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holybibly · 25 days

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𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔱 | Mingi x reader

Pairing: Professor Mingi x cam girl | student reader Summary: You hated Professor Song Mingi wholeheartedly. He was young, successful, too handsome to benefit himself, and сonfident as the devil himself. The living embodiment of all your red flags - 10 out of 10 on the "rich, narcissist, idiot" list. At the same time, Song Mingi was the sexiest, most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. But what will you do when Professor Song discovers your dirty little secret? And that he might be too interested in giving you a private lesson in good manners? Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, University!AU, Sex Work!AU, Non-idol!AU, sugar daddy, student х teacher, forbidden relationships, cam girl. Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 10.3 k Warnings: Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play, spanking, orgasm delay, sex toys (dildo, sex machine), sex work and more. net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: This ff has been in my drafts for a very long time and was supposed to be a really sweet "gift" for my bunnies. But for various reasons, it didn't turn out the way I had planned, and I'm personally not entirely happy with what I've written. But I tried too hard, so I'm posting it. I hope that the bunnies will be pleased with the amount of debauchery and lust that I am about to offer you.

Bunnies, Professor Song is waiting for you in the lecture hall.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity

The real life of a student is not always as fun and glamorous as it might seem at first glance. If you think university life is an endless whirlwind of parties and passionate romances, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Student life is nothing more than tonnes of homework, endless stress, and litres of coffee, which you probably drink on an empty stomach because you've been up all night studying for the next 'ultra-important' lesson, and of course impossibly annoying and boring professors who seem to be just waiting for the moment to ruin your life. So when there was an announcement at the beginning of the new term that your group would have a new French literature professor, you were completely oblivious. Your previous professor had been a boring, retired man with an unhealthy obsession with young female students and cigarettes who always left his classroom reeking of tobacco, so you didn't expect much from another 'amazing' professor. But, God, you were wrong. Professor Song Mingi was maybe, just maybe, the most handsome and attractive man you had ever seen in your life. With his elegant and chiselled features, he could definitely pass for a haute couture model. His body was an art form in itself and the hottest topic of discussion in the entire university, not only among the crowd of blushing girls in love but also among the female faculty members.

The way his perfectly pressed classic shirts fit his broad-shouldered, muscular body and the tight, expensive fabric of his pants tightened over his thick, juicy thighs, outlining every muscle, could leave no one indifferent, and even you gave in to the temptation of checking his Instagram profile, especially on lonely evenings. In your defence, you weren't the only one who started fondling herself when thinking of Professor Song Mingi. After all, how could you resist when the man was literally a walking list of the categories on Pornhub? But while Professor Song was a wet dream come to life, he was also the biggest jerk you've ever met. And there were more than a few of them. He was 10 out of 10 on your red flag list: arrogant, narcissistic, annoying, and impossibly self-centred. The world seemed to revolve around him as he looked down on everyone from his lofty perch.

Seriously, every time you thought he couldn't be more handsome and sexy, Mingi would rush out to prove otherwise, driving everyone around him crazy, but in the process, you found even more horrible traits that both excited you and made you hate him with all your heart.

And it seemed that you weren't the only one to feel hatred and resentment, as Professor Song, for reasons unknown to you, decided to make your life a living hell, infuriating you with his every word and action. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't live up to Mingi's high standards, and you always ended up at the very bottom of his class. In all seriousness, the man treated you as if he had the proverbial stick in his arse 24 hours a day. But God, that arse, if you had the chance, you would have loved to sink your teeth into it. It was juicy and firm, and it just created an irresistible urge to hold it in your palms and pull his body closer as Professor Song fucked you hard into the mattress. All in all, if Mingi had been able to hold his lectures standing with his back to the students all the time, as a good student, you would have wanted a seat in the front row, but hell, that was a pipe dream because Professor Song Mingi found a new way to drive you to hysteria every time.

It was really fucked up; you were rewriting your report for the third time, and it looked like you were going to keep on doing it for an indefinite amount of time. It didn't matter to Professor Song that everyone who read your report praised what you said and thought or that you spent a lot of time writing it, sacrificing sleep and nerve cells. But it seemed that nothing could live up to Mingi's standards, which no mortal could ever hope to reach—except for himself, of course.

"Your report lacks depth and understanding of the subject; I'm afraid you weren't paying enough attention while I lectured, Y/N. Did you have more important things to do than listen? Your report is not very good for a student in the third year. I am going to have to ask you to make significant changes; otherwise, you will not be able to pass in my class. Don't let me down this time, or I'll have to take even more serious measures against you."

As if all you ever thought about was being a good girl for him, slobbering all over him, and giving him obedient nods. He can go fuck himself. You hated Song Mingi so much.

French literature was always the first class of the day on a Friday, and it was absolutely terrible. After listening to Professor Song lecture for two hours in his deep, pornographic voice, you usually spend the rest of the day looking grumpy and depressed. And to top it all off, Mingi decided to wear one of his most stunning black designer classic shirts today, in which he unbuttoned a few buttons so that everyone around him could admire his stunningly smooth skin, which you wanted to lick. You swear that this man is a true spawn of hell, sent to earth to be your tormentor and sexual frustration. Needless to say, as well as he ruining your mood, your panties were hopelessly ruined by the sticky juices that tickled your labia whenever you moved.

"Good, at least this day is finally over." You mutter tiredly to yourself as you enter the dormitory that you share with your best friend, who you can't seem to see anywhere at the moment, which is understandable since it's Friday.

Shit, it's Friday; how could you forget it? Damned Professor Song Mingi. You forgot you were supposed to be streaming tonight because you were so caught up in the whole situation.

You hadn't planned to do this all along. It was just a one-time thing to pay off some debts, but money is a real drug that you get addicted to too quickly. But it wasn't just the money; it was the attention. The huge amount of attention you got from your followers was so sweet and exciting that it was impossible to refuse. So, like most other poor girls, it was no surprise that you got sucked into sex work and webcamming too quickly. It was good money that paid your way through university and your way of life without much thought for the future. You received thousands of comments from people who were desperate to fuck that pretty pink cunt of yours, as they had always told you, or to do many other lewd and horrible things to you. You weren't ashamed to admit that you had always been an attention whore, and their words and praise made you want more. It gave you confidence in your body and gave you immense power over those on the other side of the screen, just because of your well-groomed little cunt.

With an excited smile on your face, you walk to your room and remember the package that was delivered to you this morning. A very special gift that you are hoping will be the highlight of this evening's stream. You give a slight squeak as you see a beautiful black box made of heavy, expensive cardboard sitting in the middle of your bed, with a small envelope on top of it. You pick it up, sit down on the bed, and bite your plump lower lip in anticipation. The envelope looks like it came from one of those books of gothic literature that you love so much. It's as black as the box it came in, with a blood-red wax seal in the middle.

As you carefully remove the seal, revealing the small note inside, your whole body subconsciously warms.

"I hope this will make you think of me, doll." Le Maître

The white ink on the black matte paper looks too formal, and you're a little disappointed that the note isn't handwritten. But just to be on the safe side, there's no hint as to who the mysterious sender of the parcel might be. After all, for your own safety, you had to accept the parcel under a made-up pseudonym.

Le Maître. You practically squealed like a schoolgirl when this user first appeared in your paid private chatroom after one of your streams. There were a few other people there, but Le Maître was different; he was regal and bossy to you despite the fact that he paid to jerk off on your body. He was your number one viewer, attending every stream, sending you huge amounts of money, and complimenting and praising you. By now, you can definitely see that you've developed an unhealthy obsession with praise ever since the first time he referred to you as his "good girl."

Just a few days ago, he sent you a text message saying that he wanted to do something special for you—a little gift in celebration of the fact that your account now has over 25,000 subscribers. The gorgeous gift box on your lap is a special gift, and you have an inkling of what's inside the decadent scarlet corrugated paper. You impatiently rifle through the layers of wrapping paper and gasp when you see what you have received—a little sex machine. As you inspect the shiny, erotic pleasure device, you notice a small piece of paper attached to the sturdy, mechanical body of the machine. "A special gift for my angel, who already has more than 25,000 subscriptions. You are such a sweet girl. Please use it in your next stream so your Maître can see it. P.S. I have a controller, Dolly."

You swallow loudly, feeling a nervous shiver run through your body and heat build in the pit of your stomach; you're sure your pussy is already wet with a strangely arousing anticipation, juices dripping down the quivering folds onto your lace panties. Fuck, he's really going to fuck you, thanks to this sex machine. Your attention will be drawn to the large dildo that is attached to the mechanism. It's thick and long, with lots of veins running down the shaft, mimicking the swollen veins on a real cock. It's cold and textured to the touch, and you can imagine how shiny and smooth it will be when your cum runs down it. You squeeze your thighs together in excitement, looking forward to using it tonight and putting on a show for your audience that they won't forget for a very long time. You put your 'gift' to one side and get out of bed to get ready for your weekly stream.

"Hello, bunnies! Are you ready for this evening?" You chirp, your voice sweet and luscious with a slightly childish, innocent tone, as you shyly rub the strap of your sheer lace lingerie. "Tonight I'm going to show you something different from my usual show; as you all know, by now I've reached 25,000 followers." You fidget slightly on the bed, twirling a strand of your long hair around your finger. You purse your lips, knowing that the shimmering lip gloss makes your mouth look just fuckable.

The mini-sex machine is standing on a pouffe out of the camera's view, and you take a deep breath to calm your excitement before you lean closer to the camera so that everyone can see your face and how plump and juicy your tits look in that bra. Luckily, this site doesn't allow screenshots and will quickly ban any user who dares to do so; otherwise, you could be in big trouble.

"You're all so nice to me; you deserve to enjoy my face. Today, I'd like to be a little closer to you. Don't I look especially pretty today?"

One by one, the comments come in, and you giggle at everyone's excitement.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful." "I want to cum on that pretty face of yours, baby." "Your face is making me so horny, sweetie." "These lips are made to suck cock." "You're so pretty; are you going to be an obedient kitty for Daddy?"

We all have our own dirty little secret that we carefully hide, and it happened that the secret of the seemingly arrogant and fastidious Professor Song Mingi was that his regular nightly routine involved watching livestreams of pretty webcam girls with small, tight pussies. A man has needs; sue him for that, and being so busy with work and surrounded by a crowd of hormonal, giggling university students every day, he doesn't have the time or energy to find a connection. And Mingi doubted that anyone could satisfy his sexual appetite. He had always been overly demanding in everything he did, and sex was no exception. Mingi wanted to find a perfect little doll who he could fuck and spoil as much as he wanted; he needed a sweet mouth and free access to a tiny pussy, and in return, he would be happy to give the cute doll his black credit card.

One evening, he found one who immediately caught his attention, and not just because of her pretty, juicy tits and doll-like, shiny mouth, while he was browsing through the numerous profiles of various girls. You were so adorable and innocent-looking, but completely slutty. It was an instant match made in heaven for Mingi. Imagine his surprise when he saw you the first day he started working at the university. You were his student, his sweet little student, the girl he had shameless fantasies about all the time. He thought that he should feel disgusted with himself, or at least ashamed, but to be honest, Mingi didn't care; your cunt was pink and tight, and that was enough to make him forget all sense of decency.

Mingi doesn't know how he feels about it, but the way his cock gets hard just at the sight of you means he'll be getting his money's worth and enjoying the show. His classic black shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his embossed abs and golden, luscious skin dripping with sweat. He unzips his trousers and pulls out his big, throbbing cock, which jerks at the sight of you in the slutty lingerie you have bought with his money. He hisses softly, biting his plump lower lip, his eyes fixed on the cleft between your tits. Mingi desperately wants to fuck your breasts.

"Someone very special has sent me a beautiful gift, my darlings, and I am definitely going to make use of it today." Your cheeks are burning from all the lewd comments, but it is only turning you on more and more, making your pussy even wetter and more needy.

You sit down on the bed, bend down until you can't see the chatter, and pull the ottoman between your legs to the edge of the bed. The sound of the incoming tips becomes loud and constant as soon as the erotic device appears in the frame.

Mingi slowly strokes his thick, veiny member with his hand, clutching the small sex machine controller in his other large hand. He can't help but wonder what it would be like to be the one to destroy your pretty pussy with his cock. His dark eyes bore into yours as he bit down hard on his lower lip and used the pad of his thumb to circle the already-leaking red head of his cock. If only he were able to fuck you right now.

You take a bottle of vanilla lube and smear it on the dildo, moaning loudly as you run your hand from the base to the head several times, tracing the ridges with your fingers to simulate veins, imagining that this is the dick of a certain professor. God, you hate and adore Professor Song at the same time; he is the star of all your most depraved and vulgar fantasies, which is why you always cum so hard and profusely. Fortunately, when you collapse during your orgasm, you have enough control over your mouth to keep from moaning his name.

With your other hand, you pull your pretty panties aside and run your fingers through your wet folds, spreading them slightly and showing off your wetness.

"Fuck, your pussy is so nice." "You've played with yourself before; you're already so wet." "Give me a lick of your pussy, angel."

The comments go on and on, as do the messages about the tips while you are gently massaging your pussy. You close your eyes, bite your lip and let out a soft moan as the pad of your middle finger makes contact with your sensitive clit.

"Damn it, I wish I could have your fingers playing with my pussy right now," you whine. Your free hand pulls down your bra straps, exposing your breasts to the camera, your nipples hardening with growing pleasure. You take the nipple between your fingers and gently twist and pull at it. Your pussy is leaking, the transparent, viscous mucus enveloping your fingers, making them shiny and smooth, and running down your milky thighs, leaving a wet, cold trail.

You imagine Professor Song's long fingers penetrating you, stretching your tight hole, and preparing you for the insertion of his dick into your pussy. Mingi has breathtakingly beautiful hands—wide palms, thick, long fingers, always adorned with rings and bracelets. Fuck, just to feel those rings inside you, pressing against the silky hot walls of your pussy, you would do anything. You circle your fingers around the wet, quivering edge of your hole before you slip two fingers inside, your soft walls tightening around them in an instant. Your other hand stops playing with your nipples and reaches out for the toy that is about to fuck you to death.

Your breathing becomes uneven, your chest rising and falling with your moans and gasps. Your fingers run over the silky walls of your pussy a couple of times before you start to fuck yourself to death at a fast and furious pace. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stick out your tongue and let it drip onto your naked tits.

You know the effect you have on your audience; they love seeing someone so sweet and angelic looking like a slutty whore, and to get more praise and tips, you pull your fingers out of your cunt and slap your pussy with them. The loud signal of the incoming tip is echoed by the wet, disgusting sound of your hand touching your skin.

"Oh daddy, I want your cock so bad; my pussy is throbbing for you," you say. You hold your fingers up to the camera to show how wet they are with your slick. "I'm such a sweet Daddy; I want you to eat me up. I promise I'll come on your tongue like a good girl." You put your fingers in your mouth; you lick them, suck them, and slurp around them. The moans you make sound more like whimpering than something soft and melodic.

On the other side of the screen, Mingi is moaning in a guttural way as he leans back in the big leather chair in his home office, squeezing and massaging his balls as he enjoys the wet slurping sounds that you are making. His cock is pressed against his hard belly, the viscous pre-cum dripping from the head of it and flowing between the reliefs of his abs. His eyes roll back in his head as he imagines fucking your cunt with his nimble fingers, stretching your tight little hole in preparation for his hard fucking. You will be moaning loudly and writhing as your juices flood his hand and run down his sinewy forearm.

You get on your knees on the bed and adjust the toy so that it's right in front of your dripping hole, holding your knickers so that they don't block the view of your pussy. You are already looking so messed up. A long string of mucus is coming out of your hole, straight onto the toy, and the strokes are coming in at a crazy rate. You look straight into the camera with your big innocent eyes; your lips are pouting sweetly. Mingi hisses at this, grabs his dick, and squeezes it several times. The fingers of his other hand are flicking the switch on the controller of the sex machine.

"Please, sir, I've been such a good girl for you. Are you going to fuck me now?" You are licking your lips with the tip of your tongue, and you are lowering your pussy down onto the artificial dick. The silicone is cold and smooth, and the contrast in temperature between it and your hot pussy makes you moan loudly and for a long time.

Mingi growls, the desire coursing through him as he hears the respectful title that falls from your plump lips, in the same way that you address him as "Sir" in class when you turn up for his lecture, and it drives him mad. He turns the dial, and the car comes to life and begins to move. Your eyes lose their focus, and your mouth falls open as the toy begins to move inside of you. Your fingers spread your labia, and you show the audience how the dildo is slowly stretching your tight little hole. The size of the toy is huge, despite the artificial penis being cold and lifeless, but that doesn't change the fact that it is tearing you apart. Your legs tremble as you try to maintain a stable position on the bed. Your toes curl as you begin to play with your swollen, sensitive clit, stimulating yourself further and causing more of the sticky, slippery fluid to gush out of you.

Mingi watched intently through the screen as you writhed and moaned; the toy was finally buried completely inside you, and he could see its impressive size causing your belly to bulge. Damn it! He can bet his bottom dollar that the silicone head of the dick is in direct contact with your cervix. When he sees how greedily your cunt swallows the toy, his predatory dark eyes flash, and he swallows noisily. You can take his cock like a good girl, and he'll see to it that it happens soon. Even though this toy is much bigger than any you've fucked your cunt with in previous streams, Mingi doesn't give you time to get used to its size. But he knows that in reality, you are an absolute slut who lives for the cock and that you can easily take anything that is given to you.

The sex machine picks up speed, and you scream loudly as you feel the fake veins on the dildo drag along the walls of your body with every mechanical movement—your hands cupping and massaging your breasts, your fingers pinching your swollen nipples. The pleasure coursing through your veins, your moans growing louder by the minute, and your head falling back. Your thoughts turn to Professor Song, of course.

God, that man—the way your body has reacted to him has been completely abnormal. Professor Song Mingi is an absolute asshole, and all he does is bully you and ruin your grades. But fuck, you wanted it so much—to destroy your pussy with his dick. You hate every part of his gorgeous appearance—that stupid long hair, a weird shade of orange that looks damn good on him, those sharp fox eyes that always look at you with judgement. There's such disgust and contempt in his eyes; it's like he's saying, "You're a worthless whore," and God, you really want him to address you like that, especially in that porn voice that makes your pussy leak.

Under your fingers, what will his hair feel like? Will it be as soft to the touch as it is to the eye? What will his eyes be like? Will they be filled with unbridled hunger as his long, slick tongue flicks across your clit? Will his deep voice vibrate against your skin as he moans softly and tastes you in his mouth? Will his big, rough hands be gripping your hips, digging their fingers into the soft flesh until you're bruised and scratched, holding you still as he buries his face in your cunt as if he couldn't live without it for a single day? All these vivid erotic images flash through your brain, the constant beeping of the donors just background noise as you imagine your professor's deep, velvety voice commanding you to cum.

"Wish you could fuck me now. Oh fuck! Please, sir, fuck your pretty little doll properly." You moan loudly as the speed of the sex machine increases, all the words blending together. The whirring sound of the machine synchronises with the rapid beating of your heart as the silicone cock thrusts into you, lewd squelching fills the room, and your moans and cries become longer and more pitiful, like a cat in heat, as your orgasm begins to build rapidly.

"Oh sir, I'm thinking about the way your dick is sliding between my legs. Is it as thick and as big as this toy? Are you going to feed your doll with your cum?"

There are few things in this world that can make Professor Song Mingi lose his balance, but the sight of his cute little student fucking her dripping, plump cunt with the toy he has given her is definitely the one thing that makes his jaw drop. You are fucking beautiful, a real doll that Mingi would like to sit on a velvet cushion in his house and admire like a work of art. He knows you're about to come—your cheeks are flushed, your lips are parted in a perfect orgasmic "oh," your trembling little hand reaches for your clit to rub the throbbing bundle of nerves and bring you to the desired climax, and your eyes are so closed you can hardly see.

Mingi's hand glides a little faster over his dick; it's slippery and shiny with the sperm that leaks out of it. At the same pace as you rub your aching clit, Mingi makes sharp, quick circles with his palm around his cock.

"Fuck!" Mingi growls as he grips the arm of the chair and pushes his hips into his hand, the massive bracelets around his wrist clanking as his hand comes down hard on his cock. As the sex machine fucks you hard and fast at top speed, the controller is forgotten on the table next to his laptop. Your piercing moans are music to his ears, and the way your thighs subtly tremble shows the immense pleasure he is indirectly giving you. Your head is thrown back, exposing your neck, and your hips roll on the toy, the juices from your vagina running down your ass and soaking the sheets beneath you, your juicy, plump tits bouncing with the movement of the sex machine.

"Sir, Daddy, please! Can I cum for you? Please let me come for you! I've been such a good girl for you!" You are shaking all over, your orgasm is growing stronger with each passing second, and you know that it is going to be amazing. The palm of your hand is slapping your pussy again, and the sounds of tipping over are coming with renewed force. What fucking perverts!

When he realises the effect he is having on you without even touching you, a tingle runs down Mingi's spine. He has complete control over your orgasm, and you will do whatever he wants without him interfering in your real life.

"Come for me, my doll." His voice is dark and deep, despite the force with which he fucks his hand, the leather chair creaking from the powerful thrusts of his thick, meaty thighs. As if you can hear him, you pinch your clit sharply and squeal deafeningly, your body shaking in small convulsions as you cum on a toy you imagine is Professor Song's dick. The walls of your pussy contract as you try to hold the fake cock inside you as you ride out your orgasm.

Mingi cum right after you, moaning gutturally, his eyes rolling back in his head as streams of cum spray onto his thighs and abs, his mind clouded by the orgasm, and he completely forgets that he hasn't turned off the toy that continues to mercilessly stuff your cunt. His attention is drawn back to you when he hears you squealing pitifully, the tears rolling down your face and smearing your make-up, and Mingi finds himself thinking that he would like to see the same look on your face when his dick is deep down in your throat.

"Oh my God, s-sir, turn it off! Please, I can't... Oh, bloody hell! Sir, I beg you..." You scream, the tears streaming freely down your face as the sex machine continues to fill your pussy with cock like there is no tomorrow, your hands gripping the sheets as the sensory overload washes over your body like a tidal wave.

Mingi looks at you with hunger and animal lust as he watches the toy abuse your used, dripping cunt. Of course, he could turn it off if he wanted to, but he doesn't because he knows that you could just lie back on the bed and put an end to your supposed agony, but you don't want to.

He gives you a devilish grin and licks his lips as he watches the fat tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you beg him to make it stop. Your whole body glistens with a subtle sheen of sweat, and as Mingi has watched your body countless times, he knows every reaction of yours—you will cum for him; he is sure of it.

"Oh god, damn, damn! I'm going to cum again, Daddy." You let out another loud squeal, your back arching as you come for the second time that night, and this time a clear stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy, soaking the sheets even more. The tipping sounds are louder than they were before, and if there was an audience in your room, they would definitely enjoy watching you squirt over and over again. Damn, you really put on a show for them that they won't forget in a hurry.

Mingi smiles with satisfaction and strokes his cock once more, this time prolonging his pleasure with lazy strokes as he watches you whimpering and twitching with the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm. He is kind enough to put an end to your torment by picking up the controller unit from the table and turning off the sex machine. The loud mechanical whirring ceases as the toy stops fucking you. You slowly rise from your seat, the thick dildo sliding out of your pussy—glossy and wet with your essence. You whimper quietly, still too sensitive, your chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths. The next thing you do is make Mingi sink teeth into his lower lip until it starts to bleed.

"Let me clean you, Daddy; you have been so good to me today. My cunt feels so warm and full." Your pretty, plump lips wrap around the fake cock's head, smacking sweetly before shoving the larger half of the toy into your mouth, sucking and licking with your tongue like a real cock. After tasting the juices running down the length of the silicone, you close your eyes and moan.

Your brain forms images of how you would do this to Mingi, choking on his cock, swallowing it to the base, tickling his balls with the tip of your tongue; sucking him like a good girl, licking every swollen vein along its huge velvety length, and you know Professor Song has a big, thick dick. You think about how he will grab your hips, slap your butt cheeks hard, and penetrate your needy, horny cunt with one hard thrust until his balls are slapping against your ass. Fuck, you really want Professor Song to destroy you, and this desire almost overshadows the hatred you feel for this man.

Snap back to reality, and you're practically crawling over to your laptop with innocent, tear-stained eyes before pulling the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and smiling brightly at the camera as if you hadn't just been ruined by a silicone dick. Your mouth is shiny and wet from a mixture of saliva, sticky pink lip gloss, and your juices.

"Fuck, that was so hot."

"I'd like you to splash on my cock as well, honey."

"Wow, baby, I didn't know you could do that. Will you squirt on my face if I pay you?"

"I want to cum in your cunt so bad, sweet cheeks, daddy must keep you full and pretty with his cum."

"You're so fucking beautiful, angel, I'll jerk off on your face every night."

"That was your best stream ever, princess."

All these comments are making you giggle. Men are really just horny animals; show them a nice pussy and they will be at your feet.

You spend some time interacting with the public, reading comments, and showing off your new toys and lingerie that you bought with the money you made from streaming. The cursor hovers over the bright red button, and before you press it to end the broadcast, you look straight into the camera, first slowly licking your lips, then slightly tilting your head to the side with the sweetest expression on your cute little face. It may seem that you are talking to all the viewers, but in fact you are talking to just one man, Le Maître.

"I hope you have enjoyed today's show, sir, and that you have had a lot of fun. But I really want you to use your real dick to make me cum and squirt so hard. I really, really want you to fuck me in real life, Daddy." You kissed and winked at everyone, and you finally finished your show.

Mingi couldn't sleep at all that night; after the show, he jerked off two or three more times, even using an artificial pussy, imagining he was fucking you instead of a cold silicone toy. He came so much that his cum was everywhere, even landing on his luxurious diamond-encrusted Rolex.

In contrast to your restless, overheated professor, you fell asleep almost immediately—tired and satisfied—from an amazing orgasm and from a huge amount of money that fell into your bank account after the stream had ended. Of course, your Le Maître was the biggest donor of all.

Next Friday

"I expect all of you to take this course more seriously and to have your homework done by Monday. From next week, there will be three more lectures on French literature in your course, so don't be a disappointment to me. The class is dismissed."

You sigh heavily, already anticipating the torment the extra pairings with Professor Song will bring you. Fuck, you hate him so much, but the sight of his thighs in those tight trousers should be illegal. That's a real crime against humanity. You gather your things and hope to get out of the stuffy lecture hall, which now always has the smell of pure sex—Professor Song's perfume. If you didn't know any better, you'd be thinking that the man was literally bathing in an aphrodisiac, because it's just not real to smell like that. You never thought you'd be turned on by someone else's perfume, but here we are, drooling on the floor at the incredibly sexy scent that Professor Song Mingi wears like a second skin. Sometimes you wonder: Does the bitch know how attractive he is? But he does, and he uses it to his advantage, judging by that smug, arrogant grin that always sits on those plump, sensual lips.

You are just about to leave when you hear his deep, husky voice calling out your name. Oh no, not now.

"I'd like to talk to you about your performance, Y/N." Mingi begins to speak slowly, stretching out the letters and putting emphasis on the last word. There is definitely a certain ambiguity in all this, which you can't quite make out. "What can you tell me about it?" He walks around his desk, leans his gorgeous butt against it, and crosses his arms over his chest. His poor shirt buttons try harder than the devil on a good day.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion and walk down the stairs, authematic, to be closer to him. Why is he asking you that now? Damn, he always finds the perfect time to throw you off balance. Your heart races, and you try to ground yourself, thinking about what an idiot he is and what strange things could be going on in that beautiful head of his. You struggled to read him; his stunning model face always had this arrogant royal expression that completely failed to convey his true feelings, so every time you talked to him, it was like playing with a big cat.

"I think I'm all right, Sir. Why are you asking?" You stammer slightly, but when you hear Mingi's deep moaning, all your mental scolding about your nervousness quickly fades away. You stare at him with your eyes wide open in an attempt to comprehend what the hell is going on. Your eyes focus on Professor Song. The way your narcissistic jerk of a professor shamelessly adjusts his trousers, which now show a very noticeable bulge in his crotch.

Before you know it, you're standing right in front of him, and your nervousness has returned with a vengeance. He's even more handsome up close—classic glasses perched on the bridge of his perfect nose, his long fingers reaching up to remove them and place them on the table. He stares at you with his dark fox eyes, towering over your petite frame, as he carefully pulls the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, revealing the massive bracelets around his wrists and the bulging veins on his forearms. God, does he have any idea of the effect this has on you? Too afraid to look him in the eye, you cast a glance at the small cross around his neck.

"Yes, you're doing very well. Too well, actually, aren't you, Y/N?" As his thumb runs down your soft cheek, tracing the outline of your mouth lower until he slides it between your parted lips, you almost gasp and feel like you're going to faint. You don't hear anything but your heart pounding in your ears. It feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. You stare at him helplessly as he presses the pad of his finger against your tongue, stroking it lightly. A devilish grin appears on his plump lips, replacing his usual bitchy expression with something more sinister and dangerous. "Such a beautiful little dolly, aren't you? So skilled with your fingers, so good with that pretty little doll mouth of yours, and you definitely know how to serve that little cunt of yours perfectly." Mingi whispers as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching under your skirt and squeezing your bare bottom. Fuck, you definitely shouldn't have worn a thong today. "I'm sure you're playing with your sweet bottom, too, bunny." He continues to rub his thumb over your tongue for a few more moments, while his other hand gives your arse a hard massage that makes you squeal with pleasure. You're quite sure that the skin on your bottom is already red from his aggressive touch. As soon as Mingi stops touching you and pulls his hands away from you, crossing them over his broad chest, the situation comes back to you.

You are watching his every move, breathing heavily, letting your eyes glide over every pulsing vein on his forearms, and praying to God that you will have enough strength not to lean over and run the tip of your tongue over them.

"P-Professor, I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about."

"Oh, darling, don't play innocent; you have a very clear idea of what I'm talking about. I'm really glad you found a good use for the gift I gave you last night, my angel." Professor Song's voice is a velvety whisper, and considering how quiet it is in the lecture theatre, he might as well have shouted, the meaning of his words ringing loudly in your ears. He's like a predator, slowly circling around you, the soles of his designer shoes clicking on the parquet floor. Your feet feel as if they are glued to the floor, and you don't know what to do. When you try to speak again, your voice sounds broken, and you are on the verge of tears.

"Will there be a report against me, Professor Song? Or what? You haven't got any hard evidence that it's me." You say it with conviction, and hope springs, but unfortunately, it dies as soon as Mingi opens his mouth.

"That may be true, my dear. But you wouldn't want such terrible accusations to be made against you, would you? Mingi taunts you; his deep voice suddenly comes very close to your ear. You feel so unprotected in his presence, so tiny in comparison to his huge, tall body. Why does this man have to be so bloody big?

"They'll never know it was me who found your profile on the porn site; I could easily pass it off as an anonymous tip." You catch your breath as you feel his rough, hot hand slide under your skirt and up your thigh. Mingi smiles at your reaction and leans in closer to you, biting the lobe of your ear. "Besides, this is going to get rumoured around the university. People will be tempted to do a check on your account—people you know, people you might be close to." He goes on, the heat of his breath making you shiver.

His broad palm grips your mound in a possessive way, the heat from your pretty pussy causing his cock to twitch in his trousers. You try to stifle a shameful moan, but the sound escapes you, and you unconsciously lean forward, pressing your breasts against him. Mingi wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he does so. Oh shit, your head is spinning from the smell of his perfume so close, and on top of everything else, you're ashamed to admit it, but your pussy is terribly wet, and you're pretty sure Professor Song can feel your wetness in the palm of his hand.

"It may be illegal to screenshot, and your streamers will disappear, but what about the pictures and videos you've posted? Of course, everyone will be able to see your sexy little body all over the place. And don't you dare argue about it. You always look like a thirsty slut, wearing those tiny skirts and shoving your tits in everyone's face. You are a worthless little bitch." Professor Song hisses and presses the palm of his hand harder against your pussy, and you want to rub it against it so badly that it's almost pathetic.

Your tongue doesn't turn into an object; it's as if it were glued to the roof of your mouth. Mingi was right; you've always dressed rather provocatively, and it's never bothered you, but it seemed to bother him.

"Either way, your name will still be in tatters, and my reputation will be perfect and clean, as it should be. I'm a respected professor with a model student. I'm not someone who watches a cam-girl stream every Friday night and watches how she stuffs a fake cock into her luscious little cunt." Wiping away a tear that has accidentally escaped your eye, Mingi's thumb runs down your cheek. Your vision is blurred by the tears, and the dark, lustful eyes of Professor Song are the only thing you can see clearly.

"Please tell me... What can I do to stop you from saying anything about me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, and your words are a useless string of letters. Mingi's eyes flash angrily at your whimpering plea.

"Ah angel, you sound even better in real life when you're begging." Mingi moans as his middle finger slowly rubs the folds of your folds through your panties, which are more like a tiny piece of lace and do very little to cover the plumpness of your cunt. You whimper softly as you lean back against his shoulder. You've always been easy to arouse, and the wet sound you make when Mingi's fingers tease your pussy makes it clear that you're absolutely flowing for him right now. You can be sure that as soon as he pulls your panties off to the side, your viscous slime will be dripping freely out of your hole and onto the polished parquet floor. "I think you know very well what it is I want from you. I pay you good money all the time; don't you think I deserve the real thing, my doll?" You let out a loud whimper as his big hand pressed down hard on your shoulder. "On your knees, little one; don't keep your sir waiting."

As you kneel before your professor, facing the growing bulge in his trousers, your lower lip trembles. Professor Song is leaning against the desk, his hands on either side of his body, gazing up at you from under the lashes of his eyes. Your trembling hands are fumbling with his belt, and the sound of the metal echoes through the empty room.

"Oh, now you're embarrassin' yourself, darlin'? Where's that slutty bitch who was squirting all over yesterday because she let her pussy get stretched by a big dildo?" Mingi says it arrogantly, tilting his head to the side and tapping his fingers on his desk in disappointment. You flinch at his words like a slap in the face, but don't bother to reply as you pull down his trousers and underwear, the sight of his thick, wiry cock making your mouth dry as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Like everything else about Professor Song, his cock is amazing—a drop of pre-ejaculate glistening on the flushed head, a thick vein swollen and throbbing just waiting for you to run your soft tongue over it, and its size—he's got a huge cock with a massive girth that you can barely wrap your palm around. Mingi wraps his hand around the cock, his thumb smearing the wetness over the head before he brings it to your lips and runs his whole length over it, leaving a wet sheen, and slaps your mouth a couple of times.

"Open your mouth, dolly."

Mingi's other hand tangles in your hair, pulling hard on the long strands as you obediently open your mouth for him. His thick cock enters your mouth slowly, your jaw tensing as you try to get used to the size of it. You choke as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat and the balls rest against the side of your chin. Mingi's thumb caressed your tear-stained cheek, and he cooed sweetly as he watched you gurgle around his cock, drool bubbling at the corners of your lips and dripping down your chin. His cock is hot and heavy in your mouth, the veins stretching across the sensitive, velvety skin. Professor Song doesn't give you enough time to get used to the size of his cock and pulls your head back until the only thing left in your mouth is his head.

"Don't you think you should lick me before I fuck you in the mouth, doll? You were very eloquent about wanting me to do it yesterday." You obediently run your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling more pre-cum pouring from his slit onto your tongue. It has a sweetly bitter taste, and you think that it is very suitable for Mingi. "Well done." Professor Song hisses at you before he pushes his cock all the way back into your mouth. You gasp as your hands fly to his strong, muscular thighs in an attempt to push him away as his hips thrust sharply forward, mindlessly using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve. The thick length of it presses down on your throat, and the bulge of his cock is perfectly visible against the back of your neck with each powerful thrust.

"I have been waiting for such a long time to fuck that slutty mouth. Darling, I can see that you have nothing more to say to me, do you? That's how it's supposed to be; whores don't get to talk." Mingi lets out a deep moan and throws her head back as she pushes you down on his cock. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum and sticky lip gloss, coating the length of thickly dick, making it shiny and smooth so it slides easily over your tongue and deeper into your throat. As you reflexively try to swallow, your jaw aches, your lips stretch around the thick circumference, and the walls of your throat contract. Never in your life have you sucked such a big, long cock, yet here you are, fulfilling the role of a pretty sex toy for your professor to enjoy. At least, unlike some lifeless silicone, no matter how expensive, your cunt and mouth are warm and moist.

As he mercilessly fucks you in the mouth, Professor Song is not shy about his volume, emitting hoarse, prolonged moans and growls. Anyone could walk into the lecture hall at any moment and see your compromising position, but for some reason it turns you on. Maybe you really are a slut, although as long as you get paid enough, you don't mind being one, especially when Mingi is the one scolding you daily until you pass out.

"Fuck, I'll cum." Mingi gasps as he wraps both of his large arms around your head, trying to hold it in place. You moan around his cock, the vibrations making Professor Song growl ducky as he presses harder into your slluty mouth and your grip on his hips tightens, your nails digging into the juicy flesh, leaving vicious marks, but Mingy doesn't give a shit; you could rip his skin off if he keeps fucking you like a personal doll. His dark, foxy eyes find yours, his beautiful, plump lips are slightly parted, and his balls are clenched, slapping you on the chin. Now you don't even know what to call him. If you thought Song Mingi looked like a wet dream before, then now he's sex itself.

"Damn, damn, damn, doll!" He moans loudly, jerking his hips as his sperm pours into your mouth. As you forcefully swallow the viscous liquid that seems to have no end, your prolonged whimper is distorted. There's so much of his cum that some of it seeps through the corners of your mouth. He continues to slowly fuck your mouth. "Don't waste it, slut." He says it in a threatening voice, and you whimper at the venom in his tone. Mingi uses his long fingers to push his cum between your lips and roughly wipes the wet mess around your mouth. All of his rings are covered in a thin layer of cum and saliva, but you think it's hot.

You blink twice, catch your breath, and the next thing you know, your knees are no longer touching the cold floor, and your face, wet with tears and sperm, is pressed against Professor Song's spotless, cold desk; he has thrown you on the desk like a fucking doll. Fucking hell, that wasn't supposed to turn you on, but God, this man is just driving you crazy. You're too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice that Mingi has lifted your skirt, exposing your wet thong to his gaze. The cold air in the audience causes your hole to clench in reflex and the liquid to squirt out.

You have to clench your fist to keep from squealing as the tight, expensive leather of his belt lands on your bottom with a loud crack. Oh my God, he has just hit you with his belt. Oh shit. Mingi doesn't let you recover; he holds your head against the table with one hand while he slaps your bottom again with the other. The sting of the contact between your soft flesh and the belt makes you squirm and writhe.

"You just sucking my cock, and you're already so wet? You really are a slut. Aren't you?" He smirks as he leans down and sinks his teeth into the flushed skin of your arse before giving you another good spanking. You whimper as Mingi pulls your thong down your trembling legs, long strands of your own slime tugging at the insignificant piece of fabric as he does so. He pushes your buttocks apart so that your plump, flowing pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.

Mingi picks up your leg, which is bent at the knee, and puts it down on the table. You whimper and grab hold of the edge of the table, embarrassed at how open you are to him at this moment. To be honest, it's the most disgusting feeling—you're embarrassed, but at the same time, you want him to do even more disgusting and humiliating things with you. Professor Song crouches down in front of you and spits into your cunt before licking a long, sloppy strip between your folds. Mingi uses his fingers to push your folds apart and then slides the tip of his tongue into your tight hole, tracing the edge of it.

"Oh, God, sir..." As Mingi eagerly licks your cunt, avoiding your throbbing clit, you let out a long moan and arch your hips towards his tongue. He pulls back abruptly, his heavy hand coming down on your bruised arse to spank you hard before you can get the stimulation you need.

"Did I tell you you could move, huh? You impatient bitch." You whimper at his reproachful tone. You scratch the wood with your fingernails as he spanks you again. "A good student answers the question, Dolly." Mingi hisses, mixing the scalding pain with the pleasure of the spanking, as his hand touches your bottom again. "N-no, sir! You didn't tell me to move! I'm so sorry."

"That's right, doll, but I have a feeling the games are over for today." Professor Song says as he finally gets up to his full height and puts his arm around your neck.

Breathing heavily and hoarsely, Mingi feels the heat emanating from you as he guides his thick cock into your little hole. You let out a loud breath and wonder if his cock will feel like the toy he has given you. Probably not; however much you like it, nothing compares to the warmth and throbbing of a real cock, especially Song Mingi's cock. You squirm as you feel the head of his cock pass slowly between your muscles, a soft howl escaping from your lips. The dildo you used yesterday is nothing compared to Mingi's dick; it feels bigger and thicker, the swollen veins of his cock stretching deliciously along your silky, trembling walls. The urge to hold him inside you is almost irresistible, and you can't help but clench around him. Fuck, and here you thought Mingi couldn't be more slutty and godlike, and you were wondering if his cock had been given special attention during his creation? You let out a loud moan, your tongue flicking out of your mouth, and right now you definitely fit the definition of 'well fucked'. Drops of sweat roll down Mingi's neck, disappearing beneath the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, exposing his hot golden skin and sculpted breasts. Heavy breathing replaces what he's saying, and you feel partly grateful for that. When he finally enters you at the base, the head of his cock touching your cervix and his forehead pressing against your shoulder, you both moan loudly.

"S-Sir, y-you're too big."

Ignoring your whimpering, Mingi grabs you by the hips and immediately sets a brutal but rhythmic pace with you. The objects on his desk shake and fall, shattering on the parquet floor as he fucks you, pressing your body against the desk with the full weight of his body. The fabric rubbing against your hardened nipples sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and makes you shiver from the added stimulation. Your moans grow louder and louder, your cheeks burning, and you can hear his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he thrusts your tight pussy back and forth along the length of his throbbing cock. The humiliation of pouring cream around Professor Song's cock brings tears to your eyes, but at the same time, you come to an almost orgasmic pleasure as he slaps your arse again. The sting stings like a bitch, but it feels fucking unbelievably good.

"That's it, goddamn it. I've been thinking about fucking that tight little cunt for ages. You really are the perfect doll to fuck."

It all makes you dizzy, and you moan "sir" and "daddy" as your pussy sucks him up greedily. You're getting so excited; you don't want to admit it, but you can't help yourself. You can't get enough of Mingi's cock. It feels so good inside you.

"That's my good little girl. You're definitely worth what I've paid for you." Mingi growls in your ear as he pushes harder and harder into your used cunt. He presses down hard on your neck, pinning you to the table, not letting you move, and fucking you relentlessly, his hips moving hard and fast as he takes complete control of your body. Your orgasm starts to form, an intoxicating sensation of rapture coursing through your veins like lava.

"Sir, please! Harder!" You need to cum so badly that you beg him to go harder.

Mingi's eyes were narrow—dark and cruel—and his muscles were quivering and tense from your pathetic begging. He's a professor, and professors always want the best for their students, especially the ones they like best.

"Look at you, begging for my cock like a good little bitch," he says. He accentuates the last word with a strong thrust and plunges so deep into your cunt that you can almost feel the head of his cock entering your cervix. A mixture of incoherent words and intermittent moans escape your lips. Your head falls forward as Professor Song releases your neck to grab your thighs again, leaving more bruises on them.

"Will you cum for me, bitch?" He leans down to your ear and nibbles on your lobe, the slapping of your skin and squishing of your pussy echoing through the empty hall.

"Hell yeah! I'm going to cum for you! I'm going to cum for you, Daddy; I'm going to cum on your cock!" You scream, the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter, and Professor Song fucks your flowing cunt faster and harder.

"Then cum, bunny." He growls, his hips losing their rhythm and jerking, his cock throbbing as thick, hot jets of cum coat the walls of your cunt. He moans your name quietly while your voice is barely audible—a weak, panting whisper, 'Mingi'. Both of your bodies are slowly at rest, revelling in the haze of your orgasms. Soft cries and whimpers escape from your lips, and you shudder as you feel your mixed juices pour out of you, staining the floor that was once so clean. You collapse helplessly on the table, your body going limp, a puddle of saliva pooling under your cheek, and your breathing heavy as you try to clear your mind.

Mingi moans. He bites his plump lip as he comes out of you. You whimper, squirming awkwardly as more cum pours from your pussy. You turn back to look at Professor Song, and your eyes almost pop out of your head as you see him pressing your panties to his nose and moaning loudly and satisfied. He smirks at you vulgarly, licks his lips, and wipes his cock with your underwear before tucking his dick into his trousers, the zip jangling loudly. He dismissively tosses your thong aside and presses against you again, pinning you between the desk and his big muscular body, his hot breath touching your earlobe, before whispering in his deep porn voice.

"Don't think that this is just a one-time thing, doll. I have paid for you, and now you belong to me. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Professor Song. I understand you perfectly."

"That's good. You're a real teacher's pet. On Monday evening, I will be expecting you for an extra lesson. Don't you dare disappoint me, doll." He slaps your butt once more before he pulls himself away completely and walks out of the classroom.

Oh, this is really fucked up.

1K notes · View notes

canthelpit0 · 13 days

Text

Come through

Pairing: Cocky!Player!Chris x Reader

Word count: 4.5k+

Summary: chris hand always been a player. Would that change once he becomes famous? -no.

Warnings: smut, player!Chris, influencer!Reader, party, mentions of drinking/tobacco/weed, pet names (ma, pretty boy, pretty lady, sweetheart, etc.), bathroom sex, semi public, oral m!receiving, fingering, p in v (protected), praise kink, swearing, no use of y/n, no oc, written in 2nd pov

(A/N: English is not my first language, and I always appreciate feedback enjoy! love y'all. this is heavily inspired by come through, the song.)

Chris had always been sort of a fuckboy.

And with his growing fame it wasn’t getting any better.

Chris has a huge ego. Sure people would always say him and his brothers are nice and humble, but that doesn’t mean Chris can’t be cocky at times.

He didn’t drink. He was underage, though in LA nobody really cared about that anyway. He just didn’t like drinking.

Chris and his brothers would always be invited to some random LA parties.

At first Chris never wanted to go. He didn’t like partying. He didn’t like the smell of alcohol, tobacco and weed.

However he soon came to realize that his looks and fame would get girls swooning over him.

He was being a player and he knew it. However none of the girls he’s ever been with complained.

He made sure they know that it would be a one night stand, and that he doesn’t date. And it worked for him.

★ ★ ★

You were an upcoming YouTuber and influencer. You were starting to gain more and more followers. People were starting to notice you more

You were known for your humor and your witty comebacks.

And as much as you would like to deny it, People didn’t just loved you for your personality, but they also loved your body.

You were gorgeous, To put it lightly.

So obviously when Chris saw you on his for you page a week ago, picking out an outfit to put on for some place you were going to that day, he thought you were hot.

Not that he’d do anything about it.

He wasn’t the type of guy to slide into someone’s dm’s. Because quite frankly he didn’t care that much.

★ ★ ★

But when he saw you at the party he was attending tho…

You’d been carelessly dancing. You weren’t drinking, even tho you were 21. You didn’t want to drink today. You wanted to have sober fun and hang out with your friends.

Your friends always did and said the craziest things when drunk. And watching it as the sober designated driver was hilarious.

You feel big hands being placed on your waist delicately.

You turn around to see who it was and to your surprise it was one of the sturniolo triplets.

Chris.

He’s bold for just touching you like that. But for some reason it was hot. Maybe it was just the air laced in weed that was getting to you, but you were enjoying this.

So you simply dance with him.

After a while you both leave the middle of the crowd going to the kitchen to talk. The kitchen being way less crowded than the living room of this house party.

“You’re bold.” You chuckle pointing out watching as his expression morphed into one of amusement and lust as he checks you out.

“Couldn’t help myself ma”

“Sure you couldn’t, pretty boy” you chuckle rolling your eyes at the statement.

Chris, to the public was known to be a sweetheart. But in LA, around other influencers he was known to have quite frequent hook ups. And he was known to never leave any of the girls not satisfied.

You, having moved to LA recently for your career, have heard all about it. People were ‘warning’ you, but no one was outright telling you it was a stupid idea. Because was it tho?

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here anyway?” His goofy grin is wide as he stares back into your eyes.

His eyes are a light shade of blue, but in the lights of the party and his blown out pupils they look dark. His brown hair long, and a mess.

After people had told you about him and his brothers (And particularly Chris’ reputation), you had searched them up and watched a few of their videos. They were quite funny.

And Chris in particular seemed to not be able to take anything seriously.

“Nothing, just having fun.”

You shrug taking a sip from your red solo cup. It was filled with plain water. Chris raised an eyebrow at that.

“You’re not drinking?” He can’t help the small laugh he lets out at that. Tho he is secretly glad you’re not. This was his chance to get you in bed, but he wasn’t going to do anything with a drunk girl.

“No,” you chuckle back. “Designated driver” you raise your free hand in surrender as if it was a crime.

He chuckles at your antics his eyes trailing over your face over to your body once more.

“Eyes up here sweetheart.”

His eyes snap back to yours his goofy grin staying right where it was.

“Sorry ma, you’re just really distracting.” He smiles looking down at you.

You weren’t that much shorter than him. But granted you were wearing high heels. He wasn’t even that tall himself though.

You were wearing a tiny mini dress. One that ends right below your ass. Your cleavage being low giving him a great view of your boobs.

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You tease. You take a step closer to him, stepping into his personal space as you tilt your head up to look at him better.

His hand goes to the side of your jaw rubbing his thumb over your cheek gently as if asking for consent. You wrap your arm Around his neck pulling him down connecting your lips.

The sweet kiss turns more heated when his hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck. His other hand holding you by the small of your back keeping your body flush against himself.

His tongue graces your lips asking for entrance with you eagerly give, parting your mouth slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

You make out, your tongues tangling in each other as you simply kiss for a moment.

His tongue hungrily exploring your mouth. He leans into you more tilting your head back more, kissing you with all the lust in his body. Kissing you Like he wants to devour you.

You eventually pull apart to breath. His lips immediately meeting your jawline. He kisses down your jawline moving down to your neck to your collarbone.

“Damn you smell amazing.” He breaths out. His voice strained from the previous kiss.

“Thank you” you chuckle your hand finding its way into his messy waves. You scratch his scalp with your freshly manicured nails causing him to let out a low groan.

He pulls back slightly. He leaves a quick peck on your lips before looking at you again.

“How about we go somewhere.” His voice low and raspy. Laced with the attraction and lust he feels for you.

You just hum. He starts to drag you back through the living room, through the crowd of people. Getting to some random bathroom. He opens the door and lets you walk in first.

You immediately stand in front of the mirror, leaning over slightly to fix your hair.

He closes and locks the door behind himself. He stands behind you watching you through the mirror. You make eye contact. In this new lighting his eyes seem clearer.

He stares into your soul as you push back from the sink.

You swiftly turn around and sink to your knees in front of him.

Chris would’ve never asked. But wich guy doesn’t like head.

“So eager” he chuckles. His hand goes to the top of your head petting it gently. Before he picks up your chin, making you look up at him again.

Your head is tilted back as you look up at him through your lashes. you know he’s probably had countless woman in this same position. But it never got old for him.

And he liked seeing you like the is anyway

“You look so pretty like this you know.” He mumbles before leaning down and leaving a heated kiss on your lips.

He stands back up straight, and you can’t help the way your eyes trail to his crotch. It was right in front of your face and you were getting impatient.

Before you know it your hands go to the top of his jeans, tugging on them gently. You were asking for permission without asking.

He chuckles at your eagerness, undoing his belt, then unbuttoning the jeans and letting you slide them down.

You can already see his huge erection through his boxers. Your mouth was already watering at the sight.

You pull down his boxers fast. His length springing free, hitting his abdomen.

You flinch back slightly. You look at his length with an eyebrow raised not doing anything for a moment just admiring.

You’ve never seen a dick be this pretty. It had a thick vain running up the side. It was long, at least a good 8 inches. It was thick, not too thick, but enough that you knew the stretch would burn.

“You good?” He asks. He was clearly holding in a laugh. His hand goes to your hair, still just patting the top of your head.

“You’re sure you’re white?” You tease one hand cupping his member as you start to gently and slowly jerk him off.

“Definitely, sweetheart” he chuckles rolling his eyes at the comment. People always asked about it. Wich is fine since most people weren’t used to his size. the constant questioning was so annoying sometimes.

But the way you teased him with that sentence was just too good.

His red tip is already leaking pre cum. He eagerly waits for you to start. You press a small peck on it, while looking up at him your eyes staying locked on his.

You start to kitten lick the tip. You watch as he lets out a slightly shaky sigh at the contact.

“C’mon ma, don’t tease.”

You pull away slightly chuckling at the statement. You teasingly blow air on it, watching as he shivers. But before he can start complaining about your teasing you take his entire tip in your mouth swirling your tongue around it.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighs softly. He rubs your cheek with the back of his hand as you hollow out your cheeks to give him more pleasure.

His hand moves to my hair taking it and putting it in a makeshift ponytail. You start to take him as deep as you could, starting to slowly bob your head. Sucking and swirling your tongue. You take him as deep as you can jerking off what you can’t fit with your manicured hand.

The sounded coming from it are sinful, and so are his low moans and grunts.

When you hear his soft grunts turn into moans you can tell he’s getting close. You pull off with a pop. You stroke him gently, and then teasingly lick a stripe up his shaft.

“You like that?” You tease licking at it. He groans in annoyance. He thrusts his hips back to get more friction from your hand.

“Please keep going.”

You lick your lips briefly watching him. His eyes meet yours. You chuckle starting to suck him off again. This time you do it more vigorously and faster than before. His dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gag around it.

Chris’ grip in your hair tightens as he starts to tug in it. He holds you in place stopping your movements as he starts to harshly thrust in and out of your mouth.

The sounds of your moans send sensations of pleasure through him. Every sinful sound echos through the small bathroom, making the music outside sound non existent to you two.

His cock is repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the harsh feeling. You try to gag as little as possible.

“Fucking- swallow ‘aight” he breaths out harshly. You hum as best as you could. The sensation tingles through his spine. And with a last thrust you feel his cum pore down your throat. You try your best to swallow as much as you could.

He gently pulls out. His thumb rubbing the corner of your lips where some of it had leaked.

He puts his thumb on your plump and swollen lips. And without a secound thought you suck on his thumb. You blink away the tears that’d been forming.

The sight is enough to have him going all over again.

His grip on your hair had loosened, but he still pulls you up by it gently.

He turns you around, so that you’re facing the mirror your hands on the sink. Your ass presented to him.

His eyes meet yours through the mirror once more. Seemingly asking for consent, to wich you nod.

His hand starts to trail over the side of your thigh slightly under your short dress.

“Words baby”

“Yes Chris- please” you waste no time asking him. You want him to touch you where you crave him the most.

“Gonna be a good little slut now?” He teases. His eyes stay locked on yours through the mirror.

“Mhm” you mumble watching him. You feel him start to pull up your dress. He bunches it up right over your ass.

His fingers go to trail over your slick wet folds. Chris pushes the lacy thong to the side. He rubs his fingers briefly over your clit, before going to tease your cunt.

“Words, sweetheart.” He repeats, his eyes staying locked on yours. He had no problem teasing you until you comply.

“Yes-“ you get cut off by a Moan. When he slams two of his long fingers into you.

Your body jolts forward, your thighs hitting the cold sink. You grimace at the feeling.

“Wow, so sensitive?” He teases leaning over again to leave a quick peck behind your ear.

He starts to plunge his fingers in and out of your cunt. He roughly fingers you, his long fingers curl just right to hit your sweet spot.

You let out a breathless moan letting your head fall forward. You were leaning on your arms for support.

You feel his big hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back up. “Now, now, baby watch yourself.” He teases.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me” he taunts. You flutter your eyes open. You feel his fingering get rougher as you can feel your climax rapidly approaching. You’re tempted to close your eyes again, but you’re sure Chris would edge you or something.

So you try your best to keep them open and staring at his face.

“Good girl. Yeah. Just like that.” He praises. His low words sending tingles to your core. You can practically feel yourself get wetter at how words and the sound of his voice alone.

Your wetness is loud. The lewd sounds bounce off of the bathroom walls. That along with your sweet low moans, while you try to keep yourself together.

“You like my praise honey?” He asks in a sweet tone. His words sound so innocent. Unlike the very things he’s doing to you right now.

“Yes- god” you whine, this time not hesitating to answer.

He chuckles at your eagerness speeding up his pace to give you your release. His fingers curl at just the right spots, reaching places you couldn’t reach by yourself.

“I’m close-“

“I know.” Chris grins keeping his eyes on yours through the mirror. His hand moves higher from your neck to your jaw, cupping your face roughly.

He turns your head to face him. He roughly crashes his lips onto yours. You try hard to focus on the kiss, but the way he finger fucks you has you weak in the knees. The kiss is sloppy and messy. His tongue explores your mouth as you try hard to focus.

You whine loudly. His lips catching the moan as he only picks up pace even more. He gets the hint that you’re close. And before you know it, you’re coming around his fingers.

He lets go of your face. You lean further on your arms. Your Hands harshly gripping onto the sink. You let your head fall forward as you pant harshly.

He gently pulls out his fingers. His eyes focused on the way you’re throbbing around nothing.

He sucks his fingers clean humming at the taste of your cunt on them. “Did so well for me ma” he hums reassuringly, pressing a sweet kiss on your neck.

“You think you can take another, sweet girl?” He says softly.

“Please.” Your breath out your voice shaky. You pick up your head looking at him through the mirror again.

He leans down briefly to his jeans that were still pooling down at his feet.

Chris puts his hand on your hip His eyes locking with yours through the mirror. He holds out a condom with one hand. He leans over you to leave a quick peck on your shoulder.

“I’m clean” you raise an eyebrow at him through the mirror. He doesn’t respond. “And I’m on birth control..” you trail off watching him.

He grins letting out a low laugh that seems to vibrate through his entire chest.

He presses his chest up against your back as his arm wraps around your torso. He leaves another kiss on your shoulder, trailing it up to your neck and right under your ear.

“I’m not taking any chances ma”

His voice is low and seductive. The tone sending vibrations right to your core.

“Fine for me” you shrug as you watch him lean back. His eyes lock on your ass. He licks his lips.

Chris roughly rips open the condom package with his teeth. Rolling the condom over himself fast. He was eager to get into you as fast as possible.

He hums in response, caressing your ass gently, his other hand guiding his dick through your soaked folds.

He gently starts to push into you. Letting you take the tip first. Once he feels you relax he rams in the rest of his cock.

You let out another breathless moan at the impact. Chris doesn’t move right away tho, he wants to make it last as long as possible.

“Good” he praises lowly rubbing your hips soothingly. Your body was tense, and he was waiting for you to adjust just a little bit.

You let out a shaky sigh pushing yourself back on him. He takes the hint that he can move now.

So before you realize it, he’s relentlessly pounding into you. You let out a squealed moan at the sudden intense feeling of his movements.

“Oh- fuck-“

He chuckles, and suddenly you feel a harsh slap on your butt. You wince at the harshness. Chris’ hand goes to knead your ass, easing out the pain.

His other hand trails from your waist to the small of your back to arch it more, consequently pushing you closer to the sink.

You lean over the sink. You try hard to keep your head up and look at him. But with the way he is hitting every spot inside of you, it’s hard for you to focus right now.

Chris notices the struggle. One of his hands trail from your hip, up your back teasingly. Before he grabs your hair roughly, putting it in a makeshift ponytail.

“Does the pretty girl like getting her hair pulled like a slut?”

The way he tugs on your hair, the way his sharp eyes trail over your body , and then lock on your eyes through the mirror. It’s all so hot to you.

You let out a shaky breath between Moans. “Yes-“ before you can say anything more you feel him tug harder on your hair And his thrusts becoming harsher.

His eyes train back onto your ass And the way it looks when he thrusts into you. The way his cock disappears in your wet cunt. It’s so captivating to watch for him. He could stare at that sight for hours.

“Gorgeous girl wants to get fucked like this?” He questions teasingly. Another harsh slap echos through the bathroom, But it feels so euphoric.

Your eyes close momentarily at the feeling. Before you feel him rub your ass again. Chris tugs on your hair again, to wich you open your eyes.

“Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you”

Chris’ words are harsh. He is being dead serious. His breaths sharp and his tone laced with lust.

You only let out a mumble to wich he pulls on your hair harsher. And another smack echos through the room. You jolt forward again at the sudden impact, but this time he doesn’t ease the pain away. Instead his pace gets even rougher.

The sound of skin clapping, and the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt are loud, Creating a sinful melody.

“Touch yourself ma.” He huffs out harshly keeping up the pace. Chris keeps his fingers tangled in your hair pulling on it. While his other hand stays firmly on your hip. The harshness at wich he is holding onto you would be enough to leave bruises.

Without thinking you reach one hand down starting to rub your clit furiously, chasing your own high.

“Close” you moan as you keep repeatedly rubbing your clit. And the way Chris’ cock is hitting your cervix only intensifies the feeling.

“Come around me baby” you’ve been pulsing around him all this time. You were already squeezing him so tight. What he wouldn’t give right now to just feel your cunt squeeze him while you come.

So he keeps going. Until you let out a loud whine. You close your legs as best as you could and You clench around Chris harshly.

Chris keeps up pace. His eyes locking to your ass. Watching the way his cock disappears into you over and over. Watching the way the condom he’s wearing is covered in your slik wetness.

What he wouldn’t give to just raw dog it and feel your cum on his bare dick right now. He was tempted to actually just take off the condom to see and feel this without one.

Chris’ thrusts become more messy. But his pace doesn’t let up. Until his hips stutter and he lets out a breathless moan burying himself into you one last time.

His jaw is dropped. He moves his hand from your hip, instead wrapping that arm around your waist, holding you close. He leans over your back keeping himself inside for a moment. Chris burries his face in the crook of your neck. You both breathe heavily at your previous orgasms.

His hand in your hairs loosens. Until he fully lets go. His hand rubbing your scalp since he’d been pulling on it relentlessly.

“Did so good for me ma” he mumbles. His face stays buried in your neck for a moment.

You place your hand back on the sink again, trying to catch your breath and steady yourself.

You’d just fucked a random influencer. Some random player. But, god, was that worth it. No wonder none of his one night stands ever complained. That was fucking amazing.

You just mumble out a quick agreement.

He stands up straight. Gently pulling out as to not hurt you or anything. He takes off the condom.

But while he gets rid of it you don’t even pay attention to him. You look at yourself in the mirror. As much as you want to regret it, you can’t.

You pull your thong back into place and pull your mini dress back down.

You examine your face. Your hair was messy from the pulling, and your make up was only slightly smudged. You’d almost cried while deepthroating him, but you luckily hadn’t. Tho your mascara was still slightly smudged.

You could feel your cunt still ache.

You can see Chris pull up his pants from the corner of the mirror. And then fasten his belt back.

“You okay?” Chris asks his arms wrapping a round you. He looks at you through the mirror . His expression is soft and more caring than you’d expect. Most guys would’ve left by now.

“Mhm.” You mumble watching his expression through the mirror. He narrows his eyes at you.

“Do you regret it?” He asks softly. His tone sweet, like he is talking about something normal.

You purse your lips trying to hold back a smile. The fact that he cared to ask if you regret it or not. Everyone told you he’s a fuck boy, and that is motto is literally ‘hit and quit’. But why was he being nice then?

“No” you speak. And you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your lips.

He turns you around so you face him. He presses a quick peck on your lips. Before he leans over and grabs a random towel off a rack. He wets it slightly in the sink behind you.

And then he sinks onto his knees in front of you. He looks up at you pulling up your dress again slightly.

“What’re you doing?” You question. a chuckle leaves your lips at the sight of Chris on his knees in front of you.

He leans in leaving a soft kiss on your thigh.

“I’m not letting you walk out with your cum running down your thighs ma.” Chris laughs, he then runs the damp towel over your inner thighs.

He cleans you up enough for you to not feel so sticky anymore. He places your panties back. Then he gets up again. Chris pulls down your dress for you before placing another kiss on your lips.

He throws the towel into some laundry bag carelessly. At your curious gaze he explains. “A friend of mine is throwing this party.” He shrugs.

There is a silence for a second where you two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. Until you speak up again.

“Do you always wear condoms when you hook up with girls?”

You ask before the words even register in your mind. And once they do a blush creeps over your cheeks.

“Yeah. I won’t wear one next time if you don’t want me too.” He chuckles. “There will be a next time?” You question.

Chris was the type to only hook up with a girl once. He probably didn’t even remember half of their names.

Instead of answering though, he leans in and kisses you. The kiss is slower, not heated like the previous one shad been.

One of your hands moves from his neck to grab his phone out of his back pocket.

You Lean back slightly. You type your number into his phone. Then you hand it back to him.

He grins at the new contact on his screen.

“I’ll see you around pretty boy.”

You smile giving him another kiss on the lips. And this one lingers. You slide out of his grasp opening the bathroom door. he watches with a goofy grin, as you leave.

You leave going straight back into the crowd of drunk influencers. Trying to search for your drunk friends that would be around here somewhere.

You know he’s a player. So you don’t know if he’ll call you. You don’t know if you’re special, and if he treated you different than others. But if it came down to it you’d at least tried.

But,

He’s not into dating.

Materlist

(A/N: I literally wrote this within the span of one day. I feel like this is probably the best thing I've written so far. Hope you enjoyed <33)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @ecliphttlunar

#SoundCloud #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #oneshot

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reality-detective · 2 months

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Questions To Ask Ourselves:

1. What is an Egyptian pyramid doing on a US dollar bill?

2. Why did 56 countries sign a treaty not to take risks and enter Antarctica?

3. Why do planes never fly over Antarctica?

4. How did NASA "lose" the photos of the moon landing, one of the most important moments for humanity?

5. If Neil Armstrong was the first to walk on the moon, who held the camera?

6. Why haven't we gone back to the moon?

7. If monkeys evolved into humans, why are there still monkeys?

8. Why does 95% of our DNA exist as "junk"? Who decided it was actually "garbage"?

9. How were huge, symmetrical, detailed, sacred, and geometrically regular structures such as cathedrals and parliamentary buildings created by people who lived in log cabins, rode horse-drawn carriages, and had no machines or lasers?

10. How is it that similar pre-Columbian architecture is found all over the world?

11. Why are there images in ancient Egyptian art that resemble "spaceships"?

12. Why were remains and images of giant people found? And why do different ancient scriptures from various cultures, including the Bible, talk about giants?

13. Why are there images of mushrooms in ancient Christian art? And why does the Pope dress up like a giant Amanita muscaria mushroom?

14. Why do ancient Egyptian artworks show jaws, and is it a coincidence that the pineal gland resembles jaws?

15. Why are there descriptions of dragons all over the world and in different cultures, thousands of years apart, and also mentioned in the Bible?

16. Why is there so much blatant satanic symbolism in the music and entertainment industry?

17. Why do most video games revolve around killing?

18. How is it possible that movies and cartoons like The Simpsons can predict certain cultural events so accurately?

19. How do forest fires melt cars but leave trees intact?

20. What is the national debt? If there is a borrower, there must also be a lender: who is it?

21. How is it that the so-called "national debt" has increased despite tax increases? Where does the taxpayer's money go?

22. Why is alcohol and tobacco poisoning considered "normal" and referred to simply as "drinking" and "smoking"?

23. Why are alcohol and tobacco shown in almost all shows and movies?

24. How do news presenters around the world and on various channels say and repeat the same script word for word?

25. If we are more progressive and informed than ever before, why do we have the highest rates of obesity, cancer, and heart disease, not to mention depression?

Questions you should have already been asking yourself and there are many more you should be asking. 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do your own research #do some research #ask yourself questions #question everything #ask questions #fitfo

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fuckmyskywalker · 1 month

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𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 — 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

18+, smut, milf!reader x sam, mentions of pregnancy, body changes, breastfeeding, reader is divorced, age gap (reader is in 30s, sam is 21), afab!reader/fem!reader. | word count: 1.8k (not proofread!)

I did this for free ;( </3 (/j)

“Thank you for watching him, you are a lifesaver,” You smile, kneeling to pick up your toddler. Lifting him effortlessly, the child rests on your hip and wraps his arms around your neck. You kiss your son’s forehead, watching how he struggles to keep his eyes open. “Are you sleepy, Mikey?”

Your son nods and rests his head on your chest, yawning. Sam smiles, biting his tongue and wishing he could lay his head on your chest like that. “Don’t mention it. You know I can babysit Michael whenever you need.”

It’s true. It’s not like he has something better to do with his life, plus the extra money is something he can’t refuse. Your son isn’t annoying anyway— like his stepsiblings— and he can always play Xbox in the living room with him until he asks for food and Sam microwaves him a hot pocket. Not the best meal for a child but feeding him properly is your job, not his. His job is to make sure he doesn’t die. Babysitting always comes with an extra pay… seeing you. Sam has seen you all his life, and maybe— just maybe he has the biggest crush on you. At first, it was somewhat innocent; seeing you share a glass of wine with his mother, driving around, tending your garden… that’s it until he began paying more attention to you (which gradually became more and more physical the more he grew up).

It was still somewhat healthy, but that was until you had your son. Seeing you pregnant and being the only 19-year-old at the baby shower, made him feel… different. He couldn’t take his eyes off your stomach for a reason, he did notice how your body changed and that’s when everything went downhill. Sam did everything he could to be near you. Helping you with your trash, helping you with your garden, damn, even helping you move stuff when your husband was at work. He didn’t have anything against him, but the lingering thought of a young man who had a crush on his older neighbor who was married was a cliche.

I can treat you better than him.

Being realistic, he couldn’t. Unemployed, thinking about dropping college every week, and with a tiny teeny problem with weed and cigarettes. He always drowned himself in cologne when he knew you were coming over, but that didn’t mask the smell and he could see your nose twitching every time he walked in— pregnant women always know when you smoked— which almost made him quit tobacco… almost.

When he heard the news about your divorce, he was thrilled. Delusional would be the correct word, but thrilled nonetheless. Sam tried to be subtle, and he could listen to your conversations with Robin about the downfall of your marriage if he pressed his ear against his door. Of course your husband didn’t treat you right, of course his dick was just enough to impregnate you and not to make you feel good. That only reinforced his illusions. Seeing you just made his hormones crazy, and he would never forget that one time he walked downstairs for some water— after jacking off to the thought of you— and found you in the living room with his mother talking about the current flaws of the government while you were breastfeeding. He’ll never forget how he got a peek of your breast.

So, naturally, when the excuse to spend time with you came with the label of “babysitter”, Sam took it. No questions asked. He would’ve done it for free but you insisted. He’d never do anything for free— but for you? Just say the word.

“Let me put him to sleep and I’ll be right back.”

He nods and watches you go upstairs, his blue eyes gluing to your ass in that pencil skirt. He needs to go to the company you work at and thank whoever decided tight pencil skirts were a requirement. Sam feels and probably looks awkward as he waits for you, tapping his worn black Converse against the rug. His fingers twitch with the need to smoke, but not inside your house and not in front of you. You hate tobacco. It reminds you of your ex-husband. When you come back, Sam smiles politely, trying to focus on your precious face instead of the open buttons of your shirt. He was tall enough to get a peek of your cleavage if he walked closer, but it would be too obvious.

“You want to stay for dinner?” You ask with a sweet smile. He is a weak man. He can’t resist that charming, beaming smile— and those tits.

He watches you cook, admiring every movement and every sway. If he focuses too much it will be counterproductive, he doesn’t want to get an erection in your kitchen. Sam says nothing when you pour a glass of wine and declines when you offer him one— he’s not a wine guy, but it’s not like you’d have a blue ribbon lying around your fridge. You don’t look like that type of person— insisting on just keeping you company. Listening to you is one of his favorite activities too, especially when you are distracted. He can see you all he wants, but like it was expected, he has to cross his leg to hide his boner. That was faster than usual.

As you wait for the vegetables to boil, you turn around to look at him. A frown etches on your beautiful brows and when you step closer, Sam’s heart jolts. Is he in trouble? Your hand raises and he expects a slap— but you just remove a little piece of plastic off his cheek. He had no clue that it was there.

“You had a little something,” You explain, smiling comfortingly. “Were you guys playing with his legos? I think the new set I got him last week still has those little factory edges that Mikey likes to peel off.” You know your son better than he does, so your deduction is spot on.

“Yeah,” He tries to smile back, but it feels clumsy. It’s not something he does often. “He isn’t like Ryan, he is a pain in the ass—” He stops, he should watch his language when he’s around you. You laugh, which brings him relief. “He is!”

You laugh again, and what a joyful sound that is. Sam chuckles too, just following along. “He’s a child, he’s still discovering his own personality.”

Sam doesn’t have the strength to say otherwise. If you say the sky is purple, then he believes you. Whatever you say, he believes it.

So when you compliment his eyes, he finds himself suddenly shy. He tries to play it off modestly, which is 99% genuine. He just wishes you could compliment something… else. Thoughts begin to spiral down. It’s like a rabbit hole that keeps going and going and keeps him awake during his most lustful nights, with his hand wrapped around his cock and peeking over his window with the pathetic hope to see you. His silence doesn’t go unnoticed, and you bring him back to reality by placing a hand on his cheek.

“You alright?” Your concern makes him nod and swallow. In his fantasies, it is the other way around. He is the one supposed to make you flustered. “You sure? You dozed off.”

“I'm great, don’t worry.”

Or maybe he is dreaming. Because you definitely aren’t leaning closer, tilting your head to get a better look at his flushed cheeks… and you are definitely not smiling and placing your free hand on his thigh. Your fingertips must feel so soft, your nails, manicured and a vivid red color must feel so good touching his thigh but his damn ripped jeans are in the way.

“Are you sure?” It’s a whisper, and he doubts if he heard the salacious tone in it. “You look… upset,” Upset wouldn’t be the right word.

His eyes betray him, darting down to look at your cleavage. He can see the edges of your bra, it’s lace, they are black. It must be a push-up bra because there’s no way your tits look so good this close. It makes him want to slide his cock in between them. You chuckle at his reaction but you don’t seem bothered by it. Not in the slightest.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. It’s embarrassing, really. Why is he acting like a virgin? “No,” He manages to croak out, fighting with his own urges to not look at your chest again.

“Don’t be so shy. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

That does it for him. Launching forward, Sam crashes his lips against yours in a messy kiss. Something came over him, something that he had been bottling up for years. You giggle in response but much to his pleasure you reciprocate. Your lips are as lovely and velvety as he imagined, your tongue tastes like wine and maybe he doesn’t hate it anymore. Lifting the hand that still holds your almost empty glass, you use the other one to cradle his head. It is as if the little restraint he had left snapped. His hand cups your breast, squeezing it perhaps a little too hard. Fighting with your buttons, he breaks the kiss to look at your chest.

“Can I?” He mumbles, taking a deep breath.

“Go on, darling.”

He almost rips off your bra, yanking it down and groaning under his breath when he sees your tits bounce softly. Wasting no time he attaches his lip to your left nipple, sucking it eagerly and swirling his tongue around. The labret piercing feels cold against your skin but his mouth is hot and enthusiastic. For him is like a relief, for you is an adorable display of desperation. Brushing his hair, you moan in delight at the way he is playing with your chest, nibbling your hardened bud and taking care of the unattended one with his hand. He rolls your nipple underneath his fingertips, even flicking it gently.

“Good boy,” Those words make his cock twitch. There’s definitely a wet spot on his boxers now. He could even come in his underwear just by sucking your perfect tits.

Sam moans when you tug his dark hair, urging him to switch sides, practically guiding him. He could argue he doesn’t need guidance, but right now? If you want him on his knees, he’s ready to kneel and adore you.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs?” You offer him and he nods, still keeping his mouth around your breast, sucking harder. He bites this time, which grants him the most delicious moan. Your chest arches, almost smothering him in your flesh. He could die happily. “I wanna see what else that tongue can do.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x reader smut #sam monroe x you #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe x fem!reader #sam monroe x milf!reader #life changing

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hai7ani · 7 months

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橘 (TACHIBANA/JÚ) haitani rindou

nsfw (smut) mdni

masterlist | playlist

part i / what would you do for love?

You think the summer of 2008 is bittersweet.

You did a lot of things back then -- finishing your gap year after graduating last summer and working a part-time job at a Family Mart in central town. Applied for countless of universities in Tokyo while questioning if it was really what you wanted to do. Experienced your parents' divorce and watched as your father cut ties and left you and your mother alone to pick yourselves up piece by piece. Lost your virginity to a boy you liked a lot and got your fragile heart broken by him after.

Not everything from that summer was bad -- you just don't like thinking about it a lot. There were good times and new experiences; yet the memories of you and Rindou will forever over-shine them and it always gets so awful that you'd prefer not to think about it so often because it only does nothing but makes your heart ache whenever you're reminded of that day and the day after.

A random afternoon in July and the two of you are spending the day kissing each other stupid in his childhood home. Rindou tastes like peppermint and tobacco and you cannot get enough of his lips -- so you keep on kissing him until your lips are tired and sore and he decides to pause for a moment to look into your ocean eyes.

You both come from a small town located in Kanagawa Prefecture. The people living there are warm like summer and were never cold like the winter; families care for each other as their own and that's also how you've come to know these two boys.

You grew up with the two sons of Mr and Mrs Haitani -- just born a year after their youngest and you follow them everywhere they go; from watching them play basketball at the park to climbing rooftops together of random shop lots in town.

One particular activity you enjoy doing with them is having competitions on picking mandarins at the nearby orchard, and you will always hold those moments dear to your heart despite everything else -- because you were never good at picking mandarins but there will always be Rindou beside you sneakily throwing in a couple extras in your basket when the time's running out and Ran is loudly boasting about his basket full of the citrus. And you'll look into Rindou's and notice there isn't anything inside, because what was once in there were now in yours and he ends up having to clean Ran's room for a week as his punishment for not getting any. And the two of you will meet eyes when the older boy isn't looking -- he'll fist bump you, "I got'chu," with a bright, handsome grin and you'll always blush in return.

The boys left for Tokyo as soon as they turned 14 and 15 and they seldom come back home for visits. You don't see them a lot, just during the summer when they spend a few weeks over with dyed hairs and different piercings and when it happens you always get so happy because you get to leave their house after with a few gentle kisses snuck to you in the kitchen while your families are busy chatting on the dinner table.

This summer, you're 19 and Rindou will be turning 20 soon. Ran had just turned 21 in May and it makes you feel a bit sad when you think about it -- the three of you used to hang out every day while fooling around at the park and talking about the future and now all of a sudden they're in their 20s and you don't talk a lot.

The brothers are spending the holiday back home and when the news broke you immediately ran over to their house, your flip flops loud against the tar road and the boys hear you before they see you. You hug Rindou first, Ran next and the older boy says he got you something and you grin brightly at his words. Rindou tugged you behind when he made sure Ran is walking ahead and is not going to look back and he kissed your rosy cheek as a greeting. You giggled into his back and he simply pulled you along by hooking pinkies and he'd only let you go when his parents were in sight.

Then on, you stop by whenever your hands are free and you always bring something with you whenever you visit -- their mother has always loved a good gift and it never fails to have your heart warm and flutter when she pulls you close and kisses your cheek for your sweetness. You brought watermelons today -- Grandpa got a good deal from a family friend and said to take some along and give it to the Haitanis when you go.

Two empty cans of Asahi and neatly cut triangles of the fruit sits in a porcelain plate on Rindou's desk, all left untouched and soggy because neither of you thinks that watermelon is sweeter than each other's lips.

And they're chasing each other -- yours and his. Red, swollen, and a bit purple too from the teasing bites and harsh sucks you give to each other, but you don't seem to care and he pulls you close to his face again to sigh dreamily into your mouth when you sit on him just right.

If his mother were to come up here and ask for the plate back, you're sure she'd scream and yell and hit the both of you when she finally finds out what the hell is actually going on with her youngest and the girl living down the street who have been hiding in his bedroom with the door locked all day. You figure it'd be considered filthy -- you're sitting on top of Rindou who so obviously has a very difficult boner that's needs to be taken care of and you're grinding your hips on it slowly.

He moans when you press down harder and his hands fly down to your waist and he grips your meat tight. He holds and keeps you there and he rests his head on your shoulder.

You think it's a bit complicated between you and him. It's not like you're dating. You're nothing like a boyfriend and girlfriend relationship -- you've never had that talk before. You've never confessed your feelings either. And yet he treats you so differently than he does to the other girl living down the street -- Himeko, who have always treated him nicer than usual. She's nice to Ran, she's nice to you, but she is so much nicer to Rindou and it makes you see red sometimes whenever you spot them both standing in an alleyway and she passes him a bento box she prepared that morning or some handmade keychains she learnt at a workshop in school.

But Rindou will reject them every single time and you'll always get giddy when he walks over to you and ruffles your hair. "Let's go." And he pushes you forward with a hand pinching your nape.

Rindou sends you a gift every spring without miss and he writes you letters sometimes because you've told him before that you don't use the Internet often. There will always be a few snacks and keychains attached in the parcel; sometimes it's box and sometimes it's a big brown envelope. It depends on what he sends but big or small, you don't mind. You don't care. Because they're from him -- the letters are handwritten, gifts are handpicked and his hard-earned money were spent. It is all that matters.

You hide and kiss each other behind doors or when you think people aren't looking. You were 15 when you gave him your first kiss in your bedroom after you both had a little bit too much of his father's stolen beer to drink but he tells you he doesn't regret it the next day. You shook your head with a smile and said that it was never a mistake. You're not too sure if the kiss was his first too, but you remember that he was blushy when he inched closer to your lips and stamped a firm kiss on it. Rindou was 16 when he kissed you for the first time and you always hold it dear to your heart.

Since then, Rindou kisses you whenever he can and you always return it while pressing a thumb into his bicep as affection -- he's told you once he doesn't like it when people touch him there because he is training but he never pushes you away when you do it. Instead, he smirks and wraps a hand behind your neck.

Rindou never does those things to Himeko; he only does them to you.

And it makes you feel so special even though you've never established anything -- you're not exclusive. But he always holds your hand when he walks you home after waiting for you to finish summer school and he carries your bag on one shoulder while your swing your hands back and forth.

You're straddling his lap and Rindou lips part to say something but you're feeling a bit cheeky. You feel like teasing him because he's got a stupid smirk on his face. So you jerk your hip forward just a little and he moans. All the smugness on his handsome face disappears and a mouth-opened moan breaks through his lips so loud you had to clamp a hand over it to make sure his pretty noise doesn't travel any further -- you definitely don't want anybody to be catching the two of you like this right now.

He rests his head on the headboard and half-lidded eyes peer at you. He sticks his tongue out to lick your palm and you wipe it on his shirt with a scowl and he laughs. You're busy getting his saliva off your hand and he takes the chance to admire you -- his pretty girl who he thinks is so sexy right now with a strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder and the hem of it run up beneath her breasts, bun loose and stray hairs framing her pretty face.

And despite the rough and brave demeanour he presents to all the people who aren't you, Rindou is nothing but putty in your arms when he slides sneaky hands under your tank top and squeezes your mounds. You're shy when he fondles them like stress balls and you gasp when he pushes them up a little and squeeze even harder.

Rindou feels as though he's falling in love with you all over again.

But he doesn't tell you that.

Instead, he dips both thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and he pushes it down. He's blushing when the red of your lace is exposed and you're bold when you reach for the condom on his nightstand and put it to his mouth. He takes it as a cue to bite down on the packaging and rips it open. It's torn and you see the condom inside, but you don't take it out -- not yet.

A hand moves down to his exposed dick and your touch is electric when your pointer grazes along the vein running up to his angry tip and it turns dangerous when you wrap your hand around and give it a few pumps and strokes. He moans at the stimulation and pre-cum leaks from the slit and rolls down his shaft.

You think his dick looks so pretty.

You finally let go when you're satisfied at teasing him to take the rubber out with shaky hands and he watches with cloudy eyes as you roll it down his thick length. You drooled a little when you first saw it -- it's big and long and thick and you weren't sure if it was gonna fit. But he kisses your concern away and tells you to trust him -- and you trust him the most -- so you do. And you believe him when he tells you it wouldn't hurt so bad if you relax and let him do all the work.

And it didn't. It really didn't hurt at all when he pushes it in -- just a bit breath-knocking when he bottoms out and you whine into his ear that it feels good when he moves his hips like that. Rindou continues fucking you that way until you feel something funny bubble up in your abdomen -- you've touched yourself before and you're sure every other girl of your age has, but you've never felt anything like this while doing that and it makes you panic a little when it gets stronger and you doubt you can take it anymore.

"R-Rin, feels weird." Your mouth is ajar with soft gasps escaping and you tilt your head back on the soft pillow. He slows down a little to observe your body and control his strength to make sure you're not in pain, that he's not hurting you, but when he sees the pretty look on your face he smiles a little and continues. You roll your eyes back and grip his shoulder tight, nails digging into his skin and he hisses at the sting.

"Got'chu, pretty."

And you let everything go at it. Your thighs feels sticky and wet and you're so tired but you don't care because it felt so good -- he felt so good.

Rindou takes you in his bed again and again that afternoon; bending your bodies in different positions and kissing your lips so sweetly until there's not a single coherent thought going through your brain despite it being your first time because you think it was so magical. He made you feel so good and you know you want to do it with him again. So you don't stop until you're all spent and he loses it -- and by that he means moaning uncontrollably until his mother gets up to knock on the door and ask what is happening inside.

(She doesn't find out.)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

You sit with him side by side on a bench at the park later that evening after getting cleaned and sneaking out through his window. You're holding a plastic bowl of kakigori in your hands and he's sipping on another can of Asahi despite you telling him to knock it off -- alcohol is bad and he'll become addicted (you say that as if you don't drink as well) but he simply wraps an arm around your frame and forces your head to rest on his shoulder. "I'll be fine." He smirks and you smack his thigh as a warning.

A bunch of young children are running around the playground, chasing each other and giggling happily while you kick your feet in the air and feed yourself another spoon of the sweetened shaved ice. Rindou crushes the now empty can and aims it to the nearby bin -- it circles around the mouth and slowly, it lands to the bottom with a clang and he claps with a cheer.

You knee his butt with a laugh and he bends to pick a wild flower from the bush. "Did Waseda reply?" He asks in a soft voice while dusting dirt off the petals and shuffle closer to you. You lick the spoon clean and blink dumbly when a hand reaches up to tuck your hair away and slot the flower on your ear. He adjusts it with a smile and he thinks you look real pretty like this. "No. Not yet." You reply, a bit stunned from his actions and you grin when he ruffles your hair. "Todai replied, though. But I wanna make sure I have all my options laid out first." And he listens as you continue to ramble about the other letters of acceptance you've received so far.

"I hope I don't make the wrong choice. Can't imagine losing myself studying something I don't like or at a place I don't find peace in."

"You won't."

He lifts your chin with two fingers.

"Look up."

Instead of the bright orange sun and pretty sunset in the sky, all you see is a camera pointed at your face and the next thing you hear is a loud click.

"Hey!" You smack his elbow with an angry red blush and he cackles while shoving the camera back into his pocket. "What? You're pretty. Wanna look at you forever."

"'M not." You fix your hair out of embarrassment from his praise while making sure the flower is in place -- he gave it to you and you don't wanna lose it. It's a pretty one too. "You are. You're the prettiest girl in the world." Rindou says it loudly and you pout when a lady walks past while looking at the two of you with judgemental eyes. But he ignores her and he makes you ignore her too when he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, hands snaking around your neck and your eyelids flutter at his gentleness. You wrap yourself around him when you stand up, the plastic in your hands tossed at the ground to engulf him in a bear hug. He blushes when he feels your boobs press against his chest but you press your lips on his neck, feeling his quick pulse against them and he thinks he feels a bit more normal now.

"I never wanna lose you." He murmurs it to your ear and your heart tightens a little at it. But you hear some kind of hidden message in his words and you rub his back.

". . . My money is tight, so Tokyo isn't confirmed. Waseda and the others are just options. I also applied to the community college just in case. And you leave tomorrow. If things don't go as planned and I don't go to Tokyo, I'll have to wait another year to see you." Your lips wobble a little when you say it. Waiting for Rindou to come back home every summer was never easy and you can only count on the letters and merch he sends for you to feel closer to his heart.

". . . I'm staying here another week. Ran is going back alone tomorrow." You loosen your grip on him and look up into his eyes to search for any lies and uncertainty in them -- but all you see is sincerity and warmth and love. There's a certain look on his face that you can't decipher, though. You don't know what it means and what he really wants to say but you choose to brush it off when you're reminded that he called you a pretty girl and cup his cheeks with a grin.

"Really?" "Yeah." "Stay the night then. Ma won't know if we're quiet." "'Kay."

Ran stands behind the two of you under a tree and watches with betrayed eyes as you kiss and hug each other under the 6pm sun. He stares down at the taiyaki in his hand and angrily dumps it away in a bin. Ran knew you liked taiyaki. But Ran never knew that you liked Rindou more. And he walks away with that newfound knowledge as a long and sharp knife to his chest.

"Idiot Rin." Ran scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "So much for saying you don't like her. Where does that fuckin' leave me?" He tuts and doesn't look at where he's going because he bumps into Himeko on the way back. He looks at her and notice that she's crying, face red with tears running down her cheeks and she brings an angry fist up to hit Ran on the shoulder. "Didn't you like her? Why is she with Rindou?" She yells and pokes a finger into his chest and Ran doesn't push her away. He doesn't call her names when she starts getting violent by kicking his leg. Instead, he lets Himeko release all her anger on him and he can only bite his lip and look up at the orange sky. ". . . Beats me, 'Hime."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

You wake up at 2 in the afternoon the next day, head throbbing from a migraine and you pat on the area beside. It suddenly comes to you that Rindou isn't beside you in your bed. Though it makes sense, because it is halfway through the day and Rindou has always been a morning person.

But when you look around your room you realise that his stuff is all gone -- the Nirvana t-shirt that was hanging on the wall last night is not there. His metal glasses isn't on your nightstand. You don't smell his cologne in the air. There are no traces of him in your bedroom and you grow confused.

So you trot down the stairs with sore legs and cover your neck with your hands to ask your mother if she's seen him or Ran around. But she simply shakes her head and says that Ran took the first train back to Tokyo alone early in the morning. "Ran dropped by to say farewell. And he also left you something, it's on the table." She nods to the coffee table and you see a box on it. It's a bit big but you nod and look back at her.

"I didn't see Rindou, though. I asked Ran about him earlier and he said that Rindou will be gone for quite some time after this visit. I don't know what he meant by that but the boy looked sad when he said it. Maybe Rindou's already went back to Tokyo, I don't know. Or maybe he won't be coming back here anymore. Beats me. But I wish him the best, though. He's always been a bright kid with a bright future."

You run back to your room before your mother can finish her words and you call Rindou's number. You press the phone to your ear with shaky hands and it goes straight to voicemail. You dial his number again and again and pull at your hair when he doesn't pick up. So you spit it to his voicemail to go fuck himself for leaving you. You tell him that you never want to believe him anymore for lying to you. You cry that you are a fool for loving him. You love him. You loved him. "Don't ever let me see you again, Rindou." And you throw your phone at the wall angrily.

26 July 2008. Rindou was gone.

You went from seeing him every day to waiting for him to come home every summer and to not seeing him ever again.

And you laugh to yourself whenever your intoxicated mind travels back to the moment of you and Rindou in the park 7 years ago now that you're 26 and a working adult living alone in Tokyo. You don't bump into any of the brothers in the city. You lose contact with both and also Himeko.

Summer of 2008 is bittersweet.

And you weren't the only one who felt that way.

٩ ˊᗜˋ reblogs are appreciated & thank you for reading <3

#r1988 #橘 series #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tr #ran x reader #haitani ran #rindou smut #tokyo revengers smut

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readyforevolution · 11 months

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IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW THIS YESTERDAY THEN TODAY WOULD BE A GOOD DAY TO LEARN THIS.... "All stories don't have a happy ending"

In 1866, one year after the 13 Amendment was ratified (the amendment that ended slavery), Alabama, Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, Georgia, Mississippi, Florida, Tennessee, and South Carolina began to lease out convicts for labor (peonage). This made the business of arresting Blacks very lucrative, which is why hundreds of White men were hired by these states as police officers. Their primary responsibility was to search out and arrest Blacks who were in violation of Black Codes. Once arrested, these men, women and children would be leased to plantations where they would harvest cotton, tobacco, sugar cane. Or they would be leased to work at coal mines, or railroad companies. The owners of these businesses would pay the state for every prisoner who worked for them; prison labor.

It is believed that after the passing of the 13th Amendment, more than 800,000 Blacks were part of the system of peonage, or re-enslavement through the prison system. Peonage didn’t end until after World War II began, around 1940.

This is how it happened.

The 13th Amendment declared that "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction." (Ratified in 1865)

Did you catch that? It says, “neither slavery nor involuntary servitude could occur except as a punishment for a crime". Lawmakers used this phrase to make petty offenses crimes. When Blacks were found guilty of committing these crimes, they were imprisoned and then leased out to the same businesses that lost slaves after the passing of the 13th Amendment. This system of convict labor is called peonage.

The majority of White Southern farmers and business owners hated the 13th Amendment because it took away slave labor. As a way to appease them, the federal government turned a blind eye when southern states used this clause in the 13th Amendment to establish laws called Black Codes. Here are some examples of Black Codes:

In Louisiana, it was illegal for a Black man to preach to Black congregations without special permission in writing from the president of the police. If caught, he could be arrested and fined. If he could not pay the fines, which were unbelievably high, he would be forced to work for an individual, or go to jail or prison where he would work until his debt was paid off.

If a Black person did not have a job, he or she could be arrested and imprisoned on the charge of vagrancy or loitering.

This next Black Code will make you cringe. In South Carolina, if the parent of a Black child was considered vagrant, the judicial system allowed the police and/or other government agencies to “apprentice” the child to an "employer". Males could be held until the age of 21, and females could be held until they were 18. Their owner had the legal right to inflict punishment on the child for disobedience, and to recapture them if they ran away.

This (peonage) is an example of systemic racism - Racism established and perpetuated by government systems. Slavery was made legal by the U.S. Government. Segregation, Black Codes, Jim Crow and peonage were all made legal by the government, and upheld by the judicial system. These acts of racism were built into the system, which is where the term “Systemic Racism” is derived.

This is the part of "Black History" that most of us were never told about.

#blacktumblr #us prisons #13th amendment #prison system #black history #black liberation

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dropout-if · 7 months

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Dropout Customization

Due to some questions about MC customization, I have decided to compile all the physical and personality aspects that are selectable about the Dropout.

A reminder that this is all subject to change and that new things may be added (or deleted). Feedback and ideas to further develop MC are encouraged.

Main Ideas

Name Surname Nickname

Sex, Gender, Pronouns (it's possible to customise them), Breast/Pecs, Penis/Vagina (If MC is transgender, their transition takes place while they're away) Title (Ms. / Mr. / Mx.)

Virginity or lack thereof.

If MC is trans (when they realized about it [high school, middle school, college] and if they told their family // the ROs already know, as MC told Uma and J, and word spread).

Birthday which establishes the Dropout's age as either 21 or 22 depending on the season (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter)

Major (Engineering, Biology, Chemistry, Computer science, Law, Economics, Education (in relation to science/maths/etc), Mathematics, Physics, Psychology). The Dropout's Major affects flavor text. These options are the ones approved by the Dropout's parents, though it's possible for MC to express interest in other degrees/topics (music, art, English, anthropology, archeology, classical studies, history).

Reason behind dropping out (MC got kicked out (they were caught cheating) MC didn't get a high enough GPA and dropped out / MC never even wanted to go to college and ultimately decided they wanted out / MC didn't fit in (they were discriminated, lonely, etc) though they really liked college / MC originally liked their degree and college but gradually lost interest in the entire thing / MC never liked their degree and decided to drop out / Something specifically related to mental health (mainly anxiety) / Impostor's syndrome.) This affects flavor text.

2 Coping Mechanisms (Alcohol, Tobacco, Drugs, Sleeping around, Avoidance, Overspending, Humor, *Hobby (overworking self) [Anger, Fake/forced happiness, Sadness, Indifference].) Each coping mechanism opens a variable and a storyline. You can choose two, though choosing one related to emotional responses [between brackets] automatically blocks out the others.

2 Hobbies (Singing, playing an instrument, songwriting, creative writing, drawing, sketching, sculpting, acting, photography, soccer, football, swimming, basketball, gymnastics, boxing, judo, karate, taekwondo, kickboxing, going to the gym, cooking/baking, dancing [ballet, contemporary dance, modern], yoga.) This affects flavor text and scenes.

Job (Bartender [Wanda, Statler is also around often], Cashier [Statler], Columnist [J (+Kai if poly)], Caregiver [Kai], Waiter/Waitress [Uma (+Travis if poly)], Tutor [Travis]) Each job gives you more time with a certain RO, as well as unlocking a storyline.

Personality Stats

Playful/Serious Honest/Dishonest Friendly/Rude Introverted/Extroverted Laid-back/Uptight Cynical/Idealistic Flirty/Reserved Family oriented/Individualistic

Others: Insomnia, Migraines

Physical Appearance

*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.

Height (very tall, talk, average, short, very short)

Skin tone (ebony, dark brown, light brown, russet, golden, olive, honey, tawny, tanned, fair, rosy, ivory.) Choosing any skin tone gives you the possibility of choosing to be a poc (idea I stole from Mila, @beyondthegame)

*Build (scrawny, skinny, lithe, lean, muscular, chubby, curvy, hourglass).

*Hair color (max 3 tones, 1 base and other 2) (possible to return home with a mess of dye for Maude to fix. NATURAL (Ashen blonde, Sunflower blonde, Strawberry blonde, Caramel, Honey brown, Chocolate brown, Copper, Auburn, Ruby red, Midnight brown, Jet black, Ebony black) NON-NATURAL (Pink, Violet, Lilac, Blue jade, Vermilion red, Snowy white, Silver, Emerald green, Canary yellow, Bleached).

Hair texture (kinky, very coiled, coiled, curly, wavy, slightly wavy, straight)

*Hair length (ear-length, chin-length, shoulder-length, below shoulder-length, chest-length, waist-length)

*Hair style (SHORT/MEDIUM: natural, side-parted, mullet, layered, bob, ponytail, twin ponytails, buzz fade, slick back, messy, wolf cut, bun. LONG: natural, high/low ponytail, messy, shaggy, California waves, a half updo, side-swept, bun, braid, twin braids, twin ponytails).

*Eye color (albino red, dark blue, light blue, dark green, light green, hazel, amber, chestnut brown, chocolate brown, black, grey).

Others

*It's possible to choose MC's appearance as a high schooler as well. This affects flavor text.

*Glasses (yes, no, contacts)

*Facial hair (No/shaved. Stubble, full beard, goatee, ducktail,van dyke, garibaldi, mustache, soul patch, light beard).

Scars, can choose as many as possible (Back, chest, abdomen, upper and lower arm, thigh, knees, calf, mouth area, neck, cheek, hands, eye area, shoulder)

*Tattoos (One big in X body area, patch-like bodysuit, bodysuit, one/two sleeves, just legs, a few tattoos all over, a small in X place).

*Piercings (Ears [helix, lobe, industrial], navel, tongue, nose ring and septum, eyebrow, lips, smiley, nipples, genital)

Dimples

Braces

Freckles (face, body, both)

Beauty mark, multiple (under eye, over lip, neck, body)

*Outfit/Style (streetwear, alternative, cute, preppy, casual, formal, business casual, dark academia, messy, boho/eclectic, comfortable)

*Bedroom, at family home and at new apartment (messy, colorful, emo, basic, boho, modern, industrial, vintage, minimalist, cute)

*Diet (vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, keto, meat-eater, lactose intolerant)

Family pet (small/large dog, cat, fish tank, hamster/rabbit/guinea pig, cockatiel/parrot/canaries)

Characters

Closeness to all family members (tight-knit, close, so-so, cold, barely any relationship)

Same with the friend group

Crush on Statler during high school (yes/no)

'Popularity' during high school and college (popular, social butterfly [got along with many people but wasn't part of the popular groups], normal, loner, outcast [somewhat antagonistic in a way/rebel].)

#dropout if #dropout #cog wip #cog #choice script #hosted games #interactive fiction wip #interactive fiction #mc #gameplay

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nikkistradlinhemmings · 4 months

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Dream girl// Izzy stradlin smut, part one<3

-Female y/n-

(Part two - https://www.tumblr.com/nikkistradlinhemmings/738058350804287488/dream-girl-izzy-stradlin-part-two )

(Sorry if there are any mistakes, I have not yet properly proofread)

Warnings: P & V sex, losing virginity, oral sex, fingering, submissive, dirty talk, smoking, swearing, alcohol, partying, etc….

Summary: Izzy had a really realistic dream of a fellow famous rockstar daughter. He tried to find her and bumps into her at her house party.

Izzy sat himself at the bar in the rainbow, on the strip, he ordered him self a drink, he thought to light a cigarette, he pulled out his pack, and placed one in his mouth, slightly hanging form his lips as he panicked looking though his pocket in his leather jacket to fine his lighter. Which he did not have. He let out a sigh…

Her turned to his left and saw a gorgeous girl sitting there.

“Hey miss you got a lighter?” He asked him his raspy voice, “oh uhh yeah here” she said handing him her lighter, he slightly took it from her and lights his cigarette. He blows smoke into the air that smells of ash and tobacco. “I’m y/n by the way” she said trying to be nice and friendly.

Izzy smiles at her, he has dimple on his cheeks too. he blows out one more puff of smoke as he lowers his cigarette from his lips "Nice to meet you, y/n. You come here often?" “Eh not really” Izzy notices her demeanour and smiles at her, taking another puff of smoke “You a drinkin' kind of girl?" “More of a whisky girl myself”

"Yeah, same here. Bartender? Bring me and the pretty lady a whiskey each" Izzy orders the drinks for them both as he leans on the bar, looking her up and down as he talks to her. The bartender comes back with your drinks and passes it to them both. The bar is somewhat loud as they both get their glass to drink from, the crowd of people seems to be dancing and smiling as y/n both take a sip from their drinks. After a few seconds, Izzy looks y/n in the eyes and says

"You know, I like you. We should grab a table and have a good conversation."

“Alright” she said agreeing with him. Izzy takes her by the hand to one of the free tables in the corner of the bar. He takes a seat opposite to y/n, and slides a little closer to her as she take another sip from her drink. He looks at y/n as y/n look at him, and then he leans over and places his hand on her thigh. “You know I caught ur name” she said breaking the silence. “I never threw it” he said shrugging his right shoulder. “Oh. Cliche.” She said joking with him.

Izzy gives you a sly smile as he leans forward more. "Oh, forgive me. I'm Izzy Stradlin. Rhythm guitarist for gun n rose and..." his hand moves up her thigh a little bit further while he's still speaking but he pauses when he notices she flinch. Izzy pulls his hand away as soon as he takes notice of her reaction to his touch. He pulls back for a second and then laughs softly

"Hey, my apologies. You must get lots of guys hitting on you all of the time, huh?" “Oh yeah a lot of rockstars… wait you said guns n’ roses… right?”Izzy smiles as he nods his head at y/n, "Yes, that's right! I play rhythm guitar for gun n roses" “I think you played a show with my dad” she said lighting her own cigarette.

Izzy perks up with excitement in his voice "Wait... who's your father?” “Steven Tyler, from Aerosmith…” y/n said taking a drag from her cigarette then a sip of her whisky. Izzy's eyes get wide as he realizes that she is saying Steven Tyler, the lead singer of Aerosmith is her father.

"You're Steven Tyler's daughter?" “Live in the flesh, any way how old are you Mr stradlin” she said lightly laughing. Izzy laughs as he sips from his drink. "Call me Izzy, please. And I'm 25 years old". He pauses for a second and then smiles at you as he starts to speak again. "Tell me, how old are you, dear?" “21, and imma call ya Mr stradlin deal with it” she continues to laugh. He laughs one more time before taking a sip of his drink, “alright miss Tyler… I’ll deal with it. So you’re 21 yeah? I thought someone as young and beautiful as yourself would need to have a group of friends around, you know parties, dancing?” He said wondering about her and her personality.

“Young? You’re like 4 years older than me” she said with a surprise look in her face from him calling her young… Izzy laughs as he shakes his head

"Come on, darling, when you're in your 20's, 4 years feels like 10 years. You're still so young and full of energy when you're in your 21, you would never stop dancing and singing the whole night with your friends."

“Nah fuck that, I’d rather stay home and play guitar and make music you know?” She said siping from her drink. Izzy pauses for a few seconds before smiling at y/n.

"I get it now.... Your father being in Aerosmith and everything. You play rock music too, don't you?"

“Ding, ding, ding!” She said slightly being sarcastic. Izzy laughed finding her amusing and never feeling like that with anyone..

"So I'm talking to someone with the same passion I have in music. This is quite a nice surprise for me tonight". he nods his head and smiles. “Yeah you normally talk and fuck groupies right?” Izzy laughs as she make that comment. "Is that what you think? What makes you say that?” “Ur hot and you obviously have groupies don’t even lie”. Y/n said looking at him up and down admitting that he was hot, cos it was the truth.

He leans forward and slightly whispers…“Can I tell you a secret y/n?” “Go for it” she said tilting her head to the side. Izzy leans in close to y/n and whispers this into her ear..

"If you allow me to, I'd much rather spend this evening talking with someone as interesting and beautiful as you, than talking to any women that only care about my celebrity status" Izzy puts his hand on herthigh, slowing moving up and smiles at her. "Say, what do you say we leave this bar and go somewhere more private? It's a little loud here"

She lifted her left eyebrow as she processed what he said. “You know I’m not gonna fuck you izzy, I’m not like that” she said looking away from him. Izzy's smile turns to a frown the minute he heard her words, Izzy sighs a little bit, he takes his hand off your thigh and leans back in his seat. He sips his drink for a few seconds, staring at you for a few seconds. "Look, I respect that. But, is it so wrong to have a little bit of fun every once in a while?" Y/n huffs at him in frustration. “Izzy I’m a 21 year old virgin, I have turned down a lot of rockstar ur not gonna be the last” Izzy was a bit shocked to find out a pretty gorgeous girl like y/n was a 21 year old virgin. But izzy smiles as he laughs

"I'm just trying to figure out what would impress you. Because if you're saying my charms, status, or talents won't work. I'm genuinely confused on what would get me to your heart." Y/n laughs at him, “why me tho?” She asked butting out her cigarette, lzzy gets a bit quiet as he takes this question to heart. "I see someone like you, who is very independent and someone who can stand up for herself. What I see in you is someone who is willing to fight for what they want and who can stand their ground. Those are traits that I really admire. As I'm sure you've noticed, most women fall over for me just by looking at me. When I see you, there's something more to you.. something inside that's really attractive."

She raises her eyebrows at him in not believing him… lzzy can tell she is very skeptical about him, because he's clearly a rockstar and women have fallen head over heels for him in the past. But there's something about him that seems genuine.

"I may be charming, I may be good looking, but I really mean what I say. I'm interested in you, and I want to get to know you better. If you'll let me…..I'm also very curious to know why you've shut down every other rock star who's come onto you." “Honestly I haven’t found the one, you know it’s just hard you know” she said being completely honest and shrugging her shoulders.

Izzy chuckles a little bit and nods his head

“I know what you mean. I find it difficult as well, to not let the fame and success of being a rock star get into me and ruin any chance I have of connecting with someone who is interested in me because of me, and not just my persona"

She nodded her head to show that she was listening and agreed with him. “Yeah exactly”. Izzy smiles as he leans in a bit closer "Well, maybe you should give this rockstar a chance, hm? Because for me, you don't seem like the kind of girl that I want to just be with casually, no offence. You're a special kind of girl to me."

“Hmm Izzy let’s get one things straight, okay?” Her voice had a hint of sternness. He just nodded and raised his eyebrows. “I’m not gonna fuck you, I’m not a groupie I’m not one girl you can fuck and never talk to again, I’m more of the relationship type of girl, if you want me you have me for a very long long time, understand!?”

she was very stern, he could tell she was being serious. Izzy was taken aback by this sudden outburst of emotions. He didn't say anything at first as he looked at her, he wasn't used to being talked to this way and actually enjoyed the sternness she had. It made him want her more.

"That's completely understandable, and frankly I'd be more surprised if you were that kind of girl. But I'm curious about one thing. Just why are you so willing to be in a long-term relationship with someone who you just met? Why would you want that with me?" “Well Izzy I’m not gonna lie, you are very attractive but in general” she said as she nodded understanding what her point was…

“May I please ask you a question miss tyler?” “Yes” “is there a chance I could get at least one kiss from you, right now? You don’t have to answer tho” he leans back in his seat and making eye contact with her. “Why?” She said tilting her head to the side again.

Izzy pauses for a beat before he replies "Honestly, because I really like you. I like to think I can read the body language of women. There is a connection here, and I think this feeling may be mutual. Your beauty is distracting, and I can't help but want to kiss you right now." “Will it make you shut up?” Izzy chuckles and responds. "If you're asking me if I'll shut up if you give me one kiss, I'd be lying if I said yes. I'd want more from you if you gave me one kiss. But maybe we should start with one kiss and see how it goes from there?"

Y/n leans over the table and grabs his shirt and pulls him closer, Izzy is taken by surprise at how she approach him and take control, making him lean closer to her. Y/ns beauty is truly distracting, and he's not able to keep his eyes off her.It's hard to even breathe when you're this close. erini makes eye contact, her face in inches away from his, izzy looks back at you, your eyes are so captivating.

Their lips are so close together, the anticipation is rising. Izzy's hands lightly grab your waist and start to pull you in for the kiss.. Izzy's eyes have now closed, and their lips are so close together. Their breaths are now mixed together, Izzy is losing control of himself from the heat of the moment.

There is no doubt they both wanted this moment. The kiss is filled with passion and desire. The feeling of her lips against his is sending electricity throughout Izzy’s body it feels amazing. There is no hesitation at all between them, as the kiss goes on for a good few seconds before she then pull away from him.

“Izzy?” She said breaking the kiss and making eye contact with him.

Izzy's eyes have now locked onto hers, he is taking this very seriously and it's clear he wants to go farther than just kissing. He whispers into her ear.

"Please, tell me what you're thinking right now. You can be honest with me, I won't judge you for how you're feeling right now."

“I’m thinking you should wake up… wake up Izzy” she said being dead serious. “W-what?”

Izzy slowly wakes up from his dream, he sat up quickly and realized he was back in his room. The dream felt extremely real, but he quickly realized that it was just that… a dream. His mind then started to think about who he was dreaming about. A very stunning woman, he couldn't even remember her name. Did she even exist? or was she his imagination…

#izzy stradlin #guns n roses #izzystradlin #Izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin smut #guns n roses smut #80s music #rock music #80s rock #izzy gnr #slash gnr #slash #smut #guns n roses x reader #gnr reader

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kooktrash · 2 years

Text

lover’s revenge | kim taehyung ROCKSTAR AU

summary | you dated Taehyung before he made it big, so it was easy to assume he’d forgotten all about you. but for the past two years you’ve been his muse even after your split. a forbidden love that never faded.

warnings | 13.4k words. rockstar!Taehyung x f!reader, BAND AU, smut, angst, bad parenting [your dad hates tae], age gap [18/21, later on 22/25], family problems, break ups, heart ache, mentions of tobacco, smuuut. cock worshipping, cunnilingus, face sitting, oral [m and f], safe sex, soft sex, floor sex, dirty talk but soft,

visuals: Tae’s band plays music like the neighbourhood and cigarettes after sex type shit

2020

He slumped back, hair falling over his face staring at the garage light above him. He was trying his best to listen to his bandmates. They were going on and on about new music, something that'd help them get a deal. He couldn’t be with you anymore, so there was no reason for him to stick around and stall his future. Getting signed was the only way they could see themselves achieving their dreams. He was feeling conflicted though, between wanting to help his bandmates and his feelings.

In reality though he was just scared to bring back old feelings. They weren't even that old, six months that's all he's had to come back to his old self. It was his way of coping actually, repressing his emotions until they no longer bothered him. The first week was the hardest, he couldn't get out of bed or even shower. He couldn't eat and all he wanted to do was sleep, forget everything that had happened. But then anytime he'd go to sleep, his body would ache missing the feeling of someone else in his arms.

The second week it got a littler better. He was responding to his friend's messages again, being more focused on practice, and eating at least one full meal a day. He still aches for your touch but he was able to hide it better behind packs of cigarettes and alcohol late at night. His friends stopped asking him how he was doing and he stopped showing how affected he still was.

As time went on he got better at hiding it. There wouldn’t be any awkward silence when it was his turn to speak, or people walking on egg shells around him. Every now and then when he'd be laughing over something and suddenly he'd struggle to hide his sudden change in emotions. He'd think about your laugh, when you’d laugh so hard that you wouldn't be able to breathe anymore. You would hold your nose, trying to silence yourself from making the screeching noise that came out when you laughed. Or how you’d get cute lines on the side of your eyes. Then he'd think about what made you laugh, and how usually it was because of something you said or did.

So when they asked him to try and write again he was originally distraught. How was he supposed to write songs like how he used to? Writing about love and adolescence but now he couldn't write about that. How was he supposed to write about being in love or feeling happy when he felt the complete opposite.

Anytime he thought about writing he thought about you. How you left him or no, he left you? He could never really understand which but it didn’t matter. He missed your kisses and touches on his skin. The warmth you brought when he'd hold you in his arms late at night after sneaking into your room. Your pretty smile and photogenic features always picture perfect on his cameras. Or their arguments where tears would be running down your face and his voice would become too hoarse because of the constant yelling back and forth.

But he tried writing again, and he couldn't help that all he could write about was you, he just didn't know how much it'd change his life.

It was easier for you, at least during the day. You’d spend all your time studying, paying attention in class, going out with classmates, anything really. If it could distract you long enough to not go through your old pictures, you did it. Your friends didn't ask how you were doing anymore, you were obvious with how you felt. You were better, or at least they thought you were l. Behind your smile you’d find yourself unable to hold back from thinking about him.

How he'd sneak into your room through your window late at night after you would get into a fight, and he'd have the biggest pout on his face trying to butter you up into letting him stay the night after your parents went to sleep, they never liked him. You’d think about how he'd lay on top of you, head rested on your chest as you played with his hair listening to him hum a new sound asking if it was good enough for a song on his mind.

Or when he'd have you sit between his parted legs, arms wrapped around yours, hands holding as he helped you try and find the G on the guitar. He'd kiss your hair when you’d cheer for finally playing something audible even if it was just two simple notes that'd have you giddy between his legs and arms.

It's been six months already, you should be at least a little moved on by now. You’ve started University like your parents wanted. You’ve made new friends, you should be moving on now. You weren’t. He was your first real love. You still thought about him late at night alone in your bedroom. How he used to sneak in and bring snacks so you could eat them on the roof of parent’s house watching the moon and talking about your future together. You were twenty and in love. Had been for two years already. Since you were eighteen, that’s when you met him. He was the cool musician guy working at the record store. He was a couple years older, just 21, but your parents hated him for dropping out of school. It didn’t make you love him any less.

You were trying to get over him though, you’d look whenever your friends would tell you there was a cute guy interested in you, you’d message and hang out in group settings but emotionally you weren’t ready at all. Not when someone would give you a smile and all you could see was Taehyung’s cute little boxy smile. How he'd grin so wide whenever you’d cheer at every band practice.

But it was only six months ago, and you were together two years during your most vulnerable years.

2021

You’d been in the middle of a drive to your friend's house. At first you couldn't recognize the sound, something completely new, but the soft melodic voice began singing. It felt like everything was spinning, it took everything in you not to go down on your brakes and stop the car instantly. The rain thudded against your window, you slowly drove off the main road, parked to the side of the street trying to get a better listen. You could be right, right ?

Turning the music up, you listen carefully to the song playing on the radio.

Kim Taehyung was playing in the radio. He’d made it.

It had been an entire year already, struggling to even think about anything but him for months, like a broken record constantly putting the thought of him in your brain. And on a day where he hadn't crossed your mind yet did the music play. You could spot his voice even if he was muffled by thousands in a heartbeat.

It was too engraved into your brain to forget. How could you forget the gentle voice that used to sing to you on a late night? You’d be in his arms hearing him him lightly feeling the vibrations of his chest as you rested your cheek on it.

The late afternoons by the bridge where the two would sit, bags spread out along with pens and notebooks content with watching you study. His straight posture as he asked you to listen to yet another idea he had, lyrics flowing out in a soft melody each time. You don’t think you could ever forget what his voice sounded like, especially not playing in high volume in the small car of yours.

It was the only thing keeping him from returning to his old ways. He'd spent so much time trying to distract himself with anything possible just so he wouldn't think of you. He'd write about things like your warmth and your future or the past, but it'd always come around about you. About your smile and how it'd make his chest ache each time he was the cause of it. Or the smell of your lavender shampoo stuck in his nose all day after holding you in his arms all night.

And he sang about love, or heartbreak actually. The thought of never finding anyone like you again, and he missed you and wished to hold you in his arms. How it wasn’t your fault you didn’t work out, he didn’t blame you for leaving him. But another second would pass and he'd sing about how he hated you. How he never wanted to see you again and he hoped you weren’t doing well but only because he was angry. Sometimes that he was sorry, that he wished he could be the person your parents had wanted for you. And his songs would become angrier as time went by. They wouldn't be as soft as the one you’d heard in the car.

They wouldn't be about missing you and always loving you but instead about how you hurt him too. How you let your parent’s decide the fate of your relationship. How you didn’t fight hard enough. How you left him behind too. Songs about wanting to break girl’s hearts and get back at them. So the band's image did a huge 180 degrees from the soft love struck image they had to this darker version of rock, smoking, and sex.

The image of what your mother warned you about, turning him into what your parents hated. Almost like it was his own way to express his pain and his change, he wasn't the same boy he once was. Hell always remember what they told him, “You think you’re good enough for our daughter? A dead beat musician who can barely even take care of himself? Y/n is better than you, she always will be and you’re a sorry excuse for a man.” He remembered wanting to tell them off. You were twenty, you could make your own decisions. They acted like it was wrong for them to be together.

Your phone rang, you struggled to find the want to get back on the road and leave to your friend’s house. Digging around the console you found it, pushing it to your ear and lowering the volume of his singing voice to answer.

"Hello?" You said through the phone, holding it between your cheek and shoulder as you turned your signal light on and motioned to try and swerve into the lane.

"How are you?" You stopped, car honking behind you as you pulled back into your lane. The voice from the radio speaking softly through the end of your phone. "Y/n?"

Without thinking, you hung up, chucking the phone onto the empty passenger's side, biting your lip nervously as you finally got back on the road. There was nothing to come out from receiving a call from him. You couldn't even find it in you to answer. As much as you wanted to talk to him you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You’d want to crawl back into his arms like before and forget everything that has happened since then.

But he was still confused, holding the phone in his hand looking down at the blank screen with a tight jaw. His fingers tightened around the device, inhaling slowly as his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. He threw the phone on the bench, standing up and hiding his face in his hands.

He was an idiot to think you’d care about their debut. To think that maybe if he snuck off from practice to smoke a cigarette and call you, you’d actually stick around and hear him out. At least he knew he wasn't blocked, but he couldn't tell if that was for better or worse. You answered, you knew who he was, if you didn't you wouldn't have hung up on him so quickly.

2022

It was almost taunting you, his image staring back at you like you were still the only two people in the world. That wasn't the case though, and you’ve no reason to really be upset but you were. He was off living his dream, doing what he's always done and you felt bitter about it. The image of him smiling widely with his arm around his bandmates like he was the happiest kid in the world. The woman on his side fitting the image of the group perfectly. You wanted to blame him for leaving you behind but you couldn’t. He didn’t leave you behind, you left each other. No one was more at fault than the other but fuck did it hurt.

You didn’t care about his fame other than that you were happy for him. It’s what he’d always wanted and you’d gotten in the way of it for too long. That’s why when he called you after their debut you didn’t say anything. He had to live his life and you had to go live yours.

“You have to!” He whined dragging you along behind him, “The place just opened and we’re lucky to even get in tonight. Namjoon got us early admission since BTS is performing!”

You looked to Jimin, a pout on his face as he yanked you along. He couldn’t understand what the big deal was. You were his close friend and you couldn’t even spend his own birthday with him? Like come on, he can’t even understand what was the problem all of a sudden. How was he supposed to know that you did not want to see the band BTS perform? They were his favorite band! He didn’t know you had pictures of you with the lead singer from years before? His arm thrown around you, lips pressed against your cheek, large smile on your face.

“Fine, we’re here anyway,” you let him drag you to where your other friends stood waiting for you, “I’ve never met a birthday boy who plans his own birthday. Come on!”

A smile spread across your face as you went to your friends. It’s fine. By the looks of the line, the new club will be packed especially with the band performing tonight. Apparently close friends with the club owner, Kim Seokjin. “It’s my fucking birthday!” Was the first thing Jimin shouted when you all made it in.

You kept to his side, hiding a little. You couldn’t risk being seen even if the chances were slim. He probably wouldn’t even recognize you. Your hair was different, your style was different. You weren’t the same person he was with. Plus, he was a big time celeb now, he probably had more things to do than worry about his ex girlfriend he dated when he was younger. Maybe you were just being super conceited thinking he’d still think about you every now and then. Or hopeful, maybe.

“Let’s go get him a drink,” Namjoon told you and you nodded. You looked to your friends who surrounded Jimin taking orders before you left. Namjoon was a close friend of yours, they bother we’re actually. Jimin and Namjoon were both your seniors in college until they graduated. Jimin had a shared requisite course with you and that’s how you met. Namjoon was part of a tutoring program and he became your friend through that. The other such as Jieun, Heein, and Yuna you roomed with them in college before you moved out. You don’t talk to anyone from before going to the University and maybe it was for the better.

“I’ve still never met anyone who would rather plan every little detail of their birthday than let someone else,” you laughed lightly as you waited at the bar. You were thankful for Namjoon at the moment, he always had a way of sending something was wrong even if you didn’t tell him what. His presence was calming enough. He just laughed finally catching the bartender’s attention, “He’s a perfectionist when it comes to celebrating himself.”

“Four shots of…” you weren’t paying attention fully. Namjoon was smiling warmly at you that you didn’t notice what was going on around you. When the bartender spoke again, “Need a little boost for the stage tonight?”

You froze at his words. The stage? Not wanting to turn, you let your eyes wander off to the person standing next to you, scared to see who might be standing next to you. It was a guy with black hair, tattoos and piercings. He must’ve caught you looking because he sent you a wink. You didn’t react, eyes flickering behind him to the stage where stagehands were getting equipment ready. The stranger’s brows furrowed as he glance over to you again. Did he know you from somewhere? He didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was looking, letting his eyes trail over your features longer than necessary. When they set a tray of the shots in front of him, the bartender telling him they were on the house, he turned to you.

“Hey, have we ever met before?” He asked suddenly looking over to you. You looked back to him, Namjoon preoccupied with paying to notice and your brows only scrunched together in confusion. Was this some rockstar pick-up line? “No?”

He forced a smile on his face, “Right sorry.” And he left. He did know you from somewhere, or he’d at least seen you before. He walked back to his bandmates, shots for them all, “I’ve got the drinks!”

“Took you long enough,” Hoseok was the first to say something smiling at him as he set his drumsticks down. Jungkook paid him no mind as he stared ahead at the lead singer, “Tae, mind if I borrow cash for a tip? I don’t got any.”

Taehyung shrugged, motioning over his shoulder where his wallet was in his bag. Jungkook handed the tray to Hoseok as he went over to their pile of things. He dug through Taehyung’s bag until he found his wallet. Inside it was the usual stuff, he kept rummaging though. Hidden between some punch cards he found it. A small, wallet sized picture.

A picture of a woman. A woman with a lazy smile and half glazed over eyes. She was in a messy bed cuddled into bed sheets with a small puppy in her hands. It was then that Jungkook noticed that it was you. The one he’d just seen at the bar is the same person Taehyung kept hidden in his wallet. The only reason why Jungkook even knew of this photo is because of the time he meant to steal a couple bucks from his hyung, dropped the wallet and the picture slipped out. He wasn’t sure what to do, should he tell Taehyung who he just saw?

But then he remembered the time he asked his hyung about the mystery girl, Taehyung had gotten mad and stormed off. As if summoning him too, a hand snatched the picture and wallet out of his hands, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook looked up at him, “I—Tae—“ he took a deep breath, “Who is that again?”

“None of your business,” his voice was sharp, mean almost and he shook the thought, “Nobody, it doesn’t matter.”

“Hyung, I think I…” should he tell him? He shook his head, he shouldn’t. But he had to. He didn’t know that much about Taehyung. He barely joined the band a year ago but his band mate was always quiet and on his own. He never seemed into anything and always out of it. Did this person have a say in it? Is that why Taehyung still carried this picture around despite how sensitive the topic was. No, he had to say something. He’d feel guilty if he knew and never spoke up about it. For better or worse, Jungkook just saw the person Taehyung keeps hidden in his wallet.

“That person in the picture,” Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Alright guys!” Sungha, their manager cut in, “On stage, come on. Okay, Taehyungie?” Taehyung didn’t listen to her, Jungkook had to say something about you and he needed to know now if it was gonna piss him off or not.

“She’s here, I-I just saw her—“

“Alright let’s go!” Yoongi smiled widely, high off the thought of performing but Taehyung didn’t react.

He couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as he pointed to your picture, “H-Her?” Jungkook nodded, “At the bar.”

You were here? You came? You actually came to one of their shows? He knew this was a smaller performance, just fitting this little favor into their schedule for Jin since it was his opening night. He spent so many shows in Seoul searching for someone in the crowd who wasn’t there and now you were. Did you know he was here? Did you come alone? No, definitely not. Who goes alone on a Saturday night to a opening night for a club? Did you come with friends? A boyfriend? Probably. Why would you be single anyway? Not like you’ve been waiting for him.

“Come on,” Jungkook tried pulling Taehyung but he shook him off. Taehyung shook his head, “You’re telling me… her? You saw her? Here? Tonight? Where, tell me where is she?”

“Tae come on man!” Hobi put his hands on his shoulders leading him onto stage away from Jungkook. Jungkook just followed, maybe after the performance Taehyung could explain what’s going on.

“Holy shit they’re about to perform!” Jimin shook you, arms around your waist trying to lift you up in his excitement, “Fuck, someone get me a shot!”

“Here, here,” Jieun laughed as she handed him more alcohol. You rolled your eyes laughing as your best friend got shitfaced for his birthday. You refused to look to the stage but you could hear the cheers all around you.

It wasn’t until his voice spoke up, the same deep, calming voice speak through the mix. The same voice that used to sing to you in the back of some shitty truck parked by traintracks. The same voice that’d whisper in your ear, I love you.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do it.

Taehyung’s eyes had been racing over all the faces in the poorly lit club. He was going to find you, no matter what.

The music began, he could hear Hoseok behind him counting down to start but he was frozen in place. He was going to find you. You weren’t in the front, or the right, or the left. He could barely see the back but he knew you had to be here. He just needed to see how you were doing. And like a miracle happened, one of the set lights ran through the crowd, that’s how he saw you and you saw him. Your eyes met for the briefest of moments before you were moving. No, leaving.

“I’ll be back,” he couldn’t stop himself from getting off the stage. Ignoring his manager and bandmate’s he was leaving, going after you. He tossed the mic to Jungkook and as if his band mate understood he was taking over. Sungha reached for Taehyung as he made it backstage but he moved again. He was going after you so he had to hurry.

Shit, he saw you. God was this so fucking weird. What if he thought you were stalking him. What if he thought you were bitter or not over him? You apologized to your friends telling them you just needed a breather. You walked to the back down the long hall where the bathrooms would be. You didn’t know that it connected to backstage until he was intercepting you. The light above you flickering, too dark in the tiny hallway.

Neither of you said anything, all you could both do was take in the other person’s features. He looked differently, obviously older than the last time you saw him when he was 24. His face was more structured, sharper and masculine. His eyes were still hooded over, lazy almost unamused but you knew that wasn’t the case.

“Y/n,” it came out just above a whisper. He looked over you. Your hair was different, your face a little more soft. Your glossy lips slightly parted, your dress fitting your curves perfectly. Still so damn beautiful.

You took a step closer, you had to. You hadn’t seen him in two years. It’s crazy how affected he made you. He looked great. When you took a step forward he did too until you were standing directly in front of each other. He wasn’t thinking when he did it, just took you in his arms, pressing you against him enjoying the feel of your arms wrapping around him. He took a deep breath of your hair, same lavender scent. He wanted you closer, no, needed you closer.

“Taehyung, Tae—hey,” you cupped his face in your hands forcing a friendly smile on your face, “You look amazing. You guys are amazing, wow.”

“Then why are you trying to run away? I’m sorry, I just had to see if it’s you.” Taehyung shook his head, “I know you don’t want to see me but I just needed to see how you were doing. I’m sorry, I’m sorry for—“

“Taehyungie! There you are!” Sungha came over quickly, arm slinging around him as she smiled widely, “I was wondering what happened.” She looked over to you; eyeing you up and down with distaste. Another groupie, she assumed. You looked down at the way she clung to him, the same girl in the pictures. Right, of course he’d moved on. Silly enough to think he wasn’t over you yet, but you could say now that you still missed him. He still mattered to you, you couldn’t escape him. The band plastered on billboards, bus stops, commercials.

You took a step back and immediately Taehyung grew anxious. No, you weren’t done yet. He pushed Sungha’s hand off, “Wait, do you still have the same number?”

You looked up at him as did his manager. Shaking your head no he sighed, “Y/n… please.”

“Tae everyone’s waiting for you,” Sungha caught in. Look, she didn’t care who you were. Taehyung had a show to do and she wasn’t going to let some groupie ruin their image. “I’ll call you,” you told him looking down at the floor.

“Here’s my new number,” he took your phone as you handed it to him. He put his number in and called himself. He wasn’t going to risk giving you his number only for you to never call him. He needed to be able to reach you two. You said a single goodbye and turned away.

He stood still, staring after you as you walked down the dim hallway. No, he couldn’t let you go yet. Not yet. He let himself slip away from Sungha again as he followed after you, “Y/n wait.”

You stopped, your hands were shaking a little so you hid them behind your back as you turned to him again. He stood in front of you, “Come backstage, please?”

“I can’t,” you answered quickly, “I’m here with some friends and we’re celebrating a birthday. He’d kill me if I ditched on him.”

“They can come too,” Taehyung pointed out, “Sungha, make sure security lets them through, how many?”

You looked to him feeling somewhat uncomfortable. You probably shouldn’t. Not because you didn’t feel anything for the guy, it’s because you still felt everything for him. Even after two years of being broken up you still care about him so much. You should tell him it’s alright, that you have his number now so you can catch up another time but the hopeful look in his eyes made you pause. You missed him. A lot.

“There’s six of us,” you tell him as you began taking a couple steps back, “We’re kind of a lot.”

He smiled shaking his head, “That’s okay.”

When you left Taehyung had gone back to the band. During a short break he was able to switch places with Jungkook again and sing up front. A smile stretched across his face because you were here right now. You didn’t hate him either, which is what he always thought. You embraced him like he’d done you and for a split second he could act like nothing ever fell out between you two. He ignored Sungha’s questions and concerns because they didn’t matter. She was his manager and you were his ex girlfriend, who do you think he’d be more willing to hear from?

After the show ended Jimin was so hyped up. He was shaking you by the shoulders beaching out more lyrics even as the DJ took over and you couldn’t hold in your laughter, “Well do you want to meet them birthday boy? They’ve invited us backstage.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He squeezed you again, “I could kiss you right now. What are we still doing here?”

And you let your friends excitement mask the slight tinge of anxiety you felt. Taehyung looked happy to see you and it made you feel awful. Awful for not answering his calls, awful for not congratulating him on his accomplishments, awful for how things were left. You don’t think you could ever forget the look on his face when your father cornered him.

‘Listen kid, I know guys like you,’ your father had said, ‘And I know that you are nothing but trouble filling my daughter’s head with these crazy idea of yours. If you want to throw your life away because you think you can make a name for yourself I don’t care. But you’re not letting her go down with you. She’s got a bright future ahead of her and being with you will only ruin her.’

‘Sir, I would never let Y/n down, please—‘ ‘You stay away from her, okay? If I see you anywhere near her again I swear to God it will be the last time anyone sees you again.’

Of course Taehyung hadn’t listened then. How could he when someone was trying to take the love of his life away? He knew your family was controlling, and intimidating, but he didn’t care. You were all he had, he’d never leave you willingly, right?

‘Y/n, please don’t do this. I’m not scared, I don’t care about what he says to me. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me too,’ he’d snuck into your bedroom later that night. Your parents had gone out for dinner and a movie. He tried and tried to get you to see reason, ‘I know you’re worried, but I’m not. As long as you love me I don’t care what anyone else says.’

‘Tae it’s not that easy, you don’t know him. You don’t know what he’ll do to you. I’m just asking for some space until I move in to the dorm—‘ ‘You want to hide our relationship?’ Taehyung asked taking a step back, ‘Is that what you really want?’

‘Run away with me,’ he’d begged, hands reaching for yours as he tried pulling you into him, ‘I can get us both tickets to wherever you want to go. Once the band and I start getting some gigs I will be able to pay for your tuition so your parents won’t have to. We’ll find somewhere cheap to live in the mea—‘

‘Taehyung! Listen to yourself please,’ you took a deep breath, ‘I—I can’t. Why can’t you just give me a couple months to let things settle? I love you but I need some space, just until I can move out and then we can be together again without having to sneak around.’

‘A couple months?’ He scoffed, ‘Y/n, baby, please listen to yourself. What happened to not caring about what your parent’s had to say? We’re supposed to be a team, support each other but it’s like you’re giving up on me.’

“Hey, are you okay?” A hand came down to your lower back. Snapping out of your thoughts you looked up to Namjoon, he had a concerned expression as the two of you caught up to where the others were headed backstage. You’d been thinking about Taehyung, about one of your fights. You tried to smile back, hand on his back reassuring him that you were okay as well as leading him on with the others, “Of course, just a little tired.”

“These are the friends?” A voice spoke from behind you. Turning quickly you stared at Taehyung who’d snuck around the stage to search for you. His eyes traveled down to the hand on your lower back and the man on your arm. Without thinking you pulled away, as if you being with Namjoon would give Taehyung the wrong idea. Which idea exactly? You forced a smile onto your face, “Yeah, er, like I said we’re a lo—“

“Holy fucking moly you’re Kim Taehyung!” Jimin quite literally barreled past you, stumbling in his step, “I’m a fan. A big fan. Such a huge fan, wow you guys are grea—hey! It’s my birthday!”

Taehyung glared down at Jimin as you reached out to hold him back. Jimin just threw his arm around you, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your cheek that reeked of alcohol, “H-how do you know him? Have you been holding out on me Y/n?”

“We used to date,” Taehyung was so forward about it as he pushed through your friends to get to the front. He led you all inside while you tried to ignore everyone’s betraying eyes. Jimin, drunk as he was, didn’t care to hide his questions, “What? You mean to tell me, you, my oh so loving best friend has dated a rockstar! And didn’t even bother telling me when it’s my birthday!?”

“Well, technically it’s not your birthday anymore,” Yuna pointed out staring at the clock that read 12:04am. Jimin glared at her as you all followed Taehyung, Namjoon close behind you.

Taehyung did the introductions for you, introduced all of the band to you and your friends even though you’ve already met Yoongi and Hoseok before. They gave you shy smiles, remembering the times you watched them practice. When he was sure they were all busy talking amongst themselves he went back to you. You’d been standing back just watching it all unfold staring at the same tatted man from earlier with the piercings. He came to your side, “Can we talk?”

“How’d you know I was here?” You asked him going back to him. Your voice was just barely above a whisper so he leaned in to listen, or so he says that’s the reason. You two were far off from the rest of the group and he gripped the metal railing for the staircase behind him, “Jungkook told me.”

Your brows furrowed. That must’ve been the other guy.

And as if on cue the guy had come up, smile on his face, “You see, I knew I knew you from somewhere!”

“From where?” You asked him. You stalked Taehyung’s socials even if you didn’t follow each other and he didn’t have any old posts with you at all. You turned to Jungkook and he just smiled, “You’re in his wallet. I always wondered if that was his gi—“

He gagged, Yoongi’s arm locked around his neck as he pulled him back, struggling to do so, “You always talk so damn much.” He glanced back to you, “It’s nice to see you again Y/n. You’re not a kid no more.”

You first met Yoongi when you were 18. He was one of Taehyung’s older friends who knew how to play every instrument and produce any sound possible. He was always quiet and to himself, but he enjoyed having you at their practices. Gave them an audience. He also remembered how broken Taehyung had been when you two broke up. He just didn’t know Taehyung carried a picture of you in his wallet. He wanted to say that you and Taehyung should be together but he’s no so sure. Taehyung had been completely destroyed when you left, or well when he left. He didn’t want him to go through that again.

You looked to Taehyung who only glared after Jungkook as the younger was dragged away, “A picture?”

He reached into his back pocket taking his wallet out. He pulled out two punch cards where a picture laid between them. You stared down at it, heart squeezing for a second. He kept this? He printed it and kept it in his wallet? For two years? “Tannie,” you mumbled smiling a little as you looked at baby Yeontan. The picture was from a time you spent the night over at his place, you cuddled his dog and the running joke had always been that you were his momma. You looked up at Taehyung, he was already staring.

“I missed you.”

You ended up leaving with Namjoon and Jieun by the end of the night. Their manager had gotten fed with you, you’re sure of it, and had already tried to get everyone to leave. Taehyung didn’t want to go yet, asking you to come back to him but you didn’t. He asked you to call him then when you got home but you hadn’t done that either. You needed a minute to think.

He tried calling you the next couple of days but you didn’t respond. You just needed a day or two. He didn’t understand.

You thought he hated you. His music hasn’t been all that loving. He had reason to hate you too, the way you left him at the last second, when your father got home to see you getting in a car with him.

‘Dad! I’m sorry, okay?’ You’d shouted after him as he stormed off to Taehyung. He pushed him, shoving him to the ground and standing over him. You pulled and pulled on his arm but he gripped Taehyung by his shirt, ‘You don’t listen, do you? What part of stay away from my daughter do you not understand?’

‘Dad! I’m an adult, I can make my o—‘ ‘Shut up and get inside!’ He looked down to Taehyung, ‘Get out of here.’

‘Y/n,’ Taehyung had called out to you, lip busted as he reached out for you but your dad just dragged you away. With a cry you shook your head, ‘Just go, please.’

You remembered it so clearly. The pain in his voice as he called after you. Your texts telling him how sorry you were. His begging, telling you it’s okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay that you couldn’t be together. He knew it wasn’t. He knew he couldn’t put up with this any longer so when you told him it’s best to break up he agreed even if he didn’t want to. He’d prayed you’d rethink it and ask him to come back to you but you never did. So he left.

taehyung: if you never wanna hear from again just tell me

you: I just needed some time

you: I’m sorry

taehyung: it’s not your fault

taehyung: nothing has ever been

you: you got hurt bc of me

you: you should hate me

taehyung: I could never

taehyung: believe me I tried

taehyung: when can I see you again?

You ended up meeting up with him a couple days later. You invited him over to Heein’s place when it was just gonna be a few friends. He arrived a little later than others so you went down to fetch him. “Are you sure this is okay?” You had asked him once again as he followed you up the flights of stairs, “I don’t want to get you in trouble for going out.”

“It’s fine,” his smile was warm as he cautiously brought his hand up to your lower back letting your lead him into an apartment filled with chaos. Yuna and Jimin were wrestling over the Bluetooth speaker, Jieun was wiping up some spilled drink, Namjoon was covering his ears to avoid Heein’s unnecessary screaming when her favorite KPOP group appeared on tv.

“Act normal! Act normal!” Jimin shoved Yuna off as he took a seat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other taking a deep breath as he looked at Taehyung, “Why hello again Mr. Rockstar? Funny seeing you here, don’t mind the mess.”

“Stop talking like you live here,” Heein told him as she looked over to Taehyung, “Come, come. There’s drinks in the kitchen, we are about to play some card games.”

Taehyung looked over to you nervously but you just winked. He smiled now following your lead inside, you offered him a drink which he gladly took and joined you on the couch. The guy he’d seen you close to, Namjoon, kept glaring over at him but he didn’t care. He didn’t care who that guy was or what he had to do with you. He was just happy enough to possibly have you back in his life, it meant you still cared about him too.

Jimin led the card games anything that could get everyone drinking more or talking more. When it turned into a question game they seemed to all be directed at Taehyung. Taehyung who let his leg brush against yours any chance he had just to feel closer to you. It almost felt like the old days, when you’d be surrounded by friends laughing along with Taehyung, being made fun of for being so in love. He’d bring you closer to him, give you a kiss and smile against you because he really did love you. If only he could do that now, but not talking to each other for two years definitely put a strain on what you used to be to each other.

“So, how does it all work? Going on tour and stuff?” Namjoon had asked him shuffling a deck of cards, “Do you get breaks?”

“Yes, we are on a break now for a couple weeks then it’s off to Europe,” Taehyung told him honestly, but he really wished not to say anything at all. He didn’t want it to ruin his chances at reconciliation with you. He’d stay here forever if you asked him to. He looked to you waiting for a reaction but you just took a drink from your cup.

You looked up at him, lip pulled between your teeth nervously. He wanted to pull it out, tell you not to bite your lip because he loved it so much. You should know this. “So where are you staying? Do you have a place? Do you stay at hotels?” Heein asked him.

“I have my own place.”

“Okay, since nobody else will ask, I’ll ask,” Jimin took a deep breath as he looked between you two, “So what’s the story here? I gotta say I’m pretty upset my best friend kept this a secret from me. That she not only knew, but dated, a member of my favorite band.”

Taehyung looked to you again, what was the story you wanted to tell? You didn’t say anything for a moment, “We met a few years ago, when I had just finished high school. He worked at this record store my friends and I used to like going to. One thing led to another, we went on a few dates and then we got together.”

Yuna was the next to speak, “So wait, then why’d you guys break up? It couldn’t be that bad if you’re still hanging ou-ow!” Jimin poked her to shut up. You looked at Taehyung.

“We just wanted different things at the time,” he cleared his throat looking around, “Where’s the bathroom?” Jimin pointed down the hall and he excused himself.

His reflection stared back at him, taunting him almost. Asking him what the fuck was he doing. Why was he here right now? What did he really want to gain from all this? Was he looking to at least be friends again? Would he even be satisfied with that knowing the way your lips felt against his? Or how much he missed having someone to hold late at night. He wasn’t celibate or anything, but he never found the comfort in other people’s arms like in yours. Would he ever be satisfied with anything less than your love for him?

He turned the faucet on, cupping his hands under the warm water before splashing it on his face. Was he too stuck in the past? He dried his face off combing his fingers through his hair as he left the bathroom.

“Are we still getting brunch with your dad tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll ask him.”

Taehyung froze, hidden away in the shadows of the hall he stopped. That was Namjoon’s voice and yours too. That meant Namjoon knew your dad, talked to him, hung out with him. And it meant your dad liked him. Why else would he be invited out? Taehyung would’ve been lucky to even get a hello every time he’d go over. It was always mean looks and glares, the occasional threat or degradation. Sometimes his ass laid out on the pavement if your dad was feeling extra bold and drunk.

What did that mean? Namjoon, was he into you?

He went on, walking back to where he’d once been sitting and waiting quietly for whatever else was to come. He looked over at Namjoon who just smiled, knowing almost. Knowing that he’d soon be replacing Taehyung’s door in your heart and pretty fucking happy about it. You reached for his hand on instinct, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Good,” he lied looking up to you, “Tired but good.”

“So Taehyung, I’ve been wanting to ask,” Namjoon spoke up, “Is, or has, Y/n ever been one of your song inspirations? You write a good amount of the music, right? Or was your relationship not too important?”

Taehyung glared down at him, a light scoff leaving his lips, “Well, she’s the inspiration for all my music, now too.”

“Fuck you that is so romantic,” Jieun pretended to cry against Jimin who just pushed her off his shoulder teasingly, “I want a guy to write songs about me.”

You didn’t say anything. Was that really true? The songs of his that you’d heard, had they really been about you?

“Every single one of them,” Taehyung spoke as he looked at you directly as if reading your thoughts. He’d always do that. You looked back to him, “Are you tired of their interrogation?”

“A little.” At least he was honest. Mostly he just wanted to get out of her and talk to you alone. Maybe you’d be able to really discuss what happened and where you are now. That’s what he really wanted.

He’d asked you over to his apartment later on. You both got in his car and he drove off. He walked ahead of you, picking up clothes and shoes off the floor covering his face in embarrassment, “Sorry, we just got back and I haven’t had time to unpack. Here, er, take a seat I’ll get you a drink.”

You nodded heading to the living room but you didn’t sit. You looked around, eyes skimming over the artwork. The framed albums and guitars, the random abstract paintings and photographs. The apartment was big, new and definitely expensive. You were so proud of him. Compared to that rundown studio he used to take you to this was an upgrade.

“You cold?” He asked coming over and setting a tray with glasses and a wine bottle on the coffee table. He went to the fireplace and began to turn it on. You looked down at the fluffy black rug under your feet and wiggled your toes in it. When he was done he let himself drop to the run sitting on the floor and pouring glasses. He looked up to you nervously, “You’re not gonna sit? Sorry, it’s warmer down here by the fireplace.”

You just smiled and sat down next to him. He looked over to you again, shy smile on his face as he handed you a glass and you thanked him. Shyly, he cleared his throat, “I um, I didn’t get to explain myself the other night, for the picture I mean.”

“It’s just, well, um, it was the day I got Yeontan. He was just a pup and well, I took the picture and I didn’t have that many of him, or you, and I guess I just never took it out,” he breathed out nervously, “It’s weird. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Where is he anyway?” You asked looking around sporting the dog toys but no dog.

“Probably napping in my closet.”

You smiled watching his nervous hand come up to brush a stray hair out of his face, “I was surprised.”

“Yeah.”

“But look at this,” you reached for your cellphone, the dark case popping off with a simple push and inside a paper slipped out. You handed the old slip to him and he looked over it with brows furrowed. It was a sketch. A poorly drawn heart with a smiley face inside, a few flowers around it and faded handwriting that read, ‘-Taehyung’ on it. He flipped it over, the back had more but this time it was your name doodled everywhere with his.

He smiled, heart feeling light as he thought back to that day.

‘How much longer?’ He’d asked you doodling on a random sticky note. You were currently studying for some summer course, he was hanging out with you. You sat under a tree letting the shade block the harsh sun and he’d taken one of your textbooks to use as a clipboard while he doodled. When you didn’t give him an answer he reached into your pencil pouch and pulled out a sharpie. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he grabbed one of your legs that had been on his lap and took hold of your converse. Quickly he drew a messy heart with your initials and his on it.

‘Hey!’ You yanked your foot back just as he’d finished the date and looked down at your foot. Cute. He flashed you a smile and held up the sticky note, placing it on your forehead. You huffed taking it off and looking it over, “Cute, give me five and then I’m done. And no more writing on my shoes.’

‘Give me a kiss and I’ll stop.’

He held the sticky note now feeling a sense of relief. Good. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t fully let the other go. It gave him hope, almost. He licked his dry lips, “Listen, I just, I think I should be honest with you.”

Uh oh.

“I was mad with how we left things,” he confessed, “I felt like we couldn’t get on the same page and like nothing was working out for us. And I just thought that it was because you weren’t trying hard enough. Like I wasn’t worth a fight with your parents and that was unfair or me. I blamed you when it wasn’t your fault and I regret it so fucking much. I tried calling and texting you to see if we could ever be anything again even if it was just friends but you never answered.”

You took a deep breath sliding your legs under you, “I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to ignore you but it was my fault. If I only just… if I just stuck up for us and told him nothing bad would have happened to you. I regret never speaking up for you—“

“He’s your dad,” Taehyung sighed, “I was expecting you to go against him, that wasn’t right of me.”

“Everything he said or did to you wasn’t right.”

He reached a hand out to you, pushing your hair out of your face, “I would’ve put up with so much more if it meant we could be together. It killed me being away from you. It still does.”

“I thought you were happy,” you were being honest with him now, “I thought that if I tried talking to you it’d be like opening old wounds. Or that you’d hate me or like I wasn’t letting you move on. I mean look at you, look at what you’ve become. Your dreams came true and I couldn’t bring up the past.”

He shook his head scooting closer to you, “You’ve always been my dream too, don’t forget that.”

You shook your head ready to protest but he continued, “You’re really the reason why I continued music. You’re the one who always pushed me to try my best and I guess hearing your dad say I’d never be good enough for you made me want to prove him wrong. I wanted to give you a life that you couldn’t even imagine. That’s why I kept going until I forgot why I was doing all of this.”

It was quiet. Neither of you knew what else to say or where to go from here. All you knew was that you liked the way his fingers ran over your ankle lightly brushing against your skin. Caressing you like he used to as he dipped a finger along the rim of his glass, “So, uh, Namjoon. Y-ou… that’s the kind of guy your dad wants for you? I overheard earlier, brunch tomorrow.”

You sighed, hand reaching out to hold his, “I don’t care what he wants for me anymore. I learned from my mistakes.”

“Yes but, are you seeing each other?” He bit into his bottom lip. It’s fine. Like ripping a bandaid. Just tell him the truth. Tell him if he has a change again or not. You held his hand tighter, “What are we? What do you want us to be?”

“Friends?” More, he thought. He needed to be cautious, try and ease into your life again. You looked into his eyes, “That’s it?”

“No.”

His eyes searched yours for a hint at what you wanted him to say. What truth you wanted him to tell, and with a deep breath he told his own, “I want to be with you, I never want to be away from you again if we don’t even get to talk. I know we haven’t spoken in so long but I’ve missed you every day and have just been trying to forget. I don’t want to forget us Y/n. I told you then, and I’m telling you now. I am so fucking in love with you, and I have always been. I want to say that we can try and be friends but it’s not enough, it will never be enough for me.”

“Leaving you back last time was the hardest thing I’d ever done. When you told me to leave I was so fucking hurt and mad, I don’t ever want to feel that again,” he kept going, “And I’m scared that just being friends will kill me but I can’t stand the thought of losing you when I just f-found you again.”

A deep breath, eyes closed, “But if you just want to be friends, I’ll do it. Just please don’t go.”

All you did was smile. Your silence was torture. He needed you to just say something. Tell him what you wanted him to do. If you didn’t want him in that way anymore, if you wanted him to get out of your life. If you loved him still. Please, just show him where your head’s at. You leaned forward, he watched closely as you approached him. His heart raced, eyes wandering down to your parted lips. And with a sigh he let his lips meet yours.

You both melted into the kiss, crumbling down onto each other. His hands were quick to reach out for you going to your waist. He was on his knees leaning into you for better access, the kiss was electrifying. The tingly feeling he’d missed returning to him just being here with you right now. He could stay with his mouth on yours for forever.

Moving your hand from his shoulder, you cupped the back of his neck and pulled him deeper into your mouth. Taehyung let out a desperate sounding noise and it sparked something hot inside of you, pushing him back so you could climb onto his lap. You whimpered when his fingers dug into the softness of your waist and he used that moment to dip his tongue into your mouth. Quickly you were dipping your head down and running your own tongue along his, drunk on the heat and taste of him. You missed this. His movements were swift, expert to the feel of your body, his hand running up into your hair and the other sliding down to your bottom while your legs wrapped around his waist. He held you up even if he was struggling not to fall back onto the floor. When he squeezed you there, bringing your body to press fully against his, you moaned. You pulled back to catch your breath. Looking back at him, you smiled at just how swollen his lips were and how messy you’d made his hair. You let yourself kiss the corner of his open mouth hearing him gasp as you trailed your affections elsewhere.

Heaven. You were, this whole thing was just heaven on Earth. Your lips on him again, kissing down that little spot under his jaw that you knew drove him insane. Making his eyes rolls back when your hips ground down against him a little. His hands where they should be, planted on your hips, keeping you in place. Your hand in his hair yanking his head back so your lips could crash onto his.

“Ngh,” with furrowed brows he deepened the kiss, never having enough of you. He felt hot against you, breathing roughly through his nose just so he wouldn’t have to pull away. Your other hand was under his chin, holding him close to you as if he’d slip away. His neck stretched up chasing after your lips.

“I don’t think I can live without you again,” you confessed shyly, gasping when his mouth left wet, hungry kisses along the expanse of your neck. His hands were groping at your clothes trying to bring you even closer, your chest against his with your legs straddling his lap.

“You won’t have to,” he sighed out trailing his hand up and down your back, “I don’t want you to.”

You wanted to be closer to him. Show him how much you missed him too, let him know that you couldn’t just be friends either. It’s not like you’d be the first person in the world to go back to your ex. You wanted to grind your bodies together until you remembered what it was like to be one.

You reached down between them, fingers skidding over his shirt, pushing him back until he got the hint to lie down. Taehyung sucked in a breath, tensed his stomach in anticipation, remembering the way your hands on him felt. With a smile, you let your fingers dance along the fabric as you hovered over him. The sight below you just beautiful. This man. This wonderful man who was willing to wait and forget whatever happened between you two just to be together again. How could you ever forget about him? Move on from him?

“Is this okay?” You asked, scared that maybe you’d gone too far by kissing him first. His eyes were half shut but he was nodding his head eagerly, in bliss from just making out with you. He usually took the lead between you two but having you on top of him was making his mind wander off to what had changed in this department for you. You lifted his t-shirt, kissing along his rib cage while your hand caressed over his stomach and sides, “What about this?”

“Fuck Y/n, yes. Yes. Yes. It’s perfect,” he sighed out letting his head fall back, “Just keep touching me. It’s been so long.”

His breath hitched, stomach tensing once more when your hand slipped down the hem of his clothing, trailing along his pelvis and thigh. Then trailed back up to the dip of his navel, just above the wet tip of Taehyung’s fast growing erection. You still had such an effect of him.

Your lips met his again, a hand coming up to your face and pulling you closer. You took the opportunity to go on, hand curled over the

hard length carefully. Taehyung released a gust of breath and tilted his head up for another kiss.

It was sloppy, eager tongues and pliant lips and gently scraping teeth. It was moans passed back and forth with increasing urgency. It was too good to stop. You broke away, smearing your lips across his jaw and groaning into his neck. “God, you’re so hard,” you murmured into warm skin. “I could worship you.”

It wasn’t far off from the truth. He was harder, thicker, than you could remember and he was here with you again. You let your fingers tap against the wet slick leaking from his slit and massaged it over his tip and as much of his length as you could. Your hand stretched wide around his member as you gave it a single, careful stroke that left Taehyung wanting more.

You wanted more, wanted to feel the heavy weight of it on your tongue. Have him wriggling on this rug by the fireplace for more, more, more. You pushed off, tugging on his shirt and pants for it to come off all while taking your own clothes off. Taehyung moved quickly to rid himself of clothing. Instead of taking over, he just fell back into the plush rug, vibrating with excitement for more. He missed you so damn much he’d take anything you gave him right now.

With your hand, you traced down his hard chest, tweaked playfully at a nipple, then slid your fingers over the soft muscle. You scooted back and Taehyung lifted his head, eyes bright with hope. You pulled against the hem of his briefs, which he’d oh so excitedly left on just thinking about you ripping them off him, and let your finger graze against his hardened cock until in pointed lewdly at the ceiling. You leaned down, eyes locked onto Taehyung’s—a steady gaze that said ’watch me worship your cock’.

Your tongue slipped out flat, and Taehyung attempted to bite back a whispered—whimpered—"Y/n…“

You pressed against his tip, slipped your tongue over the weeping slit, and rolled it around the reddened head, once, twice. You sank your mouth down, letting Taehyung’s girth part your lips until they hugged around his member. You couldn’t hit it in and moaned—hungry for more— you reached between his legs and palmed underneath where his balls were. They were always flushed against his member, close to releasing all the tension.

Slowly, you pulled away. You brought your hand to rest on his thigh, soothing him and let his cock slip from your mouth while your head fell against his thigh.

“Are you sure you want this again?” You asked nervously, ghosting your fingers along the prominent veins of his shaft.

Taehyung arched up, a moan slipping past his lips. “More than anything else in the world I want you.”

And that’s what had you back on his cock, mouth sucking him, wrapping your hand around the girth and stroked once from thick base to leaking tip letting him slip out of your mouth before pummeling back onto him. Taehyung shuddered, a single curse falling from his lips with a gracious rumble—fffuuuuuuck.

Whatever didn’t fit was stroked again—one slow pass over the length of him. Then again. With the tip just barely in your mouth, you began to suck, as if to milk him, lips squeezed around him. Slowly, as if unsure, Taehyung rolled his hips into you. When you offered no resistance, he did it again—thrusting into your mouth a little more, hissing at the glide of your hand at his base.

“Fuck, s-such a good girl,” he whined, moans rumbled through him, growing louder, higher. He was now fucking into your mouth in quick jabs, chasing his climax. You could feel the twitching pulse of his cock.

“Come, baby,” Your voice was soft, like a melody, “You deserve it.” You let your free hand go down again, squeezing lightly against his balls.

Taehyung cried out, hips up pushing you flush against his pubic bone. He came hot and hard in your mouth, pulsing out thick ribbons until he shuddered with over sensitivity. His own hands running along his bare torso as if it’d calm his racing heart. And when you pulled off his length, swallowing hard his cum he stared at the mess drooling out from the corners of your mouth and all he could think about is how he wanted to do the same to you. So he reached for you, not caring about the cum hanging off your lips, and smashed his lips against yours.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he moaned tasting himself on your tongue, “Please, fuck, just fuck my face.”

Just the idea of it makes you moan. You nod your head, as his hands find your hips guiding you up his body. He pulled at your underwear, ordering you to remove your bra too as he moved you where he wanted you. It started off slow, licks down the crease of your thigh, so close and so far away from where you need him. He scrapes his teeth down the sensitive thin skin, sucks a mark on your inner thigh. He’s humming at the feel, your soft thighs providing warmth to his ears like it’s cold outside—well it is.

“You’re so wet,” he let some of the slick drop onto his face only making this more lewd. How could you not be after having him in your mouth?

You could never forget how much you love the way he touches you, reverently at first. And later demanding and hungry, the gentleness gone as he takes you apart expertly. You will never get enough of the greedy way he takes everything you give him.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by the feel of his tongue finally sliding over your clit. You cry out, clutching at his head, you’d palms skid over his hair by accident and tug as you shiver.

He licks over you quickly, vibrating your clit before working his way down, his tongue siding inside you, fucking in and out slowly guiding your hips to ride his face. You push back against him as pleasure courses through you. Your whole body is lit up. You start to shake, the gentle stroke of his tongue right down the middle of you feeling wonderful. “Oh.” Your head falls back with a moan. You shiver as he does it again and again. One long swipe after another along the open center of your cunt. Your hips start to rock, your knees slipping until you’re pressed firmly against him. You feel him moan against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat right through you. He was enjoying this. You tasted so damn sweet.

His hands slide over your thighs, his fingers rubbing and pressing at the muscles before moving up over your stomach to cup your exposed breasts. There’s a reason he wanted your bra off and on the floor. His thumbs brush back and forth over your nipples, until suddenly he pinches them hard.

“Fuck!” You grits out just as his tongue pushes into you. You grind against him, your body wracked with one hard shudder after another. His tongue is fucking up into you, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, his finger pinching and pulling at your nipples and you’re so fucking close already, rubbing at you from every angle and you feel every single flick of it. He keeps it curled in, as he begins to fuck you with it. You’re struggling to balance yourself as you ride his tongue, his nose hitting your clit every now and then. You hear a low rumble from him and it vibrates his tongue. You nearly scream as another shudder works it way through you.

You feel it coming like a tidal wave. Your whole body goes tight, shaking uncontrollably, your breath stuttering out and then you lock down on him, one hard convulsion after another as you wail his name. He keeps you in place, arms thrown around your thighs watching you fall apart above him hearing the chant of his name slip from your pretty lips. He laps at your release, wanting more, more, more.

It took you both a moment to bounce back from that, but with Taehyung’s cock hard again from having you squirm on him was making it difficult for him to be patient. When you got off of him he made sure to kiss your shoulder lovingly while you fell down next to him. Tender and soft, “Do you want to stop?”

He hoped not.

You shook your head, smiling so lovingly at him as you brushed some sweaty locks off his forehead. The rug underneath you felt so hot you had no idea how Taehyung has been fine just lying there. You kissed him gently, “Condom?”

“Shit,” he muttered as he moved you off lightly. He was on his feet, naked and running toward his bedroom—where you should be having sex right now instead of the floor but who cares. He rummaged through his things searching for one and after a couple minutes he returned. You looked down at his naked body, laughing a little when you caught sight of his hard dick, “Couldn’t wait?”

He shook his head sending you a cheeky smile as he rolled the condom on himself before even getting back onto the rug. He leaned over you, your arms flying around his neck as he met your lips with his, groaning a little at how needy it was. He couldn’t believe he had you again, right now in this moment. It made it feel like the last two years without you never happened and you were always together. His arm snuck underneath your arched back and pulled you flush against him. With one swift movement, he had you up flipping you over so you were on top sitting over his hard cock.

You whined a little at the sudden pressure against your sensitive pussy, unwrapping your arms from around his neck to push up against his chest.

He kissed along your arms as you unraveled yourself with him sitting up straight. He smiled, “You are so beautiful.”

“Mhm,” you giggled letting your hair fall over one shoulder. Biting onto your bottom lip Taehyung felt his cock twitched a little, hands on your thighs waiting for you to move. You pressed down, “What do you want? Hm?”

“Ride me,” he sighed out eyes locked on the way your cunt just barely hovered over his erect member, barely grazing over it, “Like you did with my face pretty girl.”

Barely within seconds your hand was slipping down to your core where his member was, you lifted up using your knees for support until you could line him up with your entrance. Taehyung tried being patient, letting you go ahead and take the lead but when your cunt pressed against his tip, slowly taking him in, he couldn’t take it. You gasped suddenly, nails digging into his chest glaring down at him. He had pushed himself all the way inside of you.

"God- fuck-!"

You hissed, resting your hands down on his shoulders before sinking your nails down into his skin.

"Shh, it's alright. Just breathe, okay? Breathe,” he groaned, taking a second himself to get used to your tightness. How do you still feel so goddamn right? “I’m sorry baby, it’s been forever.”

Taehyung sighed, rubbing your waist to soothe the pain down a bit. After about a couple minutes of just waiting there, taking in the size of his cock letting him stretch you all over again. How did you used to take this every day before? You decided to give a little test move, pleasure coursing through your body.

"Oh- god..!" You gasped, not noticing how your body started moving on its own. The feeling of Taehyung’s hips grinding against yours only piled on more feeling to the already intimate feeling. His lip was pulled between his teeth, brows furrowed in concentration letting his hips buck up into yours. Your nails in his skin only working to push him further. He wouldn’t last.

Rocking your hips more, he hissed, Taehyung was practically dying to go rough on you. The strong hands that were once around your waist are now around your hips — a tight grip on them as you felt yourself slowly sliding off to where his tip was still inside you. The sudden feeling of his member slamming back inside sent you on an emotional roller coaster.

He smiled, calming down enough to only be going slow but rough on you. He wanted you to feel all of him, every last inch to remind you what it was like for him to fuck you. Treat you like the good girl you are.

"P-Please-,” you whined out, letting your knees and his hands do more of the work to lift you off his cock, “faster. Fuck, you feel so good."

You gasped out through moans, placing your hands on his chest for support.

"You feel so tight,” he spoke through gritted teeth, feeling yourself getting lifted up and slammed back down- hard too, “I guess I gotta get you used to me again.”

He bent his legs so that his knees were up and his feet were flat on the floor dropping you forward. Your hands slipped off his chest and you came down, hugging him now.

Your hair fell all around him as he thrusted up into you. His free hand came around to the back of your head locking you in place keeping you from moving. “Cum for me, I wanna feel you get even tighter,” he muttered out lips brushing against yours before you bent lower to kiss him. He was practically bouncing you in his hold and with his grip tight behind your neck all you do was wiggle your hips.

“I’m never letting you go, not again,” he growled flipping you over so that he was on top. His pace was brutal, quick sharp thrusts into your heat bringing you on the brink of release, “God, you feel so fucking good. All for me, right?”

“Yes, yes, fuck Tae I’m—I’m—“ he pushed into your cunt to the hilt, keeping you in place and with one final grunt he was letting go, you followed suit, trembling, legs tightening around his waist and he breathed into your neck, teeth scraping against flesh.

It took a minute or two for you both come down, he carefully rolled off of you and yanked the condom off. You looked at it watching the thick glob of cum dribble out. Without saying anything he yanked a throw blanket off the nearest couch and laid it over you. The cold from winter air already taking over once the heat of your bodies dissipated.

He leaned in peppering your skin with kisses making you smile when his hands trailed up your arms. You turned on your side, the night had been long and your body was already feeling sore. He wrapped an around you pulling you against him snuggling close as he whispered by your ear, “I’m gonna write a song about how good your pussy is.”

By morning you both were rudely awoken. Sleeping on the floor after some fucking was not as fun as you thought it’d be. You searched around for your cellphone fighting off Taehyung’s tight grip and pushing your bed head out of your face. He grumbled in his sleep turning away from you as he struggled to wake up. Eyes half closed you answered your ringing phone finally shutting off the god awful sound, “Hello?”

“You haven’t called me today, and I wanted to see if we were still on for later with Namjoon?” Your father’s voice spoke. Instantly your heart dropped as you checked the time. Good. You still had time. You looked back to Taehyung who was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with tight fists. With a deep sigh you said, “I’m not going.”

“Well a heads up would’ve been nice sweetheart. Please remember that Namjoon will only put up with your attitude for so long,” your father went on. Rolling your eyes at his words you couldn’t help but smile at the same time as Taehyung slipped his arm around your naked waist moving to lay on your thigh, kissing you softly. He looked up at you wanting to hear what you’d say. He had an idea on who might be on the phone.

“Daddy, I’m with Taehyung.” You bit your bottom lip nervously. Taehyung’s heart raced at that, he hid a smile by nibbling against your thigh feeling his heart about to explode.

It was silent, your father’s voice came out low, “What?”

“I’m with Taehyung, and I’m not going to break up with him,” you looked to him for reassurance and he just took your hand kissing your knuckles nodding his head, “And it’s fine if you don’t like it because I’m an adult who is capable of making my own decisions.”

Your father laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re fucking done, don’t come to me crying when you’re done with him.” Click.

Your heart dropped. What? You pulled the phone away, that’s it? A text appeared immediately.

dad | pack your shit and get out of my apartment

dad | you wanna throw your life away for scum like him so be it. but not living off my money that’s for sure

You couldn’t help the tears that began to form in your eyes. Taehyung looked up at you clearly alarmed. “Hey, hey, baby,” he brought you close into a hug, “Hey, it’s okay. Look, I—I go on tour again in about a week. Come with me. You’re on break aren’t you? Maybe you can talk to your professors into letting you do it online? You can pack up your stuff and bring it here. It’ll be our place from now on.”

You shook your head, crying now, “No, I can’t. What if, what if you regret being with me again a-and you realize that I’m not worth all the trouble an—“

He cupped your face, “Baby I would never, please you’re scaring me,” his voice cracked as he grabbed the blanket wrapping it around you, “Let’s get in the shower, relax and then we can talk things over. But I already told you, I’m not leaving you.”

He helped you up, your silence making him feel uneasy, “Did you hear me? I-if you don’t want to lose your dad, that’s fine. We don’t have to—I mean—I know how much he means to you and I would never make you choose. S-so if you want to call him back and tell him you made a mistake I won’t get mad.”

You looked up to him as he struggled to say the words. He didn’t want to let you go but he didn’t want to be reason why you lose everything. He loved you too much to see y—

You hugged him, crying into his chest, “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Oh thank God,” his arms tightened around you, feeling your form against him. Out of the blue you released a giggle through your tears. His brows furrowed, did he forget you’re crazy? Weren’t you just crying? You laughed again as he wiped away tears, “Sorry it’s just, we’re butt ass naked crying.”

He laughed, arm slipping under you and lifting you up bridal style, “Let’s get in the shower, you stink.”

“Hey!”

Shortly after he mumbled, “I’m your daddy now I guess.”

“Shut up.”

::.

ok y’all it’s not the best but it’s not the worst and that’s a win for me. I wanted more rockstar Tae but it was just too much to write and I don’t wanna do a second part

so maybe might do some drabbles. but here’s a moodboard I made while driving.

also if you don’t get the title

basically just saying that even if someone wanted to separate them, they were still gonna come back to each other this time much stronger and in love than before :)

#kpop #kim taehyung #Taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #taehyung au

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