minjeong confirmed and Jimin looked back down at them with her lips pursed. 

“Kind of loud in here so you probably didn’t catch it,” Mark added. 

“Exactly.” And Taeyong finished. 

She knew that she had run off because she felt stupid for not listening to Jimin the first time she tried to explain it. It was one of the causes and now more doubt had grown in her from hearing her coworkers talk about it. The perspective only got worse as she walked to the changing room that they all shared. It was empty and her pager never went off. She not only was texting, but talking, however, they worked together at times so they obviously would talk face to face. 

Y/n knew that she had no reason to be insecure. 

With a sigh, she opened her locker and stopped from reaching for her phone when the little pink sticky note caught her eye as it was stuck right to the locker door on the inside. She had no lock on her locker, no one did since everyone knew each other well enough to know that no one would steal anything. It was the first time she had any notes stuck on the inside of her door though. 

The girl licked her lips and took it down to read what the blue letters said.

Our hearts are a muscular pump, that’s why exercise is so good, but just one look at you and mine gets the exercise it needs. 

She didn’t know what to think, but the thought of it being Jimin to leave it there made her suppress a smile. Y/n couldn’t be sure though because the woman never said things like these and she might as well be smiling over a note that someone else left because there were a few other interns interested in the girl. Jimin wasn’t romantic, she had her ways of showing love, but they never came this way. The intern folded it and stuffed it into her jacket’s pocket so she could ask her girlfriend if she was the one behind it. 

Y/n didn’t expect a next time, but the next time she did stumble upon a note was when she went back to Mrs Lee to take her vitals and she opened the patient files. Soon enough she had the open heart operation she would get to watch Jimin perform as she would help. It did let her narrow it down to who it could be but she was doubting that the male nurse was leaving the notes since he wasn’t supposed to be in the intern's locker room and neither was Jimin, but still. 

She bit her lower lip and glanced up from the file at the woman with her husband, red roses standing by her bed with a card. Y/n had never been big on these things, but she realised that maybe she was if just a note made her feel a bit giddier because of Jimin than she usually got. The words were so cheesy, but somehow that made it even better. 

The reason why my heart receives blood that is low on oxygen is because you always steal my breath.

It was melting the facade Y/n had tried to keep the whole day just to show how pissed she was, but Jimin made it impossible. It was impossible to stay mad at her girlfriend because with each second that passed in the operating room, Y/n realised how good of a girlfriend Jimin was. 

The intern stayed focused on the task at hand just like everyone else did. Somewhere between those blurry lines between focus and daydreaming, she found herself staring at the beating heart. 

She knew that love wasn’t connected to the heart, all emotions were regulated in the brain. However, the only thing she realised whenever she was in a room with Jimin was the way the doctor made her heart beat faster. It was the sole reason why love was associated with the heart. The heart spoke for love and no one listened to their head when it came to love. Despite the brain regulating these emotions, it was the heart that let her know that it was Jimin who hit the bell and made her heart ring. 

The only time she did notice her heartbeat was with Jimin because she made it pick up its pace. 

The heart they were operating was right in the open and partially numb but beating and somewhere along those lines was how they made each other feel. They numbed everything around them, leaving their hearts right in the open for the other to reach for it and nestle inside of it. 

“Mrs Lee is doing well.” The doctor commented, making Y/n lean in slightly closer to Jimin to get a better look at the beating muscle as they stood shoulder to shoulder with each other. The intern was taking care of the suction and the operation was coming to an end, making the rest strike up small conversations.

“Did you know that the heart can beat even when it’s disconnected from the body?” Jimin mumbled, making Y/n subtly glance at her for a split second before looking right back down. Y/n knowingly hummed at the words, wondering what Jimin was trying to reach since these were random facts and nothing new she was learning. 

“That’s why mine is still beating.”

“What?” The vixen questioned, her eyebrows furrowing at the words that confused her. 

“It’s in your hands.” 

Y/n widened her eyes at the bold words Jimin said out loud and only confirmed that she was the culprit behind the notes. It was bold, not because she said them, but because she said those words while everyone stood in the theatre above and could hear them talking. Was this some kind of statement? Was she trying to prove something? Maybe Y/n was reading too much into it, but Jimin barely referred to her as Y/n when someone else was around just to not get caught. 

“Doctor–” The girl tried, unsure of where Jimin was heading with this because if this was a statement Y/n was getting flustered. Suddenly she felt worried that Jimin’s boss was possibly up there watching them and was hearing this. It would get them both in trouble. However, she did not get to stop her because the doctor had other plans. 

“There are four chambers in the heart, each holds about 70 ml of blood–although each one of mine is filled with you.” Y/n’s eyes glanced at Jimin again, but quickly went back down to the heart that was beating steadily compared to the wild horses in her chest. The doctor looked mostly unaffected but that wasn’t weird since she was supposed to be composed under pressure. Y/n knew how to take pressure without letting her knees buckle, but Jimin truly made hers weak in a way no one else did. 

The words were so cheesy and it only made it worse, especially if everyone else was hearing them. 

It burned her ears and she wanted to hide.

Y/n barely had time to register that the operation was successful and had ended by the thoughts racing in her head. However, Jimin stepped back, holding out her hands as they pulled off the thick gloves she had been using to operate. There was no time to ask questions now as everyone was praising the other, saying ‘good job’ because it was a team effort in the end. The vixen removed her single-use gloves and threw them in the trash as she undid her mask and took it off after walking towards the exit. 

Finally, Jimin’s eyes met her, those brown eyes were so much more intense now and Y/n wanted to hear every little thought that was behind them, especially the reason behind this. The two of them walked out of the room where they just had to stitch the woman up. 

“What was all that about?” She questioned in genuine confusion, unsure if her tone was harsh or just confused. Her hand reached for the surgical cap and she removed it while the older woman was already washing her hands in the big sink as they were the only ones in the scrub room. Jimin only hummed back with just as much confusion, and now it was coming off as a confusing game to Y/n. Was the doctor messing with her? Or was all this genuine? 

Jimin wasn’t cruel to mess with her this way. 

“Why were you saying all that in front of everyone?”

“You didn’t like what I said?” Jimin confusedly asked and looked to the side where Y/n stood and washed her hands. Her eyes lingered on the girl who was staring down at the water that was running down the drain. The question made her look up though and she shook her head with a frown as it wasn’t what she meant. 

“That’s not– that’s not what I meant.” She didn’t have the cheesy lines in mind, but the fact that they were said in front of everyone else. In the next hour, it would be known around the whole hospital that there was something between them. Gossip was always working its 24/7 shift at the place without any breaks. 

“Then it doesn’t matter.” She concluded, turning off the faucet and flicking her fingers to rid of the excess water before reaching for the paper towels in the soundless room.

It truly felt like some little game to Y/n now. Was Jimin fooling around now? If so Y/n wanted her to admit to it now. 

“What doesn’t matter?”

The intern turned off her faucet, grabbing the paper towels she got handed by the doctor who removed her surgical cap. She shrugged at Y/n’s question and reached over to the girl who almost flinched away at the intimate touch when Jimin brushed a hair strand away from her face. It wasn’t intimate on that level, but it was when the door from the operating room opened and the rest were starting to walk inside. 

“If everyone heard it. If you liked it then it doesn’t matter.” She gave Y/n a small smile, hand dropping down and giving the younger’s shoulder a light squeeze before she passed her. Y/n turned on her heels, following out right after her though. The area was empty as people only walked by occasionally and at the corner of her eye she could see Minjeong and Yunjin waiting at the top of the stairs, trying to stay out of sight to listen in on the two. Doing a poor job at staying subtle at all because even Jimin glanced at them. 

“Jimin–hold on, you can’t just walk away without finishing this.” This time Y/n was the one to grab the woman’s hand that was warm to the touch and Jimin grabbed hold of the girl’s hand. She squeezed her before letting go as she turned to look at Y/n. There was something about the soft smile on her lips, but it wasn’t enough for Y/n to figure it out. She needed more, but she wasn’t getting more. 

“Sorry, I have to get going, I have something important to do.”

“What is more important than our relationship right now?” Y/n seriously questioned only to not get an answer as the doctor walked away without another word. There was no way the intern was going to chase after the doctor who seemed in a rush. 

Was she getting back at her?

Was this really how her Valentine’s Day would look like? Despite the anger she had felt before, she was longing for Jimin. 

She looked towards the stairs to see Yunjin and Minjeong quickly walking down them and it made Y/n start walking away from them. It wasn’t a second before they caught up to her, hooking their arms with hers to make her walk with them. 

“There are four chambers in my heart–” Yunjin started with a sigh, leaning into the intern. “Each filled with you.” Minjeong finished with another sigh. 

“Who was up there?” Y/n questioned instead, ignoring the teasing and how they repeated the words that had come from Jimin. 

“Honestly, Doctor Kim was there, and a bunch of interns.” Doctor Kim who specialised in neurology was another Doctor whom they worked with just like they did with Jimin. It made Y/n suck air through her teeth as she knew how much stricter Kim Chaewon was compared to Jimin. 

“What if she tells the Chief?” Y/n knew about the two competing surgeons as both wanted to be the next chief of surgery. This could ruin Jimin’s chances and Y/n was now drowning in worry and a twinge of anger at how careless the heart doctor was. 

“Then you will most likely get in trouble.” Yunjin deadpanned, receiving a look from Y/n and Minjeong at how much worse it made everything. The girl was already aware of how they could get in trouble. They had been secretive about it for a reason. It wasn’t like it was forbidden, but the chief of surgery would deem it unprofessional and have his doubts about giving the position to Jimin next. 

“I just need a snack and then I am taking a nap.” Y/n declared as she slipped her arms out of the two girl’s hold and stopped at the vending machine. The two leaned on each side of the vending machine, keeping the conversation going as they looked at Y/n who looked like she was in a huge dilemma. 

The vixen was worried about what could happen now. She knew Doctor Kim could bite just for it to sting and hurt because she would do everything to become the next chief. She could be cruel. 

Did that mean she would have to break up with Jimin? Or Jimin with her. For the security of her spot as the next chief. 

“Oh, Doctor Heart Snatcher has you in the mood for a snack?” Yunjin teased to lighten the mood she by accident had made worse. Y/n glanced at the redhead who shot her eyebrows up in a suggestive manner as she looked her up and down while doing so. All it took was for the intern to walk in on them making out once and all hell let loose because she made Y/n look like a sex addict–which she was not, if anything she blamed Jimin. 

Minjeong seemed to get a different memo by the words as she leaned closer to Y/n with her shoulder holding her up against the vending machine as Y/n crouched down to get her stuff. 

“Are you pregnant?” She asked in a whisper and Y/n glanced up at her in silence while getting the bun from the slot. 

“That is not what she meant by that, Minjeong.” 

It left the girl thinking for a bit as Y/n stood up, now the two taller girls stood and watched Minjeong piece it together. “Oh…Oh! Oh, that kind of snack.” She exclaimed, realising that it held a dirty meaning and not pregnancy cravings. 

“Yeah, but the snack that I mean is a bun and then sleep since Doctor Yu seemingly is ignoring me now after ruining our future together,” Y/n explained as she showed the pack she had picked up before walking away from the two to head to the lockers and get her phone before heading to the on-call room. 

“Already thinking about a future together.” Yunjin snorted as she pushed herself up to use the vending machine. 

“You’re just jealous no one asked you out for Valentine’s Day.” 

“We’re in the same shoes.” 

“Speak for yourself, I’m not on the 24-hour shift, matter fact I am heading out right now because I have dinner plans.” Minjeong smugly said as she started to walk away.

“Dinner with your mum does not count.” 

“Shut up, at least I got asked for dinner by someone.”

Y/n grumbled under her breath, the pack with the bun between her teeth as she was busy with her phone while walking. The walk to the locker and then to the on-call room took an extra ten minutes because she had to speak to Mrs Lee's husband and tell him about her procedure. Jimin would usually do so, but she had disappeared into thin air and left it for Y/n to handle.

The text was for Jimin, hoping she had her phone on her to answer because Y/n knew she was on a break after the 12-hour shift they had worked. All they were to do now was be on call while resting and they would be called in during the next 12 hours. Y/n knew that soon enough her break would be over, she gave it an hour, a chance of a bit more. She needed more because she needed to talk to Jimin. 

She opened the door and was just about to send the text, but was stopped by the voice. 

“Finally, Doctor Y/l/n.” The voice startled Y/n who looked up, quickly catching the bun that fell from between her lips. 

“Jimin,” Y/n exclaimed somewhere between annoyed and still startled by the unexpected guest yet one she had hoped for. She turned off her phone and stepped inside fully as she closed and locked the door after her. Her eyes landed on the doctor who was in only her scrubs now, her hair down as she sat at the edge of the twin-sized bed. 

“Come here.” She gestured, holding her hand out and Y/n raised her eyebrows. She hesitated, especially after what had happened between them a good 30 minutes ago. Jimin gave her a nod of reassurance and motioned with her fingers for Y/n to walk over to her. It was all it took for Y/n to push herself up from the door, placing her stuff down on the table on the way before taking hold of Jimin’s hand. 

The woman pulled Y/n over to her and pulled her until she had the girl in her lap, straddling her. “Are you going to say something cheesy and run off again?” Jimin chuckled, looking up at Y/n, her one hand caressed along the girl's thigh while the other reached up to her. She reached her hand over to the back of Y/n’s hair and took out the hair clamp, letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders while putting the clamp aside.

“Do you want me to say something cheesy again?” She questioned, her hand ran to Y/n’s hip as she pulled the girl even closer to her, making the latter grab hold of her shoulder. 

“Yeah, but I’d like to know what you were thinking and about what happened this morning. Some cheesy lines won’t make me forget.” It made the doctor hum, her hands gently roamed Y/n’s body, caressing and slowly finding their way under the shirt she had on to touch her waist. Their eye contact didn’t falter for a second and it was then and there that they both realised their heartbeat that had picked up. 

This was love, the brain may have registered it, but the heart felt it. 

“Okay, I had to talk to the chief about something and do something else too…” Jimin trailed off, her eyes shifted away from Y/n’s this time. It made Y/n frown as she tilted her head, waiting for the woman to continue. She sighed and dropped her hands, fingers carefully playing with the material of Y/n’s scrubs as she licked her lips before she continued with her eyes back on Y/n’s. 

“I talked to the chief about—well, about us because it’s been almost five months and I thought it would only be fair for you and me if I talked to him about it instead of assuming that he would be truly against it.” 

“What?” Y/n asked, her eyes sporting a look of even more confusion and worry. There were only two possible ways for this to end and she only wanted one of them, but it felt like the one she didn’t want had a stronger chance of being true. 

“Wait, don’t worry…He was just a bit disappointed that I am in a relationship with a first-year intern, but somewhere along the lines he understood that it doesn’t interrupt our professionalism.” 

“So, it’s fine?” Y/n asked to clarify, feeling the weight untie itself from around her heart as she caressed Jimin’s warm neck. Her fingers gently traced her skin, feeling the faint goosebumps and shivers that came from the older one. Jimin held onto Y/n’s forearms as Y/n intertwined her fingers behind the doctor's neck who nodded.

The girl had been right, Jimin was trying to make a statement even if it was reckless since she did it before talking to the chief. 

“I hope you can listen to me now without slamming a door closed in my face.” The intern rolled her eyes at the words as she hadn’t given Jimin a chance to speak earlier. It seemed like the perfect opportunity had been created because they were both still dwelling on the fact that their relationship didn’t have to be a secret. “No interrupting either.” Y/n nodded, giving in as Jimin’s thumbs softly caressed the skin of her forearms. 

“I don’t even have small remnants of feelings left for her as it never was serious and that was why it ended. It’s always work-related because if you had taken your time to check you would see that she was asking for my work number because of an upcoming operation and while at it she only asked how everything was going in my department and it ended after I replied.”

Feeling stupid was an understatement. 

It made Y/n clear her throat and glance away, Jimin trying to find the girl’s pretty eyes because she always liked having eye contact with Y/n. The girl kept avoiding eye contact and it drove Jimin to reach for her jaw and make her look at her. 

“See, baby, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it was, but maybe if you had listened to me you would have spared yourself some nerves.” There was that tone that made Y/n’s facade crumble and melt right into Jimin. 

“Okay…Maybe I did react a bit quick, but you don’t expect your girlfriend to text with their ex and so it just came with a shock with no time to think.” Y/n tried to explain, doing her best not to melt into a puddle right away and hold herself a bit longer even if the ice was melting because of the warmth of Jimin.

“And I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner.” It made Y/n lean in, Jimin moving her hands to hold the girl's waist. Their lips met after a long day of itching to ease the loss of not being against each other. It was a simple kiss, coated in honey as Jimin held onto the girl’s waist.

“I forgive you,” Y/n mumbled and tried to kiss her again, but was stopped as the doctor turned her body and Y/n watched her reach over by the pillow. She chuckled at what she had missed when she got dragged into Jimin’s lap and the doctor turned back around. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Jimin knew that it wasn’t much, yet the smile on Y/n’s plump lips let her know that it was more than enough when she accepted the brown fuzzy bear that was hugging a rose. The girl took it with both hands as she looked at the bear. Considering how busy they were, she knew that even getting a hold of a teddy bear was a great task and it only meant so much more to the girl. 

“I also have another line for you.”

“Yeah?” Y/n questioned and Jimin nodded.

“There are three layers of the heart wall, you have broken down each of them and gotten to the middle in a way no one else ever has–” This time the words were deeper, they weren’t just some cheesy pickup line, but a confession that was growing deeper than love. It let Y/n know that Jimin loved her but did more than just love her, she trusted her as she had opened her heart to her. It wasn’t easy, especially because of how they barely had lives outside the hospital, but yet here they were, making it work. 

“You seriously have, doll.” 

“I love you so much.” Y/n groaned and wrapped her arms around Jimin’s shoulders before attaching their lips again. This time the kiss picked up gradually when their lips parted and their tongues met in warmth and slickness. The doctor pushed her tongue against Y/n’s, pressing and tilting her head to get closer. 

With ease, she manoeuvred them around and laid Y/n down on the bed who dropped the bear right beside her head as Jimin got between her legs. Their breathing grew deeper in the small on-call room, slowly heating it as the small ventilation wasn’t enough to cool the heat their bodies produced when they were with each other. Especially when they were so close. 

“I love you.” She barely managed to breathe out between their desperate breaths as she bunched up the pillow case in her fists. Y/n hummed, catching Jimin’s lips again, her legs wrapped around the woman’s waist, pulling her closer, close enough to feel her cock slowly growing hard against her heat. It was enough to make her groan and push closer into Y/n, her hips started to gyrate to get the much-needed friction that they both craved. 

“Fuck, Y/n—” She breathed out, the girl under her tugged onto the scrubs so she would remove them. The moment of passion only grew a fire that got bigger with each passing second of the shared intimacy. That moment when their hearts beat in sync and yearn for the other so much that it’s hard to hold back. “You want my cock, don’t you…My good girl, my good slut wants my cock.” She breathed out, lips dragging over the intern's skin as she kissed down her jaw.

It did not matter, Jimin always did a 180 in the bed and wasn’t just that sweet heart doctor, but someone who made Y/n’s thighs tremble and beg for more with some sweetness to her. 

“So bad, I want to be filled by you.” 

“I will fill you, fill you with my cock and ‘dump all my cum inside you. You like that don’t you?” 

Her kisses trailed lower to Y/n’s neck, the kisses wet and tender, her teeth dragged along and she wrapped her lips around the thin skin. She could feel Y/n’s heavy pulse on her tongue as she gently sucked with her hard dick fully pressed against Y/n’s cunt. The girl under her pushed more into her, being able to feel the prominent bulge of Jimin’s cock right against her throbbing heat.

“I love it, I love every inch of you inside me and on me.” Y/n breathed out beside her ear, hands pulling Jimin’s navy blue shirt up along her back. She pulled away, sitting on her knees to take them off together with the one she had under, throwing them on the side of the bed. The younger sat up, the doctor not waiting as she grabbed the hem of Y/n’s light blue shirt and let it mix in with hers on the side. 

Her hand reached into Y/n’s hair from behind and she gripped it, pulling the girl back to meet her eyes. The grip stung, Jimin pulling on Y/n’s silky strands of hair like she always liked to do and Y/n enjoyed. Her eyes landed on those glossy with passion and love eyes, she trailed down to her wet lips and she leaned back in, wanting Y/n’s tongue against hers.

The vixen kissed back, Jimin’s figure towered over her and her hand cupped her girlfriend through the blue scrubs where her cock was straining. It made the latter huff through her nose and close her eyes tighter while pushing her tongue against Y/n’s. The scalding cock was fully erect, making Y/n tug down on the pants to the second layer that were the boxer briefs.

“Touch it, touch every inch you want inside your slutty little pussy, Y/n, it’s all for you.” Her words were clouded, deep with the moment as Y/n’s fingers ghosted over the outline until she reached the tip that was leaking right through the grey boxers, leaving them stained with pre-cum. Y/n’s lips were left parted, panting against Jimin’s as they moved before she swallowed her whole again. She palmed the hard cock, feeling each inch that would be inside her.

Jimin let go of her hair and reached behind her, doing a quick job at swiftly undoing the bra. Y/n let it fall down her shoulders, and the latter sat back on her heels, eyes falling on the breasts that perfectly fit in her hands as she cupped one of them. The vixen let out a light moan, enough to make Jimin’s dick twitch at the sound. It made her grab Y/n’s petite waist to pull her into her and lean down, her mouth latching onto the plump breast as she held onto the girl who was back in her lap as she sat back.

Y/n pressed down her heat against Jimin’s, hips slowly moving with hands gripping onto the dark hair with the warm tongue coating her chest in saliva. It made Jimin whimper just like Y/n did, her cunt pressing down hard against the throbbing cock under her aching cunt when the doctor grazed her teeth over the hard nipple, gently tugging. 

“You’re my pretty whore, Y/n. Just mine.” If there was one thing she liked to do it was to remind Y/n of who exactly she belonged to. Her lips wrapped around the soft and warm flesh, sucking on it to leave her marks. It made Y/n moan, nails digging into Jimin’s shoulders and back to her shoulder blades as the girl wanted her closer, chest pressing into the teasing mouth that played with her nipples and marked her breast. 

Jimin hummed, it came from the back of her throat and her grip tightened on Y/n’s waist with fingers digging into her skin as she tried to get her even closer. She loved wrapping her arms around the small waist or having her hands on it, pulling on Y/n like a doll. She helped her grind down against her hard cock, Y/n whimpering right by her ear as her clit pressed right against her tip with each stroke. 

The younger could feel how damp her underwear was, her clit throbbed for Jimin’s touch, wanting nothing more than to be stretched out and have her girlfriend fuck her right into the bed. The wet sounds of Jimin’s mouth latching at her breast occupied the room together with their heavy breaths, the faint buzzing of the ventilation dead. One hand let go of her waist, the other still guiding her to continue grinding against the cock. 

It made Y/n close her eyes when the doctor cupped her breast, her mouth still sucking on her skin. Thumb grazed over her nipple before Jimin moved and groped at her chest, feeling up Y/n’s body because she loved nothing more than exploring every inch before fucking her. It didn’t matter if her cock felt like it would explode. She tugged on the nipples, gently nipping and twisting, it was enough to make Y/n squirm and whine, unsure if she wanted more or if it was too much. 

“Jimin–” She breathed out, the latter trailed her hand down from her waist and harshly groped at her ass. All she got in return was a grainy hum, too busy with the small chest that she enjoyed playing with so much. “I need your cock.” Y/n pleaded as it wasn’t a want anymore, but a need. Her walls were clenching, waiting for that familiar stretch that would fill her to the brim and her grinding only got sloppier and harsher from how desperate she grew for her. 

It was only then that she pulled away from Y/n’s chest, her lips swollen and wet. Her eyes fell on Y/n’s, seeing all the need in them, she could feel it from the way the girl was pressing against her, thighs squeezing, but nothing was happening. Y/n heaved at the intensity, Jimin’s hand coming right up to her throat as she grabbed hold of her and pulled her closer. 

She could feel the thudding pulse under her fingertips, her parted lips brushed against Y/n’s parted ones. It made her lean back when the vixen tried to kiss her, it tugged at the corner of her lips at how much she needed her. To see Y/n need her this much turned her on further and her cock was aching to push right inside the confines of Y/n’s snug and warm pussy. 

“Are you all wet and ready for me? Will you be able to take everything at once? I can only fuck my whore once she knows she will take everything without complaining.” The husk made Y/n’s skin crawl with warmth, thighs clenching as she was wet enough to take every inch. She didn’t have time to think it through because her lips spoke before her brain thought in these moments of intimacy where all she could think with was her heart that in the end made the best decisions when it came to her love life. 

She was with Jimin in the end.

With a hand still wrapped around her throat, Y/n’s hand reached for the other one that was gently kneading her breast. Jimin smiled as Y/n grabbed her wrist and she let the younger guide her hand. “I get so wet every time you touch me.” Y/n breathed out, guiding the hand past the hem of her scrubs before Jimin slipped it further down with Y/n’s nails dragging along her forearm. 

It made the intern's breath subtly shudder at the fingers that ran over the damp underwear. “My pretty doll, so wet for me.” Her fingers teased, gently rubbing over the material, making Y/n buck her hips and hold back on the desperate whines when she pressed down on her clit. It was aching, throbbing with pain from how badly she needed it. Jimin leaned in, gently kissing the girl’s jaw while she slowly pulled the material of the girl’s underwear aside. 

Her fingers found their way to Y/n’s wet folds, the slick smeared as she ran her fingers through them, only pulling away from her jaw to look at the expressions that Y/n made. The fingers ran through the sensitive and swollen lips, gathering the slick, coming down to circle her leaking hole and greedily taking more to create a bigger mess because Jimin enjoyed making her a mess. All the while Y/n let out faint shaky breaths through her lips, hands gripping harder onto Jimin’s shoulders, hips trying to push into her fingers as she circled her swollen clit, slowly playing with the bud that was so sensitive.

“You sound so pretty for me,” she mumbled, eyes set on Y/n’s face whose eyebrows furrowed and a gasp fell from her plump lips at the speed that increased on her clit. Jimin hummed, the smile not leaving her lips as she ran her fingers down once again, this time two slowly pushed inside the greedily clenching hole. She slipped into the wet tightness of Y/n’s pussy, the girl feeling the slow stretch that was getting closer to satisfying, but she still needed more. 

Her hips moved against the fingers that were knuckles deep inside her, looking for friction on her clit from the pad of Jimin’s palm. A whimper fell from her lips, this time louder than last time when the doctor gave in to the need and pressed her palm against the clit while curling her fingers. That spot that made Y/n squirm was right under her control because she had learned her girlfriend's body to every inch. 

“Are you going to fuck yourself on my fingers? Such a desperate whore that she fucks herself on my hand. Thought you wanted cock to fill your cunt.” She chuckled as Y/n leaned forward, her lips by Jimin’s ear, her hips still moving against the fingers that slowly scissored inside her to stretch her out. 

“I do–I want your cock to fill me.” She breathed out, her words humid against the woman’s ear who left a kiss on her jaw. Jimin could wait, but only so long, and hearing how needy Y/n’s whiny voice was she wasn’t going to wait longer to bury her cock inside the girl. They were playing with time in the end as they could get paged any second. 

There was a loss of contact when the fingers that were deep inside her throbbing pussy pulled out. Y/n pulled back, a docile look in her eyes to plead even more while watching Jimin take the slick-covered fingers between her lips and suck them right in. The taste lingered on her tongue as she licked her fingers clean off of Y/n’s wetness that she loved. Her hand rubbed Y/n’s waist as she did so. 

“Be a good whore and get naked for me, doll.” Her tone was calm yet demanding and Y/n wasn’t one to disobey the older one. She got off of Jimin’s lap and the older watched the girl strip out of her bottoms, her hand running along her length through her boxer briefs. Her cock was throbbing under her palm and her breathing got deeper as she squeezed her length at the sight of Y/n fully naked now. 

With a rushed and harsh grip, she manhandled the girl’s lithe and light figure that she liked the best when she was dressed in her birthday suit. It made Y/n quietly whine at the rough yet arousing treatment as she was pushed onto her knees, forearms resting against the mattress as Jimin got behind her. 

“Such a pretty face and pussy.” The doctor grumbled as she pushed down her boxers and freed her throbbing cock, the pinkish tip leaked with precum, waiting to release everything into the confines of Y/n’s pink pussy. 

The vixen waited in anticipation, her back arched with hands running over her ass, hips and over her spine before going over her waist. The touch was soothing, making her melt at how good it felt to even have Jimin’s skilful hands run over her body. She could make the harshest treatment feel gentle and steady with her hands.

She gripped onto Y/n’s hip, her other hand grabbing at her base and she guided her tip through the wet folds. The feeling made them both shudder as she coated her member in the juices that were leaking, spilling down Y/n’s thighs. As it glistened from the slickness she brought her tip to the girl’s entrance.

“Can I enter you, doll?” Y/n could die right in her spot because Jimin always made sure to ask. 

“Yes…” The girl breathed out, feeling the big tip right by her hole and it made her head drop to the pillow when it at last protruded and slowly sank into her, splitting her folds and slowly buried itself deep inside her.  

Jimin gripped harder onto Y/n’s waist at the tightness around her cock that sucked her in. Her other hand gently pushed down against the arched back as she tilted her head back and dwelled in the feeling with her lower lip between her teeth. 

“You feel so good, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” She mumbled, her chest heaving as she stalled her hips once she was filling her girlfriend to the hilt. 

Y/n twisted the sheets in her fists at the stretch and feeling stuffed, she could feel Jimin’s cock everywhere, feeling it all because she was raw inside her. The way the vein throbbed and how hard she was. It was overwhelming the slight pain from how good it felt. 

Jimin exhaled sharply through her nose, needing time to get ready herself once she entered Y/n’s cunt to not explode right away from the snugness. She ran her palm along Y/n’s spine until she reached her shoulder and gripped it, holding onto it and her waist before she slowly dragged her hips back.

“I’m going to fuck you good, my needy whore deserves it.” She mumbled under her breath more to herself but Y/n still heard it clearly, eyes still closed and her head leaned back as she almost pulled out fully. 

Y/n gasped, writhing under Jimin’s hold when her hips slammed right back inside her, the grip tight on her skin as it was hard enough to leave its marks behind. “Oh, my—fuck.” Y/n choked out as Jimin felt like she had given enough time for both of them to get all ready and her hips started to move, starting slow before she gradually increased the speed of her moving hips. 

The cock dragged along Y/n’s squelching walls, hitting the perfect spots as Jimin angled herself perfectly. The slapping of her pelvis against Y/n’s ass grew in the room, each thrust followed by Y/n’s whines, pleas, cries, and whimpering moans, creating the mess she loved to make the intern. Her cock slid effortlessly in and out, going deep and hard, picking up her pace only to slow down with her eyes trained on the way Y/n’s body arched and pushed into her with her vision going blank now and then from the way her eyes would close at the feeling. 

The wet slapping bounced off the walls, Jimin completely getting lost and not being able to think about if anything could be heard outside the door and neither did she stop Y/n’s squeals when she drilled deep into her. The slapping grew harder and louder, tainting their skin slightly in the process. 

It was burning Y/n’s body, her body moved with each thrust as Jimin went deep and slow before going fast, it was making her mind go blank. The bed squeaked–the on-call rooms used as hook-up rooms for everyone–Y/n was letting out squeaks herself at the pleasure that shot through her with slight pain. It was too much but she didn’t want any less or any more because too much was perfect. 

Jimin clenched her jaw, her body getting covered in heat, a sheen of sweat draping over her skin as she huffed through her nose, guttural groans falling from her now and then. Her eyes fell between their conjoined heat, watching the way her cock appeared and disappeared inside the glistening pussy, coming out covered in slick and getting slammed back inside, making Y/n move forward from the force. 

“Ah, fuck–” Y/n cried out at a particularly hard thrust making Jimin slow down to not hurt the girl as she knew that she got lost in the pleasure easily when it came to Y/n. 

“You’re taking me so well, my little doll to fuck and have squirm under me.” Her hand soothed along Y/n’s waist as her hips rolled deep and slow now. She ran her hand right under and found her way to Y/n’s slim stomach. Jimin pressed down on the girl’s lower belly as she pulled out and slammed right back inside. She could explode just from the way the gesture made Y/n arch her back and let out another high-pitched moan.

The cock kept hitting at her g-spot, feeling Jimin much deeper, knowing exactly where she was because of the hand that pressed against her stomach. The pleasure became tenfold and she was slowly reaching her peak as her ears were muffling everything and she was losing all her coherent thoughts. All she could think about was the cock that was drilling right into her cunt, the way it made her thighs quiver and her vocal cords release any sound they wanted with no control, the way her body was succumbing and losing all touch just for Jimin. 

Jimin had other plans as she let go of Y/n’s shoulder and gripped the silky and long hair for leverage instead. Y/n whined at the pleasurable pain that forced her to arch even more and look up from the pillow where her cheek was pressed. There were tears in her eyes when Jimin finally got to look at the girl she got to look in the mirror that was hung up right above the desk in front of the bed's foot. 

“Look at me when I fuck you–” It was a demand, not a question that harshly left through the doctor’s lips whose hips were snapping against Y/n. “Fuck I want my whore to look me in the eye, I want to look at your pretty eyes when you cum around my cock, doll face.” She groaned, Y/n obeying her as she watched how Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, her face contorting into deep pleasure the second she got to look at Y/n’s face which portrayed how good she felt getting nailed into the bed. It boosted Jimin’s ego, letting her know how good she managed to make her girlfriend feel. 

She wrapped her fist around the hair, getting more leverage, her stomach flexing and hand running from Y/n’s stomach to the girl’s swollen and throbbing clit. Her eyes trained on Y/n’s face whose eyes rolled and fluttered, the sounds spilling out of her lips. The walls tightly squeezed Jimin’s cock, making her groan at the feeling and in return thrust harder to get anywhere because of how tight the girl was getting the closer she was. Her walls clamped down on her cock with each thrust, hips meeting and getting louder. 

“Jimin–Jimin, I’m–” She couldn’t finish the words that were left in a desperate cry. 

The heat in her stomach was tingling with the need to be released, snapping out sooner than later as Y/n’s body tensed up. Her vision went black, ears muffled, barely being able to hear how the train of light and whiny moans escaped her lips. The sight of Y/n coming around her, her pussy spasming around her cock, throbbing around it, her eyes rolling, back arching, it all made Jimin fall right off the peak when she reached it. Her breathing grew harsh as it all came over her too. 

Y/n felt the tears run down her cheeks, whimpering at the feeling of Jimin’s cock growing harder before the creamy warm cum spilled and painted her walls. She felt each rope shoot right into her cunt, her hearing slowly coming back and being able to hear how Jimin let out light moans with her hips stuttering into Y/n to fill her the best she could, wanting every drop inside the snug pussy. Occasionally tugging on her hair as her body convulsed at the orgasm. 

“Fuck, you took it all so well, baby.” She breathed out, her grip loosening on Y/n’s hair, their chests heaving to catch their breaths as a moment of silence fell upon them. Jimin swallowed down the thickness in her throat, blinking her eyes open, slowly pulling out, making Y/n let out a light sigh. 

The older helped the girl lay down, treating her like a fragile porcelain doll. With her dick still wet she tucked it back inside her boxers, pulling up the scrubs that were resting around her thighs. She got pulled down right after and managed to fit herself by Y/n’s petite frame on the twin-sized bed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked to make sure, her arm wrapping itself around Y/n’s shoulders who hugged at the woman’s waist. Jimin grabbed hold of Y/n’s thigh, pulling it to drape over her torso to have her closer. The doctor twisted and reached behind her with her free hand, pulling out the fuzzy teddy bear with the rose that was under her. 

“Yeah.” Y/n mumbled, trying to gather herself as her breathing was still heavy, Jimin’s fingers gently running through her hair this time. Her eyes watched as Jimin held the bear, making it sit on her stomach and face them with her fingers fiddling with the fur. 

“Did you know that sex is healthy for the heart? It can bring down the chances of a heart attack by 50%.” Y/n chuckled at the words, burying her face into the crook of the woman’s warm neck who breathed out a chuckle at her own words. 

“I love you,” Jimin spoke, craning her neck and leaning down to peck the top of Y/n’s head. It made the girl pull away and looked up at the older woman. She hummed and pushed herself up, still feeling Jimin everywhere and on her lips once again when she leaned down for a slow kiss. 

“I love you,” she pulled away for a second as they looked each other in the eye and she pecked the woman’s lips once again before pulling away fully. “This was probably the most romantic Valentine’s Day so far.” Y/n admitted. It was so different yet in a way that was special because so much had happened. 

Jimin raised her eyebrows as she pushed herself up to rest against her elbows as she looked at Y/n who reached for her clothes because they still could get paged. “Really?” She questioned, gently bouncing the teddy bear against the mattress from how the words made her feel less worried that it wasn’t enough. It made her feel giddy to know that she succeeded in the end. She watched Y/n put on the scrubs before she sat back on the bed, facing Jimin with her fingers dancing over the doctor's bare stomach, trailing gentle patterns. 

“Yeah, I got to operate on a heart with my girlfriend, and we no longer have to pretend to be just coworkers.” Y/n said as her fingers ran up to where Jimin’s heart was, circling the area as she could feel the way it was pounding against her ribcage. It made Jimin grin even more and Y/n leaned back in to kiss her heart doctor. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day hadn’t gone bad at all even if they couldn’t go on a date or do something together outside the hospital. Somehow everything they had done today was romantic in its way and there was no need for grand gestures.

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[wyvernest]

would you be able to write something about chubby!reader having body issues and thinks she doesn’t deserve miguel because he’s so sculpted and beautiful, but miguel reminds her how perfect she is? (in whatever way you think is best)

i just love reading these types of fics and they really help boost my confidence 🥹

tysm! <3

hope you like it<3

aphrodite

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: fluff, established relationship, body dysmorphia

summary: you start feeling self conscious right before your date, and miguel isn't having any of it

translations are at the end

Miguel had finally made time to take you out. You are well aware of the fact that he is a busy man, and had decided against pressuring him to abandon his work overtime.

But tonight was for you. He had planned out the perfect date, from the restaurant, reservations, to the tiniest details; what day would be best in terms of weather, your job, and his duties. 

To say you were overwhelmed with excitement was an understatement. He had always been so caring and considerate, looking for ways to make you feel valued and appreciated even when time itself stood against his efforts. Finding unadulterated joy in asking you out like it was your first time getting closer to each other over and over again, the 'honeymoon phase' spark never once leaving your relationship, contrary to popular belief.

And so here you are, in your shared home, getting ready for yet another date with the most handsome man you've ever seen. 

He's already fully dressed, fixing himself in the mirror. His black suit sits oh-so perfectly on him, hugging the shape of his large back and shoulders, tight enough around his biceps, so that they still bulge through the material when he brings a hand up in his hair to tame some dark strands that had fallen out of place. It accentuates the line of his abdomen, having his large thighs finish off the whole look. 

He stands in front of the bedroom mirror, in his striking royal height, the man that ancient Greeks probably had as a muse when they sculpted the ideals of the male body. His dark, cocoa brown hair is brushed back, silky and soft. His perfectly contoured face is dimly lit by the low, warm bedroom lights, his features prominent: the bridge and line of his nose, squinted piercing eyes along with a downright intimidating set of brows His sharp jaw is held up high while he works with his tie, expert hands skillfully experimenting around an array of various knots, pondering upon which fits best.

He truly is quite the sight, you melt at the tableau before you, holding back a sigh seasoned with nothing but the very heights of being irrevocably enamoured.

His whole presence screams strength and mature dominance, with a hint of incontestable luxury.

Resuming your own outfit, your own body still only adorned in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra, you head to the closet for the one dress you have been imagining yourself in for the whole week since he offered you the invitation. You couldn’t be more excited to finally try it on and admire yourself with it, have people look your way while wearing it, with an arm hooked around the one and only Miguel O’Hara. 

Putting it on and adjusting its stretchy fabric over your curves, your smile starts to fade. This isn’t what it looked like the first time I tried it on, you mentally conclude, and the more you look at it, the more things you wish you hadn’t noticed. You pull at the material, the hem, the sides, the neckline, anything you can think of that maybe, just maybe, could fix it. Panic starts to drip into your nerves, what will you do now if it just won’t look good? Screw it and go out with it anyway, and then feel all eyes on you for the rest of the evening? What will people think when they see you, merely decent, next to him? And otherwise, what other option is there? To pick some other dress that can’t possibly be more appropriate for the occasion, since you had bought this one specifically for the place you’re going, and still not look the part?

Your breathing starts to quicken as you keep fumbling with the textile around your shape, attention half directed to the open wardrobe, scanning every shelf and hanger for a second option. 

Suddenly, the floor creaks, bringing the echo of incoming footsteps. And there he is, standing behind you, hands on your tense shoulders. You almost despise the image before you; his impeccable, calm and stoic image, next to you, discouraged and deeply insecure in evident comparison.

“What were you thinking about just now?” his words river down over the shell of your ear on a hot breath that has shivers shot down your spine.

“Nothing, I’m getting ready”, you cover it up in a sing-song voice, not wanting to dig deeper into letting him know that you don’t deem yourself pretty enough for him, let alone expect him to find you more attractive than you do yourself. Unfortunately, he’s too smart for your little diversion.

“Don’t lie to me.”, his tone serious, voice deep. His eyes rank up and down your body in the mirror, and you feel an acute need to just disappear. “Que guapa.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you feel rosy heat rise to your face.

Your mouth speaks before you think.

“Does it look good?”, he senses the hesitancy in your voice.

“Baby, you’d look like a goddess wearing a potato sack.” he speaks matter-of-factly, as if his statement equals water is wet, the honesty in his declaration evident with the speed with which the words left his mouth. You can’t help but let a giggle break through your disconcerted face, surprised with the association.

“What, like Marilyn Monroe?”

“No, mi alma, like you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you back into his embrace as you look at eachother in the reflection before you. His expression softens, visibly relaxed and happy to have you close to him. 

“These curves, every part of you, I know them as I know myself.” His palms slide over your hips, and all the way back up to your shoulders, effectively chasing away any hint of doubt and worry, cleansing you of anything that isn’t love.

“Eres la mujer de mis sueños.” He bends down, his lips reaching the crook of your neck. “No hay nadie como tú."

You let yourself fall back into his tempting embrace, knowing that he’s exploiting your weakness for him speaking Spanish so low and deep into the vulnerable skin of your pulse point, completely forgetting about the date and the dress. 

“And if you don’t like the dress, I’ll gladly rip it off.” He exhibits his talons as a warning, the curved edges of the claws grazing your bare shoulders intently. “If anything, the dress isn’t good enough to be worn by you.”

translations:

que guapa - how beautiful

mi alma - my soul

eres la mujer de mis sueños - you're the woman of my dreams

no hay nadie como tú - there is no one like you

a/n: again, if any native speakers see anything wrong with my Spanish please let me know🤍

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader

[kurogane2512]

I can treat you better

A little concept I wanted to try for a while, I see this done with male characters a lot and I wanted to experiment on my waifus.

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: CEO!Ningguang, Teacher!Lisa, Milf!La Signora (referred as Rosalyne) x fem!reader

Type: Fluff hcs and drabble, Modern AU

Contains: Broken marriages, infidelity (not with reader), comforting, teacher-student relationship (Lisa), age-gap (Lisa and Signora)

Marriage is supposed to be the ultimate union between lovers, a symbol of togetherness and eternal love. However, not every marriage ends as well as it began. Love shouldn't fade away but sometimes it does, or perhaps it never existed in the first place and was just a matter of convenience.....

CEO!Ningguang who owns the most successful business in the country that she started by her own efforts. A meticulous and hard-working woman who has lines of suitors but everyone knows she's already given her heart to her husband, a simple man she met in college and fell in love with. He promised to support her in her business venture and always stuck right by her side the more she built her empire.

Ningguang is highly successful in life, she has money and a loving partner- what more could one ask for? You are her secretary, her right-hand woman, who has assissted her since the beginning. The first and only secretary she has had because you are perfect for the job. You have had a crush on her for the longest time, but you knew how happy she is with her husband so you simply continue supporting her from the sidelines.

However, her marriage started becoming rocky recently. Ningguang spent too much time at work, doing overtime almost every day for the last 6 months and rarely spending time with her partner. Ningguang never stopped climbing the success ladder, she wanted more and she was determined to work for it. Her husband, on the other hand, became a stay-at-home husband because.... why does he need to work when his wife is the richest woman in the world?

Ningguang became more stressed as days passed, she was making deals with all these demanding companies all the while trying to keep her marriage at bay. Many times, you heard her arguing with him on the phone, his voice would be so loud that you could clearly make out the curses and accusations he threw at her. It frustrated you. How dare he say all that to her? How dare he think of her this way?

Ningguang was working hard for her future with him, she was not greedy for money. She wanted to give him and her eventual children the best life she could, all of this hard work was for him. Yet, he seemed to have never realized that. The more days Ningguang spent cooped in her office, the more apart she became with him. Until the day you heard her crying for the first time in your life....

"Ms Ningguang, the documents you want—" you stepped inside Ningguang's office but stopped mid-sentence as you heard her sniffle. She was seated on her table, holding her head in frustration and looking at something on her phone.

"Ms Ningguang, are you okay? What happened?" You were genuinely worried, the woman you loved was crying and you wanted to do something. Ningguang quickly wiped away her tears and switched off her phone screen before standing up and looking at you firmly, "Ah, Y/n, thank you. I had been looking for these for a while."

She avoided your question. You knew something was seriously wrong now. You wanted to ask more but decided to not pester her and continued with the work you had brought in, she came into her 'work mode' almost immediately. She always impressed you so much. The two of you finished the work for the day then you invited her to a diner for a simple meal, hoping to lighten her mood. You had a hearty meal together and drank a few glasses of alcohol to unwind, she became a bit tipsy and leaned on the bar table while you prepared to leave the place and escort her home.

"Earlier.... my apologies for avoiding your question." Ningguang suddenly spoke causing you to stop your actions and listen to her.

"N-No, ma'am, it's okay. You are not obliged to tell me everything...."

She sighed then took out her phone and scrolled to a particular photo then showed you the screen, your eyes immediately widening in shock.

"Is this.... your husband? And that woman...." Yes, it was a photo of her husband with another woman, and they looked very intimate like a couple. It could be brushed off as friends but the position was.... too intimate for friends, the woman was all over him and he was very much into her as well. Now, you realized why Ningguang was potentially crying at that time. You stayed silent and looked at Ningguang with sympathy while she simply let out a bitter chuckle.

"What do you think? They are just friends? That's what I want to believe as well but I have never seen her around him before, we know each other's friend groups well enough. Either she's a new addition during the time I have been away or...."

She trailed off and you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You felt infuriated. She did not deserve this at all.

"....I suggest you should talk to him and clear up things, having doubts and misinterpretating can lead to unnecessary conflicts between you two. You should take some time off from work, I'll handle everything for you, ma'am."

Ningguang pinched her temple and pondered for a moment before nodding, "I know, you are right. But hypothetically speaking, if this is what I think this is then.... what should I do? I....I don't know how to face him."

"You shouldn't think of that possibility, ma'am. He loves you, doesn't he? You should trust that and talk to him openly. I....don't think he would do this to you; you are amazing and so beautiful, it could just be a misunderstanding."

You wanted to comfort her and give her some hope but deep down, you weren't so sure yourself. The picture was too obvious to be misunderstood, but you didn't want to see Ningguang upset. She finally smiled a little and nodded then you helped her stand up and escorted her to her car. She was more drunk now and leaned on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your body and snuggling into your neck.

"....It's my fault, isn't it? It's all because of how neglectful I have been, I have barely spent any time with him. Everyone says I'm married to my work now, he waits for me every day and I come home late then leave early morning without talking to him at all. This was bound to happen, it's all my fault..."

She was rambling, blaming herself for everything. You hated seeing her this way, you knew how much she loved him. "But...But I have been holding back so much as well. I also have needs! We haven't touched each other in so long....and he goes and finds someone else."

CEO!Ningguang who later talks to her husband and finds out it was a misunderstanding, the woman really was a new friend he made. The smile on her face returned and she became more relaxed, there was no greater joy for you than to see her being happy again. She thanked you for your advice and started having a better work-life balance.

You supported Ningguang even more and sent her home early so she could spend time with him; although, you never stopped doubting him because that photo was way too suspicious and you felt he was lying just to take advantage of her and her money. You became a comfort person for Ningguang, a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it. She shared with you her personal things and regularly asked for suggestions for her love life.

You thought all things were going well until one day when you came across another photo of him with that same woman from before. Once again, Ningguang was sobbing in her office that night while holding you close and rambling. She revealed that she had planned to talk about having children with him soon and also booked a vacation to spend time together but now she could no longer go about it.

You couldn't see her this way. You comforted her and slowly told her that she should reconsider her marriage. He was cheating on her and using her money. You didn't know if his love was ever real, but you were bound to believe it wasn't. It infuriated you to see such an amazing woman like Ningguang go through this, you wanted to be there for her and help her as much as possible.

She eventually divorced and cut all connections with him and his family, even buying a separate house for herself and sending him far away. You could see her true self returning, she felt liberal and free after all this time. And she wasn't blind to ignore all the help you gave her; spending late nights in her stead to complete her work so she could enjoy.... why were you so supportive of her? She started seeing you differently and wondered if there was more to you.

"You are an idiot, Y/n." Ningguang overheard you talking with a colleague one day during your coffee break and she hid around the corner and listened in.

"Who in their right mind helps patch up the marriage of the woman she loves?! If it was me, I would have used that to come between them and taken her!" your colleague spoke with a chuckle, Ningguang's eyes widening at the statement. You loved her? You did all that.... all the while being in love with her? The time you spent advising her and helping her be with her husband.... you loved her all that time?

"Don't be ridiculous! She.... she loved him and I just wanted to see her happy, even if not with me. Besides, I'm not in her league at all. I'm fine with how things are and now that she's no longer bound to him, she can be herself and do what makes her happy."

Ningguang's heart skipped a beat, you did so much for her just to see her happy.... even her ex-husband never did that. It was always her being the giver in the relationship and she barely received anything in return from him, now she realized the true meaning of love. She realized how blind she had been, there was someone doing everything for her just the way she had been doing for him.

CEO!Ningguang who starts falling for you, seeing you as more than just a secretary or friend. She tries to be around you more, makes you accompany her to more places than before. She invites you to her house under the guise of working, just to spend more time with you because your presence is so comforting to her. She is still recovering from her broken marriage, but with you she feels loved.

She plans to confess in the near future if you don't, and till then tries to understand you better as a person. She realizes how much she has always liked you but was too blinded to see it. But what she didn't see coming was when you handed in your resignation notice one faithful day....

"Resignation? Why all of a sudden? Is the salary not up to your requirements? Is there too much work pressure? I don't see how there isn't any room for negotiation if you find something unsatisfactory here, Y/n." Ningguang was perplexed, almost on the verge of breaking down. Why were you doing this? Were you really going to bury your feelings and leave?

"No ma'am, none of that. Everything is good here; the salary and work environment, I like everything and I don't mind the work pressure either because it's very rewarding."

"Then why? I believe I deserve to hear a proper reason for this. You are one of my oldest and best employees, have you been offered a better deal somewhere else?"

Ningguang attempted to negotiate with you to make you stay; aside from how used to she was to you and your working style, she truly didn't want you to leave.

"....Are you really going to leave just like this? Without even telling me your true feelings?!" Ningguang's voice raised as she paced around the table and stood in front of you, looking at you firmly. You were confused as to what she meant, but she soon answered your doubts.

"This is how your love is, Y/n?! You'll run away without speaking a word?! You also want to leave me?!"

Your eyes widened, how did she know? And why was she being this way? You were about to say something but Ningguang grabbed your collar and pulled you into a passionate kiss, her lips kissed yours feverishly as if she wanted to own you and keep you here forever.

"Don't you dare leave me.... Is that clear?" Ningguang whispered against your lips as she pulled away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and astonished. You had no idea when she found out about your feelings but now that the cat was out of the bag, you didn't want to hold back either.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I....I love you very much, Ms Ningguang. I want to be with you and I promise to treat you well, I want to keep you happy forever."

Teacher!Lisa who is the sweetest and most beloved teacher at your university. Currently in your first year, she teaches you chemistry and let's just say the entire university has a crush on her to some extent, teachers and students alike. A kind, hardworking and sincere woman who has been teaching for 6-7 years now and has never had a complaint against her. But to everyone's vain, she's happily married for 5 years to a man arranged by her parents.

Lisa loves teaching and interacting with her students, she's always ready to put in the extra effort for struggling students and very patiently deals with problematic cases. She's usually soft spoken and pleasant to be around, but anger her and she can be quite strict and terrifying as well even if it's extremely rare to see her that way. As her student, you don't miss any of her classes due to how much you love to attend them.

Lisa eventually became your class tutor and you showed utmost enthusiasm to be the class representative in order to help her, but truthfully you just wanted to be with her more. Your classmates called you a teacher's pet but you didn't care, you genuinely wanted to help Ms Lisa and care for her just like she cares for you. You eventually grow close with her as you spend time outside of classes, doing some work or the other and chatting along.

Lisa rarely talked about her family which wasn't surprising as you were just a student, but you discovered that even with her colleagues she rarely ever shared anything and seemed to dislike the topic altogether. Everyone assumed her marriage was good considering how sweet and lovable she was, she'd make a perfect wife. But little does everyone know her dark reality....

"Ah, Y/n. Do you mind opening the window? It's gotten really warm these days...." Ms Lisa sighed and fanned her face as sweat trickled down her forehead, the two of you were sitting in the staff room during afternoon. She had called you to do some work and you agreed as it was your free lecture; coincidentally, the staff room was also empty right now as other teachers had gone for classes.

You nodded to her and stood up to slide open the nearby window and let the cool breeze flow in. You then turned around to walk back to your place when you saw Ms Lisa remove her coat and pull up her sleeves which caused you to glace at a peculiar cut on her wrist.

"Ma'am, did you get hurt?" you came closer and asked in a concerned tone. She realized where you were pointing and quickly slid her sleeve back down to hide the scar before letting out a forced smile.

"Oh, it's nothing. I accidentally brushed my hair straightener there."

"....I see, please take care of yourself."

You weren't easily convinced that's all it was but you were unable to know more. You worried about her, you hoped everything was fine.

Teacher!Lisa who actually has a toxic good-for-nothing husband living off her hard-earned money. A regular drunkard who lost his job after their marriage, she was forced to marry him because he used to be well off but in reality, he was doing illegal work that eventually got him caught and put on house arrest. She is the sole breadwinner of their household and struggles every day to make ends meet.

Lisa never let anyone know the truth about her marriage, not even her parents. She knew they wanted the best for her when they made her marry him and he did appear to be nice back then. She regularly argues with him and looks after him when she comes home, all the while managing work from the university and her basic duties.

Lisa's husband recently became violent and started hitting her during their arguments. She was coming to her breaking point but she couldn't leave him; after all, she fell in love with him after their marriage. He was handsome and gentlemanly in the beginning; despite being an arranged marriage, they got along and liked each other. She hated seeing him in this state and promised to keep supporting him even when nobody else does.

But everyone has a breaking point, and Lisa was nearing hers too. She hated having to tolerate such treatment every day, she wanted to be a good teacher and be with her students who bring her joy without having to worry about going back to a dreadful home. Then one day, her husband crossed even more borders. Now she had to live with him cheating on her as well? How could she walk into her house just to find another woman in bed with her good-for-nothing husband?

Lisa had no words and packed up her essentials then left, she did not need any explanations or excuses. How could he do that? What did she not do for him? And how is she lacking in appearance or sex drive that he'd go for some random woman? She gave him everything and he never recognized it, she had enough. She found herself at a bus stop, eyes filled with tears and no idea of what to do. That's when a miracle happened.

"Ms Lisa?! What are you doing here at this hour?!" your voice called out to her from behind, and she turned around to see you walk up to her with an excited look.

"I'm just...." she trailed off and your eyes fell on the bag she was carrying, tear stains on her face.

"What happened? Are you okay?" you asked softly and stepped closer, gently caressing her arm.

"...What about you, Y/n? Why are you out so late?" she averted your question.

"O-Oh, I'm just returning from my part-time work. My flat is nearby, would you like to come?"

"Do you live with anyone else?"

"No, it's an independent flat. I.... didn't really want a roommate."

Lisa ponders for a while and eventually agrees to come with you. A humble abode perfect for a single person, she found a strange sense of calmness and comfort in your apartment. You offered her some beverage and you found out she hadn't eaten anything since afternoon, feeling appalled and immediately went to cook for her. She trusted you, she wanted to be away from her life for now.

"Uh, sorry, I don't have too many ingredients right now. I was going to go shopping this weekend, I hope you don't mind pasta...."

Lisa looked at the plate you put in front of her, a small smile appearing on her face. "Pasta is my favorite dish, actually. But it's been a long time since I had it, thank you."

You smiled back, you knew something was up. The cheerful Ms Lisa was strangely quiet, seemingly holding back a lot of her emotions. Eventually, she finally opened up to you and told you everything about her husband- from the abuse to cheating. You were terrified hearing the horrors she faced, yet presented herself to be happy at the university, nobody could guess she faced all of that every day.

You offered her to stay at your place for as long as she wants, and that she should report him to police and talk to her parents. A divorce was the obvious couse of action, but you were in no place to advice that to her. You only hoped to comfort her and provide her a home until this passed. That night, you laid in bed together and Ms Lisa held you as she cried out, eventually falling asleep in your arms. If only she knew how much you loved her, right from the first day you saw her....

Teacher!Lisa who talks to her parents the next day and tells them everything. They feel devastated hearing what their daughter went through, and they assist her in a successful divorce where she gets maintenance claims and a secret property he had. It was a messy court case given the illegal work of the husband, but she triumphed and obtained her justice.

The case went on for a few months and Ms Lisa lived with you all this time. She helped you in your studies and enabled you to become the topper in her class, though she never used any unfair means to help you. It was sometimes hard to hide the fact that you were living together, but you both made it work. Ms Lisa wasn't open for a new relationship yet, It was true she really loved him and it was hard to move on despite all the terrible things he did.

Ms Lisa and you grow closer than ever during the time she lives with you. You act like a happily married couple more than she ever did with her ex-husband. She said she'll do all household chores to pay you for allowing her to live there, though you really didn't mind either way. You cook together, watch movies, laugh and share past memories, study, have shopping dates and what not.

Lisa did not know it yet but she was deeply in love with you, she had forgotten how it felt to be treated with love and given importance. She wondered about your love life now, if you have someone you like or wish to date. You tell her you want to focus on studies and career, but there is indeed someone you like. She becomes curious, even slightly jealous realizing the gap between you and her.

One night, you were out until late drinking with some friends. You returned home in a drunk state and Lisa was ready to tend to you. While she was surprised you had this side to herself, she was more pleased to know more about you and wanted to care for you. She was already an expert in tending to drunkards, and you were unironically so adorable acting as one.

"Ms Lisaaaa~ You are so beautiful, you know thatttt?~" you slurred as she carried you to the bed, chuckling along the way.

"You teach... so welllll.... and you are so sweettttt~"

"Yes yes, I know. You have said that even as sober~" she whispered, laying you down then going to fetch some water for you. You curled up in your pillow and when she came back, you looked so cute to her.

"I love you... Ms Lisa... I love you so much...." you slurred in a drunken state, catching her by surprise.

She smiles and gives you the water then you immediately pass out while hugging her, your head laying on her soft bosom. Lisa caresses your head and kisses your forehead in return, "Say that when you are sober, I'll give you an answer you'll like~"

It was last day of your second year, you still had 2 more years to spend at the university. You wanted to wait till graduation but couldn't anymore, you wanted to confess. And it seems, Ms Lisa was having similar thoughts. Only you both knew how much you held back when you lived under the same roof. You find her in am empty classroom waiting for you.

"I love you, Ms Lisa. I have loved you since last year, and I want to date you. But um... I understand if you don't want to, so please don't feel forced to give me—"

Your words were blocked as Lisa pulled you close and connected her lips with you in a passionate and loving kiss. Her arms wrapped around your neck as she pushed you to the wall and continued kissing, her tongue already slipping in and dancing with yours.

"Took you long enough to say that, Y/n~"

"You... knew? Since when?"

"Hehe, that's my secret~" she winked at you then jumped in for another kiss, completely devouring you this time. She knew you would treat her well, she felt at home with you and she was confident she would love you forever now.

Milf!Rosalyne, a 31-year-old who is your new neighbor. She recently moved to the apartment in front with her husband and 4-year-old son. You were 16 when the family moved in, you welcomed them along with your mother and acted as good neighbors. Rosalyne was a pleasant housewife while her husband worked in the military hence often leaving her and their son home alone.

Rosalyne used to take home tuitions and manage the entire household by herself, you eventually ended up visiting her to help around and just give her company. She was lovely and overall amazing to talk to, you discovered she did the same course you were planning to do and took some advice from her.

You often had dinner at her place on the days her husband was home. You would play with her son and secretly observe how lovey-dovey they were, it was clear they deeply loved each other and nothing could come in between. You used to watch them giggle in the kitchen, cuddle on the sofa and share small kisses throughout the day.

Rosalyne often commented how you were like a helpful big sister for her son as you helped him in studies and played together, which meant she likely saw you as a child which wasn't surprising. She found you mature for your age and admitted liking your company and it was a bonus that her son did too. She was a great mother, extremely loving and supportive.

However, you moved away to another city at 18 for studies for 4 years. Now you have returned as you found a job in your hometown and decided to live in your parent's apartment as they moved out. You harbored a crush on Rosalyne back when you regularly met her, you couldn't help but feel jealous of her husband.

You reminisced your memories of your home as you climbed the steps to your apartment. 4 years passsed yet much didn't change about the place, and you were having a sense of deja-vu. The first thing you noticed was your neighbor's door, hoping the nameplate was still the name you remembered and, it indeed was. You felt happy as well as nervous meeting her again; how was she now? would she have changed in all this time?

Once you settled your things in your apartment, you decided to finally visit the woman you have had a crush on for years. You thought being away for 4 years would make you let go of these feelings, but you never stopped thinking about her. You didn't know what she thought of you, but it was more than likely she would only see you as a friend at most.

You rang her doorbell and waited in anticipation until the door finally opened, and your breath was taken away. She looked as beautiful as the day you first saw her, it felt like you fell in love with her all over again. She scanned your figure from head-to-toe until her eyes widened as she realized who was standing in front.

"Y/n?! Oh my god, it's been so long!" Rosalyne chimed and lunged forward to hug you affectionately, hearing her call your name sent butterflies in your stomach and the hug made your heart skip a beat. You were glad to see she remembered you so fondly.

"It's been long indeed. How have you been, aunty?"

"Awh, stop that. Just call me by my name, I don't want to feel old~" Rosalyne giggled and lightly punched your shoulder before holding your wrist and pulling you inside her house. Her house mostly looked the same, but there was something strangely missing that you couldn't pinpoint. She made you sit on the sofa while she brought some water and snacks for you.

"How is Ray?" that was her son's name.

"Oh, he's been fine. He's at school right now, I'm sure he'd be delighted to see you again!~"

You chatted away as you caught up with each other, you told her you are back to living her as you found a job and she seemed really happy to have you around again.

"How's uncle been? Will he be coming back anytime soon?" you asked in a casual manner, but the answer was unexpected.

"Rostam.... passed away 3 years ago. He died on a field mission."

You didn't know what to say. You observed her looking down with a sad look and touch her wedding ring, likely reminiscing about him. You apologized for speaking that but she assured it was fine, your parents never mentioned that he died 3 years ago otherwise you wouldn't have asked. You felt deeply saddened for her and wondered how she was handling things on her own all this time.

You went back to your place with a happier remark, you offered to help her whenever she required and promised to be there for her. You later on met her son in the evening and had dinner at her place, it felt just like old times for you and you were glad she was still here and you could meet her.

Milf!Rosalyne who works multiple jobs a week to make ends meet. The military provides for the housing out of respect for her husband's service, but she has to look after everything else on her own. She takes tuitions on the weekend and works as a receptionist in a hotel during the week, also doing some additional online work whenever she can.

She had wished to find a job related to her degree but all those jobs require long working hours away from home and she couldn't do that, her son was her first priority. She was fortunate to have a pretty face and a model-like figure even at her age, but it was also a curse sometimes in this field of work.

You ended up meeting her at her place of work one day, you had come there for a meeting. You were shocked to discover she had to work this kind of job now, you really wished to help her. You tried asking your boss if there was an opening but they were not hiring, and Rosalyne also denied due to the unsuitable work hours but she appreciated your thought.

Rosalyne also faced problems in dating life now. To no surprise, not many people were willing to get together with a 37 year old single mother. Some expressed disgust without even bothering to know what happened to her husband, while some were unwilling to take on the responsibilty of a child so soon. She had not moved on from her husband but she was trying for her son's sake, to give him a father. But none of the people she met made it easy for her.

It was a Saturday evening and you were planning to stay home to rest. You had been working a lot ever since you moved here and hadn't got much time for yourself, you even weren't able to meet Rosalyne as much as you had hoped to. An unexpected ring of your doorbell called you to the front door and you find none other than Rosalyne standing with a soft smile on her face.

"Are you free by any chance today, Y/n?"

"Oh, sure I am. Do you need some help?"

"Well.... want to hangout together at my place? We can order some food and just watch some movie or show if you'd like."

Your eyes widened in surprise at her invitation, you were ready to accept right away but didn't want to appear too eager.

"Ah, that would be great. But what about Ray?"

"I sent him to my mother's place for the weekend. He had been wanting to visit for some time."

You suddenly became nervous realizing you'd be alone with her at her house. You accepted and made your way to her apartment, you offered to bring some food out of respect but she assured you it was fine and that you can order whatever you like. You ordered some pizza and snacks, while Rosalyne also bought out the wine she had and offered you a glass.

Now, here you were sitting on her couch with wine in hand and watching some random movie you both agreed upon. You had not talked much all this time, you mainly exchanged some work stories and vented frustrations. Rosalyne shared some things about her son that happened to him at school, she always appeared so happy to talk about him. She really was a great mother.

Some time passed and more wine later, she was clearly tipsy. She leaned on your shoulder and was in a soppy state now as she started venting about how hard things have been for her in finding a new partner, and the constant harrassment she faces at work yet nobody is ready for a serious relationship as soon as they hear about her son.

"Tell me, Y/n.... what am I lacking? There's all these men who flirt with me all day but the moment I set up dates and reveal the truth, they all leave.... How is it so wrong for a 37 year old single mother to find someone new?!"

She was babbling in a drunken state while holding you. There was absolutely nothing lacking in her, she was perfect in your eyes and you wouldn't even think twice about dating her, heck even marrying her. You wanted to be there for her not just as a friend but more. But you had no idea if she ever saw you that way, or if she even liked women in the first place and how her son would react to that.

"I never wanted this, Y/n.... what did I do wrong? Ray doesn't deserve this, I want to give him a complete family.... I want to have a complete family.... But Rostam... he betrayed me...."

You were caught by surprise, "Betray you? What do you mean, Rosalyne?"

"He.... he cheated on me, I found out he cheated on me years ago after Ray was born. He hid it all this time.... I discovered this at his funeral.... I don't know what to think, I can't even remember him the same way anymore.... How could he?! What did I do to deserve this....?"

She was crying while holding you now. You felt anger rise in you hearing this secret, it was quite unbelievable to you he did that when you recall how lovey-dovey they used to be and Rostam seemed like a good man. Your desire to support and love her increased even more now, you couldn't bear seeing her in this state. So much happened to her while you were away, you wished you were here.

"No! Nothing is wrong with you and you are not lacking anything! You are beautiful and strong! You are an amazing mother, Ray loves you very much! You have been so resilient all this time, I actually admire you so much for doing everything on your own. I.... Please know I'll help you! In any way! Please don't put yourself down this way, Rosa!"

You chanted before hugging her tightly, trying to convery how serious you were and really wanted her to be well. You pulled away to look at her and saw her face reddened up as she gazed at you with a needy look before placing her hands on your shoulders and leaning close.

"Any way? Then.... date me, Y/n." You were shocked beyond belief but the next thing she did was worse. She leaned in and softly kissed you, it was a gentle kiss at first then you felt her push you down and straddle you then kiss deeper. You knew this was wrong, she was clearly drunk and swept away by her emotions. But the feeling of her lips on yours made you entranced, you have wanted to kiss her for so long.

"Yes... you will be good. Ray likes you too... I can explain to him.... Be with me, Y/n, please?"

She pulled you closer by your collar and went in for another kiss, you didn't expect to make out with her this way. You felt she was being desperate by choosing you this way, you could tell she likely didn't love you and wanted you just for her son's sake as you are the only one who gave her attention and expressed willingness. Rosalyne passed out before you could answer her, and you almost felt relieved.

Rosalyne apologized to you the next day for all her actions, she genuinely felt guilty for all the things she said and did. It gave you enough indication that she really didn't like you romantically and that you stood no chance. You forgave her rather easily, you really couldn't complain experiencing that. She saw you as a good friend and you'd try to maintain that.

However, your feelings started overwhelming you and you tried to make some distance from her for some time to be able to move on and remain a friend. You ended up ghosting her texts and calls, and also rejecting all her invites to spend time together by making up some excuse for work.

Rosalyne felt you were avoiding due to that day, and she hated that so much. You were the only one she had, she didn't realize when she started liking you romantically. She knew it was wrong of her to use you but she didn't mean to, she wanted to make amends and do things right. She couldn't bear being away from you.

"Y/n, may I borrow some rice?" Rosalyne came to your house one day asking for some rice like a good neighbor.

"O-Oh sure, come in." you subsconsciously let her inside and asked her to come to the kitchen. She watched you take out the rice then silently walked up to you and hugged you from behind, catching you off guard.

"R-Rosalyne?"

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry for that day, Y/n. I know I did something very wrong, but please don't punish me this way..... You have become so distant, so closed off, you avoid me so much. You can hate me all you want, but please don't leave me.... not you too, please...."

Her arms tightened around you and you could tell she was weeping. You hated seeing her in this state, you never wanted to make her cry.

"....I can never hate you, Rosalyne. And I'm not ignoring you because of that. It's just.... I like you. No, I love you. I love you very much, I have loved you for years. I loved you 6 years ago too.... I want to be there for you and help you, I really do. But... I need some time to move on and forget these feelings so that I can be a true friend for you...."

Rosalyne let go of the hug and enabled you to turn around to face her. Her eyes were filled with tears, a tear rolled down her cheek and you gently smiled then wiped it away and cupped her face.

"I don't expect you to love me, it's okay. But just.... give me some time. I'm not strong enough to move on from you if you keep doing these things...."

Rosalyne's heart skipped a beat and before she knew it, her body moved on it's own to push you towards the counter as her lips relentlessly seeked yours. Her arms wrapped around your neck and she passionately kissed you, this time she was completely sober and knew what she was doing. You kissed for god knows how long, you were a panting mess by the time she stopped.

".....I love you too, Y/n. I want to be together because I love you and not for Ray's sake. I want to spend the rest of my life with you...."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin women #la signora #signora x reader #ningguang x reader #ningguang #lisa #lisa x reader #genshin impact lisa #genshin #genshin impact signora #genshin ningguang #genshin lisa #la signora x reader

[forcebewitht]

Hey, since book 6 has been out in English for a while, could we possibly see an Overblot!Idia x reader? I really love the idea of him dramatically taking off the mask he has on to kiss the reader.

A Dance With Death (Overblot!Idia Shroud x MC!Reader)

(Artwork by: Trashochist on Deviantart, X (Twitter), and Instagram)

(Possible TW: Slight yandere implications, stalking, manipulation, branding)

…The time had finally come. All of the trials and tribulations that you had gone through. The pain and strife that had overtaken you in just a few short days. It had all led up to this. The kidnapping of your beloved companion, Grim. The destruction of the Ramshackle dorm. The kidnapping of those who had Overblotted that you had helped through their trauma and developed bonds with overtime. The kidnapping of even the Headmaster of Night Raven College himself. The entirety of these events had thrown Night Raven College into turmoil.

And that was just what excited Idia even more. He had been watching curiously since the very first moment you had arrived at the institution. I mean- a student that didn’t have any magic? Yet arrived within a coffin here to a school of magical students? It was unheard of- and just that alone excited him. This excitement only grew once the Overblots started. His family and organization, S.T.Y.X., had been all over the research of Overblotting for years. But now, after all of this time, someone so close to him (in the school, that is-) was at the forefront of a handful of Overblots? It was far too perfect of a chance to pass up with that new Ramshackle prefect. The plan was sprung, footage and data gathered. He knew that they were going to come for their beloved friends- they were just so cool like that. Literally a superhero in disguise, an underdog that soon had risen to be one of the top dogs within the school. There was a lot of promise with them- no. Not a promise. This was the work of the Fates themselves, he believed. The Fates themselves had led someone to him. Someone powerful. Someone strong. Someone capable of protection. Someone…that could get him back what he had lost all of those years ago.

There they were. Descending down to the depths of Hell that he himself had wrought. They looked horrible- worn for wear, really. To think, these oh so powerful figures from Pomefiore, Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Octavinelle, alongside the hero of the school themselves, would be bashed and broken already from mere secondary bosses? They wouldn’t stand a chance against this final boss. Idia grinned beneath the mask that he wore, his arms folding over themselves as the Blot around his figure billowed with every breath he took. He could feel the immeasurable power coursing through his veins- and the normally pessimistic male found himself growing rather cocky the more they walked forward. His golden gaze soon landed upon his hero- his knight in shining…well, uniform. He soon was speaking, his arms outstretched as the flames protruding from his figure began to blaze brighter- hotter.

“Bum bum buuummmm~! Our heroes have finally arrived to the final boss battle! But uh ohhhhhh~ looks like they didn’t level enough, now did they~?”

You found yourself gritting your teeth at Idia above. Already, Vil, Rook, and Epel were readying themselves at your side. The rest soon followed, the weapons they had gained during their prior fights with the Overblot Beasts being raised and ready to overwhelm Idia’s Blot. Idia began to cackle, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Uh ooohh~! Eheheheheheheeeee~! They found the special gear~! But that’s really not gonna do much, you guys! Totally on top of my game, y’know~? These HP and attack stats are through. The. ROOF!”

With his words, Idia’s Overblot Beast, Ortho, began to unleash a flurry of attacks upon you and your party, forcing all of them to scatter across the area. The Beast seemed to know precisely what to do- orders most likely given before this entire fiasco began. You began to find yourself being slowly but surely separated from everyone else thanks to the Beast’s targeted attacks. This separation was key- this was what Idia wanted. He watched as you eventually were cornered entirely, exactly where he wanted you. Once more, a grin spread out under his mask. You looked so cool and tough despite all of this neverending pressure, still shouting out commands for the others to work together to defend themselves, each other, or deflect the attacks his Beast was allowing itself to barrage them all with. He soared downwards until he was finally just before you. You had jumped back slightly upon noticing him approaching, but there truly was nothing that you could use at this time to defend yourself with. He leaned forward, his clawed hands now pressing themselves to either side of the wall beside your head.

“There you are~! The hero themselves~! The shining star of the hour- no, the entirety of Night Raven College~! This is our final stage, (Y/N)! Isn’t it thrilling~?”

“Idia, this is absolutely crazy! You are going to wind up killing us all with thi-”

A clawed finger pressed itself against your lips as he shifted, shushing you gently as he rolled his glowing amber eyes.

“Okay, listen- babe. (Y/N). Baby. Babycakes. Sweetheart. Sweetie pie. Wonder Student. I’m gonna stop you riiigghhtt there, actually- because I know. I know about the whole thing. But you’re gonna be my hero, you know~? You are going to save a life- just like you’ve been doing! So, it’s all good, ‘kay~?”

You began to attempt to protest, but you soon found yourself being swept into Idia’s arms and pulled about. The crazed Overblotted Idia now began to waltz with you despite all of the destruction around the both of you. He sighed blissfully, his eyes burning ablaze with a fiery passion- it was unnerving. He leaned forward once more, now beginning to hush into your ear through that glowing mask he wore.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, (Y/N). The countless hours I have spent watching and studying your damn near every move…I know your exact schedule bit by bit, y’know, ehehehehee~ I mean, with you and your coolness, you never know when you’re gonna stop another Overblot, honestly. But that coolness that you have doesn’t matter down here- and y’know why~?”

Your eyes soon widened considerably as you felt Idia grab onto your arm. One of his clawed fingers now was set ablaze with a small, blue flame. His grip was tight- commanding in every sense of the word. The flame began to trace itself upon your flesh as he continued to speak- ignoring your cries and attempts to struggle away from him.

“I know everything about you. I have seen your struggles. Your pain. I mean, separated from your home, whatever friends and family you had before…and thrust into a world of magic without any magic yourself. You have been left in the cold by the Fates themselves to fend for yourself. You struggle simply to survive from day to day without any money here…you struggle to maintain your cool and calm composure and keep people like those Heartslabyul first years and the little guy in line…and you then have to deal with the rantings and ravings of spoiled brats like those that Overblotted and, despite wanting for it all to just end, have to buck yourself up instead and keep them from ending it all? It is just an endless cycle of pain, regret, and a loveless life that you have fallen into.”

The more Idia spoke and you felt that flame burning upon your arm, the more you found yourself getting lost into the swirling golden pools upon his sleek, pale, oddly handsome face that were his eyes. For the first time since you had arrived here…you actually genuinely felt seen. You felt heard. Oddly enough, from someone that you had truly rarely seen outside of his own room within the confines of the school itself. Your own gaze finally shifted down to your arm as his finger retracted. He had burned the insignia of his family’s company, S.T.Y.X., onto your flesh. He blew out the fire on his finger, now grinning once more wickedly beneath his mask as his clawed hands now seized you by the waist once more, pulling you into his deadly embrace.

“I know, I know. I know it hurts. All of that going on and absolutely nothing to ever truly be gained from it all…well, my Wonder Student…that’s gonna end for you right now. With what I just gave you…you are mine. And when you’re mine, you have a purpose. You will be protected, provided for. No longer shall you be within the confines of a cage and hidden away in the shadows- you shall be the bright and shining star in our tale- and properly get those monetary stats and all of that raised~!”

Idia’s hand whisked over his face- where that mask was nestled. The mask faded away, revealing his pearly white, razor sharp teeth. They glistened at you as it felt Death was grinning at you- which it essentially was. His royal blue lips curled upwards into a wicked grin as he tugged you even closer to himself, now leaning all of the way forward towards you.

“C’mon~”

He began to pull you with him once more, twisting and turning your body with himself. His clawed hands trailed up and down your figure within your shared dance of destruction, his thoughts split between what he would do with you now that you belonged to him…and that of his brother’s life that you soon would pull up from the depths of the Underworld for him. You all would be a family together- and that only seemed to excite him further as his motions grew swifter, yet sly. He soon had you dramatically dipped, and his lips captured yours in a warm, passionate kiss…thus beginning your true dance with death.

~End~

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney #twst #twistedwonderland #twst x reader #twst idia #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twst overblot #twst idia x reader #idia x reader #overblot idia #overblot idia x reader #yandere idia shroud #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere idia x reader #yes i gave him a few more hades-like vibes #force writes