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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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Mm, Daddy Daddy

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Being a student is hard. For your Master's degree, you have to contend with classes, labs, and assignments in addition to feeding yourself. You're treading water coming into the end of the Spring Semester when your roommate tells you she is breaking her portion of your lease and moving in with her new fiancé. You're left at wit's end and you're not sure how you'll make ends meet. Until, that is, a friend and colleague suggests a website called icanbeyourbaby.com. You're not sure what you'll find there, but Jake Seresin is not it. He's everything you've ever dreamed of and more. But can you keep him despite the contract the website insists you draw up? Will this ever be more than a short-term business arrangement? You hope so. Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one. This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact. Warnings: Reader gets paid for her companionship. This is a Sugar Daddy/ Sugar Baby agreement, after all. Word Count: 4354 Author Note: Hello, hello all you beautiful people! I'm insatiable and you only have @desert-fern to blame for putting this thought in my head. Fern, this one is for you! I hope you'll find yourself a Jake to entice you into studying and call you 'His Good Girl'! 🥰 😘 Also, the real ones know. The title for this fic comes from Sam Smith & Kim Petras - Unholy.

AO3: Cross-posted here! Wattpad: Cross-posted here! Anthology Masterlist My Masterlist

College sucks. You love learning, and you love being surrounded by so many different, amazingly talented people. What sucks is how expensive it is. Even with a scholarship, a roommate, and not one, but two full time jobs, you're just barely making ends meet. You've just gotten out of a double shift from hell when you walk into your apartment to see that Joanna, your roommate, has her boyfriend over. They're making out on the couch, and while you'd love to ignore them, you need to make yourself dinner and then write a ten page treatise on the effects of pollution on bivalves due tomorrow during your last class for your final grade.

Just as you're pulling your last Cup Noodles out of the microwave, making a mental note to buy more tomorrow, Joanna speaks up.

"Hey, Blue." She sounds nervous for some reason. "I'm glad I caught you before you headed to your room for the night."

"Hey, Jo!" You sound about as tired as you look. "What's up?"

"Well…. Austinproposedtomeandisaidyes." Her last words are too fast for your already stressed brain.

"One more time, Jo? Slowly?" You point to your head. "My brain's kinda fried and I didn't get any of that."

"I said, Austin proposed to me and I said yes." She's proffering her left hand out to you and you can't help your own squeal of glee as you examine the ring and congratulate her.

"Umm, you're the sweetest, you know that, Blue?" Why does she sound so sad when she’s telling you such nice things? "I hate to do this to you, but, um. Well, I'm moving in with Austin this weekend. Our landlady is letting me break my part of the lease, so the place is all yours."

You just congratulate her again, and watch as she and Austin retreat to her bedroom. When the apartment is quiet again, you begin to think. You dimly note how the fork in your hands goes clattering onto the countertop as you try to mentally catalog how many extra shifts you'll need to take to make your next month's rent payment and pay for classes at the same time. But no matter how you do the math, it doesn't add up. You'd need to work more hours than there are in the day and you still wouldn't have enough money.

It's a conundrum that continues to churn away in the back of your mind as you slurp down the cold noodles and finish writing your paper. You'll need another roommate, at the very least. But summer break has already begun, and you're not likely to find one. Los Angeles is expensive. You mull it over for weeks, even after Joanna moves out. It's your lab partner at the Marine Institute, a girl named Samantha, who suggests an unlikely idea which might just be the most likely solution.

"Create a profile on this site: icanbeyourbaby.com. It's a sugar daddy/sugar baby site. It's full of older men looking for companionship. I started it a couple of months ago and I don't have to worry about anything anymore." It's true. Sammie doesn't look stressed or tired anymore. Her clothes are all new. You thought she'd just gotten a great job, which is why you'd asked if her boss was hiring. You'd never have expected Sammie with her neon pink and yellow hair, piercings and tattoos to be a sugar baby.

You turn the thought over and over in your head, trying to puzzle another way out of your situation without going into prostitution or living in the campus library out of a duffle bag for the rest of the year. When nothing else comes to mind, you fill out a profile on icanbeyourbaby. You stay as true to yourself as you can, feeling heat in your face and ears at the extremely in depth questions about sexual experience and kinks. Finally, you add a selfie taken recently at a friend's birthday party and hit submit. The congratulations screen is so cheery that you almost immediately want to slam your laptop lid down and curl up under your blankets.

But you don't, because right as you try to, huge cheesy letters spell out "Congratulations, you got a match!" You're then routed into a chat window. You've been matched with a user called longhornlover, and when you click onto his profile, your jaw nearly drops out of its socket.

His name, when you read through the details, is Jake Seresin. He's a lawyer working for a law firm downtown. He's just turned 34, and you can't quote this enough, he "needs a pretty girl on his arm for galas, dinners and parties, who is intelligent and able to keep up a conversation". Is this guy for real? At least the age gap isn't too bad. He's only 11 years older than you. Money is apparently no object and when you've flipped back to the open chat window, he's already messaged you asking you to meet him for coffee.

You can't be blamed for saying yes, right? It's way too easy to sink into chatting with Jake on the app. He's more attentive than every man you've ever spoken to and he gives you butterflies every time he messages you good morning.

The day of your first date, you wear your best dress and walk out of your building, prepared to walk to the bus stop in order to make it to your date on time. You're definitely not expecting the shining blue Porsche idling on the street or the six-foot tall man leaning elegantly against the door. Jake's even more gorgeous in person.

You stammer all over yourself as you greet him and then allow him to help you into the car, and whisk you away. He takes you to a little coffee shop outside of the city. The hostess leads you to a secluded booth and hands you a menu that is a leather bound book with no prices anywhere on the pages. It's quiet as you order an iced coffee and hand the menu back over.

"So, Blue, can I call you that?" At your nod, he continues, "Why did you sign up? What made you consider being a sugar baby?"

"Oh, I, um. My roommate just moved out, I'm working two jobs and I don't know if I'll be able to make rent, my school fees or be able to feed myself now that she's not going to be able to split rent with me." Your voice is quiet, ashamed. You're asking a stranger for money, practically.

"You're in school, your profile said. What are you studying?" He glosses over your shame so easily. Rich people really do have different cares from ordinary people like you.

"I'm at University of Southern California - Los Angeles getting my Masters in Marine Biology and Biological Oceanography." At his inquiring glance you continue, elaborating on the program a little bit. You finish up just as your waitress drops off your coffee, twirling her manicured nails in her hair as she smiles fetchingly at Jake. It's very satisfying to see how he doesn't respond to her at all.

"Thank you for telling me about yourself." He takes a sip of his coffee. "So what are you hoping to get out of this arrangement?"

This is the question you've been asking yourself non-stop for the past few days.

"I'd like to not have to worry about whether I'll be able to eat if I pay my rent and tuition. Or if I'll be able to sleep at night if I work and still have assignments I need to complete." You sip on your coffee, praying that all of your nervous sweating hasn't exposed the raccoon circles permanently tattooed under your eyes. "W-what do you want out of this?"

"I want you to be healthy and happy. And, when I have a company party or event to attend, I want you on my arm, smiling and being just as gorgeous as you are right now." His voice is so soft that the butterflies swarm up your esophagus.

"I can do that. Um, what about, um, sex things?" Your voice drops down to a whisper as you say the last words, sinking into your chair while furtively glancing around to see if anyone heard you.

"That's all up to you. I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend and lavish a bunch of affection on you, including making you feel good. If that's something you're not comfortable with, then let me know." Jake's green eyes are glimmering with amusement as you stutter out your agreement.

Your eyes go even wider when he fishes an iPad out of his briefcase and pulls out a contract. He goes over every inch of it with you, making changes based on your comfort level, and then you both sign. That's how you became a sugar baby.

At the beginning it was all new and exciting. Jake deposited a quarter of a million dollars into your bank account the next morning, calling it your quarterly allowance. A part of you still doesn't believe that he's real. In the six months since that day, you've gone to no fewer than five parties, dressed to the nines in designer gowns with diamonds dripping off of your fingers, throat and wrists and been swanned around as Jake Seresin's girlfriend.

You love the kisses and possessive grip he has on your waist at those events. But you're at the point in your relationship, and it is a relationship - Jake had shredded the contract months ago, where you want more. You want the sleepovers at his penthouse downtown. You want him to call you his Good Girl and mean it as you bounce on his cock. So you take matters into your own hands. One Friday afternoon you let yourself into his penthouse, glad that at least you have the keys and don't need permission to do so. You set your bookbag down on the leather ottoman in the living room and pad into his bedroom.

Jake's bedroom is your favorite place in the entire apartment. It's all pale wood and glass. His bed sits against the sole wall, a plush pillowy California King that you love taking naps in. You walk into the gigantic walk-in closet and pull out one of his button-down shirts, a pale cream one that you love seeing on his golden skin. The fabric is rich and silky and most importantly, ever so slightly transparent. You strip off all of your clothes and swathe yourself in the silky shirt. The cool fabric has your nipples turning into firm points and as you look at yourself in the mirror, you know Jake's going to love seeing you in his clothes, too.

Then comes the next part of your plan. You settle down on the sofa with a throw over your lap and begin to study. Even though you have seduction on your mind, it's still finals season. Now, you wait. You're completely immersed in your Marine Law class when you hear the door open and Jake walks through the door. He's got a bag of groceries in one hand and his briefcase in the other.

"Hi, doll!" He sounds exhausted.

"Hi, Jake!" Your voice is soft as you wave at him from your blanket burrito on the couch.

"How was your day, baby?" He sounds exhausted. You answer him from the couch, barely noticing him until you feel a kiss press against the side of your head. It's Jake, now dressed in just a pair of sweats with damp hair.

"When did you shower?" You can't help the confusion in your voice as you rub at your eyes from behind the frames of your glasses.

"Twenty minutes ago, baby." You can feel the amusement in his voice. "What're you so immersed in, huh?"

"Marine law." You keep scanning the slides in front of you, ignoring how his hands are tracing across your shoulders.

"Y'know, baby doll, I am a lawyer. So you can ask me for help if you want?" You can feel your resolve flagging as he sets your laptop down, unwraps you slowly from the throw, and tugs you into his lap. His hands trail teasingly over the bar expanse of your thighs, pausing at the junction of your hips, caressing the soft bare skin there.

"What do we have here, Baby Blue?" His voice is deep and velvety as he rucks the shirt up a little, knuckles firm against your bare stomach.

"W-wanted to wear your shirt, Daddy." You can hear the rumble of his voice as he groans, trailing his fingers over your peaked nipples and back down to the apex of your thighs.

"And the rest of your clothes?" He's got a firm grip on each thigh, tugging them apart until your bare pussy is completely exposed.

"I-I took 'em off. Just wanted to be surrounded by your scent, Daddy." Your voice is a mewl as Jake massages teasingly over your clit, the barely there touches sending even more heat coiling through your veins.

"And you decided to be my good girl and study while you waited for Daddy to come home?" His calloused fingers pluck at your nipples with each word.

"Y-yes." Your chest is heaving, your mind going fuzzy and blank as Jake's - no - Daddy's hands rob you of all thought.

"You've been such a good girl, baby doll. D'you want your reward?" The fondness in Daddy's voice has you writhing as his hands open your tight walls up for him.

"Yes please, Daddy! Please!" He lifts you up with one thick forearm before working the sweats down to his knees. Now, you can feel Daddy's cock as it glides over your weeping hole as you wriggle in his lap.

"Come sit on this cock, Blue, baby." He punctuates the order with kisses that steal the breath from your lungs. You love when Daddy kisses you like this. You tug the constricting button down off, and carefully sink down onto his hard length. Daddy's cock is so big and thick that it nearly splits you apart. Each inch has your mouth open in a silent scream, and when he bottoms out, you're sweaty and exhausted. Your skin feels too tight and electric shocks are zipping across every inch that he touches.

Daddy takes pity on you, letting you quiet on his cock, feeling how your walls clench around his length as you settle back against his chest.

"God, look at you, baby Blue. So pretty, my good girl, impaled on Daddy's cock like that." Daddy's big hands cup your tits, and you shudder before melting further into his arms. After several moments, he leans forward, tugging your laptop back onto your lap. "Gotta make sure my good girl is comfy. That she knows daddy is here for her always. Now, you sit here and study. If you're good, I'll fuck you until you scream later."

You're already so wet and aching for Daddy, that it'll be sweet torture to spend so long impaled on his length. His cock is pressing up against all the parts that make you see stars. But you're Daddy's good girl. So you do what he says. The first few pages, you're completely distracted, wriggling around in Daddy's lap, wanting more stimulation. But eventually you fall into a flow state, Daddy's presence comforting.

You lose time. You must, because it's dark when the laptop closes and Daddy peppers kisses across your exposed shoulders. You're still impaled on his length, each thick inch pressing against your walls in the perfect way. You're slow to respond to the teasing caresses, nuzzling against the palm of Daddy's hand sweetly.

"Aww, baby Blue. You're so good for me, doll." Daddy's voice sounds so fond and it makes a small part of you light up. His praise and gentle words make you feel even better than his cock buried in you. When he lifts you off of his length, you sob at the empty feeling, weeping cunt clenching on nothing where it had once been wrapped around Daddy.

Before you can blink, you're splayed out on your back on Daddy's comfy leather sofa. He's crouched between your legs, gazing raptly at your heat as he pets across your hips and lower belly in slow soothing strokes.

"D-daddy?" Your voice is tiny, as you try to swivel and nudge your hips closer to him.

"Yeah, baby doll?" Daddy punctuates his words with kisses against your inner thighs and your mound. Your mind whites out a bit at the pressure as he flattens his tongue over your fluttering, wet slit. His voice is smug as he continues, "D'you want something from Daddy, baby?"

You don't get the chance to respond, though. Between one breath and the next, you're being treated like a steak dinner placed before a starving man. Daddy feels like he's everywhere. His mouth and fingers devour you whole. Your entire body feels like a live wire, warring sensations dancing like electric currents across your skin as the band in your gut winds tighter and tighter. It feels like you're on a tightrope, dangling over a cliff.

Each heaving breath feels like too much and yet not enough oxygen is entering your lungs. You're begging and babbling, tugging on Daddy's hair in graceless sweeping motions as your mind forgets how to move or do anything than be at Daddy's pleasure. It's when Daddy growls against your cunt that you cum, screaming his name as your muscles lock with the force of your orgasm.

When you come back to yourself, it's on the cool satin sheets of Daddy's big bed. You feel wrung out and exhausted, mind floaty even as your limbs struggle to cooperate. You've just managed to sit up when Daddy wanders in, holding a condensation covered glass in his big hand. You make grabby hands for him, smiling as he drags you against his chest as you sip on the cool juice in the glass.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You nuzzle in closer, sleepily peppering kisses across his chest.

"Feel good, Daddy. Y'always make me feel good." The kiss Daddy presses against your lips consumes you body and soul. It takes several moments before you collect your frayed strands of thought.

"B-but, what about you, daddy? Did you cum?" Your voice is soft as you take his length in your hand.

"No, Blue, baby." His breathing hitches with each pass of your hand as you work his length in your fist. "But you don't have ta'...... Ahh!"

Each stuttering breath makes your smile just a little wider. Daddy's so pretty, his tawny mane of hair spread out against the pillow as a flush spreads across his chest. His big hand is curled around your bare hip as you slowly pump his length.

"Doll, are you just going to tease me all night?" His voice is so fond as he tugs you close.

"No, Daddy." You melt into his chest as he kisses you. Each long slow slide of his tongue plundering your mouth has you pressing yourself closer. You kiss your daddy slowly, losing yourself to the touch.

"D'you want something baby?" There are big hands on your hips, stalling every movement as you try and fail to search for friction.

"Blue!" He's laughing now, peppering kisses across your pouting face as you fight to eke some pleasure out for yourself. But no matter what you do, you don't move.

"What're you searching for, huh, baby?" You growl as a result, stilling your hips as you suck kisses down his throat. You relish in the moans pouring out of Daddy's throat, brattily ignoring the teasing path of his hands across your lower stomach and breasts.

It's the sharp sting of a hand on your ass that has you squeaking and your mouth parting from the hickey you'd been leaving on Daddy's neck.

"Oh, baby. Did that sting?" As Daddy's big hands rub over your aching ass, you arch your back and try to nuzzle closer. But all that does is bring your bare skin closer to his mouth. The first wet press of his tongue to your peaked nipples has you moaning. You're so occupied by the dual sensations of the hands kneading your ass and the wet insistent suction of Daddy's mouth on your tits that you barely notice the pinching insistent pressure as Daddy's dick presses into you.

When Daddy finally bottoms out, you're already a drooling mess. This sugar baby arrangement is the best decision you've ever made. Daddy's a million times better than your first fumbling sexual experience in your prom date's pickup. His thick hard length in you has your pussy fluttering and already has you on the edge of an orgasm. When you're tipped onto your back in the sheets and Daddy starts to move, you're completely at his mercy.

Each thrust has you taking Daddy from root to tip. The entire room is filled with the lewd slapping of sweat-slippery skin against skin. Your breaths are punched out gasps as Daddy draws your legs up to his shoulders, holding them securely against his chest with one thick forearm as the other presses insistently against your engorged clit. Each brush of his calloused fingers coats them in your wetness and tips you even further towards your orgasm. You're babbling, hardly able to keep eye contact with the piercing, intent gaze Daddy's leveling on your sweat slicked skin. You cum with a scream, back arching off the bed.

"Aww, Blue, baby. Look at you! Fucked dumb on Daddy's thick hard cock." Daddy sets your legs back down as he pulls out of you and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest.

"You're going to be good, right Baby?" You're grinding your ass back against Daddy's ass unconsciously even as Daddy wraps a hand around your throat. You love having Daddy all over you like this. Even though you just came, you can't help wanting more. He uses the extra leverage to kiss your slack mouth until a thread of saliva stretches between your mouths.

"Daddy's gonna fuck your wet little pussy just like this with a hand around this little throat until you gush for me." His voice slows to a hiss as he teasingly runs his finger through your sensitive folds. "And you, baby. You're going to tell your daddy exactly how good he feels in that pretty little pussy."

You're nodding frantically, but that's not enough for Daddy. He smacks your pussy, tapping it until you're writhing against the steel hold he's got around your waist.

"Y-yes, Daddy! Yes! I can do that!" Your voice is a high pitched keen as you sob your relief at having Daddy buried inside you again.

He starts off slow, keeping the pace teasing as he pulls out of you until just the tip is sheathed and burying himself in you over and over again. Your hands are grasping onto his arms with all your strength, as you let Daddy chase his pleasure in you. His hand is firm against your throat, the pressure making you lightheaded and the sensations setting your blood aflame. With each slap of his hips against your ass you're telling him how good he feels. He's so big and thick you can't help it.

"Blue, baby." Daddy's voice is a purring growl which has your pussy dripping even wetter as your third orgasm builds. This one is going to be even harder than the last one. His hands pinch and tug at the heavy swell of your tits as they bounce with each thrust. "Cum for me, pretty baby. C'mon. You can do it. Cum for daddy."

"Yes, Daddy. Right there! M'so close. Wanna cum on your cock. Please. Please. Please. Please." You're still babbling for permission when Daddy's hands slide down to your clit and massage on the bud in time with his thrusts. When you come, it feels like you've been struck by lightning. You see stars behind your eyes as your orgasm builds and crests, seeming to never end. You vacantly feel Daddy empty himself in your sopping cunt, but that's it.

When you wake up, it's in the big bathtub in the master ensuite. There are hands carefully massaging shampoo into your hair and the water is steaming in the quiet night air. There's a deep relaxation weighing your muscles and bones as you blink yourself awake.

"Hey, Blue. How d'you feel?" It's Dadd- no, Jake, who's making you feel good.

"I feel so good, Jake." You kiss his wrist before turning so you can kiss him. He hefts you into his arms, not caring in the slightest that you're dripping soap and water all over his floor.

"You're back up, huh, baby?" At your nod, he kisses you before continuing. "I know you told me you've never been so far down before. And it definitely wasn't discussed. Was that okay, for you?" He sounds so worried as he sits on the tile with you dripping all over him.

"I'm perfect, Jakey. Perfect. It was everything I needed and more. If you liked it, I'd love to be your Baby Blue again?" You hope he'll agree. You love being Daddy's baby and brat.

"Absolutely, you can. But for the rest of tonight, how about we curl up on the sofa? I made some pasta and garlic bread." He grins at your nod before joining you in the tub again. This? You wouldn't give this up for anything in the world.

"Hey, Blue?" He sounds sated and sleepy.

"Yeah, Jake?" You cuddle closer to him and kiss his skin.

"Move in with me?" He sounds nervous. Like you’d reject him? After everything you’ve built a relationship with him? Not possible. You can’t believe what he’s asking you. You can’t even pretend to think about it. Your mouth runs away before your brain even processes the words screaming, "YES!" while you kiss him until he’s breathless again. This man? You’re going to keep him forever.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🥰 @mayhemmanaged 🥰 @cassiemitchell 🥰 @thedroneranger 🥰 @cherrycola27 🥰 @roosterforme 🥰 @roostette 🥰 @dakotakazansky 🥰 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🥰 @sarahsmi13s 🥰 @lovinglyeternal 🥰 @lovingbradshawafterdark 🥰 @mamaskillerqueen 🥰 @chaoticassidy 🥰 @genius2050 🥰

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman smut #reader insert #smut #Spotify

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year

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imagine changkyun rewarding you after your finals ended - being all soft and caring ♡ imagine sitting on his lap as he gives you soft kisses while his hands gently caress the sides of your body before firmly grabbing onto your waist. imagine as you slowly hump his jean-covered buldge while he smirks down at you, cooing softly and giving you crude praises and degradation in his low tone -

"that's my dirty girl, humping me like a bitch in heat hm?"

"such a good baby - studied so hard for your final papers yeah? gonna get such good grades?"

"let me reward my hardworking slut~"

just imagine 😇

first of all this made me cry and scream this is exactly what i needed ty for sending

“baby, baby, let me get my jeans off first—”

“nooo,” you whine, clinging to your boyfriend even tighter as you grind into him.

changkyun just sighs and leans back in the chair he’s sitting in, rearranging the evening in his mind.

he had a whole thing planned for tonight to celebrate the fact that you’d finished all of your finals for the semester— he had already started to cook dinner and everything, but it seemed like his plans would have to wait. he didn’t mind in the slightest, aside from the fact that there was an unsupervised pot of water boiling on the stove. tonight was to celebrate you, after all. if all you wanted him to do was fuck the stress of finals week out of you, then that’s what he’d do.

he should have seen it coming, honestly. you’ve been buried in your studies for the past week and a half. there hasn’t been time for any sort of intimacy, sexual or otherwise. your graduate program usually keeps you pretty swamped but this semester had been particularly brutal, which could only mean that finals week would be much the same. you’ve barely spoken a word to your boyfriend since saturday, brushing off any attempts of affection with no explanation other than “i’m busy.”

changkyun had been understanding, of course… even when you got a bit snippy with him. he was more than happy to take care of himself in the shower, with a hand around his cock and a mind full of thoughts of you. it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the real thing, but it was enough.

you, on the other hand, haven’t been able to get any relief, even though you’d clearly needed it. of course you’d be desperate after going so long without touch— his or your own. it was cute, your frustration… but changkyun would never tell you that.

“you want my fingers first?” he offers as he pulls your pajama shorts to the side so that the only barrier between you and his fingers is your underwear.

“no, just want you.”

“baby, how am i supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me get my dick out of my pants?” he asks, voice edged with exasperation.

“figure it out.”

changkyun groans. the jeans are growing more and more uncomfortable by the second with how hard he’s getting in them. “i’m going to need you to work with me here. c’mon, be a good girl for me and let me undress us.”

the pet name has a different effect than intended. instead of getting you to listen and climb off of his lap, it just makes you grind down on him harder.

you whine and bury your head in his shoulder, taking the seam of his t-shirt in your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. changkyun rubs your back soothingly, giving in. he’s much stronger than you. he could overpower you and get you to stop if he really wanted to. he just doesn’t have the heart to.

“close, baby?”

“y- fuck, yeah,” you answer right away.

“gonna cum all over my lap like a slut? my slut? then are you gonna be good and let me fuck you like you wanted?”

“mhm…”

“yeah? good. you’re gonna be full of me all night long, my love. gotta make sure my girl feels good after working so hard.”

#answered #anon #monsta x smut #mx smut #changkyun smut #im changkyun smut #i.m smut

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goldengleams · 9 months

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adam fantilli level 1000 clinger

“Fantilli, I have to go to class!” You groaned, trying to shove the boy off of you. He barely moved, only nestling his head further into your neck. You were both huddled under his comforter, trying to stay warm.

“No, stay here,” Adam said, his morning voice on full display. His brother, Luca, had already gotten up to go to his early class, so it was only the two of you in the small dorm room. Your room was a little bigger since you were a sophomore, but you somehow always ended up in Adam’s shared room.

“Adam,” you warned. Finally, Adam lifted his head a little to look you in the eyes. Whenever you said his first name, he knew you were serious.

“I love you, but I have to go to class,” you repeated and he shifted off of you so that you could climb out of his bed.

“Lunch today?” Adam asked, but he knew he didn’t have to. You both always went to your morning classes on Thursdays and met up for lunch, sometimes with his brother and other members of the Michigan hockey team.

You nodded, giving him a quick peck before you got ready for the day. Adam propped himself up in bed so he could watch you get ready, something he always did. He watched you in awe as you went through your morning routine. It had become pretty standard to sleep over on Wednesday nights after Adam had asked you to a month ago, so you had started bringing over clothes and your skincare.

You said goodbye to Adam before walking out and heading to your class, thinking about him on the way. Ever since you and Adam Fantilli had started dating, it felt like you were rarely apart. Prior to Adam, you had dated someone on the football team and practically swore off athletes after the way he had treated you. Adam was also younger than you, so he completely surprised you when he swept you off your feet. His bright eyes and even brighter smile had made every day better. After a semester long group project in the class you were in, he had finally asked you out, and you hadn’t looked back ever since.

Adam was the nicest guy you had ever met, and you didn’t just say that because he was your boyfriend. He always went out of his way to be there for you and support you as much as he could with his busy schedule.

Recently, Adam had expressed the idea of declaring for the NHL Early Entry Draft coming up in the Spring. You remembered feeling excited for him, but once he explained what would probably happen, you felt the air change. While you weren’t dwelling on the very real and very near future, you knew Adam was. The boy had become quite clingy in the past few weeks, and you were starting to get a little annoyed.

“She is still alive!” Your roommate, Jade, said when you sat down next to her in your marketing class. Your roommate had complained about your lack of girls’ nights, saying that all you did was spend time with Adam.

“You are so dramatic,” you rolled your eyes, pulling out your laptop.

“Y/N, I’ve barely seen you in a whole week! That hockey player has you tied down, girl,” she sassed back. “Can you please come home and sleep with me tonight? I’m getting lonely.”

You laughed, knowing your roommate hated the dark. She loved when you two talked at night and went over your days. “Yes, I’ll come back tonight. I was only over at Adam’s because he asked me to.”

She only hummed in response as the lecture began. While you tried to take notes, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Last week, when you went over to the hockey house with Adam and his teammates, he had been a little overly touchy. You both didn’t mind PDA, but after a few drinks, Adam definitely couldn’t comprehend personal space.

“Babe, baby,” Adam had whined, clinging to your arm as you tried to go dance.

“Fantilli, let me go,” you chuckled. You had decided to take it easy, only having one drink so you could keep anyone else on their feet. Adam had not done the same.

“Stay here,” he pleaded. “Me and Luke are so much fun, so much fun, babe.”

Adam wrapped both arms around you then, trying to keep you standing with him in the kitchen. He wasn’t a jealous guy and he never cared who you were friends with, but something about letting you go off into the hockey house without him made him agitated.

“I bet, but I’m going to dance with Emma. I’ll be back soon,” you had kissed him and left, missing the looks that the boys at the kitchen counter were sharing.

And maybe last month, when you had a big test to study for, you let his clinginess get in the way of your success.

Adam knew you had to study, but he had begged you to let him come over to watch the newest episode of your favorite show. You had given in but told him he needed to leave after it was over.

“Y’know, if Jade’s not here, we could do whatever we want,” Adam had tried to convince you.

“Babe, I can’t,” you groaned. “This assignment is worth a big percentage of the final project.”

Adam, always a fan of procrastination, had practically begged you to let him stay with the promise that he would be quiet so you could study. You had tried to deflect his pleas, but after the fourth one, you gave in, letting him kiss you and pull your attention from your assignment. Long story short, Adam wasn’t quiet and you didn’t really study. A long night of cuddling and fun led to a bad grade for you.

Your next class passed by with the same thoughts swimming in your head. Soon enough, you were walking towards the student union to meet Adam and his teammates for lunch.

He wasn’t there when you arrived, but Luca and Rutger were sitting there already. You waved to them and walked over to sit next to them.

“I’m surprised to see you without your other half,” Rutger joked. You pulled out your phone to place your order, but couldn’t stop your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you two are usually sucking face whenever possible,” Rutger said, laughing like he had said the funniest joke. “Adam is fucking whipped, Y/N, like you know when he-”

“He just means you and Adam are usually together, Y/N,” Luca cut in, giving you a reprieve from Rutger’s energy.

“Luca, we didn’t even have class together, I’m not always with Adam,” you laughed, a little uneasy. You and Adam weren’t always together. At least, you didn’t think so.

“Look, I love my little brother, but he can be a little…attached,” Luca said, trying to make you understand as he gestured in the air with his hands.

“Attached?”

“Like, 1,000 level clinger attached,” Luca admitted. “He had this stuffed animal he got as a baby and I swear he didn’t put that thing down for like, six years, Y/N.”

You let your head fall against the back of the tall booth behind you. Rutger had stopped caring about the conversation, airpods in his ears, but Luca was staring at you.

“I mean, maybe he’s not being that way with you, I don’t know, but he told me he felt like you were pulling away and I told him it was probably because he wasn’t giving you any space. I felt like I could see it on your face when Rutger opened his mouth, fucking idiot,” Luca laughed softly. Even though he hadn’t known you very long, you felt like he could always tell where you were at emotionally.

You sighed, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “Is he gonna be mad if I say something?”

“No,” Luca assured, shaking his head. “He falls really hard, really fast. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”

“Maybe,” you said. “He told me about the draft, so it’s probably because of that.”

“He’d rather know than not, I promise, Y/N,” Luca said, and to the side, you could see Adam walking up with Rutger’s sister.

Luca gave you a little nod and thumbs up which made you feel a little more confident in talking to Adam later.

True to your word, you slept in your own dorm bed that night. Jade was thrilled, and you two had a little girls’ night since your only Thursday class was in the afternoon.

You woke up alone as Jade had an earlier class. You turned your phone on and it dinged as soon as it fully awoke.

From: fantilli 💓

Do u wanna stay over tn? Luca’s out

You smiled a little, knowing Luca had probably done so for your sake. You quickly typed back your answer.

To: fantilli 💓

Sure, can’t wait!

I’ll bring chipotle 🌯

Adam gave your message a thumbs up and you went about your day, trying not to think about the conversation you would have that night. You had already told Adam that you weren’t worried about how your lives would change in the coming months, but you didn’t know how he was handling it all. It seemed like he was handling it by refusing to let anything close go.

Once you finished your day and got the two of you dinner, you drove back to campus to go over to Adam’s dorm room. You couldn’t find the words that you wanted to say to him. You knocked softly on the door to Adam’s room, assuming he was inside.

“Fantilli? It’s me,” you called. Quickly enough, Adam opened his door and a smile spread across his face. He pulled you into a hug and gave you a quick kiss.

His smile was infectious and soon you were smiling, too. The cold that you felt escaped your body and you could only see and feel his content warmth.

“Hey babe! Oh, it smells so good.”

He took the bag of food from your arms and you carefully set your backpack down. Luca’s side of the room was all cleaned and you sent a silent thank you to him from across campus.

“No Luca tonight?” You questioned, taking a seat at his desk.

“No, he’s over at Molly’s for the night,” he said absentmindedly, setting up your food so you two could eat.

“Molly McG?” You asked.

Adam gave you a distracted hum in response. “Yeah, they’ve had a thing for a while. We knew them before we came here, so.”

You rolled your eyes, everyone seemed to know everyone in the hockey world. The idea that everyone would soon know Adam made you nervous.

He handed you your food and patted the spot next to him on his bed, motioning for you to come sit next to him. He seemed completely at ease, not knowing the inner dialogue you were dealing with.

You both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching a repeat on his laptop, before you paused the show to capture his attention.

“Oh, did you want to watch something else?” Adam asked innocently. You shook your head, already feeling bad for making things awkward.

“No, Adam,” you said quietly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Adam slowly put his fork down and turned to look at you. His blue eyes were wide as he anticipated what you would say next.

“It’s nothing bad, I swear,” you assured. “I just wanted to check in with you.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” he said nervously, abandoning his food completely. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Are you okay? With everything coming up in the near future, I mean,” you trailed off. You didn’t need to spell it out for him, he knew what you meant.

Adam had a really good chance at being drafted within the top 10, maybe even top 5, news outlets were saying. You had read them all, of course. Whenever your mind drifted to Adam and you, you went online to see what the reality of his future would be.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, averting his eyes. It was one of his nervous tells and you knew it.

“Adam,” you moved closer to him so you could cup his face in your hands. “You can tell me anything.”

“You can’t understand it, Y/N. I can’t even understand it all,” he chuckled. “I’ve been dreaming of getting drafted and playing professional hockey since I was a little kid, it’s almost like there’s nothing left after it.”

A still silence fell between the two of you.

“It means I’m leaving everything I’ve ever known, Y/N,” he mumbled. “I’m scared.”

Those words broke your heart. Adam dropped his head to your shoulder and you could feel the fabric start to stick to your skin from dampness. You let him fall into you, trying to comfort him the best that you could. You thought of all of the times that Adam had been there for you, letting you rant to him whenever you needed it. Adam expressed his emotions different from you, bottling everything up and clinging for dear life.

“It’s gonna be the time of your life, Adam,” you assured, wiping his tears. “And everyone here will be cheering you on, babe, I know it.”

Adam gave you a watery smile and you swore your heart could’ve melted right then and there.

“And I want to stay together, if that’s what you want, too,” you said. Adam nodded rapidly before peppering kisses all over your face.

“I’m sorry for being so clingy, I just wasn’t sure how much time we had left,” Adam admitted in between kisses. “Luca gave me some relationship advice.”

You both laughed at that, glad Luca was playing both sides to help you out.

“It’s okay Fantilli, you can be my 1,000 level clinger any day,” you giggled.

The rest of the night, you and Adam cuddled and watched your favorite comfort movies. He knew you’d always be there for him, and you knew he’d always be there, maybe even attached at your hip.

_______________________________

Finally had 5 minutes since being back at college to post this, hope you like it!!! More requests will be done soon, trust 🤞🏽

#adam fantilli #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli x reader #umich hockey #umich boys #umich imagine #hat trick hotties 🏒🧢

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roseykat · 1 year

Text

Tempest Needs

Word count: 5.1k

Pairings: Minho x Jisung x female reader

Warning: minors DNI, I post NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever. Much appreciated.

Tags: polyamorous relationship, swearing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader receiving and giving), bondage, use of traffic light system (green), orgasm denial, oral fixations.

Summary: Jisung can be a menace when it comes to teasing. Unfortunately for him, he ends up getting a taste of his own medicine.

Note: Thank you for the love on my previous work!! I’m currently in the midst of figuring out a schedule to upload posts since I work a 9 to 5. But I have a lot of concepts that I’ve already started on so I’m far from low on inspiration.

Jisung has always been the mischievous type; always riling someone up, provoking or taunting either you or Minho here and there. But at the end of the day, it’s all in good fun.

In hindsight, it’s one of the benefits of being in a relationship with more than one person, because you have someone - like Minho - to balance Jisung out.

That being said, he is one perverse individual when it comes to the art of teasing, knowing that neither you nor Minho know how to cope with his antics.

He can be out of the blue, spontaneous, and strikes when one leasts expects it. There are times where he can bait Minho with his charm or entice you with his words. Overall, he can be an outright torment.

Suffice it to say, Jisung had it coming for him after the very subtle yet obvious accounts of teasing towards you and Minho. Even in public he was a menace.

For instance, Sunday’s are specifically allocated to prepare for the week ahead. When the three of you went grocery shopping, Minho was in charge of pushing the trolley. Jisung - who was supposed to be scouting for items on the list, wrapped his arms around Minho’s waist in a hug, penguin walking right behind him.

To top it off, he’d slide and caress his hands under Minho’s shirt, smoothing over the plains of his lower abdomen.

The other instance is where Jisung would come up right behind you and press his hips flush against your ass when you were examining things on the shelves. He tried to pull it off as if he were looking at things too when in reality, he just wanted to tease you.

His needy behaviour lasted almost a week and a half. That’s when he brought to your attention that nobody had slept together in a fortnight, which for his calibre in bed, explained a lot.

“Everyone’s been so busy,” Jisung tried not to sound as if he was whining, but that’s exactly what he sounded like.

He was sprawled out like a starfish on your bed while you sat at your desk cramming notes for an important up and coming test. Jisung was lucky that he only had assignments to hand in which he worked on relatively early. In turn, this freed up a lot of his time.

“It’s almost the end of the semester,” you reminded him. “Everything is due practically all at once.”

“We haven’t fucked in two weeks,” Jisung moaned, flat out ignoring the real reason why he’s in this sort of predicament.

Your fingers stilled over the keyboard on your laptop, “two weeks? Has it actually been that long?”

“Yes!” He really whines this time. “Minho is tired these days too, and all I get is making out with him for five minutes before he wants to sleep. You’re the same as well.”

It almost made you laugh at how needy Jisung was. Then again, it sometimes escapes your mind that he actually has a pretty high sex drive which you and Minho were obliviously ignoring.

If there was one contributing factor to blame, it was University. Being a full time student with a strenuous timetable means a lot of sacrifices. Unfortunately, Jisung felt the sting from being a result of those sacrifices you and Minho had to make.

“I guess it has been a while,” you started to ponder on the thought. “Maybe we should make time for it this weekend since we finish on Friday.”

“God, please,” Jisung begged and kicked his feet.

By the time that conversation had ended, Jisung had packed his gear and left the house for the gym. It gave you roughly half an hour to get some real study done when Minho had arrived from his last lecture of the day.

That's when you decided to raise the idea with him.

“This weekend?” He repeated, unpacking his bag as soon as he got into his room. “I don’t see why not. Plus with all our studies out of the way, we’d probably be less tired right?”

“That’s what I thought as well,” you said to him. “I guess we'll let him know when he gets back. He’s been dying to get some action.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, “that needy for it is he?”

“Oh come on,” you replied. “Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t act that way if Jisung and I unwillingly ignored your needs.”

You had a valid point.

Similar to Jisung, Minho could and would fuck on a daily basis - and has done. Only until the near end of the semester is where he dedicates all his energy and time towards his studies. It gets to the point where there’s not much room for any other activity other than working out, sleeping, or eating.

However, if that wasn’t the case, and Minho was in Jisung’s position, he would have no trouble mirroring the same feeling of neglect.

“I suppose,” Minho responded. “Did he have anything specific in mind?”

“Not necessarily,” you answered. “Maybe we could do something he likes since he’s waited for so long? Like…tying one of us up.”

Minho nodded, briefly thinking about the times where he had you or Jisung bound and tied in the bedroom.

At that thought, a sick idea pops into his brain.

“I wonder what he’d do if he had to wait a little longer,” Minho started to think out loud.

Your eyes narrowed at him as one of his signature conniving smiles spread across his face, “what do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s been a real tease lately,” Minho began to explain. “And I want to give him a taste of his own medicine while also giving him what he wants.”

At that point, he had put a spin on Jisung’s original suggestion. When he pitched you his full idea, you initially thought it might be slightly…cruel. However, all the times where Jisung had openly teased the both of you within the past couple of weeks seemed to justify what Minho had in store for him.

He preferred to think of it as an enhancement whereas you, on the other hand, just rolled with it.

From then on, the three of you headed into the rest of the week looking forward to that specific night. If you weren’t absorbed in tests, deadlines, and homework, then you were thinking about finally gaining the chance to spend time with the two people you love.

Therefore, Saturday night couldn’t have rolled around any quicker. By the time it did, you and Minho were free from studying and assessments. Both of you were in good spirits, but not any more than Jisung.

That morning, he was handsy. When Minho had woken up to make himself some coffee, Jisung followed him into the kitchen like a puppy and tried to smother him in kisses.

Then, when you were fresh out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around your body, Jisung had to restrain himself from taking you over the counter in the bathroom right there and then. Instead he found his hands gravitating towards your waist, pulling you in just to make out with you.

That alone was tempting enough to risk having another shower and though you’re not one to oppose bathroom sex, it would defeat the purpose of what was about to happen later on in the day.

When the time eventually arrived, Minho had made the minor preparations. He chose the lounge of all places in the shared apartment for this to happen. All he needed to do was move the coffee table away from the couch and replace it with a chair from the dining and kitchen area.

The next step was retrieving black rope that they had stored in a box full of other bedroom related items - items that weren’t going to be of much use to him today. He just wanted to keep it simple.

As Minho laid out the rope over the chair, a confused Jisung walks in with you trailing behind him in his black bathrobe with nothing on underneath.

“Who are these for?” Jisung picks up the lengths of black rope. “And what’s with the chair?”

“They’re both for you,” Minho answers.

Jisung clicks onto the concept, “you wanna tie me to the chair?”

“Only if you want to,” you reassure him.

Jisung had voiced in the past that he’s okay with on the fly, spontaneous bondage. In some way, he gets a kick out of not knowing what’s next until the last second, magnifying the thrill and exhilaration of it. Even so, both you and Minho know that it’s still very important to ask.

“Of course I want to. I’m not even questioning that, it’s just…” he trails off. “I just thought we were all doing it together.”

Not even the softness of his words could throw a determined Minho off his plan. He’s not stepping down from it, especially since Jisung doesn’t suspect a thing.

“Just wait and see,” you reply with a highly ambiguous answer that causes him to smirk.

“I trust you both as always,” he says before his hand gently reaches for your waist, leaning to kiss you. He then turns to Minho, also placing a kiss on his lips before taking a seat on the chair.

“Shirt off, pants stay on,” Minho instructs.

Jisung peers up with confusion even though he’s playing good and doing what he’s told. He does trust what you and Minho have planned, but usually in these circumstances, all items of clothing are removed.

Nonetheless, Jisung is excited and tosses his shirt to the side. He sits patiently, beginning to reel inside with eagerness.

Being a knowledgeable person that he is in the realm of bondage, Minho takes hold of the black rope after manoeuvring Jisung’s arms behind his back. He coils it round and round his wrists, securing it tight with a knot.

He then takes the next few large pieces of rope, creating a fastened ‘X’ shape across his chest. You’re glad to see it exposes both of his pecs when Minho fixes the ends around the chair to stop his upper body from moving.

Minho progresses onto tying another portion of the rope which he winds around and just above the band of Jisung’s jeans. This would stop him from potentially trying to lift his hips to gain any sort of friction whatsoever.

Then he loops and tightens some more rope around his upper thighs which frames Jisung’s groyne where his dick is already beginning to fill out.

Lastly, the piece wouldn’t be complete if he were able to move anywhere below his knees. So, Minho fashioned two final restraints with rope just above his ankles and anchoring it to the two front legs of the chair.

“Too tight?” Minho checks with him, looping his finger through the centre of the ‘X’ across Jisung’s chest to feel the tension. “Can you move around a lot?”

He tests the bindings around his body and shakes his head, “nope.”

“Good,” he responds. “Colour?”

“Green.”

Minho seals his answer with a lengthy kiss on Jisung’s lips before brushing past you with his hand lingering over your stomach. He stands behind you, untying the loose fuzzy belt around your front and peeling the robe off of your shoulders.

Jisung visibly gulps when he sees you naked before him, and not being able to touch you. Minho then drapes the robe over the back of the couch where he goes to take a seat, temporarily leaving the other man in your care.

You lower down onto Jisung’s lap, mouth inches away from his before you close the space between the pair of you. It was a small, sweet kiss at first. His lips are soft as usual, eager too as he inaudibly starts asking for more.

Jisung’s arms jerked so as to try and grab your waist, yet quickly discovered that they weren't going to move. No part of his body was going anywhere anytime soon.

It’s frustratingly arousing being restrained to one spot. He can only sit there and feel you do all the work. Your hands go from tenderly cupping both sides of his face to his neck, down his bound chest, to the sides of his waist, and back up. You want to feel all of his bare body, as much of it as you can.

Beneath you, Jisung’s cock continues to harden as you slowly roll your hips over it. Once he starts moaning into your mouth and getting greedy, that’s when you know he’s in the type of state Minho wanted.

But there was one final task that sprung to mind as you slid off of Jisung’s lap, lowering to the floor on your knees between his legs.

“Yes,” Jisung hisses out as he watches you eagerly, completely oblivious to what’s truly in store for him.

You unbutton and unzip his jeans, freeing his now fully hard dick through his underwear as well. The tip rests on his abdomen, sticky with precum.

Prior to the situation coming to fruition, Minho didn’t think his plan had any faults in it on his behalf. The only thing that stood in the way of being perfectly executed was Jisung’s choice of clothing - that being his jeans.

He would still be able to get friction with small movements if he tries, so Minho wanted to eliminate that right out of the equation.

He could’ve asked Jisung to take them off before they got started. Then again, it would’ve extracted a solid portion of teasing which was more than necessary to include. Plus, he wanted every part - if not most parts of Jisung - to be restricted, except for his dick.

“Fuck,” Jisung’s eyelids snap shut when you take his length in hand, slowly stroking and running your thumb over the head. It takes everything in your power not to suck him dry the instant you see his cock.

You know that he thinks he’s about to receive a blowjob, but with satisfaction riddling your brain, you take your hand away and crawl back to Minho.

Jisung lifts his head and mumbles incoherently, “what…what are you doing? Come back.”

Ignoring him was difficult, like swimming against your tendency to comply with whatever instruction you’re given in the bedroom. Unfortunately for Jisung, his needs were superseded by Minho’s request - what he asked of you prior to this entire scene materialising.

As you're still on your knees now turned to face Minho, he gives a fond smile and leans down, kissing you slowly. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue gliding along your bottom lip which leaves you breathless and hungry for him. It’s a loss when he pulls away, leaning back into the couch as his eyes scan up Jisung bound body and smirks.

He knows for a fact that Jisung is confused, pissed off, and horny, a truly foul mixture of feelings to experience at the same time.

The things he would do if he weren’t tied down to that chair…

His thoughts are derailed when you begin to palm over Minho’s hardened cock through his sweatpants. His hand rests at the side of your face, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheek when you free his dick.

“Fuck,” Jisung grunts, the chair creaks as he tries to move his arms once again. The rope across his chest now making lines of red on his skin, indicating that he’s been trying to use his torso as well.

“Go on baby,” Minho encourages you before you even attempt to look back at Jisung.

Those three words are enough for you to take Minho’s cock in your mouth after giving him a couple of slow strokes. The hot, wet, velvety sensation caging around his length has him leaning back once more.

From this position, he cannot only see your head bobbing up and down, but he can also see Jisung behind you - dumbstruck and rendered speechless.

Even though Jisung doesn’t have a full frontal view of your lips wrapped around Minho’s cock, he has no choice but to picture how obscene your face is.

As his imagination takes shape, his mind starts relocating memories of erotic occurrences where you’ve given him countless blowjobs, recalling how shameless you look. He knows you can get greedy and hot under the collar so to speak when his dick is in your mouth. This time, he can only witness that from a short distance.

“Such a good girl,” Minho purrs in a sultry voice, carding a tender hand through your hair.

Moaning at the praise, you carry on, head bobbing up and down until Minho feels like he’s on the brink of an orgasm. Refusing to let his impulsiveness take over, he gently brings you to a halt, ushering you onto the space beside him on the couch.

You lie down for him. Your knee closest to the back of the couch is propped and bent while your other leg remains resting flat. This was forcibly for Jisung to witness everything Minho was about to do to you.

Eager and impatient, he hooks one hand under and around your bent leg while using the other to gently caress his thumb over your wet entrance. He has you squirming and wriggling at the merest touch of pressure, yet hasn’t even arrived at the main event.

“Remember what I told you,” Minho hints.

Seconds away from being able to recall what he meant, Minho fills you with one finger, slowly sliding into your pussy as he plants distracting kisses down your lower abdomen until he reaches your clit. A moan rips through your chest when he begins to suck, your back arching which lands you closer into his mouth.

It doesn’t take him long to have you panting and whining which is where he feels the urge to add another finger. Using a repetitive curling motion, Minho strokes effortlessly over your g-spot that the continual motion makes your eyes flutter and roll back. Then, even as overwhelmed and worked up as you were, Minho’s reminder floats transiently in your mind…

“I want you to say his name,” Minho asked you beforehand. “I want him to think that he’s the one fucking you when it’s not.”

“That honestly sounds like borderline psychological torture,” you replied sarcastically.

“Good, because that’s what I’m going for,” he joked.

Looking at it now, it might not have been a joke.

As unfocused as your eyes are, they remain solely on Jisung as you try to concentrate on Minho’s mouth and fingers, dragging you over the verge of coming.

“Ji…Jisung,” you call out, almost sounding like a sob. “Wanna come so fucking bad.”

There’s warfare in Jisung’s mind. He knows he’s not physically able to touch you even though every single fibre of his being craves and screams at him for it. He’s forced to envisage himself where Minho is; face buried between your legs, making you whimper and shake around his head.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Jisung whines with a contorted face.

“Please Jisung,” you cry out, trying not to squirm your hips too much so that you can still feel all of Minho’s mouth. “Please, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

As your words reach Minho’s ears, the pace of his fingers steadies to a leisurely drag. Part of you regrets saying it out loud - now wishing you could’ve held off more or came quietly without Minho knowing.

But it would’ve been a terrible feat against the person below you who has an untamed tongue and fingers that make your toes curl.

Both Minho and Jisung know your body like the back of their hand. They would’ve known well and truly if you came without telling them.

After pulling away completely, Minho uses his thumb to swipe at some of the wetness on his chin and sucks it clean off. His eyes track yours to gauge what sort of state you’re in - grinning when he sees your scrunched face, clearly annoyed that he had just robbed you of a mind shattering orgasm.

His gaze then darts over to Jisung who remains painfully hard and completely untouched that Minho now starts to feel a slight pang of sympathy for him.

For a moment, he decides to abandon you on the couch and stands over Jisung.

Minho’s fingers were still glistening wet under the dim lights of the room, hand protracting towards Jisung’s lips who took his digits willingly. He allows Minho to prod softly around his mouth and over his tongue, taking them so obediently.

“Good boy Jisungie,” he praises him. “I knew how bad you wanted to taste her, so I thought I would be nice.”

There’s a long line of spit from Minho’s fingers to the other man’s mouth when decides to retract his hand. Minho then bends down ever so slightly to make Jisung strain and stretch up for a kiss.

He chuckles lightly then pulls away before their lips could even touch, “so needy.”

Jisung groans, throwing his head back out of pure frustration - utterly enraged that tears begin to form in his eyes. As his head tilts back up, they roll down his cheeks, splashing down his abdomen.

Two whole weeks Jisung has been waiting to get laid. He was so good at trying to give you both the space you needed to focus on your studies, and yet, this was this reward - or punishment for lack of a better word.

Despite that, Jisung had been a total tease, and in Minho’s mind, that’s three strikes.

He pets and rubs under Jisung’s chin who in turn looks up with absolute contempt, “Jisungie’s doing so good holding out.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles with watery eyes and an exasperated expression.

“Cute,” Minho replies, a sweet smirk spreading on his face.

He’s going to enjoy every ounce of teasing Jisung.

Minho retreats to the couch where you still remain splayed out, anticipating what’s about to happen next. With the help of his hand, you’re able to sit up and stand before he takes a seat again. Minho then guides you around by your hip so that you’re facing Jisung.

At that point in time, he understood the trajectory of the situation. His dick throbs watching you align Minho’s cock with your entrance, seeing the wince on your face as you stretch over him and gradually sink down.

“Shit,” your fingernails dig into Minho’s taut thighs as he sits up, his cock slipping just that little bit deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he breathes out. Minho missed being inside you so much that he almost forgot what you felt like.

One of his hands rests on your hip while his other arm wraps around your body, snaking up to one of your tits and groping to his content. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, feeling like you’re melting as you adjust to his length.

Nothing feels more satisfying than being filled out by either Minho, or Jisung for that matter. They both feel pleasantly different inside you, consistently hitting spots that will always have you screaming and shaking.

When it feels right, you start rolling your hips little by little until you’ve built up a steady rhythm. Both yours and Minho’s moans begin to fill Jisung’s ears and he has no choice but to listen to it. His stare glues to your body as it rocks over and over again on Minho’s dick.

“Tell Jisungie how you feel,” he squeezes and kneads one of your tits again, forcing another sudden moan from your throat.

Your eyes flutter, barely able to hold eye contact with the man in front of you, “so…so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Minho taunts daringly.

“I wanna come,” you whine, swallowing down a set of profanities before they leave your mouth. “Please.”

“No,” Minho grits flatly. “What happened to everything I told you?

You had to wonder at that point if Minho was punishing you as well or if he was just extremely determined to force Jisung through hell.

He was bound and deprived of touch, whereas you were getting what you wanted, but not the entire package. Then again, you never wanted to abandon the tingly bliss escalating inside you, even if it meant being deprived of multiple orgasms.

“You don’t wanna ruin the fun for him do you?”Minho provokes, his grip tightening on your hip.

You manage to shake your head, “n-no.”

“Good,” he responds. “Let me use you first.”

The effect that those certain words have on you are always a valuable asset to Minho and Jisung. Hearing them makes you feel like nothing but a ‘thing’ for them to fuck, and there’s some odd facet about it that makes it so tantalising.

Now you’re stuck with an insatiable need for them to use your body however they see fit, and the thought of it drives you insane.

As you continued to grit your teeth and hold off for Minho, you realised very quickly that it was taking every ounce of strength not to give in. Hearing his small grunts, heavy breathing, and embracing the way he clutches onto you makes it all the more challenging.

Suddenly, Minho swears against your skin, eyes clamping shut as he comes hard. The warm, almost fuzzy sensation you feel inside when he does now has you slowing down the pace of how you roll your hips over his cock, easing him throughout his orgasm.

“Good girl,” he sighs out contently, trying to steady his breathing. “So good for me.”

At this point, you’re utterly over sensitive after being built up to two orgasms already but forbidden to go over the edge.

Minho places a kiss against your back and taps your thigh for you to hop off him. It takes a moment to reorient yourself, legs jelly-like but you ultimately make your way across to Jisung.

Wearing a face of absolute devastation and pain, he blinks up with damp eyelashes. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life that it has every muscle in his body twinging from trying to twist and turn out of the rope.

“Please,” he begs quietly while his eyes are tracking your hands to see where they’re heading.

Thinking that he’s had enough of the teasing, you waste no time. Straddling over his lap, you adjust his neglected cock so that it slides into you with ease as you fully sit down.

“Fuck!” Jisung curses through gritted teeth.

Meanwhile, from the small distance, Minho smirks to himself when he sees his own cum slowly leak from your insides when you start to lift your hips.

Jisung’s fingernails are digging into the palms of his own hands, the only outlet he has to manage the overbearing pleasure and relief he’s forced to receive. The alleviation induced by how hot you are inside consumes his body. It’s like an itch he had been waiting to scratch.

As you rock down over his dick, it’s hard not to pass up on watching his expressions. How he looks so relieved, in a state of bliss, and spaced out at the same time.

“Yes…” he sighs out, eyes rolling slightly as his head tips back over the chair. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Been waiting too long haven’t you?”

He can only nod and barely speak, but he’s truly thankful on the inside. His moans and mewls are heavenly when your hands smooth over the lines of rope across his chest reminding him that they’re still there.

As gorgeous of a sight Jisung was to admire, you couldn’t ignore the growing ball of pleasure taking shape for the third time so far. This one feels different - stronger, like the force between two giant magnets repelling from each other when trying to connect them.

“I’m gonna come,” you whimper, feeling tears prick your eyes from the amount of pressure intensifying. “Gonna make me come so hard.”

Within a few moments, you’re clinging to him for dear life, rhythmically squeezing around his cock as your thighs tremble. A string of curses leave Jisung’s mouth right up to the point where he’s about to come. After that, he goes quiet with nothing but a silent scream on his face.

His head sways languidly back and forth like a doll each time you rock down on him to ride your orgasm out. It drives him to coat your walls white, his body shuddering in waves when he does.

At any point either of you are rendered voiceless, that’s when Minho knows you’re coming hard. The pleasure is that powerful it makes you incapable of speech or any sort of noise for that matter.

Once you’ve both ridden over the crests of your orgasms, the two of you remain as a conjoined mess, limp and breathless. Your body is slumped over Jisung, still sensitive and stretched over his cock.

Minho promptly rises from the couch to untie all the knots he secured to the chair. The rope loosens around Jisung’s chest, then his waist, thighs, and ankles. All of his energy has been drained as he rests there, completely fucked out.

“Good boy Jisung,” Minho kisses the back of his head and quickly dips out of the lounge, into the bathroom to get the shower running.

Your eyes open ever so slightly, and as soon as you’ve regained a bit of energy, you peel yourself back just a bit to take a look at Jisung. Minus the fact that there’s a faint smile on his face and his pupils are blown out, he was in total bliss.

“Jisung,” you whisper softly, squishing his cheeks together to see if it gets him to focus.

He bats his eyes a couple of times, “hmm?”

“Feel better?” You ask him.

Jisung’s hands smooth over your hips then behind to the small of your back. His fingertips slowly trail up and down your spine while he buries his face into the crook of your neck, resting there.

“So much better,” he mutters, warm breath fanning over your skin.

“Let’s hop in the shower,” Minho appears again, offering his hand out to you to help you up off Jisung.

You inhale sharply from the overwhelming sensitivity of having to move yourself off of Jisung’s dick. Once your two feet are on the ground and you have some balance back, Minho helps Jisung with his other hand.

“Had I known that you two were conspiring against me, I wouldn’t have worn jeans,” Jisung says to the ceiling when the three of you are in the shower.

His arms were crossed over his tender chest and head tilted back while Minho was shampooing his hair.

“We weren’t conspiring,” Minho retorts. “Call it a reward.”

Jisung scoffs, “reward my ass. Who’s idea was it anyway?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Minho almost laughs. “You got what you wanted didn’t you?”

“Uh, it does matter,” Jisung corrects him. “Because the next time we do anything like this, it should be that person's turn.”

“Guess it’s Minho then,” you say.

“Fine by me,” he shrugs.

Note: I strictly do not permit any copying, editing, rewriting or remakes of my work nor do I allow them to be uploaded to any other site or social media platform. Tumblr is the only site I will be using to post this type of content so if you see it elsewhere, then it has been stolen.

#skz smut #Lee know smut #Han Jisung smut #stray kids smut #minsung x reader #stray kids imagines

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pickles-24 · 1 month

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All Eyes on You (Felix)

2- Who are you?

Author's note: This is my first fic In a while please be patient. ( Daisy Lyn is the Musian name - this is not real-)

PAIRING: College Felix!! x Musician fem reader!!

GENRES: social media au, smut, fluff, angst, mystery, drama, enemies to lovers, college au, celebrity au, non-idol au

WARNINGS: cursing, slow-burn, alcohol/drug consumption, addiction, sexual jokes/ sexual content, toxic relationships, mental health disorders, trauma, mentions of abuse, offense jokes (NOT RACIST NOR ANYTHING LIKE THAT), Felix and MC have a small age gap (He's older by 2 1/2 years) THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY LINKED TO THE REAL DEALS!

SUMMARY: You're an up-and-coming musician with a decent platform. You and a Friend of Felix's get close eventually leading you to meet Him. Liking each other at first, wasn't in the cards due to several misunderstandings. Throughout the year You start gaining attention from more than just your fans. All eyes are on you.

"I.N?" You ask confused about how Jeongin turned to I.N. He nodded," Yeah, The last two letters of my first name." I.N made more sense now that he'd explained it. "That's a good nickname not gonna lie." You said as you looked at your phone. The time read 9:25, five more minutes until the orientation started. "So Y/N what's your major?" You turn back to him as you answer his question, "I'm majoring in music, but minoring in business."

"Oh that's cool, I'm actually also minoring in business, I'm majoring in Econ. "I.N. commented as he showed you his classes for the semester. He shared five classes with you. You were so relieved, "We share five classes." You said showing him your courses for the first semester. "Oh thank god, my friends and I have different majors and I was so worried," I.N. said giving you a smile. "Can we exchange numbers since we'll be seeing each other every day? If you're ok with it."

You nodded as you handed him your phone and vice versa. The audio crackled as the mic turned on. The orientation was about to start.

You look at your friends who aren’t paying any attention to the orientation and are on their phones. You were at least half listening to what was being said. You sent them a quick text to see if they were on board with the plans.

Time passed and eventually, after what seemed to be forever the orientation ended, "See y'all in a bit." I.N. waved as he left the auditorium where the orientation had just taken place. Shortly after You followed as you made your way back to the car with Soojin and Minnie. "I wanna join a sorority," Soojin said as this time she hoped in the front and Minnie took her place in the back. You gave her a strange look," And why exactly would you want to do that?"

You turned on the car and connected your phone to play some music. Minnie also confused as to why Soojin wanted to join a sorority turned to her, "Do you even know what that is?" Soojin shook her head and answered her girlfriend, "No but I do know that If I take one for the team and join we are partying always." She by Harry styles played in the background as you sigh.

Soojin wasn't necessarily a party girl or at least she wasn't like that in high school. You hoped that with her wanting to join one of the school's sororities she wouldn't regret it. As you turned to exit the campus parking lot a car came speeding by and almost caused an accident. You honked at it and the person driving flipped you off. "What a fucking cunt." You swore taking a deep breath and making your way down to the arcade.

Upon arrival, you notice the same car parked horribly, you roll your eyes as you try to find another parking spot. "You guys can go in and tell I.N I'll be right there." Your friends nod as you drop them off and look for another parking spot that wasn't right next to the ass hat that took 2 parking spots. About a minute later you found one and parked. You made your way into the arcade where spotted I.N., your friends, and some other people.

"Hey," You say approaching him, "Sorry the asshole in the blue Camero took 2 spots." You said not knowing that the owner of the car was behind you. " And who are you?" The voice said not sounding very pleased he was called an asshole. You turned around and said, "I'm Y/N, who are you?" He scoffed taking his car keys out, "I'm Felix, The asshole in the blue Camero"

taglist: @seungseung-minmin

#stray kids #k pop #music #skz #skz stay #lee felix #lee yongbok #felix x reader #skz felix #stray kids fanfic #kpop #college au #enemies to lovers #skz imagines #skz x reader #kpop bg

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gemini-sensei · 11 months

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With the GirlCock!Tory and LaRusso!Reader, what if after a few months of them graduating and the two are still dating and messing around, Reader actually gets pregnant? And the family finds out?

Girlcock!Tory x Chubby!LaRusso!Reader

Part One | Part Two ○ Fem!Reader

CW: slight smut, blowjobs, secret relationships, pregnancy and symptoms, nondescript but mentioned vomiting, pet name: babe, breeding kink, a tad bit unhinged. A/N: in this, Reader goes to college, just fyi. Also, Sam and Reader attend different colleges, bare with me on that one lol. (unedited)

I've been putting this off for no good reason

○ After graduation, Reader and Tory keeps their relationship a secret. There's barely any conversation about whether they will tell Reader's family, just going with the motions of transitioning out of high school and into the real world. Tory has no issue with it, used to the hard work that goes into busy workdays and long hours. Reader has it cushy and relaxed at home with her parents and siblings, but Tory finds herself never wanting Reader to lift a finger.

○ Their little relationship is a lot of Reader coming up to Tory's job just to see her. She left the house telling her parents that she was going to see some friends, have an adventure before college starts in autumn, but really she's sneaking away to go see Tory, who flirts with her relentlessly the whole time she's there. At first, she wanted to act like Reader was too much of a distraction and be mad about it, but couldn't hold up that front for long.

○ When she goes on break, she and Reader sneak off to Reader's car to have a quickie. Sometimes it's just a bj that has Tory rolling her eyes into the back of her head. Those are the times she really shoves Reader's head down on her cock and makes her gag on it as she comes down her throat. Other times, they have a quick fuck in the backseat where Reader has to ride her because if they get caught, Tory could get fired. The thrill adds to Tory's high in all honesty.

○ As summer goes on, Reader finds herself at Tory's place a lot more. If she stayed the night, she hangs out while Tory gets ready in the morning or she'll wake up a little earlier and make breakfast for her. Days off, they spend the whole day together - either staying in bed or watching TV.

○ At night, Tory loves having Reader in her bed. She secretly loves the cuddles Reader gives, holding her curvy body close. There's no way she'll ever actually admit to it, but it's her favorite part of the day.

○ When it comes time to go to college, Reader moves out of her parents' house and into a little apartment not far from school. It isn't too long of a drive from the Valley to the school, but her parents didn't want her to "waste time driving." They pay for the place so she can focus on school, and that's fine, but she's lonely. The first weekend, she invites Tory over to "help her unpack" but all they end up doing is packing Reader full of cum.

○ Tory loves driving down to see Reader because it's way more private for them. They don't have to worry about getting caught or someone from her family interrupting them. Sure, the thrill of sneaking around was fun, but as their relationship continues, Tory finds herself not wanting to hide anymore. She just wants to be with Reader.

○ A few weeks into the first semester, Reader starts feeling under the weather. She gets up and goes to class, but by the end of the day she's unbearably tired. Then she starts getting dizzy spells and nausea. She made the mistake of complaining about it to Sam because her sister drove all the way from her college to Reader's. Reader has to tell Tory not to come see her even though the only person she wants to see at that time is Tory.

○ Sam comes to take care of her sister, but as soon as she finds Reader dry heaving over the toilet, she hates where this looks like it's going. She eases into the idea; she asks if Reader's been to any parties and if she's met anybody and Reader tells her no and of course not. Answers like that make Sam confused and suspicious. However, she doesn't accuse her of lying and just suggests that she take a pregnancy test.

○ She holds Reader as they wait for the test to come back and when they see that it's positive, Sam has to ask her why she's lying about seeing someone. Reader doesn't want to answer, but that just makes her sister even more worried.

"If you just hooked up with someone, that's okay," she tells Reader, holding her worried and sweet sister. She tries to keep her calm, but in reality, Sam is the one close to freaking out. "You just have to tell me what happened." "No offense, Sam, but it's none of your business right now," Reader tells her, wanting nothing more than Tory there with her in this moment.

○ They spend the weekend finding a good doctor nearby and Monday confirming the pregnancy at a little doctor's office. Sam assures Reader the entire time that she has options, but Reader isn't listening. She's just going over what she's going to tell her girlfriend - hardworking, unstoppable Tory. Sure, Tory's breeding kink is prevalent in their sex lives, but is it just a kink? She knows they'd have to talk about it, but Sam will have to be gone before that can happen.

○ Before Sam finally leaves, Reader makes her swear not to tell their parents and Sam tells her that she won't. Then, like the wind, she's gone and Reader can only hope Sam keeps her mouth shut.

○ She's not that shy little girl she once was. She's a full fledged college student now, so she didn't need her sister or parents nosing around in her personal life all the time. However, she doesn't know what to do. She's supposed to be focused on school, not having a baby. On top of that, though she is an adult, she's still young and worried about what her parents are going to think. It's a lot of complex layers that amount to a lot of weight on her shoulders.

○ The next weekend Tory comes to see her, she sits her down immediately because she's too nervous to even try to act like nothing's up. She keeps it simple and short:

"I'm pregnant," Reader says. She started off by looking at Tory, but quickly looks down at her lap and pulls out the pregnancy test. She hands it over before Tory can get a word out and doesn't say anything else. Tory takes the test and looks at it, kind of stunned. However, that is quickly overpowered by the immense sense of pride she feels over it. Her breeding kink is blazing and everything is just telling her how great this is. So she puts the test aside and lifts Reader's head to make her look up at her. "Babe... this is all I've ever wanted with you," she tells her. Reader gets a little flushed, feeling like they're in high school again when Tory would go out of her way to make her feel so flustered. However, she bounces back with, "Well, actually, this all started with you wanting to make my life Hell." It makes Tory laugh and hug her close, squeeze her tight to her chest and give her a quick peck. "Yeah, yeah, hold that over my head, why don't you?"

○ Following such a conversation, Reader and Tory had celebratory sex. Instead of the hard and rough sex they usually have though, Tory took things slow and gentle with Reader. Worshipped her body and made her feel good, but that didn't mean her breeding kink didn't still shine through... "Just have to make sure you're really pregnant." "What's one more?" "Trust me, babe, this isn't the gonna be the last time I breed this tight, fat cunt of yours.

○ As time goes on, they decide to tell her parents of course. They can't hide a pregnancy and a baby from them, plus Sam already knows. She just doesn't know that it's Tory that Reader has been seeing. It's a lot to tell them, so they put it off a while.

○ Come winter break, Reader can't get out of going back to the Valley like she did for fall break. So she packs a bag with her maternity clothes, tosses toiletries and her prenatal meds in while she holds her little bump, and ensures she packs an extra pair of comfy shoes. Tory comes to drive her, puts her bag in the car and holds her hand the entire way there.

○ When they pull up to the LaRusso house, everyone sees the car but is too busy to notice that it isn't Reader's car. Sam comes to the door to greet her sister, intercepting since she's the only one who know's Reader is pregnant, but before she can greet her she's shocked by Tory's presence.

"Reader, what is she doing here?" Sam asks, as if Tory isn't standing right there. Reader gives a little smile and holds up her and Tory's joined hands. "She's my girlfriend, Sam... and the mother of my child." Sam is frozen in the doorway, to the point Amanda has to come out see what's going on. "Sam, is everything okay?" she asks, but is quickly made speechless what she sees her other daughter at the door with Sam's rival and a hand on her belly. All she can let out is an, "Oh my."

○ Amanda regains her self faster than Sam and invites the couple in, telling Reader that they can go get settled upstairs. They scurry off, Tory trying not to laugh as they escape to Reader's old room before her father can see them. Tory drops Reader's bag and they sit on the bed. Tory has to pepper Reader's face with kisses to calm her nerves, rubbing her belly soon after. She knows Reader has been worries about what her family will think.

○ There's a knock at the door and Anthony pokes his head on. When he sees them fussing over Reader's belly, he says, "Damn, I thought Sam would be the one knocked up in college."

"Anthony!" Reader seethes, embarrassed by his words. Tory just laughs at him. "What are you doing here?" "I live here. Plus, I heard mom and Sam whispering to each other and had to come see if what they were talking about was true." Anthony walks in like he owns the place, shutting the door for some privacy at least. It still makes Reader roll her eyes because he's still the same as ever. He looks between them and asks, "So did you two have a threesome or something?" Tory doesn't shy away from giving him the answer. "No, I fucked your sister with my big dick." "Ha ha," he lets out humorlessly, but when he sees the cocky look on Tory's face, he deadpans. "Wait, you have a dick?"

○ When it's time to walk downstairs, Tory holds Reader's hand the whole time. They first go to Amanda and Sam, explaining some of their relationship and how Reader got that pretty little bump. They don't give them all the details of course, glossing over the parts where Tory used to bully Reader. Sam hasn't forgotten those days and wants to say something about it, but their mom stops her from bringing it up.

○ Then Daniel walks in and he greets Tory, trying not to be so put off by her presence. He got some of the details from his wife, so he's just trying to act civil since Sam is spiraling. However, all that goes out the window when he hugs Reader and feels the new bump protruding from her abdomen. He pulls away, holding her shoulders, and looks at her with a "please tell me that's not what I think it is" look and she just smiles at him.

"Surprise," she says, a little weary.

○ Daniel almost faints, but manages to stay upright as he starts barreling questions at his daughter and her girlfriend. It's a little overwhelming, but when he asks "how did this even happen?" Anthony walks by and nonchalantly says, "Tory's cock, obviously."

○ Meltdown mode activated. Not because Tory has a cock, but because Daniel never needed to know that. Daniel would have lived blissfully if he never knew his daughter was having sex with anyone. Amanda has to walk him out of the room and tell him to calm down because he's only going to stress out their pregnant daughter.

○ While they're out of the room, Reader gets held by Tory, who tells her that went a lot better than she expected. She kisses Reader's head and keeps her nerves at bay, ignoring everyone else in the room. Sam bares witness to the seemingly 180 shift that's been made, seeing Tory be so gentle with her sister as opposed to the rough and mean treatment that occurred before. She's suddenly not so opposed to the idea of Tory and her sister after all.

○ But neither Reader or Tory care what's going on around them. They have each other and that's enough for them. Tory's taken care of herself more often than not and the last few months, she's been taking care of Reader and their growing little one in her belly, so she's not worried about getting support from anywhere else.

○ However, it's a warm welcome when Reader's parents come back in to tell them that they're happy for them. They still need to get used to the fact that their daughter is even dating anyone, let alone pregnant. But after most of the shock wears off, they know they're getting a two new additions to their family and that's something worth celebrating for the holidays.

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vashtijoy · 1 year

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Loved your analysis posts on Akechi and the PT. Imo I feel like people greatly overblow Akechi's third semester personality. I constantly see him written as being really aggressive to the PT and he IS but also not really? He's cold and pragmatic in order to get the job done, he's not interested in starting catfights with them.

His interactions with Sumire in particular showcase this really well. Akechi's not offering her a shoulder to cry on but he does give her a hand when he feels she's about to compromise the mission.

He insults Maruki to hell and back but it's not like his "true self" has no filter when it comes to interacting with allies.

Thank you! And yeah, I agree. Third semester Akechi is pretty much collected, focused on business, matter-of-fact. Cold and distant as fuck. Cynical, of course. He interjects snide comments and personal attacks into what he says, but he doesn't do it constantly; he'll say exactly what he thinks, unless he has a reason not to. Irritate him even a little, and you'll know all about it. And despite "I'm always calm" being such a meme, he does seem very calm—but I think it is explicitly an outward calm. It's the sort of calm that makes someone seem deadly.

I wonder how well he compartmentalises in that month. He's always shoved everything he doesn't want to face into a box. Is he still doing that? Or is it breaking down? The "dead man walking" thing must colour everything he thinks, for instance—he's prepared to face his death rather than live under Maruki, but that doesn't mean he actually wants to die. There are a couple of moments where he's like... I have a philosophical objection to this, or hey, check out this cool thing. And then he just... stops. What's the point? Who cares? Why bother? He almost seems kind of depressed.

Plus, as far as his ~redemption~ and ~second chances~ go—he's not going to mend any bridges in a month. He doesn't have to come to terms with a damn thing. He can just shove anything that's going on with him down into its box where it belongs. All he has to do is focus on getting his mission over the line. For one month. And you can speculate about how successful he ultimately is.

He still introspects, like in the Jazz Jin conversations. He shows concern for Joker and Sumi. And why does he care about Sumi? Don't forget that at first, in his navi phase, he thinks she's the Palace ruler; he's watching her. But later, I think Sumi makes him think about his own situation, maybe, with the way she overcomes her false self and commits to her true self. And he does like people who make him think.

And what's even left, when all the false, simpering shit is removed? Some of it's the void: the emotional emptiness and the pure determination that got him into such a fucking mess to begin with. That's really him. The impatience with idiots and the sharp tongue is him for sure—he wants to fucking talk, finally, to say at least some of what he really thinks. He's doing the same thing in the confidant: he puts something out there, and sees if he gets pushed back. What will it take, to make them cast him out? How much of him will be "too much"?

So there's also that impulse to keep everyone away, which contradicts the definitely-real Akechi we saw at the end of the engine room, with all his masks gone: "none of that happened, that's not me, if you think it was, I'll make you wish you didn't". It will take much longer to face that than he has. And it would be dangerous to the mission to do it. So why bother?

Some of it's Cognitive Akechi, I think, who showed up unstoppable and deadly at Akechi's lowest point. Don't forget how closely the Akechi fight parallels the Okumura fight, with the beatdown by the Phantom Thieves leading to an execution by an Akechi. I don't know if third semester Akechi consciously mimics Cogkechi, but it seems likely that he is influenced by him; that that image of Shido's reinforces what Akechi would view as his strongest points.

As for losing his shit in combat? Yeah, that's a deliberate choice too, and something he has full control over, other than in the showdown where he uses Call of Chaos. Just like Joker, he puts a mask on to unmask a difficult aspect of himself, one that has no place in society.

I think there's at least a bit of the gutter-rat kid he was showing, when he fights. Every time his voice breaks down (and I work from the Japanese audio because I'm a nerd and a weeb) I wonder... okay, this is a textbook anime breakdown into the villain voice, but is there a class differential here? Maybe it's a British thing but I'm weak for Akechi losing his polished accent under stress, fight me.

So yeah—you want him to be ashamed and cower in the corner? Like he has to earn the right to be there? No, he's not going to do that. He fights the way he wants, the way he enjoys and needs to fight—while still remaining within the confines of the team. And it is only in combat that he's like that; he even keeps his usual surface calm when they're walking around in the Palace and in the cutscenes. I don't think it's surprising Maruki makes him lose his shit; Maruki is trying to manipulate him. And that's a trigger for Akechi, make no mistake.

That moment he unchains himself in the engine room stays with him forever, I think:

HELLO, CREEPY BOY but watch his face: he smiles. He sees something. He understands something. And he doesn't forget it.

#asks #persona 5 #goro akechi #thanks for this anon!#my head is full of cotton wool today and this was nice to think about #i think this is a bit disorganised but i'm going to stop writing now lol #p5 meta

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elvisabutler · 1 year

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i've had no love like your love

summary: both you and professor presley would like to forget about the incident between you two and you do while still occasionally falling into each other's arms when spending time with one another. the two of you finally reach a breaking point. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader word count: 9487. i got a little carried away. warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. implied praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone are of legal age ). religious talk. elvis being ill enough to miss class. unrequited love that would be requited if people just opened up their mouths. oral ( f receiving ). use of psalms in inappropriate ways. bunch of tears. mention of physical abuse/hitting/being kicked out of houses. use of the nickname belle for the reader. use of the derogatory name jezebel. mentions and beginning of impersonal sex like in my hearts already sinned. thigh riding. author's note: so i'll warn you ahead of time you've got to get through a lot of words of sadness to get to their happiness in this but it's worth it. i'm honestly super glad this got the reception it did since when i posted the little teaser/trailer as my last kinktober piece i thought this was hella niche and didn't think anyone would like it since it's big daddy elvis and it's a professor au. but y'all have seemed to absolutely adore it and it makes me happy. this is not the end of them since i've got an epilogue ( purely happy, i promise ) and honestly, if anyone ever wants me to write more of them ( case in point, the ask i got about a movie night with him and belle ) or i have an urge to i probably will. and y'all know the drill, pick your elvis poison, this is written with real elvis in mind but you can imagine austin elvis. and previous parts are here to be read in order: 1 and 2.

There's one thought- or a series of thoughts- his mind keeps cycling back to, that keeps rolling over and over in his head as he looks at the door you just left out of. Gossip isn't something he normally cares about but when he heard your name, he couldn't help but listen in properly because when it came to you he couldn't help it, he never has been able to help it.

"She's going for Presley? That religious- he won't give her the time of day like that. She's too impure for him."

"I've heard that's why she wants him because come on man, you know he never has gone for a student. Why not have the Tour Guide show him what he's been missing? Besides she's already spending all that time in his office and wearing his jacket half the time. Bet she's gonna fuck him before Thanksgiving break. Then she'll be free."

"Two in one semester-" The calculus professor whistles. "Next semester she'll be begging for an orgy at this rate."

He's not dumb, contrary to what his teachers back in the day might have thought. No, he's not dumb but sometimes he prefers to see the best in people, sees the parts that other people might overlook. Maybe it's just from his upbringing or maybe it's from how he was treated in the music industry but he likes to think himself a good judge of the character people might otherwise keep hidden. And with you he had thought- he had thought there was something there. Something you had hidden away amongst your conquests as ill advised as they might have been. You were- you felt like the sort of person who could be taken care of while still taking care of him. You felt like coming home or like God himself had dropped an angel in his lap. The idea that he was just another man- another professor in your long line of them stung. He knows he's not a great catch any more, that he's not nearly as pretty as he was even two years ago, let alone when he used to perform on stage or was in the movie picture business but you didn't seem to mind. You seemed to enjoy him, unless he had read everything wrong, had read your lingering glances wrong. Unless he had read your reactions to his very presence wrong or how you would smile just so in a way he recognizes from some women.

If he hadn't have read this situation wrong and you had actually enjoyed his company and cared about him at least in some small part the way he cared about you, why had you answered yes to his test. Why in God's green Earth had you told him that you just wanted him to be another professor you fucked? The answer should have been that you wanted to fuck him as a person and not just- him because he was your professor. You didn't need to charm him like this- to worm your way so comfortably into his heart in a way Priscilla had and how Linda had as short as their relationship was. It's- you didn't need to play with him like this- you didn't need to be cruel.

Maybe the best thing for both of you would be to pretend none of this happened. Pretend that everything was normal and that he hadn't seen how your pussy looked in underwear that was barely there. Pretend he hadn't seen you arch your back for him. Just pretend he hadn't had you against the desk in a way that was so far from how he planned. That's- that should be what he does. You were still perhaps that good girl, that wonderful woman he thought you were, you just needed to be reminded of it continuously. Maybe he just wants to be selfish and have you in his life in whatever way he can. God, he was getting to be stupid and silly as he got older, wasn't he?

Love makes you do stupid things, you've realized this more than anything with El- Professor Presley. With other men, with other professors your brain and your heart seemed to actually be in line with one another, seemed to remember that these were flings and while their outcomes led so much to be desired you could file them away as business transactions. Business transactions that allowed you to avoid worrying about your grades if you were sick or if you had too much going on at one time. You figure it's your own fault for taking the challenge Noelle had offered you. Figure that you brought this on yourself despite knowing that you had seen the man for years now from afar and thought that he was the most attractive man you've ever laid eyes on. Thought his waistline- much as it occasionally fluctuated was perfect at damn near any size but you had a special place in your heart for his size now. You should have known your heart would believe one thing- would feel one thing while your brain would try and remind you that this- this couldn't ever be more than whatever it was. You hadn't even needed to do it, hadn't needed to take the chance on sleeping with him because you were fine when it came to his class, never missing a class or a discussion or anything that had him lowering your grades. Yet, you had to be selfish, had to ruin the relationship- the friendship you and him had with each other. You had to ruin him as a person, didn't you?

The man who had sex with you against his desk that day wasn't Elvis Presley, Professor Presley, whatever you wanted to call him. He wasn't the person you had fallen so deeply in love with that your heart ached and twisted and threatened to fall right out of your chest at the mere idea of losing him for good. He was something- someone else entirely, someone who you didn't recognize in the slightest but maybe that's who he always had been, maybe that was the man you had fallen completely in love with over the semester. Your brain hadn't bothered to entertain the idea of a life beyond this semester but you think- no, you know- that your heart had other plans. Your heart dreamed of a life with you at his side at Graceland during the summer and on the breaks at night. It dreamed of a life with you in his lap and his head in yours. You just dreamed of a life with him come whatever may be.

That dream is still in your heart as much as your brain knows it's stupid and silly and a forgone conclusion at this point. Yet, you can't stop yourself from still wanting it from pining for the mere idea of it. You can't stop yourself from taking his jacket you still have and wrapping yourself in it after you come home from that day- that absolute mess of an emotional day because that mere idea of a life with him. A life where he comforts you and wraps his arms around you when you find that life is too much or when he finds that life is too much.

Maybe that's why you don't back away, maybe that's why you let yourself continue on debasing yourself in a way that you're practically mortified to realize. Or maybe it's because after that day things go back to normal. He acts like the man you fell for, acts like the man you could see some form of a future with and could dream of living the rest of his days with. Still, you choose to believe that it's worth it, that this is all you're ever going to have of Elvis. God you wish your brain could just call him Professor Presley or Mr. Presley but when you're in his office talking about what had happened in class or the lesson plans he had for the next one he always insists on you calling him Elvis and it feels so natural rolling off your tongue. It feels like it's meant to leave your mouth in sighs as he brings you pleasure and with fondness that you can only have with someone you love to the ends of the Earth.

You should have known better, you should have known better because you might be strong, you might be the sort of person who can hold herself up with or without praise that Elvis sprinkles into your life. You're the sort of person who shouldn't do this, who wouldn't do this for anyone else if it wasn't him. You should break it off, should give yourself a clean break but he's always there and he's right there saying the words you want to hear. He's there acting like he's supposed to and you find you can't even grieve for the loss of him because he's not gone, is he? No, he's right there in front of you, almost mocking you in his actions and how they conflict when you're up against his desk, his cock sliding in and out of you with such obscene squelching and squishing because he knows how to touch you in just the right way that has you groaning against the coolness of the desk. He knows how to touch you in just the right way that has you so aroused you make a mess of whatever you touch. The times you're just on his thigh because he can't get it up- not for lack of want, but because of his body betraying him like everything else seems to- those times always end in him with a suspicious wet spot that makes him glad he's got on black pants to hide the stain you've put there from riding him.

Things feel so impersonal, such a stark contrast to the actions of both of you around the times you do these things. You're adults and yet the concept of talking about what happens- talking about how you two fall into some natural rhythm of companionship only to have it stripped away the moment one of you climbs on top of the other or the moment he pats his thigh for you to straddle- is so alien to either one of you. When you've fooled around with the other professors even when it came to the worst exits you were still able to look at them, still have that element of attachment when you would be with them up until the point where you were kicked out and where you were slapped and yelled at and chased out windows that had you breaking your ankle. With Elvis it should be the same, you want it to be the same because maybe if it was you could- it would be easier for the two of you to talk. It would be easier to not feel like this is a business transaction and that as much as he'll be the man you started to love before and after it, he won't be that man during the act. You'd say you felt used but how can you be used if you're also using him. It's silly and embarrassing and it wears you down after each time even though you always crave it just a little bit because it's all you feel like you can get of him like that. You want more than his companionship, his praise and his subtle touches on your shoulder and his laughter. You want every single bit of him you can have. You're grasping at whatever you feel you can get and you don't realize he's doing much the same thing.

It has to be impersonal because if he looks at you he doesn't trust himself to not fall to your knees and worship you like the angel sent from on high he believes you to be. He calls you Jezebel because that reminds him how you wrenched his heart from his chest and twisted it in your hands. Staying away from you isn't an option because outside of when you two fall into each other's arms you feel like his- feel like third time is truly the charm on women he adores to the ends of the Earth and that you could be the one he spends the rest of his life with- however long that may be.

However long that may be is always on his mind the more his stomach gives him issues or his body feels like it's breaking down more and more. Should try and get everything in check, try and cut out some things maybe but he's never been the most disciplined in anything that isn't religion and even then he knows he falls off that wagon on occasion. He has to miss two more classes and on one of the nights he can't sleep, his stomach contorting in on itself and his bones feeling an ache he can't shake he wishes you were there. Your presence that one night, curled up against him after he had woken up and found you on the couch only to carry you to his bed had been some of the best sleep he'd had in such a long time. You might not have healed all his ills but you served to be a balm he couldn't help but crave on this night.

The thing about him missing is that he can't know- he doesn't know that you notice the second it's Joe up at the front of your class again and you swear you want to throw up. Your stomach drops so far out of your body that it might as well be in the core of the Earth. Elvis wasn't here again which meant something- some part of his body was acting up again. Maybe you shouldn't have been on his thigh after the last class, maybe you should have just let it be one of those times when you just talked and relaxed with one another and not let it turn sexual. No- No, it would have happened regardless, after all, the last time he had missed you and him hadn't even done anything other than talk. That was before- you wouldn't dwell on it, if this was anything like the last time he'd be back come next class a little more worn down and needing perhaps more company and a bit of help but he would be fine. He's always been so larger than life and so strong that there was nothing to worry about.

Except- he doesn't come back after that first class and he misses another one and you had been lulled into a false sense of security thinking he was alright when no one including Joe was there early. No, instead you had Jerry coming in almost five minutes late telling everyone that class was canceled since anyone who would take over for EP was a little occupied and as nice as he's heard everyone was- he's a business professor- an economics one- not a religious studies kind of guy. You don't expect people to be loitering outside of the class, figuring that much like any college students they'd be rushing to the library to study or to their dorms or apartments to sleep. You wish people had done that, wished the two people you come upon would have done that.

"He's gonna be dead in a year if that, man." The student- James you think- says, rolling his eyes. "My brother had him last year and he missed one class, we're on what, our third?"

"Third and the Tour Guide wearing his jacket. Maybe that's why- she's drained him." The other laughs quietly.

"She hasn't worn it since the middle of October, no, she's already moved on. Wouldn't be surprised if he passed her along to his little Mafia." James pauses. "Whatever the case- he's dead next year. If he even gets through the semester. Sucks, man, he wasn't the worst professor."

There's a part of you that wants to hear what they have to say, hear how they want to blame you for Professor- Elvis not being here but you can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears and feel your eyes welling up with tears you can't- you refuse- to shed in front of people and find yourself pushing past them, your boots thumping on floor as both of them laugh just a little realizing you had been listening to them the whole time.

They had to be wrong, they had to be wrong because as sick as maybe Elvis was he wasn't- he couldn't be that sick. No, they were just- joking around, they had to have been. Maybe they knew you were there the whole time and just said it to mock you, after all, you know it's truly no secret that you are his favorite student and were even before- the incident. If they were right though, that meant-that meant after this semester he was gone. You'd never hear a story about how stupid some of your classmates were or about hear him sing like he had that one night again. You'd never share another set of snacks and a drink with him. He'd be gone and you'd be- He'd be gone and the world would feel a little bit dimmer.

The idea of a world without Professor Presley, a world without Elvis swirls in your mind that weekend as you force yourself to do your schoolwork. Ignoring it would be so easy and you could just curl up with his jacket and with your favorite book or in front of the little television and just pretend you hadn't heard any of that. Any time you think of doing that, though, you hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like his with a little backing of a voice that sounds like yours in your mind reminding you that you should do your work. So you do and you eat and you do everything you're supposed to that weekend as you try to avoid thinking of what the other students had said. It's hard but you manage well enough. Monday comes sooner than you'd like and you find yourself dreading entering Elvis's- Professor Presley's class. You sit down in your normal spot though, your eyes shut as you try to relax and burrow yourself into his jacket as you do.

His cane taps against the floor and a breath you hadn't realized that you were holding comes out of your mouth in a rush. He's here, he's alive and he's going to be teaching class today. You bite your lower lip as you hear the taps stop right behind you and feel Elvis's hand grasp your shoulder, just as warm as it always is. You hear his voice rumbling, even with so much exhaustion coloring the tone about how he's glad to see you where you’re supposed to be and you look up at him to see something in his eyes, something that feels like a spark of the man you've fallen for completely this semester. Maybe- no, you don't dare hope fully.

Class feels like a blur and while there is a debate as per his usual it's much more subdued with you barely offering input and him still feeling a little too rough to really force some excitement into it. A part of you wants to just head straight to your other class and not entertain the idea of going to Elvis's office but as you start to leave you hear the tap of his cane following you and hear his voice.

"Y/N." He starts, his eyes roaming your top half and settling on his jacket. "Gonna see ya in five minutes?"

The word no is on the tip of your tongue, you should say no but you've been so worried about him that you nod slowly, adjusting the straps on your bag and it earns a small smile from him as he walks off slower than normal but still seeming just as strong as normal with the tap of the cane. It takes you a little longer than five minutes to reach him, almost as if you're too nervous to really go to his office but when you get there the door is wide open and you see two drinks on the desk and you settle yourself onto the couch.

Talking- even with everything- comes so naturally to the two of you that you hardly realize how you both shift closer to the other as you talk. You hardly realize how you're close enough that you can feel his body heat against your side and that he feels the same thing. This is how it always seems to start since the Incident, with you two moving closer and closer until you're in his lap and today is no exception. Except, maybe it is because you're wearing his jacket and you saw a glimmer of something in his eyes that tell you maybe there's something there. That maybe the person you want to spend all your time with is still there underneath everything. You don't know when you decide to hook your leg over his thigh, thanking every god you know that he has a tendency to spread his legs even if there's no reason to and you hike up your skirt just a hair as you start to grind against his thigh, facing him as you do. Your hands move to try and cup his face, try and pull him closer to you before you feel his hands on your hips manhandling you to face that opposite way.

No. This- no, this isn't- you want him but not like this any more. God you can't- why was it so hard for him to let you just look at him when you do things like this. He was gone for two classes and you were so worried but he won't look at you. You're wearing his jacket and he noticed and he won't let you look at him. Your body can't help itself, still grinding a bit as you try and maneuver yourself back to facing him only to be stopped time and time again by his grip. It's not punishing and it's not going to bruise- you hope- but he won't let you turn. He won't let you turn and his mouth starts to spew words that make you want to curl up in on yourself.

His mouth hisses into your ear. "The Jezebel doesn't want it this way? Doesn't want my thigh today? Too good for me?"

You snarl, tears starting to form in your eyes out of sheer frustration and anguish rolled into one. "I never- I'm not saying that, I just- Elvis, please, let me look at you." Your body starts to contort in positions you didn't think were possible as you continue to try and face him only to be brushed aside.

Words are leaving his mouth, you hear them faintly but you finally just launch yourself off his thigh, chest heaving and eyes fiery as can be. Your legs shake at the sudden loss of his thigh that had supported you up until now but you stand your ground as best as you can. "No, I'm not- We're not doing this, not like this, I- What have I even done to deserve this? This- God, I don't even know what to call it. This joke? This playing with me like this?"

"Playing with ya like this?" He barks, heaving his body off of the couch and moving to stand in front of you, his blue eyes stormy as anything you've ever seen in your life. "That's goddamn rich comin' from ya. Lil Miss Jezebel. The Tour Guide. The Harlot who-"

"Don't!" You shout, not even caring if anyone outside in the hallways can hear you. "Stop calling me that! I'm not- You wouldn't call me a good girl if I was any of those things!"

"They're- They don't hafta be seperate, darlin'!" His emphasis on the nickname is punctuated by him inching even closer to you, his words getting lower as he starts to hiss them. "Because you're most certainly a Jezebel, climbin' on me every chance ya get. Actin' like your God's gift to men wit' the others. Tell me, that new professor, t'one in the math department-"

"What other- Is this about-" Your thoughts jumble as they try to catch up with what he's saying. He's calling you a complete Jezebel and asking about someone who doesn't even exist to you. Your chest heaves as you push yourself into the little bit of space between you, your pointer finger pointing at his chest. "The new professor? The one I had to ask for help for because he's the only math professor who hasn't tried to come onto me?"

"Do- Do I look stupid to you, Jezebel?" He asks, almost as if he's afraid to say your name. "I heard from the other professors-"

"You could have asked me!" The words are spit out of your mouth and you can even see a bit of spittle flying onto his face. It brings you a sick sense of satisfaction to see how his already angry face slides between pure shock and more anger. "I thought we were friendly enough to do that! I've been to your house, Elvis!"

The noise that comes out of him before he can even get words out is truly defined as a snarl and a growl in the truest sense of the words. If you hadn't known any better you'd have thought you were arguing with a wild animal. It startles you to the point where you back away just a bit, not because you're worried he'll hurt you- no he's never been that type even with everything- but just because it's your natural instinct in the face of something like that. Despite that, he follows you, moves closer again even as his voice roars leaving his mouth. "You've been in my bed, Y/N! My goddamn bed! Curled up next t'me like ya belonged there!"

You duck away from him, almost as if to escape feeling very much like a cornered animal. He's not going to hurt you- he won't because he's not like- he's not like the rest of them but you can't defend yourself if he pins you down with his body or his words. His eyes follow you like a predator stalking prey even if you both know you've never truly been prey to him or perhaps anyone else. "That's exactly my point! Why wouldn't you just ask me?"

"'Cuz ya'd have lied!" His answer is slurred, the anger truly getting the better of him as he moves to cage you against the wall, only to have you slide away again.

"Not to you, Elvis!" How could he even think you'd lie to him about something like that? That you'd truly lie to him in general? "I've never lied to you!" You hadn't told him things but you had never lied, not a true and honest lie.

"Haven't ya?" He doesn't move this time, instead choosing to stare you down. "Tell me, Jezebel. Did ya just wanna fuck me so ya could tell everyone ya did? How ya got me when I haven't fooled around with a student in all my years and I haven't fooled around with anyone going on at least a year? Or was this just ya bein' sweet on the fat ol' man?"

The flinch that comes from you is unexpected and you look down at your body wondering if he shot you or slapped you and you didn't realize. There isn't a mark on you, no blood showing, no handprint making a mark on you. There is just you wishing he would have slapped you or injured you in some way because maybe it would hurt less than the words he had just said. It would hurt less than the accusation he's just thrown your way. You do not cry in front of people, you refuse to, knowing tears never make things better when you're caged and yet you feel your lower lip starting to jut and your nose starting to run before you shake your head. It's- he's not- he is wrong and you need to prove that to him.

"Just being sweet on the fat old man." You can't help but laugh, the cacophony of emotions threatening to tear you apart at the seams. "Do you- Do you hear yourself? I- What is it, Elvis? Am I your Jezebel sent to what ruin your little God Fearing self? Or am I just some Jezebel who's sweet on you? Or are you going to tell me I'm both? That I'm not good enough for you? Too used?"

You see his jaw tighten and you worry if you've said the wrong thing. You worry that he's seen how you look like you're about to cry and something is going to go wrong but he just takes a step closer to you, his cane tapping on the floor just once. His head tilts just slightly to the side. "I know what I said, lil Jezebel. I know that you've been actin' all sweet, actin' like you're worthy of the nickname Belle. Worryin' 'bout me. Comin' to my house, gettin' me into bed but when I worry 'bout ya, put ya in my bed next to me, ya leave me alone. Then I hear t'boys. Hear what the lil professors you'll eventually fuck gotta say about ya. Ya just playin' a lil game wit' me, ain't ya?"

You bite your lower lip as an answer before you take a deep breath as you start to head to the door, trying to open it only to realize at some point he's locked it. You could unlock it but you feel the need to turn around and defend yourself. "That's- Elvis. No. No- I- I wouldn't- I honestly like you!" You don't dare say love because if he thinks this low of you he's not going to want to hear it. "I care about you! I- You haven't been here for almost a week in actual days counted and I've been worried. They're making jokes about you dying and that idea terrifies-"

He cuts you off as he takes another step and you hear another tap of that goddamn cane as you find yourself moving up against the wall, realizing you can't move. "Stop. Lyin'."

"I'm not- Elvis- I'm not! Why can't you- I'm I wouldn't lie to you about something like this. I wouldn't lie to anyone like this." You want to be strong, you want to fight more but it's as if he's saying everything exactly to hurt you in just the right way. He's saying everything that just cuts through any defense you have for it.

It finally starts to weigh on you, finally starts to drag you down into the depths you were trying so hard not to fall into. He- he won't understand either because of his own choices and stubbornness or because the idea is foreign to him. The idea that you were terrified- you the girl who is so strong that you've taken something that should be an insult and wear it with a bit of pride or at least wear it in a way that lessens its effect- is so foreign it truly refuses to penetrate his brain. At last that's the only thing that crosses your own mind as you feel cornered. You feel trapped and like- you feel like something is finally breaking within you. That this, out of everything you've had thrown at you is what's broken you. The wall behind you reminds you of his solid form except it's all wrong, it's so cold that it can't be him. He's standing in front of you, blue eyes raging like a hurricane and his body coiled like a tight spring, his cane holding up his leg as he moves forward to cage you in again and that's it.

Your body sags against the wall, using it to remain somewhat upright as you slunk down to the floor, unshed tears congealing in a hard mass in your throat. You try and swallow only to have something again to a low groan or small whine escape your lips. This- he's broken you, you've been so strong only to let this stupid man who you shouldn't have even gone for in the first place break you. This stupid man who was- who felt so different and like he held every promise for happiness in the words he spoke. In the praise he gave you. In the way his body felt like it was made to hold you and touch you in ways you yearned for.

"Jesus-" His voice sounds crushed above you and for some reason there's a part of you that feels a victorious delight in the fact that you've made him sound like that. Made him sound as anguished as he's made you feel for weeks. As anguished as you feel thinking of him dead. “Y/N- Get up- Ya g-gotta stand up darlin’.”

No you don’t, hell you don’t even trust that your legs would let you stand up at this point, as much as you feel them minutely shaking. No, you’re quite content to stay on the floor, feeling almost catatonic in the way your mind is focusing on everything about the past semester. You try to close your eyes as if that will make the tears that are threatening to fall go away when all it does is make them slide out the corner of your eyes. That's the final dam bursting as more follow even as you don't want them to. All that’s in your mind is every moment he’s touched you, every moment you’ve walked next to him, every moment when his eyes were like sapphires glittering as he looked at you laughing over a bottle of Pepsi while you waved your hands talking. You remember every hint of praise that had your mind going a little fuzzy and had you shiver for a want of more.

"Anyone ever tell ya how insightful ya are?" No because even if you paid attention during class and did the readings and made the grades they didn't care.

"Ya ever thought about teachin'? Though the debate was a goner till ya put it back on track." That was nothing, just you wanting to make sure no one lost the point Elvis was trying to teach.

"You've been makin' this semester a goddamn breeze."

Perhaps you had but for what? For him to be missing class and looking half strung out or exhausted when he came back? In all the time you had spent together he hadn't even hadn't even told you what the problem was- what took him away from you and from a job he loved. Maybe everyone was right, maybe this might be his last semester teaching and look what you’ve done- you’ve made it so his last hurrah is being known as your last fling or just another fling in your series. The thought makes your stomach roil at doing that to him- doing that to a man that God help you- you had fallen head over heels for to the point that you wanted him at any cost and in any way you could get him.

"You're- darlin'- you shouldn't b-be-" He has to stop himself from talking, feeling an old stutter starting to rear its ugly head. His breath comes out shakily as he tries to focus on you, focus on how your shoulders are shaking with tears and how he did this to you. How he's done something that's irrevocably harmed you. He hadn't wanted this, not even at his most angry has he wanted this. "Don't- don't cry. Goddammit, calm down. God, why'd ya hafta get on the ground."

You look up and for a brief moment there’s a flash of fire in your eyes, a pang of pure annoyance at what he says. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you once again! Make the great Elvis Presley have to get down on the ground. Put him at the Jezebel's level. Leave me down here where I apparently deserve to be."

"Ya know I didn't mean it like that! Goddammit Belle, jus' meant my knees-" He has to take a deep breath, slow and steady and shut his eyes as he gets down to your level before he opens them and cups your cheek, trying to be gentle even as you flinch a little and shake your head. "This- you s-shouldn't be cryin' like this." Not over him and what he's done. Over everything that's been done from the very start. "Ain't worth it."

More accurately he ain't worth it.

"I don't know anything when it comes to you, Mr. Presley." You pull away as your tears start to fall even faster. "I am crying like this over a man who thinks I'm- Don't call me Belle, don't call me that like you did when I was leaving you in your bed. Don't act like you care." After all, he doesn't, he can't because who would care for you and feel the way he does about you. Believe the things he does about you without giving you a chance to explain. "I'm just a harlot. I'm the Tour Guide of the school who now even you get to say you've slept with. You've still got it."

"Darlin'." His voice is pitched lower, almost as if he's trying to talk to a skittish animal. As if he's scared if he talks any louder he'll spook you and that you'll run away for good. "I-I never said I didn't care. W-Wouldn't've put ya in my bed that night if I didn't. Ya looked- ya looked freezin' 'n i couldn't stand it." He pauses, his features darkening for a moment. "Then ya left in the mornin' 'fore I even woke up."

You had left in the morning. You had left that morning because every time you stay at someone's house, some professor's house it's always ended so poorly. The way his face darkens as he tells you that makes your body shiver even as his jacket- that for some ungodly reason you still have, that for some ungodly reason you couldn't get rid of- tries to keep you warm. The anger he has makes you think you were right to avoid him that morning- he- but if he cared, if he meant to put you in there- then you should have stayed. He wanted to wake up to you, wanted to have you burrowed into his side. It makes you freeze.

Elvis looks at you and sees how your body tenses up, sees how you're frozen in place and he frowns as you start to speak. "When I stay in the morning, it's not pretty, Elvis. I- I didn't want you to be the same."

His hand clenches into a fist as he shuts his eyes. His breaths are slow and measured for what feels like an eternity before you see him unclench his fist and look at you. "Ya mean how the Chemistry professor's wife would have beaten ya black and blue if she had gotten a real proper hand on ya? 'Stead of the shiner ya had for a week? Or how ya busted yer ankle hoppin' outta tha' one history professor's window. Ya want me to go on?"

Something blooms in your chest at him telling you about those times. You hadn't even met him when any of those times happened. Sure, you had seen him around campus but he didn't- couldn't have even known your name. You open your mouth, tears still falling but slower as your body tries to calm you down. "You- You shouldn't know about-"

"'ve got eyes don't I?" He responds, as if that explains everything. "Y/N- Belle- I noticed ya before ya ever stepped foot in my class. And they talk, darlin', oh do they talk."

It's then that you look away, almost ashamed at knowing that he's always known about you actions. It is absolutely no wonder that he called you what he did, why he believes you to be what he's called you. You have to pause before you speak, trying to gather your thoughts, rubbing at your eyes as you do. "And that's- that's why you've been- if you've heard all the stories and do know about me then I guess you're not wrong in calling me Jezebel. Just adding you to my long list. But- you- when that's what happens when I don't leave- why do you think-"

His voice takes on an edge of frustration you think, or maybe it's genuine hurt. "Ya really think I'd've done any of that to ya? Ya think I'd do any of that t' someone 've been callin' Belle in my mind 'cause I sometimes look at ya n' I can only think of that damn word in French?" He moves to stand up, his knees and other joints cracking just a bit. "Get up, darlin'. I- just trust me this once and get up."

A stubborn part of you wants to stay on the ground, just sit there and stew in your tears and feelings but when you look up at him with blurry eyes you can't help but heave yourself off the floor and plant yourself just close enough to him that you're looking into each other's eyes if you look up through your lashes. "I- Elvis-" You start to speak only to have him cup your face and the warmth of his hand juxtaposed with the calluses on his fingertips has your eyes fluttering shut against your will. He's not supposed to be this soft, not to someone- not to the person he doesn't care about, the person he's only roughly fucked while pretending it didn't happen afterward. "Don't."

When you say that word he pulls away his hand and you think he's listening to you, think that he's doing what you're asking him to do only to hear the next words that come out of his mouth. "Blow your nose, Belle." His hand that hand left your face, had left your cheeks came back with a handkerchief, monogrammed with a cursive EP. He doesn't necessarily shove it under your nose but it's a near miss even as he kisses your forehead. "I'm not moving it from under here till ya do, Belle."

"I'm not a-" You start before looking up at him and realizing despite his comforting air no part of him is doing this because he thinks you're a kid. No, he knows you're a grown woman- you're a grown woman he wants to be with until his dying breath. "I can hold my own handkerchief."

His lips stop in the middle of attempting to give you another peck on your cheek a slight chuckle escaping him. "Would ya quit bein' stubborn? Tryin' to comfort ya and you're tellin' me ya can hold your own handkerchief. 've been a goddamn asshole let me show ya 'm really a good southern gentleman at heart."

"Southern gentleman don't act the way you did." You shakily exhale, realizing that he's trying to comfort you, trying to place small kisses on your face as if that is solving anything. You shake your head. "Southern gentleman don't play with people like that."

"Darlin', trust me, the older we get, the more every single Southern gentleman does." He pauses to look down at you, his blue eyes narrowed. "I try t'be a gentleman but Lord knows 've got a temper wit' a wrath that rivals God himself. 'N I think I took that out on ya. I- I'm- Ya wounded my pride, alright? Sayin' what you said when I asked if ya wanted me t'fuck ya. I know- I know I can get a woman, but I don't- It's usually more of one night stand or somethin' that's lackin'-" He rubs at his neck. "Care. Doesn't have that tender lovin' care I need nowadays more than I did when I was younger."

Care. Oh, you had been so- you both had been so stupid. Your eyes flit up and you notice how vulnerable he looks just in this moment and you swear it takes your breath away. "Elvis. I didn't- I thought you were trying to make me beg." A pause. "I was trying to what I thought you liked. I didn't- You've never been- No one else has made me feel like you make me feel."

So loved, so proud of, so everything under the sun. There's a reason your heart and your brain had wanted to spend the rest of his life and your life together. Being with him felt right when you stripped away everything that's been happening.

Elvis is silent for a moment, almost as if he's debating his next words or actions even as he still places another kiss to the crown of your head and uses his thumb to wipe away tears that keep falling and holding the handkerchief by your nose. He finally puts the handkerchief away, freeing that hand and using it to cup your chin. He tilts your head up just a hair so that you can see his eyes shining with what you think might be unshed tears as his voice becomes so gentle it twists your heart. "What d'ya want from me?"

"Everything." You choke out your answer, your voice scratching and sounding so raw when you do that you almost want to hide. "I want to be with you after this semester. I want to dance with you like we did that night. I- God- I want to wake up with you every day until one of us dies. I just want to be yours."

At your last words the tears start falling in earnest again and it breaks something in Elvis a little, seeing you cry after that confession. He doesn't waste a second before pulling you into a soft kiss, using his grip on your chin to make it easier. You want more but he's pulling away and placing kisses on your forehead and your cheeks, chasing after the tears in a way that's so gentle you'd think it's fatherly but it's not- it's just him allowing you to be a human again. Allowing you to be more than just the harlot or the Jezebel. Seeing you as the person he's always thought you have been before the Incident and even after the Incident.

"Ya mean it?" There's a small part of him that curses how he sounds asking that but he needs to hear it from you. Hear that you're being honest and truthful with him about what you want. "If ya gonna change ya mind I need t'know right now."

You sniffle and shake your head. "I mean it! I want to be with you and only you. I've only been with you since that day. Haven't flirted or anything. I want to do my work on your desk, want to curl up on your couch with you just- I want you. I want you, my Elvis, my Big Daddy because you're- You're the only one who's ever treated me like more." You pause, taking a deep breath. "Like I'm worth getting to know beyond just my pussy. I can't- I don't want to go back to a world where I don't have you. Where I'm not able to kiss you and be with you in whatever way I can. Where I can't fill your house with-" You stop yourself, because that's too much, that's not something you're admitting to him right now. "I just I want you. I'm not changing my mind, if I was going to I would have the second you didn't give me back my panties, Elvis. When you were so mean and hurtful and-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, this time a little less gentle but still nothing compared to what he wants to do to you. His teeth nip at your lower lip just a bit and you can't help the whimper that escapes you as he pulls away your mouth trying to follow his. Looking in his eyes, you see something different, you see the overwhelming lust, the blown pupils threatening to overwhelm his blue eyes but more than that you see a man who looks so in love with you he might as well keel over with the sheer force of it.

"Feel like an idiot for missin' out on that. Gonna keep kissin you like that for as long as i can. Ya realize that." He pauses as his eyes rake over your form. "Get on the desk, Y/N. My sweet Belle." His emphasis on the nickname, Belle versus Jezebel is the only thing that reassures you he's not planning on doing anything rough. That he has a plan for you to look at him while he does- whatever it is. You take a minute to hop up, sniffling once again as you rub at your eyes. Your emotions are still a mess but you can- this helps, you think.

Elvis grunts, using the cane and a grip on your knee to help ease him onto the ground right in front of your legs, right in between your legs as his hands dance up your thighs. His gaze is on you, full of promise and want as his hands inch further up and up until he reaches between your legs, one hand moving to cup your pussy while the other grabs your hip and pulls you a little closer to the edge of the desk.

"You been payin' attention in class?" He asks as you can't help but whimper a little at the feel of his hand covering you like that. "Specifically this one? What we talked 'bout at the beginning?"

Your head nods slowly as you shiver, feeling the fabric of your underwear being pulled lower and lower down your legs. "You mean psalm 51? What about it, Elvis?"

"Think ya can recite it by memory?" The words of his question are punctuated by kisses up your legs, starting with your calves before moving to knees and then to your thighs. He bites softly causing you to clench them together around his head before he mumbles a no. "While I'm here between your legs."

It feels like a challenge and it causes a curl of arousal to shoot directly between your legs as your vagina clenches around nothing. His hand feels the movement and you can feel the smirk of his lips against your skin before you answer as he puts one singular finger inside of you. "I can." You sigh out your answer as he curls that one finger your arousal making it easy for him to.

Hard doesn't even begin to explain how it is to try and speak- to try and remember the psalm as you feel his tongue flick against your clit once, twice, before moving down to your folds. Another finger has joined the first and you can feel them inside of you, following where his tongue traces. His licks and strokes are leisurely done, almost as if he wants to drag this out, wants to go at the pace that you're speaking when all you want to do is have your orgasm that you can feel brewing but when you stop to take a breath, so does he. It's infuriating right until the midway point when you say "grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me" his mouth wraps around your clit, sucking and even giving you a small nip as his fingers curl against your g-spot. It shouldn't be enough to help you cum, it shouldn't and yet you feel your toes curling and your thighs tightening around his head as he hums in satisfaction. Your body shakes, grinding against his mouth even as his free hand tries to keep your hips from moving. Your thighs don't unclench until he taps at your leg and even then they still shake as he pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as you try and pull him up for a kiss only to have him continue his attack on your cunt.

You keep reciting, feeling as if that's what he wants you to do despite how your voice shakes and how you whimper the more sensitive everything becomes. You cum again by the end of your first full recitation, panting with your chest heaving. There is a thought in your mind to tell Elvis to stop, that you need a break but even though you are starting to feel over stimulated, the way he's looking up at you as his mouth does sinful things to you, as he teases your swollen clit with his fingers and his mouth more and more stops you. His free hand moves to lock fingers with the one of your hands that isn't winding through his hair, yanking and earning growls the more you speak. The intimacy of it all has you nearly sobbing tears of joy this time, not the tears of sadness you had been experiencing. You feel yourself cumming in a way that's unfamiliar as you stutter out the words "my tongue will sing of your righteousness" and Elvis has to pull away, a chuckle escaping him as you see his whole face might as well be covered in your release. It takes him a moment to recover but you swear you hear him talking about squirting when he kisses his way up your thigh and back to his task at hand. When you finally finish the psalm the second time your body is shaking and his tongue and fingers and everything are so overwhelming that when you attempt to start the psalm for a third time you say the first words five times.

"Daddy please, let me cum. Please, I've been good." The words are whimpers when they leave your mouth as you try and grind and get to that edge.

"I know, Belle, been so good, taste even better." He mutters against your clit.

That does it, that has your hand clenching his and your other pulling his hair as you grind on his face, practically smothering him as you cum. The sheer intensity of it has you thumping backward on the desk, trying to catch your breath as your legs shake and you hear him speaking against your thigh. You catch bits of the word holy and jezebel and God and you feel a warmth settle in your body that you can't quite explain. You use your hand to pull him away enough that you can understand him before you ask.

"Are- Are you talking to God- thanking God for me?" The concept boggles your mind but it's so touching at the same time that your heart threatens to burst at the idea.

"Think 've been thankin' God for ya since I first saw ya, but 'specially since I saw ya in my class. My holy- My sweet holy Belle." He winces at the crack his knees make when he gets up and leans both on the cane on the desk when he finally stands up. "None of 'em deserved ya 'n I'm not too sure I do but- 'll try to deserve ya."

Your hands move to cup his face, marveling in how he nuzzles up against your palm before you smile, pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Trust me, Elvis, I think you're the only one who ever has." You nuzzle at his nose before pulling away. "How about you let this pretty little sinner, this harlot, this Jezebel take care of you. I don't have a class and-"

Elvis cuts you off with another kiss before he nods. "Only if Big Daddy-" He looks at you, reminding you that yes, your nickname you have for him snuck out. "Gets to take care of his pretty lil sinner, his Belle, and help her wash away all those sins."

The light in the smile you give him could power the whole of the campus for months if you could bottle it up. You slide off the desk a little less gracefully than you mean to before nodding. "Lead the way, Elvis." A pause. "I love you."

"Ain't I the luckiest man for it too." He adjusts himself in his pants, hoping you don't notice that there's a bit of a wet spot on them where his cock should be. "Love ya too. Come on now, never did get to show ya Graceland's shower in my room."

taglist: @elvisgirl35, @butlersluvbott, @lokis-right-femur, @godlypresley, @steph-speaks, @lindszeppelin, @eliseinmemphiss, @thatbanditqueen, @venus-haze, @lrd98, @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @notstefaniepresley, @holyastronauts, @vintageshanny, @powerofelvis and @ellie-24 and i think that's it? i don't know and apologies if you got tagged twice, i trusted a copy/paste.

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley angst #austin butler elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfiction #austin butler elvis x reader #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis smut #austin butler elvis smut #big daddy elvis #ally writes #elvis x you #austin elvis x you #austin elvis x y/n

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thebluestbluewords · 5 months

Text

five golden rings

poly ot4 because I know what I’m about. A little holiday repost.

Evie owns a lot of jewelry.

What she doesn’t own, however, is the golden ring that’s sitting on the top of her jewelry box. It’s a nice ring, small and gold and with a little round blue stone set into it.

There’s no note, but it’s a nice ring, and it goes perfectly with the glittery skirt that Evie’s had on the top of her to-be-worn pile for ages, so she slips it on her right hand. Her starstone droplet earrings match as well, and the soft sweater with the embroidery on the collar is the perfect blend of cute and cozy that she needs for the last week of school before the holidays.

Outfit selected, Evie throws a slipper at Mal on her way to the bathroom.

“Fuck’ff,” the blanket lump on Mal’s bed mumbles. “Too cold.”

“Too bad!” Evie calls back. “Get your dragon butt moving or I’m going to open all the windows and let it snow on you!”

“Mmrgh,” Mal groans, instead of answering. “Mgreeb.”

Glitter eyeshadow is so outdated, even for the holidays. “Did you leave me a ring, babe?” Evie asks as she’s putting on her liner, and Mal is stumbling her way out of bed. “It’s cute.”

Mal presses her face into Evie’s shoulder and mumbles something inaudible. Her hair is sticking up into two little cowlick spikes like her mother’s horns, and it’s kind of adorable.

“Do you think I should wear the cherry red or the mahogany today?” Evie wonders, holding up the two lipsticks. “Babe?”

“Cherry,” Mal mumbles, and leans around for a kiss. “Tastes better.”

“Of course.”

“And I didn’t leave the ring,” Mal adds. “It’s from Jay.”

“It’s cute, I’ll have to tell him he has good taste for once.” Evie says, lifting up her hand to admire it. “I almost want to layer more, but it shines so well alone too.”

Mal bonks her head into Evie’s cheek. “I would wait on layering any more,” she says, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You never know what else might show up.”

“Oh?”

Another kiss. Distracting. “I just think,” Mal says, between pecks that are getting deeper each time. “That there might be,” Another kiss. “More to the present than,” a deeper kiss, lingering. “Just this one.”

Evie puts down her lipstick and returns the favor. “You think so?” she says, almost teasing. “Sure nobody put him up to it?”

“Gifting is about bringing joy to others,” Mal says loftily. “And if I find joy in giving other people gift ideas then it’s none of your business how that happens.”

Evie laughs, and keeps laughing all the way through her morning routine.

There’s another ring in her pencil case. Still gold, but this time with a little red stone. Square cut, and matching the blue one. Evie slips it on her finger just before she picks up her pencil for the final history lecture of the semester.

A third ring, this time clipped around the ring of her chemistry binder. A diamond shaped stone, black as the night and glittering with internal crystals.

The fourth ring has a pale purple stone, cut into an oval. It stacks on with the others, a little progression of bright shapes and shining gold bands up the pale skin of her finger. It comes slipped into the top of her bag just after lunch, as she’s rushing to her next class and worrying about the end-of-year quiz she’s going to have to finish out the day.

It makes her smile, which is worth a lot more than the little piece of metal and stone’s monetary value. Worth more than a castle, the love that she has for her little family.

Auradon has made her soft for affection, and it’s not a bad feeling.

“Hey princess,” Jay says later. Evie is washed up for bed now, soft and wearing her cozy dressing gown that she made herself before they came over to the land of fairy-tale endings. “I have something for you.”

Evie looks up at him, this wonderful boy who finds things just for her, even when they lived on an island with nothing of real value except for the people it contained. “Jaybird,” she says softly. Just for the two of them. Mal and Carlos don’t need to know that they’re being emotionally vulnerable over here. “Thank you.”

Jay doesn't really blush, but he ducks his head.“It’s just a little thing,” he says, like an apology. “This one isn’t as nice as the others.”

Evie stops her restless fingers from playing with the other four, which she’s still wearing, stacked up on her right ring finger like the treasure that they are. “And I’m not as nice as the other princesses,” she says. “Since when has that ever stopped us?”

“True,” Jay says, and opens his hand for her. “Here it is. Five golden rings, delivered just for you, Princess.”

Evie scoops up the fifth ring. It’s a plain gold band, much like the others. The stone set in this one is clear, shaped like a heart, and with a crack running through it. She slips it onto her finger, settling it right where it belongs at the top of the stack.

She holds out her hand, and Jay scoops it up to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the stones. “Fairest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Charmer.” Evie shoots back. “Flattery will get you– oh!”

Jay pulls back. “Do you want me to stop?”

It’s so easy to pull him back in for one more kiss. “Never,” Evie whispers against his lips. “Never-ever-ever.”

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #evie grimhilde #mal bertha #jay son of jafar #the VKs have TWO hands each #and they’re also the sort of freaks who would hold toes so that’s at least four appendages per person

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jakeyt · 10 months

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Covet: Chapter 6 (Sneak Peek)

Here's a little snippet from Chapter 6...

“Fiction or non?”

You were splayed out on your bedroom floor, with Theo across from you. As he’d pored over his textbook, he kept coming up with questions to ask you.

Sure, it might be cute and endearing in a normal circumstance. But right now, you wanted to focus on studying for a couple of upcoming tests, as summer semesters were the worst at moving so damn quickly.

There were more important matters at hand than nonsensical small talk.

Deciding to humor him (and hopefully get back to the task at hand), you responded. “Hmm. . .,” you sat up from where you’d been laying on your stomach to read about Geoffrey Chaucer. “They both have special things about them—both stretch our minds to understand more about other worlds and our own,” you paused, giving it a second to ponder. “Are we talking writing-wise or reading-wise?”

He chuckled, and winked at you. “It doesn’t have to be something you think so deeply about,” he closed his textbook. What was he doing? You still had to make flash cards! “Pretend we’re playing a game and it’s rapid fire questions.”

You didn’t want to be playing a game. You wanted to be sinking your teeth into the intricacies of this author in order to ace your test.

You shook your head, your eyes stuck on his closed book. “Fuck,” you scratched your eyebrow. Your mind flicked to music: fun to write and read about. You were actually currently reading a book about John Lennon. You had many books on your TBR list about famous musicians. A most intriguing subject, in your opinion. “Non-fiction.”

His face scrunched up. “Nah,” he disagreed. “Fiction.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” his stare was blank in response. “Don’t really have to think too hard about it.”

You tried not to roll your eyes at him. In your opinion, thinking hard about what you were writing or reading was what made it most desirable. It made you venture into undiscovered realms of your mind.

When you went to lean back over your book, the movement made you realize just how badly your bladder was begging to be released.

Stupidly, you thought of the ridiculous work schedule on the fridge.

Why the hell couldn’t you just let yourself go to the damn bathroom without thinking about Jake? You knew it was fucking ludicrous. You just didn’t want to see him. When you pulled up the picture of the fridge on your phone, you saw you were in the clear. He should still be at band rehearsal.

You tapped your open book, giving Theo a sign that he needed to open his back up. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” you stood up, the wave of having to pee rushing through you tenfold at the motion. He still hadn’t gotten the hint to open up his textbook. Ugh. “I’ll be back soon and then we will make our cards for the test.”

And as you exited the room, you saw him finally get back to business and open his book back up. After you’d safely closed the door to your room, you rolled your eyes at his lack of care at getting shit done.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You dried your hands on the towel next to the sink, and took a look at yourself in the mirror.

He sort of annoyed you, but Theo was still cute, and he’d made you happy in high school. You weren’t totally opposed to the idea of kissing him (or maybe more) by the end of the night.

It seemed to you to be another good plan to get your mind off of Jake.

And Theo seemed interested enough. Considering he’d been more interested in learning about you, rather than the material for class all night (irritating, but whatever).

Deciding you looked good enough, you opened the door to go back. And as you went to walk out, you stopped at a chest in your way. You got dizzy at the smell—smelled so fucking good—

You looked up.

Jake.

Your eyebrows pinched together, not happy at all that you’d crossed paths. Fucking hell. Why wasn’t he. . .?

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like thi—.”

You held a hand up to silence him, crossing your arms. “Why aren’t you at band practice?”

Why the fuck was he cracking jokes? You were not in the mood.

“Ended early,” his face hardened when he shrugged, stating it plainly.

“Why didn’t you just stay with the guys?” You asked, secretly glad he didn’t. For whatever reason. “You could have hung out with them instead of coming back here.”

“Oh,” he stuck his chin out at the word and leaned a shoulder against the door-hinge. He raised a brow and crossed his arms to mirror you. “I see.”

You definitely didn’t glance at how his bicep flexed as his fingers wrapped around it. And you didn’t take time to appreciate his beautiful hair. . . had it started getting slightly longer?

You shook your head, retraining your eyes.

“Tell me, Jake, what do you see?” You snapped, flicking your eyes up to his.

He scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Saw that guy lying on your bedroom floor, waiting for you. He was even sweet enough to wave at me when he saw me pass your room,” he sarcastically remarked, waving his hand to mimic.

“We’re just studying,” you hushed back, feeling the (unnecessary) need to reassure him.

He scoffed. “You think that’s all it is to him?”

You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips before you pulled him by his T-shirt into the bathroom. You weren’t going to discuss this in a place Theo could possibly hear.

“I know that’s all it is,” you released his shirt like you were repulsed by the touch, when in reality you wanted nothing more than to pull it completely off of him. Damn him.

“I don’t. Just think it’s funny how you’re so naive to believe he doesn’t want more.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Do you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I just think it’s funny that you might want me out just so you can fuck that guy in your bedroom,” he nodded his head in the direction of your room.

Oh. He was taking it there. Okay.

“Yeah? And if I wanted to?” You jutted your chin out the slightest bit, bringing your arms closer, to press against your chest. “How is it any of your damn business?”

He stepped once towards you, eyeing your chest, the tops of your breasts revealed, pushed up to the top of your tank. Your skin flushed, heart racing.

His voice lowered. “It became my business the night you spread your legs for me at Baby’s,” one more step towards you, his eyes locking with yours. Fuck. “When I had you moaning my name while my mouth played between your pretty legs,” another step. “I think you gave yourself away that night. I don’t buy this little act.”

Oh.

Fuck. . . If your heart wasn’t racing.

You blinked, shaking your head. You tried to stand firm. “Wh-what act?” Dammit. Why were you stuttering?

Stand your ground, y/n, you thought, motivating yourself to stay strong.

But as he took one more step in, your body was effectively once again trapped between his body and a sink. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed himself up to your front, so you weren’t distracted by that.

You tried to hold your own.

But shit. . .he was so close. Your skin flared with heat, your heart still beating erratically in your chest.

As you were making direct eye contact with the chest of his white t-shirt, you craned your neck to see his face fully.

“What act, Jacob?”

He shook his head. A little smirk played at his mouth. He brought his hand up to hold your cheek. Your skin was on fire for him and his touch.

You couldn’t help it when you leaned into his hand, letting your cheek press into his calloused flesh.

He licked his lips. “You tell me,” he whispered lowly, nodding his head once at you.

And you couldn’t help it, his deep brown eyes pulled you in. He was begging to be touched. You had to feel him.

Leaning in, you held his cheek just as he held yours. He then took the chance, and captured your lips with his.

Ah. His lips. So soft.

Your vision was hazy, eyes still open, you saw how his eyebrows dipped in with a moan. You matched the sound, closing your eyes, and slipped your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his.

You heard him shut the door with the hand that wasn’t holding your face.

He then moved that hand from your face, reaching both hands under your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lifted you the short distance to sit on the bathroom countertop.

You bit his bottom lip, getting another small moan from him. He did the same to you and then soothed the spot with his tongue. You sighed into his mouth.

Reaching both hands up, you sunk them into his dark, brunette locks. He matched every movement of your lips with his own, and then licked one wet stripe on the roof of your mouth.

You were able to gasp for air when he moved his mouth from yours to give the softest, small kisses to your neck. Though it didn’t last long before he turned his pecks into wet, open-mouthed kisses. The slightest stubble of hair on his lip skimmed against your sensitive skin. He worked from under your jaw, all the way up, to the tender spot behind your ear.

Shivering with a sigh, you gripped his hair tighter, pulling him in as close as he could be to you, on the counter. You felt his hardening length against your center when you did so, making you immediately grind into him.

And when he did the same to the other side of your neck, this time, he nipped at the skin behind your ear. You bucked your hips into his. He released a groan that echoed through the small bathroom, making you want to melt into it.

“More,” you breathed, clutching him closer, making sure the front of you stayed connected to him. Feeling his hard length through the material of his jeans was almost too much, but you craved it. You needed it.

More.

But, the next moment, you heard a little cough from your bedroom, right next door.

It snapped you from your daze. You were suddenly hyper aware that it was not just you two in the apartment. You had to stop.

You pushed him back, jumping off the counter. When you looked in the mirror to check your face and neck, your lips were swollen and your cheeks were flushed. Your neck was still pink from where he’d been. You checked where he’d bit behind your ear, and seeing the redness back there made you want to hop right back onto that counter. Let him have his way with you— right there. Theo be fucking damned.

But you knew better.

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you tried to make yourself look slightly presentable.

From behind you, he was brushing a hand through his hair, when he went to smooth a hand over his cheeks, his jaw stretching with the motion. He was contemplative.

His eyebrows drew together, curious. You couldn’t tell if he was upset. He mostly looked . . .confused.

He removed his hand from his face when his eyes found yours in the mirror, open and wondering. He looked desperate to understand.

“What do you want, y/n?”

You didn’t know what in the hell to tell him.

You wanted Jake. And you wanted him bad. But somehow saying it out loud seemed too difficult at the moment.

And how could you say that to him when he’d so recently, blatantly told you that you were a mistake?

“I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered back, still looking at your blushing cheeks, messy hair, and freshly kissed lips. You’d need a minute to let your skin return to its normal shade before going back to your room.

You turned to face him.

When you saw him, looking so beautiful, so lost. . . You thought of how lost you’d felt for the past couple weeks. His words were once again flashing back through your head.

“It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone.”

It still hurt as you could see him so clearly in the doorway of his bedroom, angry and insistent that you do what he said and leave him alone.

But tonight? Crowding you in here to make out on the bathroom counter? Did he truly want that? For you to leave him alone?

“What do you want?” You leveled him with a stare, your tone sharp, but keeping your voice low since Theo was one room over. You pointed a finger in his chest. “You say you want me to leave you alone, but then you trap me in here like this?”

He shook his head, a dimple showing again with a sarcastic grin. After tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he put the same hand in his pocket.

“Oh, there is no way you are going to turn this around on me,” he matched your quiet tone, understanding. “And trap you? Okay, Little Miss ‘Fuck Me, Jake,’” he used air quotes to remind you of your words from the night at Baby’s.

Fuck.

Of course he remembered you’d said that. Why wouldn’t he?

You decided to ignore it, focusing back on him.

“You’re the one who said it was a mistake! That I needed to leave you alone,” you protested, anger flaring in your chest.

He covered his eyes with a hand, the veins in the hand catching your eye. You’d never noticed how masculine his hands were. And damn if he didn’t know how to use them . . . Even in this moment, debating with him, you wanted them touching every part of you. You wanted his skilled fingers, flexing inside of you.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” His eyes were sad when he moved his hand, when you saw the brown irises again. But there was a fire behind them still. “Dammit, y/n. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about me all the fucking time? I’m not the one who can’t make up my mind about what I want,” he leaned back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “One minute you’re kissing me. You’re with me, naked and ready as I’m pressing into you,” his voice was being raspy, along with the picture he was drawing. . . It made your cheeks pink. You could still feel what he felt like, pressing against you, throbbing. . .so close to being inside of you. He went on, “And the next moment you’re shoving me away from you, making sure to tell me that Josh doesn’t need to know what we’re doing.”

Of course some of this had to do with Josh. You’d had the smallest inkling, based on how weird he’d acted when you set the rules.

Stupid.

“I knew you were making it all weird with Josh. . . is this all about Josh?! You know that he and I—.”

“No! It’s about you and how you make it impossible for us to—.”

“You told me to go away!”

“And you told me to stop,” he said back, his smoky voice still hushed. “More than once.”

Your chest heaved, knowing he was right, but you were so lost on how to explain it all. “There were reasons every time.”

“Reasons,” he scoffed. “So are you going to keep having these reasons? Keep stopping it? Why do you keep letting it happen if all you’re going to do is make us stop?”

“Last time you stopped us, Jake!” You defended, focusing on keeping your voice low. “Not me. You walked away and called it a mistake.”

He covered his face with both hands, growling. You shushed him.

He took his hands away to show his jaw set, clenching with frustration. “You were drunk, y/n!” He begged you to understand, “I wasn’t going to do anything with you without you being in full and total control of yourself.”

You were sure your expression showed it all clicking. You blinked at him. It all made so much sense now.

And what he’d done? His true intentions? Fuck. Sexy as hell.

Maybe you really did need to stop assuming the worst. You just couldn’t help it. It was a trauma response. Jumping to conclusions, thinking that people didn’t want you. . .

Your mom didn’t want you, so you were always convinced other people wouldn’t either.

Especially men who were as beautiful as Jake Kiszka.

Damn. Now it really was all on you. How did you even begin to lay it all out?

You looked him dead in the face, completely unsure of how to articulate the mess in your head.

“I don’t know,” you covered your face with both hands, mimicking him and frustratedly groaning into your palms. When you removed them from your face, you tucked them into your front pockets. You decided to assure him of one thing. For whatever reason, you wanted—needed him to know this. “I do want you. I want what we almost had in the bathroom at Baby’s,” You stepped towards him, wanting to be close to him again. You placed a delicate hand on his chest. He looked down at you, as you looked up into his eyes, reaching to hold your hand on his chest. Your skin tingled at his touch. “I need to feel you, to be with you. . . it just never seems like the right time. There’s always something.”

You didn’t know why you’d suddenly felt the urge to be vulnerable with him. He kept your hand on his chest, holding you, his eyes meeting yours in understanding.

And you knew then that it was just him. Jake Kiszka, in and of himself, made you feel this strange sense of safety, comfortability.

And it was different from the kind his twin had offered you as your friend for so many years.

With Jake, you weren’t just friends. You weren’t even really friends. . .it was something else—an intense, unavoidable attraction. The safe feeling came combined with this desire to be with him.

He felt like a resting ground.

It was weird.

But you liked it.

He smoothed a thumb over your hand on his chest. You held his deep gaze, getting lost in it.

And out of nowhere, he leaned down, kissing your lips with his. Just for a moment.

You felt it all the way down to your toes. The feeling of him so close, with one simple kiss from his soft lips, it felt perfectly intimate.

He released his hold on your hand, wrapping his hand around your waist instead, eyes connected with yours. It was as though he just wanted to touch you, have his hands on you.

It was what you wanted, too. Just the feeling of his hand, as it moved down to just over your hip, his thumb on the skin underneath the hem of your gray tank top. . .it felt right.

He penetrated the thickness in the air with his low, gravelly tone. His eyes were vulnerable as he asked, “Do you want that? To find the right time?”

You reached a hand up, holding his handsome face. You smoothed a thumb over his skin, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “I do. I promise I do,” you blinked up at him, needing his answer to that question. “And do you? Wanna find the right time?”

This was so much, butterflies flew rampant in your tummy.

The grin he gave you was loose, his eyes relieved and open. “I really do.”

It felt so amazing to hear it straight from his lips. He really wanted it too.

You’d overthink all of this later.

He leaned down to kiss you again. You reciprocated, for just a moment, letting your lips move with his.

Then you pulled back, your hand falling from his face.

You nodded at the door. “I gotta get back to studying.”

His hand that was holding your hip squeezed slightly, your skin heating at it. You caught his eye, the intense feeling setting in your beating heart.

“Is that all you’re doing?” His eyes were dark and questioning, making your head spin. “Studying?”

You winked at him, still holding onto your teasing from earlier. “It’s whatever I want it to be.”

His eyes seemed to darken more, pulling you in so your chest touched his. So warm. “I really don’t want to hear another guy fucking you through these walls.”

You pressed closer to him, your body thrumming with fire. “Funny coming from the guy who told me I could just wear earplugs when he brought women over,” then you pulled back, his hand fell. His eyebrow lifted, a tiny smirk lifted his lips. You continued, “Why don’t you go ahead and get a pair of your own, hm?”

You patted his cheek, reluctantly parting from him. Before leaving the bathroom, you chanced one more glance at your appearance. Not quite as flushed as before, though your cheeks were still blushing. You’d find a way to pass it off. Whatever. You’d been gone too long.

You were about to open the bathroom door when, from behind, his voice stopped you. You felt a spark as his hand delicately touched yours.

“Hey.”

You swiveled on your heel, raised your brows in question. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could come to our gig this weekend? It’s a bigger one.”

Did you work this weekend? You couldn’t remember.

All you knew was that, suddenly, you really wanted to be at their show.

“I’m not sure . . . Depends on work.”

“I would love—,” he put a fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat. “The guys and I would love it if you could be there,” he shook his head, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle. “For me, I would just love to look out and see your beautiful face in the crowd.”

Your mind was fuzzy. All of this felt so unreal, yet so real all at once. He really wanted you there? And had he just called you beautiful?

“I’ll try my best,” you slapped on a small grin, trying to play hard to get, masking your inner shock. You wanted to keep him on his toes, like he’d kept you for the past weeks.

He scrunched his brows in and messed with his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, totally get it. Just text me and let me know.”

Anytime he messed with his mouth, it was a distraction. You had to keep yourself from watching too close. It really didn’t help that you knew the feeling of those full, pink lips. . .

And as you walked the short distance to your bedroom, you realized something else.

Had he just asked you to text him?

What was all of this? This new territory you had just discovered?

---

Thoughts? What are you looking forward to most from this chapter?

Let me know <3 I'm so, so sorry this update is taking so long...I promise it will be worth it! (if you know what i mean......)

#covet #sneak peek

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