college? like the fanfiction au?
I was the secret santa for @ladynoirist this year! 🎄💖
Your gift is a roomate/university AU with post reveal pre relationship Ladrien! In this AU they are roomates but don't do the same studies, Marinette has already passed all her exams but not Adrien! So she trolled him and brought some pastries so they can study together 🥐
Adrien doesn't like when she enters by the windows because it scares him everytime! Plus what if someone saw her? he won't refuse the snacks tho
Bonus background under the cut because I like the way it turned out
gojo’s service to an artist
warnings: male masturbation, edging, exhibitionism (??), dom!reader, artist!reader, sub!gojo, model!gojo
word count: 3.1k
summary: college student gojo satoru is notorious for having a fuck list, thanks to the dares of his friends. when your name was dropped on the list, gojo offered to be your model for your art piece. however, his plan backfired when he found himself desperately fucking your hand.
note: this is heavily inspired by a manga i read called Nude Model by Yamaguchi Tsubasa. go give it a read! don’t got time to proofread this because it’s too long : ( anyway, smut with a plot, ey? also, i think i’m too mean to gojo ♡
Just from hearing his name, two reactions are possible: women scowling in disgust or men patting his back as congratulations. With all of his alluring looks and sultry smiles, Gojo Satoru was famous in your academy for having a list of people he fucked, all thanks to his friends. What does he gain aside from pleasure? Reputation. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad. What mattered to him was that people knew him whenever he walked down the hallways and volunteered to submit the papers of your class to the professors. He made sure that his name would constantly escape everyone’s lips. To you, Gojo Satoru was, simply, an attention whore.
This is why you weren’t even surprised when you heard a sudden bang behind you. Without turning, you knew it was him opening the door and entering shamelessly. He comes in almost every day, making sure to leave reminders, may it be insulting your artworks or subtle touching your shoulders. He does this even though you reciprocate his advances with a blank look on your face, clearly showing your disinterestedness. You knew why he was always there. Gojo and his friends made a bet, and it involved you.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Did you miss me?” Gojo asked as he walked to your side. You paid him no attention as you picked up a particular pencil for the shade you want to make. “Not a landscape today? Are you finally gonna make something that actually looks good?” You kept your mouth shut.
Gojo pouted and began roaming the room, looking for god-knows-what.
“I don’t understand how this is supposed to be art. It looked like you just splashed random colors.” You frowned in annoyance when you heard things cluttering behind you.
“Oh my, y/n. I didn’t know you’re a fan of adult magazines.” You gritted your teeth, feeling your bar for annoyance filling up. Gojo continued, “Do you get off with this when you’re bored?”
You stilled your hand and turned towards him. The last thing you wanted was rumors going around with you owning a porn magazine and masturbating on it in a spare room.
“I don’t have a model, so I’m using them as a reference.” Without missing a beat, Gojo gasped dramatically. You realized you gave him an opportunity, making you curse in your head.
“I can model for you! For free unless you want to pay for my services, of course.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t need—” You sighed, but Gojo was already taking off his shirt. You averted your eyes. “You don’t have to take off your clothes.”
You heard him snicker. “Too late!”
You groaned inwardly, cursing at yourself for taking his bait. I shouldn’t have answered him, you thought. Rumors might be better than this. Rumors will eventually die down, but this... this will be forever burned in your mind. The beautiful dickhead, Gojo, naked and posing for you.
“Done! What pose should I do?” Looking up from your canvas, you saw Gojo sitting down on a table, wholly and utterly butt naked.
“Whatever you find comfortable.”
You’re used to seeing naked people in paintings and statues. You visit a lot of museums to gain inspiration for your works. However, nothing beats the nudity that Gojo displayed. His arms and thighs were toned, imitating the muscles you often saw on Greek sculptures. Firm pecs and abdomen presented themselves for you. You took note of some softness on his hips. You were sure that the texture would be similar to how sculptors make clothes look smooth if you gripped them. Hard but smooth. Firm but soft. And when you glanced at his face, you’re rewarded by a sly grin and pink cheeks. He’s confident but also embarrassed. You concluded then that Gojo Satoru is full of contradictions.
You didn’t comment, though. Gojo is beautiful, sure, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of your admiration. Instead, you picked your pencils and charcoal and started to trace his figure. He was leaning back on his arm with his legs folded on his chest. You didn’t know where he had the idea, but it was enough. It took you several minutes to entirely create his body. The session included your constant glances at him then turning back to your canvas. Sometimes, you would hear him release a shaky breath which made you want to offer him a break, but the reflections in his eyes were clear, so you bit your tongue and continued. Minutes later, you saw his legs shaking while you were adding shades and tiny details. Still, you were reminded of his look earlier, so you didn’t comment.
Eventually, Gojo let out a small whine almost lost in the wind if not for your keen ear. You lifted your eyes to see him panting with his eyes closed. The area of his chest and neck, which paralleled the color of his hair, had turned reddish. Flushed cheeks were puffing as he huffed. You were done with your piece, but you didn’t voice it out. Feeling a sudden rush of heat, you tilted your head. The view you’re seeing was very, very different from earlier. His confident grin was gone, replaced with an opened mouth.
An idea occurred to you. Biting your lips, you stood up from the stool and grabbed Gojo’s clothes without him noticing. You crouched near his ear and whispered.
Surprised, Gojo yelped, eyes opening wide as he tried to sit up correctly, but you circled your arm on his shoulder, stilling his movement. The angle made him lean on your chest with his head beside yours. Slowly, you brushed your lips to his ear, evoking a shaky breath from him.
“You’re so rude, Gojo. You offered your help, but why do I feel like I’m being taken advantage of?”
Before he could say anything, you stood up and threw his clothes to his lap. You made sure not to look between his thighs as you finally smiled at him. He stood shakily, using his clothes to cover his crotch, but you were already aware of his situation.
“Thanks for your service, pretty boy. You can leave now.”
Gojo didn’t get what he came for, so you were sure that he would come back. Days later, he did. And like the usual, you didn’t acknowledge his presence, daring him to speak first.
“I hope you didn’t use my body as masturbation material.”
You hid a smile, knowing that the reason why it took him days to come back was because he’s wondering how to approach you again. And what he came up with was his usual lines, insulting and perverted. You answered him, giving in to his words.
“I’d rather use my magazines.”
He scoffed. “We both know that’s a lie.” He walked towards you, looking at your canvas with his hands on his hips.
“You’re doing abstract?” You shook your head. “Then I’ll model again. You’re so lucky; you should feel privileged.” His visit, this time, you noticed, was filled with a sense of desperation. His friends must have had teased him, you thought. They were probably telling him to hurry up.
“Though this time, I want you to pay attention to me, y/n.” You raised an eyebrow at this, surprised at his order.
“Should I?” You challenged.
“Look at me while I undress,” he purred, lifting his shirt off his head. He took his time taking off his belt, black trousers, and boxers. Within a minute or two, Gojo was standing in front of you, naked. This time, you didn’t avert your eyes. You stared at his body, taking note of the curves and edges. Your eyes trailed down and stayed. Your gaze felt heavy on his frame that he couldn’t help the chill that crawled down his spine.
Suddenly, Gojo cursed, curling his body. “Wait. T-this is. It shouldn’t...” he trailed off.
You didn’t let the opportunity slip by. Gojo was showing his vulnerability, and you grabbed it, not letting go. You leaned towards him.
“Stand up straight and look at me. I thought you said to pay attention to you.” You demanded while Gojo stuttered.
“Wait. Just...w-wait for a minute.”
“If you can’t do this, leave.” You were bluffing, of course. No way in hell were you going to let him leave now, not after you waited for a few days for him to return, not after you longed to see him blushing with a raging boner.
You expected him to leave but were surprised when he pulled your arm and pulled you to the floor with him sitting on your stomach. Your back hit the wooden floor, and you grimaced at its coldness. Shivers touched your skin by the expression he wore as he looked at you. His pale eyelashes shadowed his eyes, making him look drunk on...on whatever it was that he wanted. His mouth opened a bit when he panted, hands holding your shoulders down.
“You’re so mean, y/n,” he whined.
“You don’t seem to mind.”
“C-can’t you help me out?”
You tilted your head to the side.
When his friends suggested your name, Gojo Satoru thought that this was going to be easy. You were the kind of girl that everybody thought was quiet, prim, and proper. You were always appropriately dressed in your uniforms, without a hint of crease and stains. Always too good in art courses than the others. When his friends bet your name on that list, Gojo found himself wondering how to seduce someone who preferred to be coated in paints than to make talk to other people. However, this was far from what he imagined.
“Of course, I could. You even helped me out from pure kindness, right? So I should repay that but honestly, Gojo...” Letting out a small smile, you said, “First, I wanna see a good show.”
He immediately understood what you were insinuating. He sighed shakily, biting his lips, contemplating. He could easily persuade you, no, seduce you, but for some reason, he found himself wanting to be at your mercy. So he did what he does best. He leaned back, hands on your thighs, bashfully displaying himself.
“Isn’t this worthy of a show?” He glanced down his stomach and looked up to see you staring at his face.
“That’s not the show I wanna see.”
Gojo huffed. “Fine, but after this, you gotta let me...”
You raised an eyebrow. “Let you what?”
“F-fuck your p-pu—” Whatever he was planning to say died in his mouth, replaced with cheeks burning in embarrassment. You felt the urge to smile but held it down. Cute. “I-I’ll start now.”
“No need to tell me.” For good measure, you snickered, causing his cheeks to become even redder.
With shaking hands, he gripped his dick. You can’t really say if it’s big due to your inexperience in this field, but you could say that it was thick; girthy is the right word for it. The head was leaking with precum, and of course, you decided to tease him about it.
“Aw look at that. Your dick is weeping. Are you that desperate to fuck me? I bet you’ll look the same later.”
“Go faster.” And he did, his hands stroking fast, never missing an inch. As much as you’d like to focus on his hands as he jerked himself on top of you, you know what really mattered was his reactions. Gojo wasn’t even trying to hide his moans. His mouth seemed permanently open, groans and moans slipping freely. His eyebrows scrunched up in concentration to make himself cum. When he started moving his hips towards his hands, you knew he was close to cumming.
“Stop.” He jerked from your voice and frowned but didn’t stop. “If you’re not going to listen, then leave.”
“N-no. I’m s-so close!” Gojo let out a broken sob. You patted his quivering thighs, and he stilled his hands. Panting, he groaned.
“Tell me, Gojo. Did modeling for me turned you on?”
Slowly, Gojo’s breathing became even as he registered your words. Nodding, he said, “I-I liked having your attention.”
“Really? Do you always get off to people watching you touch yourself?”
“Does that matter n-now? I gave you your show, so what now?”
“Oh, Gojo. But I said a good show.” You smiled. “Do it again.”
Gojo Satoru, ever the attention whore, jerked himself off again. And again. And again. He didn’t even realize that you were edging him without even touching him. His pale face became sweaty and red. His luscious hair stuck on his forehead from sweat. His lips were red from constantly biting them. But what changed the most after repeatedly telling him to stop and go again was his eyes. Moans became breathy and desperate. Groans turned to sobs. His usual clear and sultry eyes became dilated, unfocused, and brimming with hot tears.
“Are you gonna cum?”
He shook his head no while continuously fucking his hands. By his uneven breathing, you knew he was lying, so you told him to stop. What were you doing? But of course, seeing how long it takes to break Gojo Satoru. And because you’re counting, this was the sixth one, if he would follow your instruction.
Gojo, such an attention whore, always looking for validation, seeking appreciation, let go of his red dick. When he did, he cried out, annoyed and desperate.
“I-I can’t. It h-hurts. Please.” Sobbing, he stared at you, eyes begging, longing. He was deprived of his long-awaited orgasm that it started to get to his head. It didn’t matter anymore if he looked disgusting with his tears and drool mixing; he wanted to cum; he needed to cum. He’s getting desperate to please you just so he can have your permission.
You studied his face.
“Get up.” His face lighted up in excitement. Finally, finally, you were allowing him to fuck you. With shaky legs, he stood up, followed by you. Dusting off your clothes, you sat down on the stool before your canvas.
“Now, Gojo. Why don’t you pose for me?”
He hated it. He hated this. They made a mistake for picking you. You weren’t quiet or proper; you were cruel and mean. You enjoyed seeing his face crumble when you denied him again. His chin trembled. When he sat down on top of the table, he was already crying, snot falling from his nose. Broken sobs escaped his lips, and you compared his face to the state of his neglected dick.
Minutes later, you were humming as you drew him. His posture, this time, showed his throbbing dick, and you outlined it on your canvas with all of your heart. Next was the details of his face. Poor, poor Gojo. His face was all scrunched up, rewarding you with a mess of blushing wet cheeks and red crying eyes. Several minutes later, you saw his dick leaking so much precum while he calls out for you, begging for your undivided attention. You paid him no mind as you finished the last touches of your artwork. Standing up, ignoring the sudden cry of happiness in front of you, you stared at your work. The usual cocky, seductive, and alluring Gojo Satoru was drawn into a disgusting, desperate mess, begging for your attention, begging for you.
“Gojo, you did so, so well.” You walked towards him, and he opened his arms to beckon you closer. When you were in arms reach, he pulled you in and kissed you. There was nothing beautiful about it. His kiss was hot, dirty, and chaotic, fueled by his desperation. Shamelessly, he started rutting against your hips. You moaned against his lips, tangling your hand against the hair on the back of his head.
“Does this mean I can finally fuck you?”
You tutted, shaking your head. “Baby, do you honestly think I’ll let you add me on your great fuck list? Of course not.” You smiled innocently. “But because you did so well for me, you get to fuck my hand. Aren’t I so kind?”
Gojo buried his head on your neck as you felt his tears fell on your skin. “And you know what, Satoru? You’re gonna thank me for it.” With that, you brushed your hand down his chest and stroked his dick, pleased when you heard him hiss.
Your pace was slow, making Gojo’s mind numb. He needed more, and because he knew you weren’t going to give him that, he started thrusting in your hand. Surprised by his actions, you laughed right on his flushed ears. You decided to help him on his desperate attempt by licking the inside of his ear while your other hand tweaked his stiff nipples. Gojo made a noise between a moan and a whine.
“Does it feel good?” But Gojo was already lost to the feeling between his thighs, moans slipping past his lips. You bit his neck, eliciting a cry from him. His hips continuously met your hand, repeatedly fucking himself on your hand.
“Y-yes! So good, so good. I can’t. P-please.” His mouth opened, grunting. Drool laid on your shoulder.
“Want me to stop?”
Gojo gripped your shoulders, shaking. “No! Please, please, no!”
“Then what do you say?”
“Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyou.” Gojo’s whole body trembled while whispering the words thank you. “C-close. ‘M gonna cum, y’n.”
You placed a kiss on his shoulder, “Cum for me, Satoru.”
When he did, his body shook with intensity while he cried out, moaning. His grip on your shoulder hurt, but it was nothing compared to the expression he was giving you. You felt him spill all over your hand while he slowed his thrusts. Moments later, Gojo was left panting, slumped over your body.
“Good boy,” you whispered, caressing his hair with your other hand.
When he whimpered, Gojo understood his position with you now. He failed to add you to the list. His friends will probably shame him for that, but that was far from what he was thinking at the moment. Thinking back, maybe it was you who was seducing him. Faking your indifference whenever he visits and when he proposed to be your model, you were already planning this.
Astonished, Gojo pulled back from you.
A mean grin split your face. The innocence was gone in your face, replaced by a wicked glint in your eyes. Grabbing the back of Gojo’s neck, you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, drawing out a moan from Gojo’s mouth.
“I still need one more reference for my work. I expect you to come by again tomorrow?”
With a nod, Gojo fell for your trap, always pursuing your attention. Gojo was finally your attention whore, and it seemed like Gojo finally understood art because he found himself seeking you every single day.
©2021 hopiiiie. all rights reserved. no reposts and other modifications allowed.
»The professors best student«
Professor!James 'Bucky' Barnes x female student reader [University AU]
Summary: Professor Barnes is your thesis chair at university. Every once in a week you meet in his office to check over your work and talk about your thesis, and every once in a while you let your mind wander and get horribly distracted by your handsome mentor.
Warnings: explicit smut, age difference, oral (f receiving), office sex, fingering, praise kink, sexual tension, light possessive behavior
Notes: This fic is entirely inspired by this photoshoot 🤤👌🏻
🤍 read it on ao3 | my masterlist 🤍
You tap timidly on the doorframe, peering over the threshold to find Professor Barnes lounging back in his desk chair, speaking softly on the phone. Whoever is on the other end must have said something funny because his face breaks out into a beautiful smile, one the only gets wider when he hears your knock and looks up to find you watching.
“Alright pal, I’ll talk to you later.” He puts his phone down on the desk and beckons you forward. You take a seat in the cushy leather chair he has set out for students, placing your bag neatly at your feet, crossing your ankles and tucking them to the side. There’s something about being in Professor Barnes presence that makes you want to be prim. Want to come across proper and beautiful and refined.
The brunette leans forward, elbows on the surface of the desk, chin resting on clasped hands.
“I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”
“Not at all!,” you’re quick to confirm. “And that phone call seemed important.” He lets out a warm chuckle and you curl your hand into a fist, letting your nails bite into your palm to dull the swooping feeling that overtakes your internal organs.
“So I assume you’ve finished your thesis?” He reaches a hand out then. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”
You hand him the binder over the desk and the two of you settle into your regular weekly routine of dissecting your current progress. Of course, its more of him talking than you. It’s always him talking. And you love it that way. The way he drops his nose into your work, focused on your words and waxing poetic about your structure and sources and approach –it gives you the time to appreciate all the things you love about him. For starters, the way the muscle of his forearm flexes as he drags a guiding finger across the page in time to his reading –exposed as it is where he rolls his long sleeves up to the elbow by 3pm. It’s now 6pm, as it always is for your weekly check-in, and the setting sun outside his window bathes him in a warm light.
At one point, when the shadows grow too long, your Professor switches on a small desk lamp to guarantee he’ll be able to still see the pages of your binder even as the sun disappears for good, as it often does during these meetings.
This week you’re lost in thought as you take him in. Professor James Buchanan Barnes. Your thesis chair. Your mentor. But also, Bucky, how his friends and colleagues call him– an extremely handsome, well build middle aged man and the star of all of your fantasies. The subject of your nighttime musings and the daydreams that come, unbidden, as your eyes slip out of focus during class, blurring his muscular figure in the middle of one of his lectures, leaving space for your mind to manipulate his form into every position imaginable.
You watch his large hands turn a page in your binder deftly. The broad fingers that you picture sliding across your skin the way they slide across the paper. Fingers that would fit so perfectly inside you, in whatever capacity he wished…
Your thoughts trail off as the sound of your name brings you to a sudden awareness, realizing from the tone that it has been repeated, and possibly more than once based on the sympathetic look on his face.
“I-I’m sorry, did I space out?” you stutter, feeling hot embarrassment spread over your whole body to the roots of your hair.
“A bit, yeah.” He is still sympathetic. You hope for a second that he’ll take pity on you, chalk it up to exhaustion and let it go. But the stare he fixes you with is nothing short of intense as he closes your binder, seeming to consider something.
“It’s been a really hard day, I’m sorry Professor Barnes—”
“Bucky,” he corrects without missing a beat. His brow furrows. “It’s just the two of us so what’s with the formality? You can call me Bucky."
You take in his quizzical face as you gape back, not sure that there’s really anything you can say that will appropriately explain the way your brain has tuned into a channel that’s exclusively made up of static. The way your tongue has gone fuzzy and heavy in your mouth.
“Is everything alright? You were like this today in class as well. And the last few classes, come to think of it,” Bucky goes on to observe. He clasps his hands over your binder on his desk and your eyes immediately follow the motion – a fact he does not miss. “Always staring, I’ve noticed, at my hands.”
Your eyes slam shut quicker than they’ve ever done before and you suck in an exhale so fast in practically sounds like a hiccup. You can’t see him anymore, but you can hear the low chuckle that rumbles from somewhere in the bottom of his chest. Panic makes your throat feel parched, makes your tongue dart out to wet your lips instinctively. When you open your eyes you find his trained on those wetted lips before slowly lifting up to hold your gaze.
“Any reason for this?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
You must be dreaming.
You’ve had these dreams before. They are the best kinds. The ones that sound like shitty porn but in the best way because they are perfectly tailored to your interests, your desires, your preferences. 'Dream Bucky' has asked this question before, when your head laid on your pillow at two in the morning, a hand buried between your thighs. You know the answer you often gave 'Dream Bucky', so almost on instinct you offer it now.
“I’ve found myself… distracted lately.”
“Are you suggesting that I am the distraction?”
Right on cue. The slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. The playful nature of the question… You have to be dreaming.
“Y-Yes, professor“, you mumble shyly.
It’s small, the reaction. The tightening of his jaw, so infinitesimal a lesser observer might not have noticed. However, you –a student of the planes of this man’s face– immediately notice the way the angle of his jaw becomes sharper. The way his cheek sucks in just a little, just enough to make his cheekbone a fraction more prominent. His teeth must be set on edge because he rolls his jaw for a second before parting those plush lips. So plush and so pink, a color you’ve wanted to taste and touch before putting a name to it.
“If I have been compromising your ability to focus on your studies in any way, I promise that it’s not been my intention.”
The words are so well chosen, kind and yet so silky smooth in their delivery, it’s like he’s practiced them before, just in case this topic would ever come up. It makes you smile.
You might be a good-girl-to-the-core in real life, but you’ve always given 'Dream Bucky' a bit of a hard time.
“Are you sure about that?”
Bucky’s smile expands to mirror your own. He leans back in his chair a bit, settling his still clasped hands over his lap, now out of view behind the desk.
“I might have derived a bit of pleasure from recognizing that your lack of focus was my fault,” he says with a nonchalant shrug.
“So you admit it?”
“What exactly am I admitting?”
“That you were actively trying to distract me.” You cross your legs one over the other and lean forward, knowing that the new position allows your skirt to ride up a bit and expose your thighs a little more. Knowing that with Bucky’s height and this angle, your cleavage will appear to its best advantage. The need to remain prim and proper which you had felt so deeply in your bones upon entering this office melting away as fire heats up in your core.
“Only on one condition, doll.” Bucky cocks his head to one side before continuing. “You’d have to admit you’ve been trying to distract me this entire time as well.”
The breathless laugh that you let out is genuine.
“I absolutely have not.” But Bucky is shaking his head vehemently.
“With those skirts and those thigh-highs.”
“T-That’s fashion!” you protest, pulling your skirt a bit lower unconsciously.
“Giving me eyes. Biting your lip when you raise your hand. And how desperate you are to get my praise.” He’s teasing you. It’s clear in his eyes that none of these things are meant to be admonishments.
“Oh, excuse me Professor Perfectly-fitting-khakis,” you toss back, rolling your eyes. Bucky looks pleased.
“Ah, so you have been checking me out?”
“And apparently you have been as well,” you counter gesturing down to your lower half, decked out in said skirt and thigh-high sock combo. Bucky looks down at you appreciatively for a moment before leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands and his elbows on the surface of his desk, watching you.
“The khakis, hm? Anything else?”
“The… the tweed jacket you sometimes wear,” you affirm, cheeks blushing a deep red as you’re leaning forward a bit more. “And the sweaters.”
“The sweaters do it for you?” Bucky looks taken aback, even more so when you nod carefully. After a second of gazing at you he narrows his eyes a bit. “You do realize those are the most stereotypically 'professor-y' things about me?”
You fight the urge to avert your gaze under the weight of the implication and maintain the eye contact.
“So this is a type for you? You like… the professor look?” His voice has dropped a bit in volume. You look down for a second to consider your reply before looking back up at him through your eyelashes.
“I like it on you, Professor.”
You both let the statement echo in the air between you for a moment before speaking again. It is Bucky who breaks the silence first.
“I don’t do“, he clears his throat, "This… you know.” His voice is genuine – more than it has been up until this point – and his eyes are soft. As if giving you an out, pointing the direction to a clean exit. “This isn’t appropriate,” he adds.
“I know.” You almost whisper now.
It’s odd. 'Dream Bucky' usually goes straight for it. You’ve never experienced this kind of confrontation or hesitation in your nighttime fantasies. It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach to think of the outlandish possibility that this might, in fact, be happening in real life.
“But you want it?” The question is quiet.
“Yes,” comes your equally quiet response. His eyes darken considerably and your stomach flips at the suddenness of the change.
“What do you want? Tell me.“
You consider this for a moment. What do you want from him? You go down the laundry list of your fantasies. You want him to take you in his arms and make sweet, sweet love to you. You want him to throw you over his desk and fuck you so hard, you‘ll be feeling him for the next few weeks. You want to moan his name until it reverberate through his little office and out into the night. However, in this moment when dream and reality seem to mix in the air between you, air made humid by want and hesitation and uncertainty, you realize that all of these things feel like too much too ask. Too much to wish for.
And yet Bucky is staring at you, his eyes big and waiting and curious.
So you answer. And you aren’t greedy. But you are honest.
“Touch me… please.”
The change is immediate. The threshold is crossed. The barrier breached. Bucky nods slowly as he pushes his chair back a bit from his desk.
“Well then come over here, doll.”
You don’t think, you just act.
Because in this moment it doesn’t matter that Bucky is your professor. It doesn’t matter that he’s your thesis advisor, your mentor for that matter. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than you. All that matters is that the eye contact between you acts as a tether, pulling you up out of your chair and around the desk to the space in front of him, where you step between his legs silently, without specific prompting.
Bucky’s clasped hands are back in his lap and he leans back in his chair, looking up at you. Drinking you in.
“You promise you want this, doll?” His eyes are gentle. Again giving you a way out. An exit opportunity that you do not desire. You lean forward slowly, testing the waters as your hands make contact with his broad, solid shoulders. The first time you’ve ever truly touched the man who’s starred in your fantasies.
“More than anything.” You could be ashamed of how much that sounds like shitty porn, but again, you couldn’t care less. Not when his skin is hot beneath the fabric of his sweater. Not when his hands lift from his lap then to slide around the curve of your hips. Not when you look down to see that they had been hiding the growing bulge which now tents his slacks so deliciously you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re anything but inexperienced but there’s something about this grown man absolutely devouring you with his eyes that makes you feel small and soft and vulnerable.
His massive hands glide around your hips to gently massage at the globes of your ass before smoothing back up to the dip of your waist. He squeezes twice at the flesh there while looking at you with hooded eyes.
“Can you hop up for me?” Bucky’s voice is low, hands pushing you gently backwards toward the desk which you hop up on without further prompting. Bucky stands then to move between your open legs before you can try to close them demurely. You feel the thickness of his body as it slots against your inner thighs. Air leaves your lungs in a gust when Bucky, now towering over you, grabs hold of you.
The solidity of his hands on your body, the pinch of his grip on your waist, the hard nudge against your inner thigh, the warmth of his breath on your cheek – all of these are grounding. They are real. Your brain lurches forward at the realization that this is, in fact, happening, just as your body lurches forward to pull him down in a hungry kiss. Bucky catches up quick, one hand flying to the back of your neck to bring you in close while the other gropes down to steady himself on your upper thigh.
Feeling his digits so close to where you want them has you pulling your legs open wider. Willing him to take things a step further. This doesn’t go unnoticed and soon Bucky is pulling away, chest rising and falling as he pants from the force of the kiss. His eyes are even darker now, lids hooded as he takes in your parted, now-swollen lips and your own lustful expression.
“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” He asks the question on a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. You shrug in his arms, distracted by the way his hand begins to smooth back and forth over the fabric of your skirt before finally dipping under the hem to caress the skin at the seam of your inner, upper thigh.
“You’ve tried to get my attention, but I don’t think you truly understand how maddeningly successful you were.” His hand slides under your skirt to cup your mound – but just the top. Not the dripping heat below, where you really want him. He’s too busy trying to make a point you’re barely able to follow. “You carry yourself with such grace, such poise. You’re radiant when you walk into a room, and even more radiant when you open that pretty mouth up to speak.”
The hand at the back of your neck pulls around to trace the outline of your lips. They quiver under his touch and part unconsciously. This seems to please Bucky, who pinches your bottom lip lightly between his thumb and index finger as he continues.
“The way you handle yourself, the way you think and articulate – it’s mesmerizing, you know that, don’t you?” He leans forward to press kisses to your jaw and the space below your ear. You don’t know what to say to that, not with his lips on you, so you just inhale deeply, holding onto his biceps. “You’re so capable. So sure.”
His thumb passes back and forth over your pubic bone down under your skirt.
“And you have no idea how many times I imagined to reward you for your good work.” His voice is so deep you feel it seeping into you where he murmurs it against the skin at the side of your throat. “How many times I imagined to fuck your cute tight pussy against my desk, because you’ve been such a good girl for me.”
The whimper that issues forth from you is completely unbidden and he’s quick to swallow it down. Sucking the sound in so it cannot echo through the room and give you away to anyone wandering the faculty wing afterhours, but also so that he can feel it vibrate down his own throat.
“You like that idea, too, hm?” He asks huskily when he pulls away.
“Yes,” you whisper, not wanting to break the spell of the moment by speaking too loudly. “I really do, Bucky.”
He chuckles against you quietly.
“There’s my girl. But perhaps this is a good time to call me Professor Barnes again, don’t you think?”
A thrill shoots through your spine, and though you feel no less fluttery and overwhelmed, you feel your nervousness and timidity begin to melt away. You’ve wanted this for how long? You’re going to enjoy this, damn it.
“You accused me of being into professors, but it seems that you are into students, Professor Barnes,” you point out playfully. Bucky kisses the corner of your smirk.
“Only when the student is you,” he replies, slightly echoing your earlier statement about your interest in him.
“Am I your favorite student?” Your smile broadens cheekily, only for your jaw to drop as his fingers suddenly breach the edge of your panties, finally finding your wet heat.
“What do you think?” His index finger slides through your folds, swirling around your waiting slick. You take the opportunity to drop your hand between you two, finding the thickened bulge pressing conspicuously into your thigh.
“I think you’re avoiding the quest– oh fuck!” You cut yourself off with a curse when he inserts two fingers straight into your cunt, stretching you open abruptly. The hand you have on his clothed cock squeezes, as does the hand you have on his arm, but Bucky manages to keep his cool, inhaling through gritted teeth. He waits a second before he begins pumping his fingers in and out of your clenching sheath.
“I’m not avoiding anything, I’ll give it to you straight, sweetheart.” He adds his thumb to swirl circles over your clit as he speaks, his fingers thrusting in and out of your body while it squelches around him.
“I fought off every other professor in this university for the chance to be your thesis chair.” Bucky’s other hand moves to the neck of your blouse to run the pads of his fingers over your throat and collar bone. “I turned away ten other applicants that semester that I had you TA for me.” He pops the uppermost two buttons on your top and leans forward to suck a hickey on your throat. “I’m the one who nominated you for that fellowship you deserved.”
“Professor Barnes I-I…” You’re too overwhelmed to continue. The information, his fingers, his lips –it’s all too much.
“So when you ask if you’re my favorite student, the answer is yes,” Bucky rumbles, licking a stripe up the column of your throat. When he reaches you ear he whispers in it, just as he doubles the pressure on your clit and curves his fingers to rub the upper wall of your cunt more pointedly.
“You can thank me by letting me see what it looks like when you cum on my fingers, pretty girl.”
It’s like your body is obeying to his words, because you do just that. „Oh fuck, god yes“, you moan and your legs shake around him and your hips buck, simultaneous seeking to increase and reduce the pressure onslaught being brought on by his talented fingers. A hand flails out to ground you to the desk, to the moment, and your palm splays blindly at your thesis binder. „That’s it, good girl, cum for me“, he groans and you let go.
As all your muscles convulse with the sweet, sweet pleasure, Bucky guides you down so that your back is flush against the surface of his desk. He leans down over your body, chest to heaving chest, to press kisses up your throat. Your jaw. Your cheek. Your lips.
You should have been allowing bliss to course through your bloodstream as you came down, but you find your mind immediately racing as you consider everything you should be doing in this next moment. You should return the favor. You should run. You should pretend this was a mistake, you should pretend this never happened, you should make sure it will happen again.
As if he hears the gears turning in your mind Bucky pulls back to take in your expression, holding himself up on his forearms on either side of your body.
“All good in there?” he chuckles. His eyes are still dark as they gaze down at you and his lips are kiss swollen. They look amazing, temporarily distracting you from your inner turmoil. So instead of answering him you lurch upward to pull him into another kiss, sweeping your tongue into his mouth with a little too much enthusiasm.
You also make a choice about what to do next, dropping a hand down to the front of his slacks to once again rest on his clothed cock. Bucky groans into your mouth in response.
With trembling fingers and unsteady breath, you moved your hands around to unbuckle his belt. You let it hang open as you move to the button and zipper, a little clumsy as you tried once, twice, three times to get the damned things open. You heard him chuckle a little as you finally succeeded on the third try, which choked off into a groan as you finally got a hand around his cock. "Hey, hey wait a second", Bucky stopped you before you could tug him out and you furrow your brows in confusion. "I‘m not done here yet. You think I’m able to stop myself now that I have you sprawled over on my desk?" He cocked his head to the side and you gulped audibly.
With a smirk, he shifted your legs higher so he could tug sharply enough to remove your skirt and panties completely. With lustful eyes, he spread your thighs again.
“That’s why you’re my favorite“, Bucky licked his lips hungrily, "Such a delicious looking pussy, all wet for me, isn’t that right?” He cooed at you, moving his thumb over your clit again. Your hips immediately moved into his touch, legs twitching from your previous orgasm. Bucky watched in satisfaction as you made a strangled noise in your throat and bucked into his hand.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, doll,” he leans over you, pressing his lips right to your ear, “You’re gonna cum for me again. I know you can, because your my best girl. And than I’m gonna fuck you against my desk, just like you’ve been dreaming of.”
“Professor B-Barnes!”, you almost sobbed, hips rocking against his hand like you didn’t just came, yet you were so turned on again —your blood felt like it was on fire.
“Mmm,” he smiled dangerously against your ear, “Gonna hear my name from you many, many times before I’m satisfied.”
“God, please,” you begged, blinking some of the fog away from your vision, watching him hook a foot around the chair behind him and drag it close enough to sit in. Your breath got caught in your throat when he turned his attention back to you; his smile was full of dark promise as he spread your legs wide, bracing his elbows on the desk as he leaned over your core.
You held your breath as he leaned far enough forward to stroke his tongue in one long lick up your wet slit. The breath exploded from you in a cry, and you lift your hips to chase his mouth.
Bucky only chuckled, pinning you easily to the table before bending his head to his task. He didn’t tease this time, going straight to long, slow strokes of his tongue and easing his lips against your sensitive, swollen clit. After a while, he snaked his tongue down and teased your entrance. You keened and arch your hips as much as you could against his grip, clutching the table over your head desperately. With a chuckle, he complied with your silent plea and thrust his tongue into you.
Bucky had to hold your hips down as you cried out and arched, muscles contracting as you tried to buck against his mouth.
“Professor!”, you moaned, unable to keep the words in, “Oh my god, fuck, please!”
Bucky watched your head roll back and forth on the table, thrusting his tongue as far as he could into you to hear you keep begging. Your words began to run together, morphed into sweet nonsense as the pleasure grew so sharp it almost hurt.
The brunette pulled back with a husky laugh, leaning his weight onto your leg to keep you pinned so he could use his left hand to help get you off, “How can I say no when you beg so nicely?”
You let out a moan that’s almost too loud when he puts his mouth back to your cunt and simultaneously rubs his thumb over your clit. At this point you’re panting desperately as he works you with his tongue and fingers, the heat building to a fever pitch in your abdomen.
You whimper, high-pitched and desperate when you feel the sharp lick of pleasure in your core that preceded a devastating orgasm, “Professor— I’m gonna’ come! Gonna’ come, fuck!”
Bucky groans against you, pressing closer to you, uncaring of the slick getting on his chin and cheeks. He speeds up the circles on your clit when he feels your inner walls tighten around his tongue.
You inhaled unsteadily as your body locked up, head falling back as Bucky brought you to the edge once again. With a sudden suck at whatever flesh he could suction into his mouth, he sent the orgasm crashing on you.
Your breath ripped from you in a short, sharp scream, barely muffled by the hand flying over your mouth. Your body arched hard as Bucky kept going, working you through it. He could feel your whole cunt contracting around him and you gushed against his mouth, making him groan in contentment. You rode the shockwaves that had your muscles twitching as best you could, whimpering and whining as Bucky continued until you were almost crying with overstimulation.
When your breathing shifted into sobs, he finally lifted his head. Bucky panted with you, looking over you with lidded eyes; you looked thoroughly debauched and fucked out. Arms limp above your head, face slack with pleasure, thighs spread around his arms, and pussy pink and wet from your arousal and his tongue.
For a moment he was silent, looking down at you with heat in his impossibly blue eyes, lids at half-mast, before he finally spoke. "You taste incredible, just how I imagined."
"Oh yeah?“, you giggle in between heavy breaths, "What do I taste like, Professor Barnes?" His mouth was turned up into a smug, satisfied smirk when he rose to his full height again, fumbling with his slacks to finally pull his cock out. The sight of his length and girth made you swallow hard and before he lined himself up with your slick entrance, he leaned over his desk to steal another kiss from your soft lips. It was hungry and you could taste yourself on his tongue before he draws away again and whispers lowly.
"You taste like mine."
haikyuu!! bad boyfriends: ushijima wakatoshi
tw: 18+, minors DNI please
noncon, domestic violence, gaslighting, humiliation, toxic relationship, heavy on violence, manipulation
summary: In this fic, Ushijima Wakatoshi is your college athlete boyfriend. He’s unaffectionate and cold, but you immerse him in love and adoration anyways. It’s your love language to give even if you don’t receive. Tonight, however, after a girls night in and hearing what all your friends’ boyfriends did for them for V Day, you’re annoyed. You make a snarky remark while you’re in bed with him, and he makes it a mistake you’ll never forget.
college/university AU | collegeathlete!ushi | popular!reader | Euphoria dialogue
Ushijima and you are practical opposites. He seldom speaks whereas you have no problem speaking your mind and snapping at anyone who crosses you. He’s a serious person while you love being loud and light-hearted, always the life of the party. In fact, Ushijima hates parties but you’re always looking to get drunk and be wild with your girlfriends. “Your favorite baddies on campus”, as your instagram captions declare. He’s unaffectionate and cold, but you immerse him in love and adoration anyways. It’s your love language to give even if you don’t receive, and you don’t mind. Give, you do.
Tonight, however, it’s different. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve reached your limit over how little he does for you. You meet Ushijima at the townhouse he rents with a few of his teammates. His eyes widen when he opens the door, getting a good look at you. You wear a tight black tank top that shows off your cleavage with hiked up neon gym shorts that emphasize your bronzed summer skin.
He’s thin-lipped but silent as he watches you take off your shoes. Ushijima puts his hand on your lower back, nudging you up the stairs when he sees your shorts barely cover your cheeks. He speaks low, leaning into your ear as you head up to his bedroom. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“Why?” You have a bit of attitude in your tone already.
“You know I don’t like it when you dress like that.”
“What? I can’t wear gym clothes?” You argue as you enter his bedroom. It’s dimly lit with his purple LED strips. The lights match the tone of the songs his speakers put out, another slowed and reverb hip-hop playlist as per usual.
You spin around and plop yourself on the edge of his bed, crossing your thighs and leaning back against your hands. He stands in the doorway, watching you push your boobs out at full display. You can see he’s getting irritated. Good.
You had picked your outfit strategically. You wanted him to burn the same way you were.
His eyes go down and up your body once more. “You know damn well no one is dressing like that unless they want people to look.”
You shrug. “So what if I do?”
He scowls at you, his mouth slightly open as he pushes his tongue against his molars. The fronts of his eyebrows perk up, but he’s very unimpressed. “You here to fight or here to fuck?”
You feel yourself between your thighs when he says that. You lean back on your elbows and open your legs, placing one of your heels on his bed frame. “Of course I don’t wanna fight. Come here, daddy.”
He closes the door behind him and comes up to you. He leans over you and wraps his arm around your back, picking you up without any effort and tossing you into the center of his bed. You have a small smile on your face as you give him a daring look. “Hi.”
His eyes trail down to your glossy lips. “Hey,” he responds softly.
Ushijima closes his eyes and kisses your lips softly. You kiss back, pressing your palm against his cheek. Your hand moves down to the back of his neck as you deepen your kisses. You squeeze your hand, pulling him in while he opens your thighs and gets his hips between your legs.
“Fuck,” he mumbles and you giggle. He gets up and takes his pants off.
You grin as he comes back to you as fast as he can. “I know you think I look sexy.”
“I don’t know about that,” He speaks low, although you just barely see the corners of his lips curl.
You hug him, feeling his toned pecs press against your chest. Your hands rub along his muscular shoulder blades, making you to sigh softly into his mouth. You know how much he likes that. He kisses you hard, pushing his tongue into your mouth before he slips his big hands under your back, squeezing your shoulders. You moan in response and massage his tongue with yours, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding yourself against his soft bulge.
You moan lightly. “Mmm, I want you so bad, daddy. Let me take your shirt off.”
“Okay, baby.” Ushijima moves down your face and sucks on your neck while you pull his shirt off his back. He wears that cologne you love that makes him smell like such a man. You wrap your fingers around his shirt and squeeze, pulling him closer while you grind against him one more before you strip him, tossing his shirt on the bed above you. Your hands move down to his bulge.
He’s almost completely soft. You slightly snap your head back in confusion, looking up at him. “Um, do you need help?”
“Uh,” He averts his eyes. “Just put your mouth on it or something.”
“Yeah,” You sit up and rub the side of his arm with love. “Lie on your back.”
He lies down and you straddle him, taking your tank top off before you bring your face to his pelvis. You look up at him, your eyebrows casting a seductive shadow over your eyes. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, baby —“
“I’m not ashamed,” Ushijima snaps. “I just need a minute.”
“No, I know,” You speak in a sweet voice, trying to soothe him so his ego doesn’t bruise. “Let me take care of you. Just enjoy the view,” you smirk and shake your ass as you stick it in the air, curving your back. You pull his black boxer briefs down.
You kiss his dick before you get started. You start pumping his length, thinking of how being with him has made you accustomed to taking such a big cock in your mouth. You drag your tongue up his base before swirling your tongue around his tip. Nothing’s happening. Is he serious?
Well, this does happen to him from time to time. He usually gets stressed because of volleyball. You know it’s not his fault, but still you can feel yourself getting more annoyed this time around. You know if you look up at him, he’ll get embarrassed, but you can’t help it. You steal a look and he groans in frustration, pushing you off.
You roll your eyes as he puts his boxers back on. “Yeah, well, you are the most emotionless person on earth so it makes sense.”
“The fuck is your issue, [name]?” He barks as he sits on the edge of the bed, his back to you. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”
Usually you’d ask him what’s wrong and try to make him feel better until he could finally get it up, but enough. It’s always about him and what you can do for him. You go off.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind too, asshole. I had to spend all of last night with the girls listening to them gush about their boyfriends and what everyone did for Valentine’s Day. They went all out. Even Arianna and Jess’s guys, and they’re not even officially dating.”
He throws his hand up. “[Name], do you really think I give a shit about those annoying bitches?”
“Ushijima,” You grab his shoulder and try to yank him so he looks at you, but he’s stoic and anchored, keeping his back to you. “I’m the one in the group who’s had a boyfriend for the longest. What are you gonna do when it’s our one-year? Send me a text? And by the way, they’ve noticed too.” You sigh, turning your head away. “They singled me out and asked me.”
Your boyfriend groans. “Just shut up —“
“And what was I supposed to say?” you yell. “Oh, my boyfriend said he wasn’t into that kind of stuff so I spent the night alone in my room watching rom-coms and eating ice cream like I had just gotten dumped.”
“I said shut up!” He grabs your face and thrusts you into the mattress like a lifeless doll.
Ushijima stands up and walks away. “Goddamn it.”
He moves to the other side of the room and sits on the chair by his desk. You watch him intently as you’re starting to get scared. He sits across the room with only one side of his face showing. His jaw clenches like it’s about to snap.
“You know what your fucking problem is?” His teeth grind together like he’s holding himself back from punching a wall. Or maybe you. “You can’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“And you can’t keep your dick hard,” you snap back, your heart rate soaring.
He looks at you, eyes stark.
“What’d you say?” he warns.
“You heard me,” you taunt, although you feel your mouth dry up almost instantly.
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t.” He talks down to you like he’s your father. “You wanna say it again? Huh?”
You swing your hand in the air. “You’re so fucking emotionless. That’s why you can’t get your dick hard, you dick.”
He lunges at you from across the room. He shoves you into the mattress, tossing you in again and again.
He doesn’t stop, not even when you try to sit up. Every time you do, he pushes you back in. You roll onto your back and start putting up a fight, smacking his hands away as he repeatedly pulls you off the mattress only to toss you back in. You manage to get in one hard slap that’s hard enough it hurts your palm too. It reaches the outer part of his arm. His eyes bulge like a feral animal and he pulls his hand back above himself. He swings forward with all the force he can round up, slapping you across the face.
It knocks all the air out of you, sending your cheek just over the edge of the mattress as you plummet into the bed. You start sobbing immediately, louder than you ever have before.
“You wanna fucking play, huh?” You hear Ushijima ringing in your ears, although his voice is low, shaking with anger. “You wanna play? Well there you go.”
You continue crying into the mattress, your whole body shaking. You gather yourself and sit up, holding your palm to your cheek. You look up at him. The asshole has no expression. Nothing beyond the anger. The anger in his forehead. The anger between his brows. The anger on the corners of his mouth. Nothing but anger and rage.
You pounce at Ushijima and push him, but you’re not a match for him in the slightest. He grabs you by the sides of your small arms and tosses you onto your back once again. He climbs onto the bed, straddling your hips to pin you down while he wraps his massive hands around your small neck. He starts squeezing the sides, not touching your windpipe, but the blood circulation starts to cut off. You feel your heartbeat pounding in your neck.
You squirm under him and try kicking your legs, but it’s no use. He’s a college athlete for a reason. His iron thighs have you locked.
You choke up. “Ushijima — I’m done — We’re through,” you manage through a strained voice.
“I’m breaking up with you!“ you yell at him like it isn’t obvious.
He stops. You watch as the rage slips off of him like silk, his shoulders relaxing. He pulls his hands away from your neck and sits back, although he stays on top of you.
You start hyperventilating while you sob. You pant loudly as you catch your breath in between your cries. The tears don’t stop streaming. When you finally focus on him again, you realize the rage is still there —
He slaps you again. One strike one side, then a boney-knuckled backhand to the other. You feel his fist sock into the side of your ribs. You groan in anguish as you attempt to roll over. “Ushi-!”
You try to grab his wrists in a desperate attempt to stop him, whatever he’s about to do next, but his fingers slide into your shorts and he rips them off taking your underwear with him.
You scream. “Ushijima, what the fuck is wrong with you?” The music feels louder. He slides in between your legs and grabs one of them, forcing your knee on top of his shoulder.
He pulls his dick out and starts to stroke himself. You whimper, getting to your elbows and trying to shuffle away, but his other hand grips your thigh that he’s hiked up, pressing your leg into his chest.
“Fucking let go, you psycho!” you beg.
“You want it so fucking bad, huh? Is that what this is? Trying to get a rise out of me?” He pants as he speeds up his strokes. “I’ve fucking had it with you, you whore. You and your friends think you’re such bad bitches, you’re just a bunch of fucking sluts.”
“You’re a sadist,” you cry. “You’re psychotic. You’re sick!”
“Oh, I’m a sadist?” He laughs as he lets go of his dick, now fully erect and wet with pre-cum. He shrugs. “Maybe you’re right, cuz you know what?” He leans forward, putting one hand on the bed to position himself while his other hand continues to grip your thigh. “You’re pretty when you cry. It makes me so hard.”
You feel his tip right along your folds and you use all your strength to wriggle free. But you can’t. You arch your back in fearful preparation.
He pounds into you. His thrusts rough and fast with no lead-up. It’s like he’s trying to tear you apart. “Stop it!”
Your scream is guttural.
He slides your knee off him in response, leaning over a bit. He smacks you in your face.
“Oh my god,” you weep, holding the side of your face as your eyes squeeze shut from the pain. Your whine is so weak and shaky as he leans forward to lie on top of you. You wonder if you’re going to die. You finally start to beg for your life.
“You want a dick stuffed in you so bad, hm? So take it.” He huffs and puffs over your face while his hands hold the top of your head. He’s huddled all over you. His arms on the sides of your head, closing you in. When he thrusts, the top of your head hits his palms, and when you open your eyes, his sweat-dampened hair that sticks to his dripping face is right on top of you. The only familiarity of Ushijima that remains is the smell of his cologne. It engulfs you completely. It’s not your favorite anymore.
“Ushi, stop,” your voice is now reduced to a weak breath. You have one hand to your face, pushing as hard as you can to stop the stinging. Your other arm is pushed against his adam’s apple, trying to get him off.
“Not until I blow this load in you. Oh, fuck.”
He starts moaning and telling you how worthless you are, like it gets him off to do it, and he needs to feel sweet release more than anything right now. He grabs the arm you have at his neck and pushes it into the mattress. He puts his forehead on yours. You feel his lips vibrate on your cheek as he says —
“You bitch. You fucking bitch. Take it. Fucking take it, you slut. Oh god, yes.”
He stops ramming into you and pushes one more time as far in as he can. Your sharp inhale is a weak, strained wheeze. He holds his head back and squeezes his eyes shut as he reaches his peak. You see the veins popping out of his sweaty neck, while a few beads of sweat fall down his cheek, mocking your tears. He opens his mouth and lets out a weak, strained moan.
Ushijima unloads and sighs, finally satisfied and relieved. He stays in you and only now does he grind slow, bringing down his pace while his sweaty forehead rests against the side of yours.
You stay put until he eventually pulls out and lies on his back. You roll off the bed and fall to your hands and knees. You can’t see anything, just dimly lit purple blurs as the tears block your view.
Your hands rummage over the floor, trying to salvage whatever clothes you can. You feel his warm cum drip down your thigh.
You grab your clothes and run into his bathroom, leaning against the door as soon as you close it behind you. You bend your knees a bit and hunch over, hugging your balled up clothes into your chest as you sob once again.
After a few moments, you put your clothes on the counter and lean against it, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup is a mess, the mascara all down your face. Your eyes, nose, cheeks, all red. Your eyes are especially wet as the tears just keep rolling, but you’re not sobbing anymore. Just tears leaking on a face that’s spent.
You wipe your thighs down, getting your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, or you don’t know what, off of you before you put your clothes back on. You move slowly as your ribs ache from his blows. Your whole body aches actually, especially your face. The swelling is already starting.
You run your hands under the cold water and bring them to your face. You stay there for a while, letting yourself catch your breath.
Once you collect yourself and wash off whatever mascara you can, although it really doesn’t help much, you fidget with your clothes a bit and then look at the door. Do you leave? Will he let you? What if you storm out? Do you have everything you need? Although those questions race through your mind, you feel yourself not wanting to go.
Your hand grips the doorknob and turns it, opening the door although you sense you hadn’t given yourself full permission to do that yet. You hadn’t come to any decision really, but the door opens, Ushijima standing right there.
He steps into the light and bends over the counter, turning the faucet on and washing his face. He puts some water in his mouth then spits. You watch him, like a fly on the wall, like you’re not even there.
He closes the faucet and looks at you through the mirror. You feel like you’ve stopped breathing.
Ushijima stands straight and turns to you. He feels taller than he is, like he’s towering over you even more than he used to. You don’t do or say anything. You just look at him. He’s always been a little intimidating, but now you’re fully scared. Your big doll-like eyes look up at him as you wait, unable to speak.
Your legs shake a bit but he doesn’t notice.
“What do you wanna do now?” he asks in an almost bored mumble. “You wanna go get dinner?”
Your mouth parts open in disbelief. It takes a minute. “What?”
“You wanna go get dinner?” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “Come on. I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”
“What? No. I’m leaving,” you say in an unconvincing tone.
Ushijima groans. “What is with your fucking attitude?”
“My attitude?” Your voice rises, shaking already as you fold your arms over your chest. “You hurt me. You forced yourself on me —“
“Oh my god,” he rolls his eyes. “I put you in your place. If you don’t like that, don’t show me an attitude. And I didn’t force — I’m your boyfriend.”
You try to speak, but you come up empty. Instead, your chin quivers and your head falls as you start sobbing again.
Ushijima snaps his tongue. “Aw, come on.”
He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you into a hug. He pats your hair and kisses the top of your head, squeezing you into his muscular chest. You start crying harder. You wrap your arms around his waist. He’s the one who hurt you, but he’s also the only person you want consolation from. That’s why you didn’t want to leave.
When you finally stop crying, he lets you go. “Let me take you to dinner,” he says.
“I…” You take a deep breath, feeling your lungs fill after such a long time. “I don’t want to do anything. I’m tired.”
“Okay,” he nods and turns off the bathroom light. “Come on. Come to bed.”
You take his hand and he leads you back into the dark, purple room.
read more haikyuu!! bad boyfriends
ice cream story 🍨
cw: suggestive content, minors and ageless blogs dni
hmmmm frat boy!osamu who only joined bc his twin convinced him to and bc the house looked nice. who doesn't care for the parties so he keeps a "KEEP OUT" sign taped up on his door. frat boy! osamu who is bewildered when you come stumbling into his room, crying bc you just got cheated on. frat boy!osamu who offers to walk you back to your dorm because he's a gentleman, and when he spots you in ECON 1100, he sits next to you and checks up on you. frat boy!osamu who brings you around to the house to study, watch movies, and eat his food with him. frat boy!osamu who makes sure to continue to put up the "KEEP OUT" sign anytime you're over because as soon as the door opens, they'll find him with his head between your thighs.
Copyright © 2021 oooobokuto.tumblr.com - do not copy, modify, repost, or translate any of my works. any action to do so will be considered plagiarism.
Ruin Me, Pretty Please? (Part 4)
Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader
NSFW CONTENT (18+ ONLY)
Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the campus’s it-boy. Y/N is a socially anxious recluse. When Jungkook accidentally witnesses Y/N’s sexually sadistic nature, it awakens a new side of him.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5
Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, female domination, jealousy, male wearing female underwear, punishment, mentions of past uses of safe words, crying during sexual acts, voyeurism, sexual acts with risk of getting caught, slight thigh-grinding while making out, insinuation of orgasm control
“There’s twenty minutes until this lab holds a class.” You say, almost bored. There’s a clear juxtaposition of your stoic face and your eager hands stroking Jimin’s length. When he registers your words, the adrenaline rushes to his cock immediately. He knows you. You aren’t going to let him go until the last minute before someone comes in, and that both terrifies and excites him beyond belief.
“Fuck…Y/N” He hisses as your fingernails lightly trace over the design of the fabric. You examine the way the pastel pink thong hugs his crotch just right, while also making his creamy thighs look even more delicious in complexion.
“Minnie, do you want more?”
“Mhmm yes please, please touch me.” He moans in a hushed voice, still trying to keep from making too much noise.
Then your hands stop their motions altogether. A wickedly saccharine smile dances across your lips as you make the next move. Jimin watches with bated breath as one hand drops to your side and the other travels up from his balls to the elastic waistband of the thong. You pull the band towards yourself as far as it’ll go…then lower it to where it’s level with his sex. Finally, you release the elastic and watch it snap against his already-painfully-erect cock.
The poor boy yelps and stumbles backwards as he feels the sting on his most sensitive skin. He searches your face, which shows no signs of remorse. You’re in punishment mode, and he knows better than to go against you at times like these. Shakily, he steps forward again—ready for your next move.
You repeat the motion, pulling the waistband as tightly as you can towards yourself, but this time your other hand cups his face.
“Which light?” You ask softly.
“Green” Jimin confirms. He’s only ever called red twice, back when you two were first establishing this dynamic and still trying to understand each other’s boundaries. After you had learned his body in and out --the way you know now--there hasn’t been a moment where he’s had to call red. Even in your strictest punishments, Jimin knows you’ll never hurt him in a way he doesn’t enjoy.
Your soft demeanor swiftly turns back to an icy one as he gives you the green light. Another snap sound fills the classroom, followed by a yelp once again.
“Only two and you’re already crying Minnie? Why act out if you’re gonna be so pathetic when I punish you for it? Hm?”
He knows your expecting an answer, but his mind is too overwhelmed with the stinging sensation rippling through his whole body. All he can muster out is a strained whimper.
“I asked” *snap*
“a question” *snap*
Your hand cups him as you say his nickname, trying to soothe the area as he catches his breath. Your other hand draws little circles on his wrist.
“I’m sorry” he breaks down in tears, “I’m sorry for being a brat. Please, no more. I won’t do it again.”
You take the sobbing man into your arms, body paralyzed with worry that you’ve taken things too far.
“Did-did I hurt you? Y-you didn’t say red…”
He pulls from the embrace and faces you, wiping his tears while shaking his head no.
“N-no, it’s not that. I just” he pauses to steady his frenzied breathing, “I just feel…stupid…for acting that way in front of Jungkook. You probably think I’m such a loser.” The words come out shaky and bitter.
“Jimin,” you pull him close, “I’ve never thought of you as anything remotely close to that. If I was actually mad at you, I wouldn’t have turned it sexual. I wouldn’t mess with you like that.”
“I know. It’s just that you hate clingy guys, and I feel disappointed in myself for becoming one. It’s not fair of me to put you in situations like that just because of this thing we have.” His voice seems more stable, but still plagued with sadness.
Your eyes catch the clock behind him. “We have three minutes until people start coming in.”
The man immediately scurries to make his bottom half decent. You continue talking as he fixes himself up.
“You’re already beating yourself up over it more than I am, Jimin. One mistake isn’t going to make me drop you. Did you consider dropping me the two times you’ve used your safe word?”
“No, but that was sexual, and we were still new to each other…”
“Doesn’t matter. You forgave me for accidentally pushing your boundaries—even when you had every right not to. And, now, you trust me enough to know I’ll never do something once I know you dislike it. Just like that, I trust you enough to know that you’ll do the same for me.”
Both of you, now decent, hurry out of the emergency door of the lab. You hear feet shuffling in through the closed doors, and Jimin looks especially relieved to have made it out on time.
“I will. If you ever do want to start seeing Jungkook, or anyone else, I won’t act like that again.”
It pains him to get those words out, but he knows he has to get his shit together if he wants to continue this thing. And he definitely wants to continue. He’s an adult who knew exactly what he was signing up for, and this jealous pang in his chest shouldn’t be a problem you have to solve for him.
Your warm smile is the only thing that makes saying that sentence okay. But he still needs to change the subject before an internal implosion takes place.
“You know, Y/N, you really are going to go broke if you keep buying me such pretty underwear.”
You burst out in laughter at the unexpected remark.
“Don’t worry, I actually got that one from my drawer. Washed, of course.”
Jimin’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, a violent blush staining his face. He was wearing your underwear?
“Why did you wash it?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he covered his mouth in embarrassment.
You threw your head back, laughter louder than before, but still not mocking.
Without even ten minutes passing, the events in front of you are starting to get harder to tune out. The girl keeps wantonly moaning between every kiss, and practically fucking herself on his thighs. You’re about to pack up your things to move to a less distracting environment when you notice Jungkook’s eyes on you. He’s looking at you as if you’re the most interesting thing in the world, while some other girl is licking the inside of his mouth and about to cream on his thighs.
“God, how did I find the perfect sub?”
The perfect sub. Jimin’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest at those words.
A week passes by with business as usual. You actively avoid Jungkook if you see him in the halls, and don’t ever look back in his direction during Anthro. You figure that your presence now will just make him uncomfortable, so you try to keep out of his way for his sake more than yours. Everything seems as if it’s falling back into place, until a mop of black hair and a sleeve of tattoos come into your vision. Jungkook is sitting in front of you, at the campus library, with no book or laptop in hand. What he does have a handful of, however, is some blonde’s hair as he shamelessly shoves his tongue down her throat. You quirk up an amused brow. If this is his way of dealing with rejection, then it’s harmless enough for you to not mind. Childish, but harmless. You resume your lab report, paying the two no mind.
Both of you are snapped out of your thoughts when blondie speaks up. “Jungkook,” she whines, loud enough for you and any poor passerby to hear, “how about I go under the table and suck you off? Wanna swallow your cum.”
As much as you enjoy the thrill of risky sex, you can’t imagine doing it this publicly. This girl is impressively shameless—admirably so. Regardless, you need to get out of here and focus on your lab report. As you stand up and finish putting your things in your bag, Jungkook turns away his gaze and responds to the girl’s offer.
“You can suck me off, but I won’t be coming.”
Both you and blondie are confused, but only she shows it on her face.
“Because” he smirks, eyes on you once again,
“I can only cum if Y/N gives me permission.”
Thank you once again for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @jjklovetattoos @lolalee24
𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚 - 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞
≡ Type: Ongoing series, smut
≡ Pairing: sub!vamp!sunghoon
≡ Summary: Sunghoon finds out that you're a dom and gets himself off on it.
≡ Contains: NSFW content, male masturbation, um sunghoon has tons of kinks
Revamped version. Contains subtle changes.
Head empty, Sunghoon doesn’t know how he even got in this position - his hand stroking his dick, his eyes fluttering close, masturbating to you. He just… can’t get you out of his head. The way your lips move when you’re tutoring him, the way your hands fidget with your pen, even the scent of you - they’re all engraved into his mind.
He should’ve known. Looking back at it now, it’s pretty obvious. You’d always tease him, you like it when he listens to you, you like it when he does whatever you say, sometimes you even boss him around. You even called him a good boy when he got the questions correct.
Of course, why didn’t he think of that?
Hissing at the own touch of his hand, he plays back the conversation you had with your friend that he accidentally heard a few hours ago, the sound of your voice still fresh in his mind.
“I know it’s only the afternoon but fuck, I want to ruin someone.”
Then why didn’t you call me? Sunghoon can’t help but ask himself that question as his fingers play with his tip. I’d let you ruin me any day.
Closing his eyes, he imagines his hand being yours instead and moans at the thought. He wonders what you’d do to him, how you’d put him in his place, how you’d try to dom him. He always thinks that he’s not much of a sub but the idea of you domming him just turns him on way more than he’d like to admit.
Would you tease the shit out of him? Probably. You’d probably make him beg before you would even touch him. Would you edge him? Deny his orgasms? Overstimulate him until he cries? He doesn’t know but when he thinks about how fucked he would be and how good it would probably feel, he can’t help but think, fuck, that would be so hot.
The sound of a distant moan makes him fasten his pace and albeit he knows that he really shouldn’t get off on other people fucking, he can’t help it… because they sound like you. And for a moment, he wonders if it’s really you who’s currently fucking his dorm neighbour. He hopes not.
He’s pretty sure you’re into degradation. He can just feel it, you’d call him your dumb slut and make him fuck your hand. You’d call him a dirty boy as he tries to keep quiet since he doesn’t really want anyone to hear him while you’re busy riding his dick. He imagines you finding out about him jerking off to you. Maybe you’ll even make him tell you about all his fantasies of you.
You’d be surprised for sure if you found out about it. Because you’re so oblivious to his thoughts. Maybe you think that he’s so innocent and cute, he’d never do something so dirty like jerking off to the sounds of other people fucking. He thinks back to that one time when he just can’t stop thinking about having your mouth on his dick during one of his tutor sessions.
“What did you say?” You couldn’t help but smile as you asked him.
“Nothing,” he said in a quiet voice. Damnit, I wish there’d suddenly be an earthquake, he thought to himself, so it can swallow me whole. Wait, noooooo. That sounds dirty.
Groaning to himself, he covered his face with his hands as he felt heat rushing towards his ears and cheeks. At that time, he couldn’t stop thinking about you giving him head and swallowing all of his load. He was biting his lip at the thought, a moan threatening to come out as he thought about how sexy you’d look doing it.
Meanwhile you, unaware of how dirty his thoughts were, just smiled at him fondly, probably thinking about how cute it is that he got this shy over giving someone a compliment when in reality, all he was thinking is about you giving him a blowjob.
Sunghoon willed himself to calm down. It took him a while but eventually, he put his hands back down at the desk and cleared his throat. Turning his attention back to his work, he tried to shift the focus onto something else so he read out loud the first sentence he saw, “Marking your vampire partner at their erogenous zones during sex-”
He immediately stopped talking when he realised what he was actually saying, cursing whoever wrote this textbook and the universe for putting him in such a compromising position.
The thought of marking you and getting marked by you still turns him on and now he can’t help but wonder if you can actually do that. Maybe there’s some kind of potion or spell that can weaken a vampire’s regeneration ability? God, he hopes so. He wants to be marked by you so bad.
Thrusting into his own hand, Sunghoon can’t help but moan your name as he covers his face with his free hand. Oh, if only you could see him now, would you be turned on? He would be so turned on. Hell, he’d start begging you to touch him, to give him something. He’d take anything from you, anything at all.
Even a beating. Fuck, that’s hot. He doesn’t mind getting beaten up, getting spanked, getting slapped by you. He can see it clearly; he’d probably even tell you to do it again. With his hand now quickly stroking up and down his dick, he imagines you degrading him for being into these kinds of stuff.
“Wow, I didn’t know you’re such a pain slut,” he imagines you saying that to him. It turns him on so much that he’s just flat out moaning your name and saying, “Degrade me more please.”
He roughly thrusts into his own hand again, his actions getting sloppy because he’s getting close. He speaks in a soft voice in between moans, “I wanna… be your slut. Ugh, yes. Yes. Please. Fuck.”
He can’t help the whine that escapes from his mouth, he’s close. Fuck, he wishes he’s having sex with you instead of just jerking himself off. He wants his hand to be yours, he wants you to kiss him while he cums, he wants you to fuck him senseless, is that really too much to ask?
Moaning out your name, he continues, “I-I’m gonna cum, fuck.”
Trying to reach his orgasm, he fucks into his hand as if it was your cunt, he imagines you on top of him, looking down at him with a smirk on your face. Maybe you’d even let him cum inside you if he’s good enough. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
His orgasms hits him hard and he shudders in response as he cums all over his abdomen. He doesn’t stop touching himself as he rides the waves of his orgasm, it’s as if he’s milking out every single drop of his cum for you. Bringing his cum stained fingers to his mouth, he starts sucking on them, cleaning them as if they were your hands that got dirty instead of his.
When he finally calms down, embarrassment begins to present itself to him. Groaning to himself, he wonders what the fuck is wrong with him. Fortunately, he doesn’t have time to reminisce about what he had just done because he hears a knock on his door and he’s pretty sure that it’s you.
“Sunghoon? It’s me.”
Fuck. Praying to God that you hadn’t been here long, he quickly grabs the tissues next to his bed and starts cleaning himself.
“Yeah, yeah, hold on.” Even he, himself could hear how coarse his voice sounds, fuck, why did I think that masturbating right before my tutoring session was a good idea?
Once he has cleaned himself up and got dressed, he quickly goes to open the door for you. You look at him with a surprised look on your face. Looking him up and down, you ask him, “Were you masturbating just a while ago or something?”
His eyes grow wide as he panics for a moment, wondering if he actually got caught by you. Your signature teasing smile makes its appearance and you walk into his dorm room while saying in a teasing tone, “I’m joking.”
With his heart beating rapidly, he hopes you are.
Dark Academia Series Masterlist: Here
*laugh track plays*
i've got you
imagine: your roomate sirius has a realisation when he's taking care of you after a night out.
(requested by @sirisuorionblack - 📜 ty for the request love ur the best!! sorry its taken so long <3)
content: best friend roomate and kinda simp! sirius black x fem! reader, modern college/university au, crying, mentions of vomit (not the reader or sirius), mentions of alcohol & drunkeness, comfort & fluff
a/n: lol this is me using writing as catharsis because being the mum friend took a toll on me a couple weeks ago and i wish i had a sirius to look after me after something like this agsjsdgfdhd xxx
You sniffled, trying to stifle your impending sob as you set your room keys down on your bedside table, your tears stained with the glitter from your makeup that had been begun to run during the course of the night.
No matter how hard you wanted not to wake up Sirius, your semi-drunken stupor meant that you weren't aware of the fact that you were crying quite loudly by now.
Your grey-eyed roomate had been finishing up an essay that he had been procrastinating for a while, the only light illuminating your presence being his computer screen. But at the sound of your uncontrollable crying and aimless scuffling around, all his attention was now on you.
He'd found you alluring ever since he first laid eyes on you in the first week of university. And although at first the two of you were no more than mere acquaintances, after several random bump-ins and conversations where you found you had more in common than you thought, the two of you had become fast friends. So close that you decided to live together this year. But Sirius had been thinking lately... did he see you as the best friend that you were to him, or something more?
"Y/n, love?" he asked, getting up from his bed and walking over cautiously.
At the idea of having woken him up, you only got more frustrated with yourself. "I-I'm s-sorry, Siri. Didn't want to wake you up." You ran a hand over your messy hair, suddenly more self conscious of your appearance now that he was next to you. It was a new thing - you never used to care what you looked like around him. He was your best friend - nothing more, nothing less. But recently Sirius' eyes seemed a lot more attractive, his smile a lot more disarming... and his tattoos a thousand times more hot.
"S alright, doll." he smiled softly, flicking a switch behind you which filled the room with mellow light. "I was up anyway." Noticing your tear-streaked cheeks and quivering lower lip, his heart broke. Pulling you in for a hug, he asked, "how was your night?", before planting a kiss to the crown of your head.
"Awful, Siri." you breathed out into his chest, comforted by the warmth he provided. "I-It was a-awful." you began to shake again, your eyes stinging with new tears. But, you shook your head, pulling away slightly. "You don't want to hear it."
Sirius frowned, looking down into your eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair away from your face. "Of course I do, Y/n/n." he reassured you. "Let's get you cleaned up. I'll help you." And with a glimpse of your smile that made his heart flutter, he knew he could take care of you.
"So what happened, love?" he asked, stabilising you as you held onto his forearms while kicking your shoes off.
"Well, I just wanted a fun night out." Sirius picked up your shoes for you and tucked them beneath your bed. "And my friends agreed none of us would drink ourselves crazy so we could all have a nice time." you continued, sitting down on the floor while Sirius went to your drawer and got your makeup cleanser for you.
"But we got there, and everyone started drinking more and more..." you trailed off, biting your lip as you watched Sirius walk back to you and sit down next to you. "And then I was holding back people's hair while they puked or making sure they didn't go off with random people and trying to keep us all together." you frowned, your gaze intense on your fingers in your lap. "I was so worried, Siri. So worried." you whispered, shaking your head.
"I know, love," he said, bringing his hand to your cheek and turning your head softly so you'd look at him. "But you're safe now, okay? There's nothing to worry about now. I've got you." he kissed your forehead, his thumb lightly caressing your cheekbone.
"I know." you leaned into his touch. "I'm home." you whispered, almost imperceptibly, as your foreheads rested together.
"Ever since we started university, I've had to be like a babysitter to those friends. But I don't wanna be that - I don't wanna be the older sister friend or the mum friend." you confessed as your eyes fluttered closed, soothed by Sirius' touch. "I just want to be Y/n. Plain old, boring, Y/n."
Sirius smiled. "You could never be boring, Y/n."
At that, you scoffed slightly. "They all say I am. Every night we go out, they say I'm ruining their fun if I ask them not to go off with an obvious creep, or if I suggest that they've had enough to drink. Does that make me boring, Siri?"
"No." he replied immediately, shaking his head. "You're incredible, Y/n. Don't let them tell you otherwise. You're so sweet and caring, and you deserve all the nights out dancing that you want." he grinned, as you giggled slightly, blushing under his gaze.
Suddenly, you saw your phone light up from where you'd tossed it along with your coat when you first came in, several text notifications sounding from it. "Don't think about them tonight, precious." Sirius noticed the stress returning to your face as you nervously stared at your phone across the room.
Returning your gaze to his, you smiled. "Your eyes have a little blue in them." you slurred, reminding Sirius that you were still slightly drunk and slightly delirious.
"Oh, yeah?" he smirked, humouring you.
"Yeah." you giggled. "S pretty." you noted as you fiddled with his ring clad fingers that were rested on your lap.
At the compliment, he swore his heart stopped. But, he quickly regained composure. "C'mon love. Go to the bathroom and I'll have some water waiting for you when you get back." he patted your back, nudging you upwards and towards the door to the en-suite.
"You spoil me." you giggled as you teetered over to the bathroom.
Sirius sighed, eyes following you until you were out of sight. "Not nearly enough."
As the music of your humming drifted through the walls, Sirius smiled. Your singing was a habit he'd picked up on, which you did whenever you needed to cheer yourself up. As he prepared your bed for sleeping, he mused over the fact that being lovely was just who you were. And that being in love with you was something he undoubtedly was.
After a while, you emerged from the bathroom, catching his eye once again. After a moment or two of him staring, you tilted your head at him and smiled, furrowing your brow in confusion at how he was looking at you...
He quickly shook himself out of his trance, shooting you a grin. Without a word, you stumbled over to a bed, not caring whose, and flopped down onto it, pleasantly surprised by the distinctly Sirius smell of the comforter.
"Oh, no, doll," he chuckled, prodding your shoulder so you'd turn over. "You gotta put on some comfier clothes to sleep in."
"Mmm," you groaned, stretching and laying flat on your back, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. "Can't. Can you do it for me?"
He laughed at the fact that you'd caught on to the fact that he'd do anything you asked tonight, and nodded, rolling his eyes.
He obliged your request, slipping the straps of your slip off your shoulders and helping to wriggle off the clingy dress from your body and quickly replacing it with a baggy shirt of his own. You'd grown drowsy by the time he was attempting to take off your necklace, barely moving to help him when the clasp got stuck. So, he resolved to hover over you slightly to get a better angle.
After a moment or two, he heard you giggle beneath him again. You gazed up at him with a glazed-over expression, and Sirius found himself chuckling bashfully about the position you were in.
"Trying to seduce me, Black?" you teased, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers while rolling your hips up slightly into his.
He leaned his head down further, til your foreheads touched. "You wish, L/n." he grinned, nuzzling his nose with yours, before rolling off you, unclasped necklace in hand.
You giggled at his flirting, but soon forgot about it as a wave of fatigue overcame you again. "Can I sleep here, Siri?" you cooed, snuggling into his pillow.
"Course, love. Want me to take the floor?"
"Could you, um... Would you mind staying with me?" you asked, heart speeding up slightly again.
Sirius slipped back into bed beside you, allowing you to snuggle into his chest and dance your fingers across his abdomen.
"I always have fun when I'm with you." you mused sleepily, an absentminded smile on your lips as you felt his arms wrap around you.
"I'll take you out one of these days, doll." he promised, smiling. "You won't have to worry about a thing."
You grinned into his shirt. "That sounds lovely, Siri."
As the moon lifted in the sky and the night passed on, you found yourself falling asleep. But just before you did, you heard an utterance from Sirius that you'd wanted to hear forever.
"I love you." Sirius said, thinking you were asleep.
You smiled softly, away from his view, and while whispering a soft, "I love you too," you finally drifted off.
Trust me Masterlist
Start the year off with a bang, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. When y/n decided to sign up for a partner dance for her end of the year competition with her dance team, little did she know she’d be paired up with the one person she couldn’t stand most..Lee Heeseung.
pairing: non-idol!heeseung x female reader
genre: some fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, one-sided-pinning
warnings: swearing, mentions of depression, heartbreak
featuring: members of enhypen, members of itzy, member of aespa
release date: 09/15/2021
[all credit in smau is belonged to this account, please do not copy or steal work ]
profiles 01 profiles 02
02 Kiss ass
03 Let’s Gaurr
04 Brutal (written)
06 Come to mommy
07 What’s that smell?
08 Boy is duMb
09 🐝 cause (written)
11 On the MAIN
12 Defensive 👁 see
13 Jake from statefarm?
14 Laughing now
15 Stop texting Jake
16 Not again
17 You’re lying
18 No caption needed (written)
20 You’re pretty
21 Really smart yet really dumb
22 What’d I miss?
24 Operation: Thirst trap
25 Heart eyes
27 Overgrown child
28 Do you trust me? pt. 1 (written)
29 Do you trust me? pt. 2 (written)
30 Are they right? (Final)
taglist: @oureris @hoonbokki @lokideadontheinside @leejeneo @cha-raena @heeclowngf @jayla-lover @nyfwyeonjun @hobistigma @mykalon @witheeseung @msxflower @kingkaithekiwi @rinyx @studioreader
Here’s my sona’s ref sheet for the university au that @rainbowsans has been doing uwu!
library hymns — park sunghoon. strangers to lovers
sunghoon wants to find out who keeps leaving him a blanket and a bottle of water whenever he’d fall asleep in the library or “i work in the library and i’m a little concerned for your health bc u never stop studying” (4.4k words)
The wind picks up loose strands of your hair as you hurry towards the library of your campus where you’d worked every night for a few good months now. Today wasn’t any different, and you’re scrambling to make it on time for your shift.
Not that you’d miss much. Your 10pm-2am shift was often termed the graveyard shift — it was usually quiet which allowed you the time to do your homework or read a book you’d been meaning to for a while. At least that was the case when you first studied, but about a week ago, you’d had a constant visitor.
His usual setting? The campus library at 11pm. Cups of coffee hidden under the table in a weak attempt to conceal the fact that he was breaking library rules. He isn’t new to you at all - you’ve known him for a good few weeks.
“It’s that boy again.” muttered Wonyoung, with an amused look on her face. He usually frequented the library in the few minutes left of Wonyoung’s shift and almost the entirety of yours. He was mostly organized, sitting on the same table every night, a stack of books always piled on his table. You’d managed to get a small hint on what he majored, and judging by the glimpses you were able to steal on the cover of his books, you’d assumed he was majoring in Engineering.
Normally, you wouldn’t mind the lone student in the library until the crack of dawn. He was fairly attractive, and you didn’t mind having quite a sight to look at. Except, the dark-haired boy had a habit of falling asleep on the library table every night without fail, and you’re starting to get a little concerned for his health because - he never stopped studying.
You assumed it was because their major had started early this year compared to every other, filling the lonely halls of your campus with Engineering students since the month started. This must be a normal thing for them, studying until ungodly hours. And yet, every time your shift ended, you’d feel bad for leaving the boy with the cute smile sleeping with his arms as a makeshift pillow. So today, you took the liberty in buying the poor boy a bottle of water (you assumed he’d drank so much cups of coffee, he Needed water in his system).
As soon as you walked out of the library, the inky night and the scent of trees hit you. The hallway was dead, but that wasn’t a surprise to you at all. Shoving your hands in your pockets, you quickly make your way to the vending machine to purchase a bottle of water. When you head back to the library, the boy remains sound asleep so you carefully place the bottle of water beside his unopened books. Sharpie in hand and a small message of “stay hydrated and don’t forget to take a break from studying!” written on the water bottle.
For some dumb reason, the sight of the cute boy was enough to get blood rushing towards your cheeks and the hint of butterflies in the bottom of your stomach. Before you could possibly wake him up with your staring, you bend down to take away the empty cups of coffee from under the table to throw before tackling the remaining books you needed to sort through so you could end your shift.
It didn’t take Sunghoon long to realize the bottle of water and the little message that accompanied it once he had woken up from the slumber he did not mean to partake in. And in the few seconds of spotting it, an instant smile tipped on his lips and he’s quick to down the bottle of water.
Upon cleaning up the desk he had used up all night, he quietly checks out some of the books that were on his pile. Footsteps drew the attention of the working student and she peers up to assist Sunghoon in filling up the forms so he could take the library books home.
With an arm full of books, Sunghoon starts shuffling out of the library before coming to a brief halt by the door, and before the student could finish saying the mandated “Thank you, come again!”, he moves back to the desk and asks if she knew who kindly left him water when he had fallen asleep.
“Oh, yeah! ______. They work their shift before mine so I’m pretty sure they’re the one who left that. Would you like me to take a message?”
Trying to suppress a yawn, Sunghoon nods before shyly replying. “Please tell them thank you for their kindness.”
“No problem.” She shoots him a smile before busying herself with more mind-numbing tasks from all the students that had piled up to check out some books during the time she had been talking to the boy.
Sunghoon respectfully gives her a nod of acknowledgement and a small smile before pushing the doors of the library to head back to his dorm. When he walked into his dorm, he’s met with the sight of Jake and Jay who were claiming his couch as theirs, watching some crappy show on Sunghoon’s rented television with takeout littered on the table.
“When did the two of you move into my dorm?”
“We didn’t, but now that you say that… we’re considering.” Jay nudges Jake who’s nodding frantically at Sunghoon who was shaking his head.
“You fall asleep at the library again?” Jay yawns as he flicks through the channels and Sunghoon’s lips twitch at the thought of the mystery person who left him a bottle of water. Truth was, Sunghoon hadn’t exactly found the time to even entertain anything other than his studies, but the simple thought of a stranger telling him to take a break really pulled at his heart strings. He’s fighting the grin that’s threatening to show as he drops his books onto the free part of the table that wasn’t littered with trash.
“Oy, he’s doing it again. What’s got you smiling, have you been whoring out?” Jake sits up at the mere sight of a frantic Sunghoon who was shuffling around his dorm to try and hide away from his friends.
“I’m not whoring around.” Sunghoon is quick to deny their claims, picking up the trash to throw it out and doing his best to keep busy so he doesn’t have the time to truly entertain the thought of the stranger. “Yeah, you’re doing the thing where you keep yourself occupied to avoid telling us shit, which never works by the way.” The tone in Jay’s voice was bored, but Sunghoon knew that the both of them were throwing shit-eating grins at one another.
“Fine, it’s stupid anyways. There was this person who left me a bottle of water at the library, and I don’t know, it’s just… a good thing.”
“Oh my god, he IS whoring around. Yeah, they’re definitely flirting.” Jake is quick to his conclusions, throwing the remote at Sunghoon who is just as quick to catch it. “And to think you weren’t going to tell us. Who do you think you are?”
“Well, are you going to go back and avoid falling asleep so you can meet the love of your life?”
“I don’t think giving someone a bottle of water constitutes as flirting or being the love of my life.” Sunghoon swats Jay’s feet away when he tries to rest it on the table in front of the couch.
The room falls silent for a moment, before Jay decides to speak up again, a small smirk playing on his face as he gazes at Sunghoon. “What would Sunoo think of this?” Sunghoon’s eyes double in size and he shakes his head frantically. “Nobody is telling Sunoo anything. He’s going to find a way to get all their contact information and plan my wedding.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the plan.”
“Why am I even friends with you two.”
“Because we’re nice to you, and we don’t spill your secrets… sometimes.” Jake throws a shit-eating grin at Sunghoon who rolls his eyes. “I’ll kick the both of you out if you speak one more word..”
They both raise their arms up in surrender at this, the pair snickering under their breath as Sunghoon joins them on the couch and they fall back into their playful banter.
You were making your way out of your last class of the afternoon when you got a text from Lia, the girl who would take over your shift after you left at a little over 2am.
I was told to act as a messenger for a boy. He says thank you for your kindness!
This sends a multitude of butterflies swarming through your stomach - the same butterflies that were trying to hide when you had stared at the cute boy earlier in the morning. It was almost funny how you’d never exchanged a single word with him and yet here he was, making you feel everything all at once.
You reason it’s because no other boy, a cute one at that, had paid you any attention and the concept of leaving secret messages through a friend was something that brought you a thrill. It was almost something that would normally be shown in those dumb romantic movies.
In all honesty, you had been yearning from a safe distance. It wasn’t that romance was all you wanted in life, but years without it tended to mess with your mind and you find yourself wanting it more and more every year. So sometimes, when the opportunity strikes, you’d wish upon a star to have the same time of excitement you’d normally get from reading fanfictions or watching cute scenes in movies.
Now that the opportunity had presented itself, the idea was clouding your mind and it allowed for you to smile at the most unexpected times of the day. It might’ve been an act of common human decency, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a frenzy at how the cute boy had taken the time to pass a “thank you” message for you.
You double check the message Lia had kindly sent you before falling into a swarm of students, with your bag hugged closed to your chest as you try to make it through the group of shuffling bodies.
Upon successfully making it out into the comfort of a small little coffee shop to seek comfort in their air conditioned air, you pull out your phone to reply to her.
it was the least i could do :> that boy’s been studying for weeks on end and falling asleep every! single! time! i kinda feel bad that he doesn’t take much breaks :/
Upon hitting send, you joyously walk towards the counter as a result of habit and order the same thing you usually get before moving back to your seat to do your homework. Perched on your seat, you start typing down on the essay that had been assigned to your class, glancing at the front door from time to time whenever the little bell would make its noise signalling that someone had walked into the shop.
The sun had only begun setting when the familiar bell rings and as another result of habit, your head tilts up. No one warned you that you’d be seeing the same boy from the library - he’s grinning at his friends as they made their way towards the counter and your typing just comes to a complete stop.
You don’t understand how he gets to walk around seemingly unaware of how attractive he is. Jesus Christ, his features up close was a sight to see, and you’d never seen anyone look that good just wearing a hoodie and some jeans.
You almost fall out of your seat when his eyes meet yours, and you’re quick to move your gaze back towards the screen of your laptop. If you’d kept your gaze for a few more seconds, you would’ve noticed the tiny smile he sent towards your direction.
He’s very cute too! I can see this transcending into something beautiful, and if it does, I’ll be the first to tell you that I told you so!
The message Lia sent back to you had you spiralling back into your brain, and you find yourself hoping that you’d be able to hear her tell you that she told you so really soon from now.
Sunghoon makes his way towards the familiar steps of the campus library - a path he’d taken way too many times before that if he were to be blindfolded, he could swear on his life that he’d still be able to navigate his way towards it.
The moment he enters the library, he’s met with the familiar scent he had grown to love over the weeks of his constant visits. He quietly greets Wonyoung as he works his way towards the desk he had deemed his home in the library.
He had found a new sense of comfort with the way a window was nearby and allowed him to look at what was happening outside of the campus, or the way the shelves were just an arm’s reach which allowed him the luxury of grabbing books without moving too much. It was his perfect spot.
It was only just 6pm and he had just left the coffee shop he had also frequented a lot to purchase his stack of coffee. He tried to consume them earlier in the night to allow himself to stay up and finally be able to meet the person who had been kind enough to think about his well-being, but he hadn’t known you had previously texted Wonyoung to tell her you’d be a few hours late into your shift that by the time you had walked into the library, he was fast asleep - prompted on top of his books and the usual empty cups under his desk.
And since that night, it had almost become a cycle that he’d try to stay awake to study and meet you halfway through your shift, but he’d always end up falling asleep. With that, he’d always wake up with a bottle of water beside his books (sometimes with an additional snack, or a blanket you had found locked away in the storage room). And every time, Lia would text you with his message of gratitude.
In the times that you did walk in while he was awake, he had found it particularly difficult to approach you, and you didn’t have it in you to approach him in fear that you’d be disrupting his studying.
Sunghoon could remember the day he first saw what you looked like, and it was obvious in the way that he looked at you that he was convinced you were an angel. He had recalled seeing you once and that was a few days ago at the coffee shop, granted that you didn’t have the same major and it would probably be very difficult to find you during the day.
He needed to shut his brain up, but it didn’t seem to want to listen to him.
Jay and Jake found out right away when Sunghoon had finally found out what you looked like. They had told him his flushed cheeks were a dead giveaway and that he didn’t normally put on a stupid smile when he walked into his dorm - stupid smiles were reserved for Sunoo or Riki, not the three boys.
“You do know you have to talk to them at some point, right?” Jay and Jake had once again found sanctuary on Sunghoon’s couch, snacking on the food Sunghoon had stocked for himself. “Yeah, where can I meet them?” Jake had pointed out teasingly, as if wanting to steal away the personification of angel from Sunghoon.
“Doubt they’d want to talk to you, they seem pretty interested in Hoonie.” When Jay had finished speaking this sentence, Sunghoon was quick to cover his cheeks with the back of his hand, shaking his head at Jay’s absurd theory.
“You guys are more obsessed with me talking to them than fixing your own grades.”
This resulted in a controller being chucked towards Sunghoon’s general direction and the claims that they were doing fine with school and that Sunghoon was just a coward.
And whilst Jake and Jay continued to harass Sunghoon into talking to you, Wonyoung was doing the same about how you should talk to him.
“You do know that sometimes, when he returns the blanket to Lia and when he sends off his thank you message, he always asks for you. She told me herself!” Wonyoung points at you accusingly as if you leaving early and not approaching the boy yourself was the reason why every time he’d leave the library, he looked like a kicked puppy when he realizes he can’t meet you.
She’s frantically making hand movements, confused as to why you just wouldn’t talk to the cute boy when he clearly wants to get to know the person who had been taking care of him when he was too busy tending to his academics.
And she couldn’t stress enough how attractive the boy was, emphasizing the deep undertone of his voice and his beautiful brown eyes that any person would get lost in - it even almost brought her to her knees but she had strictly reminded herself that she was supposed to be the wingwoman in this situation.
“He’s wise and quiet, and extremely sweet. You do know you probably won’t find anyone else who’d willingly send you cute messages and ask for you?” You try to move away when she threatens to hit you on the hip the moment your mouth forms something as similar to “no”.
“I know you want to talk to him.” She’s giving you a scandalised look at how you refused to budge, even with her extreme reasoning. Unknown to her, you had been thinking about it for a while but you almost always shy away when presented the opportunity.
After a few more minutes of terrorizing you and your time, she finally drops it in favor of the ice cream the two of you had just bought - now talking about her own adventures in finding men to talk to and talking shit about some of her rude professors.
A few more weeks into your daily routine, you found yourself waking up on one of those days when things just seemed to click. You were wide awake before your alarm (feeling oddly energized); your professors were strangely nice in your classes (Take that mom! You told her you knew you had it in you to be liked by professors at least a day in your life) and you found yourself making it in your shift in time (there were no swarm of bodies you had to get through).
It was a good day.
And in the routine of habit, your feet are moving towards the sleeping stranger, head once again tucked in the makeshift pillow of his arms. The gentle rise and fall of his back had become something that was comforting for you to watch (as creepy as it may sound) as it reassured you that at least he was getting sleep, even if it was cramped up at a table in the campus library.
With the supplies in your hand, you’re moving down to place the items you had carried with you almost every day since that one fateful night. The little message on the bottle was there, you had added in a little snack to accompany the water bottle and the blanket was placed on his back.
It was just another usual routine.
When you bend down to pick up his empty cups of coffee, you don’t expect to lift yourself up with a pair of eyes directly looking into yours. You would’ve fallen back if it wasn’t for how quick he was to grab your arm and steady you in place.
A grin was growing on his lips, and his eyes were so comforting to look at. You didn’t even realize you were just standing there, with your mouth agape, looking like a complete idiot.
“You’re a difficult person to find.” Wonyoung was right about the deep undertone in his voice. If his plan was to swoon you with his voice, it was definitely working.
You’re trying to speak but the words seem a little caught in your throat and it’s a little difficult to focus when he still has a grip on your arm. “I’m Park Sunghoon.” He tries again, eyes searching for yours and hoping he’d get a response from you. Hopefully, he hadn’t freaked you out enough for you to actually not speak to him.
“Hi.” Sunghoon’s grin seemed to increase tenfold upon hearing your voice, and if Jay and Jake were here, they would’ve noted how it was such an odd sight to see Sunghoon actually, genuinely smiling for once.
He pats the seat behind him and you take it after making sure that no one else needed help in the library - not that there was actually anyone else in there, which only seemed to increase your nerves. “______.” Your lips parted just enough to introduce yourself back at him, and he gladly allows himself to reiterate your name.
He decided he liked how it sounded when he said it, just as much as he liked it more when you said his name.
“I never got to personally thank you for taking care of me.” He runs his fingers through his hair, moving the books in front of him aside. You let out a little laugh at this, shaking your head as you swiftly respond. “That just makes me sound like a babysitter.”
“Oh, I know the feeling.” He shakes his head as flashes of when he was in highschool appears through his mind for a few seconds. In the few seconds where he falls silent, you allow yourself to really appreciate his beauty just as he did with yours whenever you were quietly working behind the library counter every time he’d walk in. “Look, I’m really glad I’m finally getting to meet you.”
“Did you know who I was the entire time?” You narrow your eyes at him accusingly and he shakes his head quickly. “No. Well… not at first.” The string of words he had just admitted sends a faint blush towards both of your cheeks.
“Are you disappointed the person who keeps leaving you water actually turned out to be me?” Sunghoon is quick to shake his head and deny your words, impulsively taking your hand into his to assure you that he was nothing short of happy it was you all along.
The warmth he radiated sends your heart leaping in your chest and the same butterflies to start tumbling in your stomach. “So, why didn’t you just approach me on the occasion that you hadn’t fallen asleep?”
Your question reminds him of the exact same his friends had told him, and it always echoed through his mind whenever he saw you.
“I was going to… but…” The blush on his cheeks only seemed to intensify and he found himself shaking his head towards himself. “I didn’t know what to say, especially after seeing you for the first time? I’m just a bundle of nerves most of the time - contrary to popular belief that I’m some sort of popular kid who can talk anyone up. It’s a little difficult to hold up to that when it’s you I’m supposed to be talking to.”
His words send you into another frenzy, and you’re convinced that Whoever was Above was apologizing for every single thing He did in your life by bringing you Park Sunghoon.
The flutter in your chest only seemed to increase when he offered to take you out after your shift, as if to return the numerous amounts of water and snacks you had bought for him in the few weeks of him sleeping there.
His eyes bore into yours, and when you nod your head, an uncontrollable grin starts forming on his face and he moves to get out from his spot on the table. “I’m going to throw these.” He motions towards his cup of coffee with a brief apology on breaking library rules. “And then I’m going to try and keep studying while waiting for your shift to end.”
There was no stopping the butterflies and the heat in your face and the nerves that were exploding through your system right now. And choosing to bite the bullet, you offer that the two of you just leave now - besides, Lia had told you she’d be coming in early for her shift and you only had a good few minutes left before yours ended.
He’s quick to pack his bags and follow you out of the library. “I’m probably going to need your number, when we make more plans together.” You try to say something in response, but choose to retreat by giving him your phone in a desperate attempt to cover your blushing cheeks.
The pair of you spoke about anything and everything, Sunghoon trying to get to know the person that had been feeding him, and you trying to get to know the cute boy you had been taking care of. He told you about his highschool, and his best friends. The topic ends up in him convincing you to take a selfie with him, where Sunoo criticizes Sunghoon’s selfie skills but still leaves room to tease his hyung.
And the night ends in good old fashioned laughter, good food, and a reminder from you that he should be getting more sleep. If you see his ass falling asleep in the crack of dawn in the library for the remaining of the month, you had threatened to take away your friendship rights. It seemed like a good enough threat for Sunghoon to start sleeping more. He does walk you to your dorm and he sends you a small little wave before walking back to his own.
And the next time the wind picks up loose strands of your hair as you hurry towards the library in time for your shift, you’re met with Sunghoon who’s lecturing you on why you’re late with two cups of coffee in his hand — one now meant for you.
note. happy birthday sunghoon! might’ve cheated with this fic as i’d already written this for a different fandom and just tweaked it a little T_T
AISH, THIS GIRL.
in which roommate!yang jungwon comes home to find you sleeping, hunched over your textbooks.
opening the door slowly, yang jungwon makes his way into your shared dorm, making sure he was as quiet as possible.
it was 2 in the morning after all, his hyungs constantly complained about him missing their “saturdays with the boys”. but it wasn’t his fault—it wasn’t his fault that his teacher assigned him loads of work! however, jay ‘rock chic’ hyung (jungwon liked to called him) insisted they hung out and get dinner.
who knew the dinner lasted until 2am. and now there jungwon was, tiptoeing his way into your guy’s shared room.
“why is the light still on?” jungwon wonders, but his question is soon answered when he sees you crouched over, head on your desk, snoring soundly.
“aish, this girl.” jungwon sighs loudly—which is followed by him gasping at to how loud he was. he quickly covered his mouth, making sure he didn’t wake you.
placing down his bag, yang jungwon makes his way to you, lifting your head up carefully.
“pretty,” he whispers. “pretty stupid to fall asleep while studying for miss. cho’s class. you’re gonna fail the test tomorrow!”
but he says so with a teasing voice. he knew you were smart—and unfortunately overworked yourself most of the time.
carrying you to your bed, he places his warm fluffy white blanket over you, smiling down at your asleep figure.
“goodnight y/n.” he mumbles, placing a kiss on your forehead.
the next day, you’re awoken by the delicious smell of pancakes filing the dorm. who the hell could be cooking at this hour? it was only 7 in the morning!
“morning~” jungwon hums, “here’s some pancakes i made. you fell asleep yesterday studying, ya know. i had to carry you to bed and everything. tch, what would you do without me y/n-ah?”
rolling your eyes jokingly at his lecture, you pull jungwon in for a hug—making his eyes widen.
“off! off!” he yells jokingly, “just because i cooked you pancakes does not mean we’re best friends.”
“oh but you love me.” you tease him.
“well yeah, i guess i do.”
some zelink art...🌼
tfw your best friend brings his boyfriend over to your flat and he tries to kick you out, but you refuse to leave cos it’s your house too so they just make out in front of you to piss you off. it do be like that sometimes
Assessing a Fuckboy's Behaviour (Part 1)
Pairing: sub!badboy!hee x dom!reader
Contains: NSFW content, swearing, dom/sub dynamics kinda??, heeseung is a fuckboy and also a closet sub, reader gives him a handjob during class
Summary: You find out that Heeseung, your university's notorious bad boy is actually a closeted sub.
A/N: So this fic is based on this ask! It was such a good concept and I wanted to write it! UGH I SWEAR TO GOD I HAD SUCH HUGE WRITERS BLOCK BUT I managed. Anyway, hope yall enjoy ♡♡♡ As always, likes, reblogs and feedback including constructive criticism are all wanted and appreciated! Thank you for supporting me, I love yall <3 ALSO there's a part two like this ain't finished yet OKAY i swear part 2 will be steamier
Ethan - that's his name now. Well, he didn't really change his name. His name is still Heeseung, he just goes around telling everyone to call him Ethan - probably to fuel his reputation and status as the university's fuckboy. However, you've noticed how his small group of friends always call him Heeseung, never Ethan.
Speaking of his group of friends, they're quite the peculiar bunch - definitely not the kind of people that a typical fuckboy like him would be friends with. One would assume that he would be friends with problematic people but no. Instead, he's friends with people who seem... pretty normal - one is the smartest guy in this university, another is a reserved rich guy, another is always cheerful and funny while another has the demeanour as gentle as a soft breeze.
They baby him a lot of times too. There was this one time, you were sitting outside a university's cafe and he was walking by with his friends, a bright shy smile on his face as he handed them what you assume was one of his graded assignments. One of his friends, it was Taehyun, you think, took it from his hands and Ethan just looked at him with his doe eyes expecting something - praise, you're sure of it.
When Taehyun took his eyes off the paper, he looked at Ethan with a smile and told him that he did a good job. And you watched as they walked past, watched as Jaehyuk threw his arm over Ethan's shoulder and patted his head, watched as even Beomgyu praised him in a teasing way. With all the attention on him, you saw how quickly he got shy and Jay even teased him about it on their way to the bus station.
He was cute when he was like that and for a moment, you saw a part of him that's human instead of a typical character trope in a book of fiction. It makes you wonder, makes you start suspecting that maybe this whole bad boy image he's building is just a ruse... for reasons unknown to you.
Thus, you find yourself unable to stop observing him, trying to figure him out. Why? Because you've noticed the way he looks at you. During your shared classes, he'd always sit at the back next to the window. You caught him staring at you a couple of times and every time when your eyes meet, his doe eyes would always widen and he quickly breaks eye contact to look at the window, the tip of his ears turning a light shade of red.
You also notice how he would always stutter when talking to you. It's strange, especially when just a moment ago he was boldly talking about how hard he fucked [redacted] last night to Jay. Jay just stared in front with a bored expression, not saying anything. You were walking past them when it happened. They would always be outside, near the classroom door. And right as you walked inside, he would always stop talking.
Strange... very strange indeed.
Truthfully, a part of you wishes to see Heeseung again, the cute timid guy you knew in high school. You like Heeseung, not Ethan. And noticing these little things about him makes you wonder and gives you a bit of hope that Heeseung still might be there, not completely replaced by this fuckboy character.
"Um... s-sorry, can I... sit here?"
A familiar voice captures your attention. You look up at the person speaking and well, speak of the devil and he shall appear. But honestly, he seems nothing like the devil. Even with his dishevelled hair, black leather jacket, ripped jeans and combat boots, he still looks cute. And devils aren't cute... right?
Fuck, whatever. "Yeah, sure," you say to him as you take your bag off the chair next to you - the window seat.
He gives you a soft thank you and sits down on the chair. At first, you wonder what made him decide to sit next to you but when you look around the room, you find out that all the seats were already taken. Ah, so that's why. Usually, there'd be a lot of empty seats but since today's a dual-class day, there are a lot more students present and some of them even brought chairs from the neighbouring classrooms. Hell, even your usual seat is already taken and you have to pick a seat at the back of the class instead.
Deciding to pay it no mind, you quickly take out your books along with a pen and put them on the desk. Taking your notebook, you open it and flip through the pages, trying to find an empty page so you can jot down notes when the lecturer gets here. You do this now because this lecturer is known for starting class immediately when he comes into the room.
With your mind too occupied with flipping pages, you barely notice your pen drop down to the floor. Cursing, you place your hand on Ethan's thigh and quickly bend down to take the pen that just happens to drop in between his legs.
Something makes you pause your actions, maybe it's the fact that you're now realising the position you are currently in or maybe it's the fact that you can practically feel his hard-on near you despite the fact that your head isn't even that close to his dick.
Amused at the situation, you decide to tease him just a bit and slowly move your hand higher up his thigh. When the pen is inside your hand, you turn your head towards his hard-on. You're honestly not surprised when you see it, in fact, you can't help but smirk.
When you look up to see his face, your eyes widen in surprise at his expression - you were expecting a laid back expression or at least a cocky smirk but instead, his face is flushed, he's biting his lip and his eyes are looking into yours, full of expectation.
For a while, you two just stare at each other and when he finally realises that you're probably not going to do anything, he drops his pride and starts mouthing please to you. That got you raising your eyebrow at him and he bites his lip again in response, averting his gaze for a few seconds only for it to come back to rest on you.
You bring your head back up and pull away from him to clip your pen to your notebook so it doesn't fall down again. It only takes you a few seconds and when you're done, you turn your attention back to the man beside you.
Ethan's hunched over the desk, his face in his hands. You put one hand back on his thigh and lean closer to whisper to him, "Sorry Ethan, I only fuck good boys."
He pulls away from his hands and looks at you. Keeping eye contact with you, he places his hand on top of yours and slowly drags your hand closer to his hard-on as he says in a soft tone, "Please? I can be a good boy for you."
"I mean in general. Not just in bed, sweetheart."
He chews on his lip for a while before speaking again, "Am I not a good boy in general?"
Wanting to prove a point, you grip his dick through his jeans and say, "Ethan, you're a fuckboy. What do you think?"
The action causes him to moan and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to stop more sounds from coming out of his mouth. Despite his best efforts, he can't hold himself back from grinding into your hand, hoping that nobody will turn around and see him right now.
Suddenly the front door opens and Ethan jumps in surprise at the sound. The professor's here. Fuck, the professor's here. His grip on your hand tightens but he doesn't move it away which prompts you to whisper in his ear, "Tell me when to stop. Until then, be quiet."
He shudders when he feels your hot breath in his ear and his hand that was once on yours quickly goes to his mouth as you slip your hand into his boxers. You take his dick out of his pants and hear him whimper as it hits his stomach underneath his white t-shirt.
Honestly, you don't know why you're even doing this in the first place. You don't particularly like his character and yet you're here willing to give him a handjob right in the middle of class. What are you going to blame this for? His charm? The hot situation? The thrill? Or your weak sense of self-control?
Well whatever you blame it on, it's not going to change the fact that you have your hand stroking his hard dick in the middle of class. He's hunched over the desk again, trying his best to be discrete with one hand still covering his mouth while the other grips his pen.
"I didn't know you were this dirty, Ethan," you say as you roll your thumb on his tip, "Not surprised though."
His first reaction is to say please but then remembers that you told him to be quiet so he tries to do as you say. As your fingers work their way up and down his dick, you notice that he's doing a good job being quiet. Of course, his facial expressions are kind of obvious but he hasn't made a sound yet.
Taking that as a challenge, you decide to do everything you can to give him a hard time. But alas, he doesn't make a sound. Not even when your hand abuses his tip for a long time. Not even when you turn your hand into a fist and tell him to fuck it. He just grinds and thrusts his dick into your hand and although his facial expressions are a dead giveaway, you're impressed that he can be this quiet.
You know he's close when his movements start getting sloppy and his thighs start quivering. As he thrusts into your hand, he finally drops his hand from his mouth and leans in to whisper to you, "Please, I'm so close."
"You wanna cum?"
He whimpers yes as his tip hits your hand again. Biting his lip, he leans back against the chair and throws his head back while still thrusting into your hand. A loud moan almost escapes him - almost, he manages to choke it down at the last moment. It's a pretty dirty sight and you can't help but feel more turned on by his bold and erotic actions.
The sound of your voice calling his name makes him gasp and he quickly covers his mouth to muffle it. His action doesn't slip by you and you tell him, "Oh? You like it when I call you Heeseung instead of Ethan?"
He just stares at you in response, his eyes hooded and full of desperation. He doesn't answer you though so you call his name again and watch him shudder in response, his dick twitching in your hand.
An idea crosses your mind and you quickly squeeze the base of his dick to stop him from cumming. As his gasp and whimpers come out muffled because of his hand, you tell him, "You're gonna be at Jay's party tonight right?"
He quickly nods in response.
"Then I'll see you there, yeah?" Your grip on his dick loosens and as you pull your hand back, he whines at the loss of stimulation. Quickly grabbing your hand, he brings it close to his mouth and mouths a pouty please. When you just smirk in response, he starts licking and sucking on your wet digits. It's obvious that he wants you to change your mind and let him cum now but you have other plans.
You shove your fingers further into his mouth. He almost chokes on them but thankfully he didn't and continues to clean your hands with his mouth, even going as far as to lick your hand from your wrist to the tip of your fingers while looking at you with dark and promising eyes.
"One more thing, I want Heeseung to be there, not Ethan," you say to him sternly. Pulling your hand away from him, you continue, "Understand?"
Licking his lips, he gulps and nods in understanding. At that, you direct your attention to the lecturer. He's hunched over his desk, squinting at his laptop as his hands type down whatever he's typing - probably having a technological issue. Maybe that's why he hasn't caught you two.
Turning back towards Ethan, you tell him, "And don't get yourself off unless you want to be punished."
He can't help the boyish smile from appearing and leans in closer to you. He places his hand on your thigh and says in a teasing tone, "What if I want to be punished?"
Unclipping your pen from your notebook, you reply, "Try me."
Despite his dick being aching hard right now, he doesn't. Instead, he just pouts and tries to calm himself down so that when the class ends, he doesn't have to walk around with a noticeable hard-on.
Part 2: Here
some cute uni au stuff i did yesterday
punk belong to @whiteartblood