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#i was trying to think of a polite way to say i want to suck that man’s dick
nomairuins · 23 days
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i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is
#ive been overthinking 1 light and casual mildly funny response to something but im worried itll come off as disrespectful and dismissive And#make me seem stupid and uncaring all at the same time. and also be seen as insulting. but like idt itd be insulting right like. im not#saying what it is so ig for all you guys know im like I mean if i say All your shit suck ball and i hateit kys. <- thats not the thing i was#going to say#like it doesnt matter now the window for response is closed now but i feel stupid bc i shouldve just said it it was light and casual. im so#bad at keeping convos gojng im convinced im not going to survive. In like a light and casual way like in a He will not make it through the#winter joke way. dw. im not going to do anything bc i had One failed interaction. if i was going to do anythjng itd be bc of the 8000000#other failed interactions. But im not. anyways. it just makes me feel so useless 😭 like i want to respond i want to talk to ppl so bad but#i feel like i mess things up Irreparably every time i speak OR i take too LONG overthinking my response and then i just cant respond bc its#been too long and then its been 3 years and the only messages ive ever sent r my intro message and 1 message 2 years ago that nobody#responded to at all. or the conversation stopped immediately after. and like i used to be better at this i was lkke. talkative in a couple#muts servers like. i talked 2 ppl daily in those servers and i had fun and like. I was an important part of the group and i felt like it#but i just feel like such an outsider for Everything and its literally my fault bc i cant just like. Talk. The explosion. bc im always like#im gonna try im gonna do it this time im gonna get it back im going to finally be Good connor and im going to fix it all and make a Good#solid friend group and ill find HEALTHY LOVE and i wont selfsabotage and ill move out and have a job and ill balance it well and ill start#all my hobbies and ill have a great routine and be so loveable and on top of it and not stressed and content and happy and roll with the#punches and then theres a single hiccup and im like Well fuckinf whatever im going to be an unemployed hermit forever and im going to die b4#im 25 anyways so Who cares and also im digging a little hole for myself. and its like. AUGHH ik i just have to persevere and overcome but#even saying that feels so stupid its not fucking hard its Talking to ppl. like. i literally if ive ever said a word to you i had to think#avt it and strategize how to respond right even for like. like. it makes it sound like its not genuine it is#like for example i want to say hey i love your art! but then i freak out and im like thats not normal thats like a rly generic comment they#hear that all the time theyll thjnk im being polite and my brains like hrmmm rewrite Your art changed my life. It shaped me. Ill never be#the same. Nad im like ok too far overcorrected go back and the sentence generator is like Your art has colors 💯 like. GOD. WHY IS IT SO#difficult. and then usually i either just dont say anythinf and feel awful abt it 4ever OR i send it on anon and then i spend like 15#minutes ibsessively slightly tweaking the apelling and capitalization and punctuation to make sure it doesnt seem like its me just in case#it Is the worst possible thing to say but then i see the response and itll be like AWWW TYSM :] THIS MEANS A LOT or whathaveyou and i feel#stupid bc i couldve just Told them this to their face and it wouldve been a good positive interaction we had. but instead i had 2 hide and#tyoe entirely differently so they couldnt sniff me from my typing style. and it soesnt even feel like the thanks is actually 4 me bc i#tweaked the message sm. and it still makes me happy that the oersons hapoy but its like. that couldve been a nice mutual interaction#like not that i need a personal ty i compliment ppl when i Want to compliment ppl and when its genuine yk. i dont do it so i get mutualpoint
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vv-ispy · 2 months
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#the problem with writing an old mond fic that I'm trying to explore Topics with is#it has dwelved from 'I want to write about why Amos stuck with Deca for so long and the messed up love between them'#to. oh boy. googling the life of the last emperor of china of which I am morbidly facinated with.#(terrible spineless self centered coward of a guy. treated as god since age 4)#(but also general chinese emperors and royalty who all really sucked and basing deca and amos both on a lot of that)#to general little morality things bc. its a story of how amos was complicit/supportive of terrible things under deca but still joined rebel#to. reading about the causes of revolutions???? and writing that into old mond's inherit instability and why nb's revolution worked#into now. attitudes on the ethics meat consumption of bc amos is a hunter who grew up outside of old mond and its culture#and forced into old mond's culture (<- my backstory for her)#which also has implications of Amos having to struggle to reconcile her heritage culture with the one she has to live in now#........and though it I keep forgetting that the initial thing I wanted to explore is deca/amos Problematic(tm) love#which means the plot is now a dredged down mess I'll have to fix in a second draft#......uh for anyone who thinks this sounds interesting. no promises on it actually getting finished or being good#this has spirled way out of control from its initial inception#but ya know all art has a political slant to it and boy nothing says political like 'story about revolution' so we'll see how this all goes#(this is also why I don't write fic or stories often lol I take its ideas too seriously and it completely consumes me until I finish it)#personal //
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takemetodragonstone · 10 months
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the chokehold nicholas britell had on me this year 💀
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medicinemane · 11 months
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I do wonder what people would do if they felt all the pain they'd caused in the world
Not even the big stuff, we're not even talking stuff like politicians being forced to feel just how much damage they've done, we're talking about the small scale stuff
All the off hand comments that were thoughtless and hurt someone, all the harm done without even realizing how much harm you're doing
I think if I could I'd like to know, I'd like to see the places I've hurt others around me
But I don't know... I listen to some people and it's just like... I don't think you even begin to imagine the damage you're doing around you. I don't think you even remotely begin to think about not even strangers, but the harm you'll do to people you claim to care about
What are you gonna do though? People are allowed to say and act however they want at the end of the day and even if I tried to explain I don't think they could hear me
#ever since I had shit I liked really shit on I kinda changed my mind of how funny it was making fun of other people#and while this applies to stuff like fandom or whatever; it's really about things as a whole#you never know what people around you are dealing with and like...#I don't want to be the person who pushes someone into a darker place; way rather try and help them out of stuff#so I'm not saying I'm perfect; but I do try to choose my words with intention when I'm talking about certain stuff#I try to call my shots and make sure the my ire is hitting where I want it to instead of risking it splashing out and hitting people I like#none of it matters; people will behave how they wanna behave and there ain't shit I can do about it#and in the end we'll all defend what we do; me as much as anyone else I'm sure#but like... that's why I'm always talking about just checking in on the calibration of your moral compass#making sure it's where you want it; I'm not gonna tell you what that should be#though I suppose I will say that for me it tends to be focused on minimizing harm and maximizing help#you think I can't be sucked into hateful points of view?#get real; of course I could... might even already have some I'm just to blind to see; you know?#all I can do is try and check myself and check I'm not letting something like skepticism towards say a political group#start bleeding out and tagging unrelated people who are just standing next to them into my anger#make sure I've got a specific reason I'm mad; try to talk about behavior more than anything else#that's what I do; that's how I value things and how I try to keep my shit calibrated#but you do you; you're gonna do it anyway; so why would I try and stop you?#but there it is#...can I let you in on a little secret that I'm expecting no one's gonna read down here in the tags?#I wish I could breath all the pain and suffering and hurt anyone's ever caused me as a toxic miasma to seep into their bones#I wanna make everyone hurt just by making them understand the hurt they've put out into the world#one or two people that I'd spare cause despite the fact they hurt me often I like them way too much#and there's of course people who haven't hurt me#but I just want to fill people with every ounce of darkness they may have caused me; not even as a punishment; as a way to learn#people in this world are so thoughtless#but... whatever; there's a little bit of a secret I don't really ever say aloud#I want Soulcutter; I want to make people feel like I feel just so they grow some damn sympathy#the way it's described is so familiar; I think that my depression is severe enough I could use it#never draw it; hand resting on the hilt so you can remember how pointless it is to even both keeping your hand there
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lymtw · 1 month
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the toji and his shy girl stuff is soooooo good like serious amazing. I WAS WONDERING IF you could do toji and his shy girl teaching her how to suck his dick or something like that?? pls and thanks🤗🤗
A/N: EEHEE, thank you! 🫶🏼 Of course I can write this out!(Please don't look at me after reading 🫣) Anyways, thank you for sending in this request 💙
Toji and his shy girl...
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"Toji?" You call, looking up from where your cheek rests on his thigh. He seems like he's very deep in thought, just staring straight ahead with the smallest crease between his brows. You tap his stomach, and the sudden contact manages to snap him out of his trance.
"Hm?" He looks down at you, like he's lost on the conversation that hasn't taken off, yet.
"You okay?" You ask, rubbing his thigh in an attempt to comfort him. He knows he shouldn't be so turned on by such a lighthearted gesture, yet he's finding it so difficult to keep something at bay.
"Yeah... Yeah, i'm okay, baby. You need something?" He looks down at you, attempting to ignore the way his dick jumps at the position you're resting in.
"No, I'm okay. Do you need something?" you return, your expression still somewhat concerned.
"Don't worry, doll, it's nothing important." He smiles at your attempt to figure out what's going on and cups your cheek with one of his hands, loving the warmth and color that spreads beneath his palm.
"Well... you always help me with unimportant things. Can I try something unimportant with you?" Your brows crease a little when you think back to what you just said. It sounded dirty, and you didn't intend for it to come off that way. "Oh, that came out wrong." You laugh, nervously.
"You're okay, baby. Try again." His eyes are lidded as he continues brushing your cheek with his thumb, the rest of his fingers feeling up the side of your neck and the underside of your jaw.
"I just wanna help you," you mumble, derailing your gaze from his intense, darkening one. You have this feeling in your gut that it's lust that changed his demeanor, but you've never liked assuming things like this. You prefer to hear him say that he needs you or to let his hands communicate and lead his desire for you, so that you know for certain.
"You're such a sweet girl," he says, his voice low and borderline sultry. "Got the prettiest eyes, the cutest nose, and those lips? Mmm..." He sighs, completely drawn to the warm and soft feeling of them against the pad of his thumb as he traces them. "They're perfectly suited for me."
Your heart is racing. Your gut is proving to be correct about this moment. He has this look in his eyes that makes your chest feel tight and his voice is like drizzling honey when he speaks to you.
"You really wanna help me out?" His eyes flit up to look at yours. He can't help the sly grin that appears when you nod, hesitantly. "Be sure about it, mama."
"I-I do. I want to help you. Anything you want or need."
"And if I said I need your pretty mouth?"
This stuns you into silence. You can't formulate a response quick enough to shut down his doubt of you meaning it when you said 'anything'.
"It's okay, doll." His gaze softens, the lust still evident in the way he hasn't released your cheek. "Don't worry about-"
"I don't know how to do it," you cut in. "Sorry," you mumble, recognizing the rudeness of your interruption.
He snickers. You're too polite for your own good. "That's alright. Be more clear, for me. You don't know how to do what?"
This is when things get hard. When Toji asks you to explain yourself during moments of intimacy. When he asks you to tell him what you want or when he knows you have questions about things you've never done before, like now. You freeze up. You don't know how he manages to say such vulgar things to you with so much confidence.
You groan, embarrassed, your flushed cheeks hidden as you pull away from his hand and bury your face into his thigh. "I don't wanna say it," you mumble.
"You're gonna have to put it into words for me, pretty." He grins like a menace. He knows exactly what you mean, but he gets a kick out of making you speak up about these topics. He finds it extremely hot when your soft spoken self verbalizes sexual things.
"Talk to me," he says, tapping your head when you go silent.
You sigh, wishing it was possible for him to read your mind. You try to get the words out in your own simplified way and hope it's enough for Toji.
"Can you guide me? On how to... suck your..." you huff, frustrated by how hard it is to explain exactly what you're talking about. You're not even looking at him and it's still proving to be a challenge. "...you know?"
"My dick?" He says, smoothly.
You nod your head against his thigh, humming to confirm, with so much relief at knowing he understood what you meant.
"Ask properly," he challenges, and your heart drops. He's playing with your hair, twirling a lock between his finger as he waits for you to talk.
"Toji, please. I can't."
"How are you gonna feel comfortable with me instructing you on how to do it, when you can't even say it? Try for me, baby."
You go silent, again, for a few more seconds, subconsciously rubbing the outer part of his thigh. You muster all the courage you have to ask the sinister question. After all, they're just words. The real nerves will appear once you start acting on your words.
"Can you teach me how to suck... your dick?"
"Good girl," he praises. "Now finish that off, nicely."
"Please?" It comes out meek due to the racing in your heart and the tightness returning in your chest.
"Mhm. Of course, my pretty girl." That smirk you know of all too well returns as he releases the lock of your hair he had wrapped around his finger. "You wanna lift your head and look at me? Wanna get a look at your pretty face."
You feel way too light as you lift yourself off of him, but nonetheless, you sit up straight and reveal your flustered state to him.
"Oh, you're so cute. Come here," he says beckoning for you to come even closer. He watches as you crawl towards him, minimizing the space between you two.
You take note, up close, of the way his scar lifts with that smile that drives you crazy. You feel jittery as you practically sit on his lap, feeling his bulging hard on poke you through his pants.
"Yeah, you feel that, don't you?" He thinks the way you nod in response is precious. His blunt nails run up and down your clothed back, making goosebumps rise on your skin. "It's all for you, ma. You did this."
With those final words, he pulls you in for a kiss. It's slow enough to allow you to melt into it, giving you a chance to move your lips along with his. The little breaths through your nose have him scrunching the back of your shirt into his tight fists, partially lifting the hem and revealing small areas of your skin. Your arousal skyrocketed, and you can physically feel it through the wetness collecting in your panties. A few breaths leave him when you start squirming on top of him, giving his hard cock some much desired stimulation.
He breaks the kiss, chuckling when you whine after chasing another kiss and being met with air.
"You ready?" He asks, lifting you off his lap and setting you down between his legs. He smiles at the cute pout and flourished color on your kissed up lips. You just got into kissing him, fully and comfortably reciprocating the kisses, and now you're jumping into learning how to suck him off. To say you're nervous is an understatement.
All of these feelings, just for you to nod and respond with a less than confident, "Yeah."
"You'll be okay. I won't be rough with you." The urge he felt to say 'this time' was immense, but he didn't want to scare you off from this, so instead he pinched your cheek, a loving gesture that brought a soft smile to your face.
You sit back like an obedient puppy and watch as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans. Already, just through the small glimpse you have of his bulge peeking out through the split of his zipper, you can see the way his cock is trying to jump out of his boxer briefs. You can't lie, not even to yourself, the sight has you throbbing. His pants are off and you can clearly see the monster he packs in all its glory, tenting through his briefs.
You let out a quiet sigh, squirming where you sit due to the throbbing you know won't be paid attention to anytime soon.
"You wanna take it out?" He asks, smirking at the way you're trying so hard not to look at his dick.
"Uh... yeah, okay." You're trying so hard to not come off as nervous, and failing miserably. The way your hands were clasped before you shakily and tentatively started reaching for him gave it away. You could feel him watching your face too. Those eyes, so focused on your every move that you felt like you were forgetting how to breathe. It all doubled down when you hooked your fingers into the thick band that cinched around his hips. Your knuckles grazed the warm skin of his lower abdomen and you let out the smallest breath before continuing.
Oh, how Toji loved watching your delicate self take charge of things. Even if he was instructing you, your hands were the ones doing all the roaming. He's simply a voice to your ears in this moment, while you do the experimenting.
He hums, relief seeping through him when you finally begin to release his cock out of its confines. The sound makes your eyes dart up towards him, meeting his once again dark gaze.
"Keep going, doll," he purrs, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear. You look down again, focusing on what your hands are doing as you keep pulling the front of his briefs down until his cock springs out and slaps against his clothed abdomen. "There you go," he says, loving the bewildered look on your face. He doesn't feel a bit of shame for the amount of precum he's leaking. Having your eyes on him as you wait for further instruction just encourages it.
"Lie down. Get comfortable."
You follow directions and lay between his legs. This position gives you a direct view of what will be in your mouth in just a few moments.
"Good girl. How 'bout you give it some kisses," he says, starting you off with something he thinks should be nice and easy.
"Kiss it?" You ask, feeling all the nerves rush you when he confirms with a hum. You simply look at it for a few seconds before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his shaft. "That's what you meant... right?" You ask, unsure of whether you're correctly following directions.
"Mhm," he assures. "Gonna need a lot of those."
You do as told and pepper kisses all over it, starting from the tip and trailing all the way down to the base. Every peck of your lips is soft. You look like an angel performing such an unholy act. You're so devoted to making sure you're doing this right that you don't pay any mind to the stickiness that occasionally connects you to his length through weak, thin strings.
Toji smiles as he watches you, his sweet girl, acting so dirty. Your lips are all wet as you kiss his length up and down, the tip of your nose gliding along. It's a view that has his dick throbbing as you continue on. He's pictured this scenario so many times, he's even had wet dreams that involve this exact sight, but he thought that's all they would ever be. That this vision would stay in his head. He never thought you'd actually be open to doing something like this. What a pleasure it turned out to have been wrong.
"You're doing so good, doll." He sighs, grinning with satisfaction at how well you listened. He cups your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. "Wanna use your tongue, now?"
You lick the excess off your lips, a gesture that wiped the smirk off Toji's face. He had to hold back a groan when you looked at him with those doe eyes of yours that struggled to hold his gaze. You had no idea the effect you had on him.
"Just my tongue?" You ask, readjusting your position.
"Yup. That's your next instruction from me."
You felt that surge of nerves from the beginning all over again. You felt incredibly hot, like you were melting on the spot, but again, you jumped into the moment. Your tongue darted out and you brought it up close to his cock. You licked along one of the veins that decorated it, tasting the slight saltiness of his skin.
This was more of a task on Toji, now. His level of restraint was being tested with every drag of your soft, warm and wet tongue. He'll never even attempt to consider the sight of you licking an ice cream cone or sucking on a popsicle, innocent, again.
You keep lapping at the same spot, and it's so inconvenient for him because it's a sensitive point. If you don't move on, there's a chance he might bust before you get him in your mouth. He has to redirect you.
"Make sure..." he pauses, not wanting to stutter over his words as you keep going. "Make sure your tongue goes over every inch, baby." He sighs, somewhat relieved when you move to another part. "Yeah, that's..." he groans, the sound low, but audible enough to make your heart pang. "That's good. You're doing so good, princess."
Your tongue goes to his flushed, swollen tip to collect the pearls that continue forming. You can see the way his cock twitches after every few licks, the sight serving to fuel your roaring arousal.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I think you've got the hang of using your tongue. Think you're ready to put it in your mouth?"
You stop, retracting your tongue. You don't think you've done enough to truly prepare you for taking him in your mouth. You don't want him to watch you do it. What if you get it wrong? It would easily discourage you. Will he laugh at you if you gag? Your heart is racing. There are so many what ifs that you feel he would get tired of answering, so you hit him with a simple question. One that would soothe your nerves even the slightest bit.
"Do you think i'm ready?"
He's quick to kill the doubt in your head. You don't deserve to feel like your effort is being wasted, because it isn't. There's a reason he's been leaking like a faucet this entire time, and if he has to assure you that you're doing just fine, then so be it.
"Of course, doll. Didn't you notice how much quicker the last step was?"
You nod. "Yeah, I did. I thought I did something wrong since you had to correct me."
He laughs, a deep rumble that makes your cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and joy. You give him a perplexed smile, unsure if he's agreeing with what you said through the attractive sound.
"Nah, I almost spewed all over your face. We had to move on a little quicker because of that sinful tongue of yours."
You tried so hard not laugh, but the corners of your lips started twitching and then you noticed the way he was grinning because he caught on to your bitten back giggles. You were internally giddy, it was impossible not to react that way to what he told you.
"You got it, baby. Like I said before, I'm not gonna be rough with you." You've always tried for him, regardless of the nerves that course through you and that's enough. "I'm gonna like whatever you do, so don't even worry about that, alright?"
"Okay," you respond, adjusting your position. Toji looks like some god with the way you kneel in front of him. "Maybe I should put my hair up," you suggest.
"I got you, don't worry. I'll keep your hair back."
You were hoping he'd let you do it to give you more time to mentally prepare, but once again, all there was left to do was jump right into things. You put your forearms on his thighs, and lean forward. As you start opening your mouth, you realize that your jaw is going to be so sore after this. He's long and thick and it makes you even more nervous because you didn't think you'd have to unhinge your jaw to take him in your mouth. You do know one thing very well. No teeth.
"There you go." He sighs, feeling the way you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, a soft sight of relief leaving him. Your lips are soft and warm as ever. "Just breathe through your nose," he continues instructing. As promised, he keeps your hair collected in his hand and out of your face. "Mhm, good girl... Fuck."
Your cheeks are hollowed out as you attempt to take more of him. You're a little less than halfway down, yet your mouth is already so full. Is it even possible to fit the entire thing in your mouth?
You swirl your tongue over his tip, running it through the slit to see if it does any more for him. His hips buck slightly, making your heart drop to your stomach and his cock press further into your mouth causing you to pull back.
"S-Shit, my bad, doll."
You breathe before going back in, this time trying to fit more into your mouth. It's hard. You always feel like you're gonna gag, and that's the last thing you wanna do—make a sound that you don't think you could recover from the embarrassment of. You push your limits, trying everything in your power to control your gag reflex, but it's a lot. He's huge. You're drooling all over him. It's messy, does he even like this? The only thing motivating you is the sounds he makes. His sighs and low groans. The way his voice goes down an entire octave when he curses under his breath. You're pushing it, you can feel yourself wanting to gag, so you pull away, and take a quick breather.
"Doing so good, baby," he purrs, releasing your hair for a moment. "You wanna try taking it deeper? You don't have to be embarrassed about gagging. It's just a part of your learning process."
Within what seems like a quick instance, you're going again. You remember what he said about breathing through your nose as your mouth swallows more and more of his length. You're going further down, shutting your eyes tightly as you try to focus on something other than the tip of his cock hitting your throat. You let out a deep breath through your nose, before coming back up, little pants leaving you as you suck on his tip to not lose contact with him. You try his slit again, this time with more gentle licks. You hear him groan, and his hand tightens in your hair.
"Fuck..." the word comes out somewhat strained. "Keep going, baby. Use that pretty mouth on me."
You take as much of his as you comfortably can into your mouth and start going up and down with your lips, your tongue gliding along that vein that seemed to have a huge effect on him earlier.
"K-Keep going." His resolve was crumbling. It was all happening so quickly and he felt debilitated by you. He's never had something like this happen. You barely know what you're doing, yet he's about to flood your mouth with cum. He thought he'd just be a test dummy this time, so you could get a feel for what it's like having him in your mouth. He didn't think you'd actually get him to cum. You're using those underdeveloped instructions he gave you and actually making them work. He's trying so hard not to buck into your mouth, he's right there. You're relentless with that tongue, using it to find his sensitive areas and then abusing them.
Your scalp is starting to sting a little from the grip he has on your hair, but you don't want to stop until he tells you to. Your jaw hurts, but your gags are starting to minimize.
Toji looks down at you, this may have been his biggest mistake. He challenged his own breaking point by leaning his head against the headboard of the bed and shutting his eyes, leaving his body to you for a few minutes so that he could purely feel you— feel what you're doing to him. Then it occurred to him... When will this happen again? When will you ask him to do this again? It was enough of a task to get you to pronounce the question. How can he get you to want to do this after this time? He doesn't know, but for now, he gets to see the mess you make as you work your mouth on him. You have drool all over the lower part of your face and your cheeks are flushed. For now, he gets to feel the way your hands are grabbing at his thighs and he gets to listen to the lewd sounds your lips make against him. It's definitely a sight worth remembering. It'll go straight into the mental shrine of spank bank material he has of you.
"Fuck... oh, fuck... Baby," he hisses, his hips jolting upwards as he empties himself into your mouth. You pull away, glassy eyed at the harsh intrusion of his dick in your throat almost making you choke. Your tongue is coated in cum, some of it went straight down your throat, and inevitably, you have it on your lips. You watch with bright cheeks as his stomach quivers, cum drooling down his shaft.
He sighs. "Show me your tongue, doll."
The potency of his cum is all you can taste. Every taste bud on your tongue is drowned in the flavor and painted white.
"Look at that," he says, almost in awe at the sight of your sloppy tongue. Your cheeks burn hot with every second you keep your it out on display for him. A glob of cum mixed with spit glides down your palate and spills down onto the bed, and god it stirred something in Toji.
"Whoops, sorry," you say, retracting your tongue to avoid drooling any more.
"That's okay, mama. You wanna keep things tidy, huh?" He grins at the little nod and hum you offer in response. He collects the streaks of white that landed on your lips with the pad of his thumb. "Open," he says, calmly, pressing his fingertip into the slit of your mouth. You listen, opening just enough for him to drag the remnants that litter the pad of his thumb, onto your tongue. "Suck," he says, positioning his thumb onto your bottom lip, slowly dragging it out like he's running it through a wringer.
"Good girl. All nice and clean again," he praises. "What about me?"
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ttsukiimi · 5 months
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❛ I FVCKED MY BODYGUARD! ❜
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୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬  ⎯ Toji fushiguro is nothing but a bodyguard—or at least those are the words you keep telling everyone including yourself. But when you’re under him, moaning his name, can you really say that?
୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬  ⎯ bodyguard!toji fushiguro x actress!reader, smut (mdni), n!pple sucking & n!pple play, implied size difference, slight manhandling, softdom! & bigd!ck!toji, unprotected sx, mentions of ichiji, reader referred to as (doll, baby, princess)
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'Famous actress 'suki' ttsukiimi facing backlash after allegedly being seen in public holding hands with her bodyguard! Fans step forward with pictures as proof!'
Your eyes rolled as you saw the news headline, and you wondered if someone actually sat down and wrote it.
For starters, Toji Fushiguro was nothing more than your bodyguard—and, of course, he had to accompany you in public because that was his job! And, while the holding hands aspect appeared incriminating, he was merely doing it to keep you steady as you went through the crowd.
You made an effort to clear your head for the upcoming night, but your mood soured with bitter irritation. Thoughts of Toji suddenly sprang to mind as you were trying to declutter your mind. You couldn't help but wander off to the feeling of his big hand encasing your smaller one, the waft of his cologne into your nostrils as he walked beside you and tried his best to politely push people out of the way.
He was just perfect in every aspect—tall, muscular, intimidating, you couldn't count how many times you'd wanted a simple touch from him to lead to something else.
Your phone snapped you out of your daydreaming, the chime of your ringtone echoing throughout the almost empty hotel room. Quickly, almost embarrassingly so, you read the contact's name, and inwardly smiled to yourself. Just who you wanted.
"Hello?" your sugary voice rung throughout the speaker. Toji could feel himself heat up from your voice alone, imagining the way your plump lips moved as you talked, and he cleared his throat.
"We're waiting for you outside, doll. Hurry up, yeah?" he mumbled, letting his hand hang back on the car's headrest.
You let out an acknowledging hum, not daring to speak with the way you clenched your thighs together—his tone and the deepness of his voice alone sending a shock of electricity through you. Not to mention the pet name.
Soon enough, you met with Toji and your chauffer, Ichiji, outside. You'd made sure to wear something risqué, and both men were more than glad to gaze at you through their peripheral, though toji made no attempt to hide his staring. 
The ride to your wardrobe stylist was silent, save for a few impatient grumbles from toji on how long the ride was going to take. He could really act so immature sometimes.
୨୧
You stepped out of the room, velvet material clinging to your body like second skin and gleamed at Toji. "What do you think?"
His throat congealed with breath. You appeared breathtaking; the stylist having done a phenomenal job of selecting dresses that accentuate your complexion and emphasize your curves.
Toji gave a playful suck of his teeth. "Eh."
You rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone on a nearby table and checked the time. It was almost time to get going.
"Tojii, please help me choose. Y'know I can't rely on Ichiji." That, however, was a lie; if anyone was aware of actress-appropriate style, it was him .You merely wanted a justification to continue showing Toji yourself in small little dresses. Not that he couldn't admit he liked watching you do that.
Once again, the scarred-lipped man sucked his teeth. "Go with the black one, with the back cutout, I guess."
୨୧
It was finally time for the nomination. Toji grinned to himself as he saw you on stage, light sparkling in your eyes, making you appear ethereal. You competed with other actresses for best of the year.
The announcer began to speak, her voice sweet, but not as much as yours, he reasoned. And it would be an understatement to say that Toji, and the entire audience, were upset not to hear your name.
"Who the fuck even is that?" he whispered under his breath, but his eyes softened as he noticed the smile on your face when you heard your name for the second time.
Everyone's eyes were drawn to you as you strutted over to receive your award, fascinated by the glow you emitted, and the audience erupted in cheers. Toji let out a small cheer just for you.
When the event was finally done and the paparazzi and bothersome interviewers had left, you let out a sigh of relief. Toji took your hand and guided you to the waiting limousine, opening the door for you.
You hoped this wouldn't cause another news headline.
"Thanks," you mumbled before succumbing to tiredness and falling asleep, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
When you awoke, you were comfortably positioned on your hotel room's bed, with the blankets warming your restless body. Your initial inclination was to search around for Toji, but there was no sign of him. You sprang out of bed and began searching for him, only to find him just as he was about to leave.
He tilted his head. "Did I wake you?"
You shook yours. "No, I—Can you stay?" The sentence slipped through your lips before you could catch it. Your eyes widened and your cheeks burned with embarrassment, even more so when you timidly looked up at him to find him smirking.
"Doll." he hummed, walking towards you, making you look at him with a finger under your chin. "When are ya gonna just say it?"
Your heartbeat skyrocketed, not only from the contact and closeness of his huge body, but also from the look on his face.
"If you wanna fuck just say that."
Your knees buckled under your weight, Toji catching you in his arms. You both looked at each other's lips and back up, and in his arms, you felt like you were under a trance.
Lips soon collided. One kiss led to a make-out session, and that led to you being manhandled and thrown onto the bed. Toji crawled on after you, the angry erection under his black slacks poking through.
Your eyes widened in shock. "Toji.."
He hushed you with a quick peck, the unfastening of his belt and zipper sounding throughout the room. "Open your legs."
His hands lit fires on your skin as he slid them down to your thighs, spreading your legs further apart and whistling at the wetness gathered on your folds. "You're soaked baby. Ain't even touched you yet."
You whined and looked away, breath hitching as he teasingly gathered your slick on the tip of his cock. Toji clenched his jaw as he pushed the head in, everything in him resisting from thrusting everything in—knowing how small you were compared to him.
Who knew he'd be fucking the person he was supposed to protect?
"Breathe, baby,"
Nodding, you tried your best to follow his order. But, when he started moving, you completely lost it.
Strings upon strings of moans poured from your mouth, your legs locking around his waist as he found a pace. And even though to you his pace was pleasurable and a bit too much simultaneously, he was holding back.
Toji hadn't fucked such a greedy cunt in years, with the way you were sucking him in, it felt like you wanted to suck him dry. He hit your sweet spot easily with each thrust, groaning as he snaked his hands up your torso and pulled the neckline of your dress down to reveal your tits to him. "Knew they were pretty."
He leaned his head down to suck on your pebbled nipples, driving his girth in and out of you painfully fast now. Switching his attention to your other nub, Toji rolled your previous nipple between his fingers as he suckled on it.
Your back arched up into his touch and gave him more access to your body. "'S too much!"
"You'll take it," he rasped into your ear, hitting the spot that had you seeing stars so effortlessly it felt criminal. Your vision filled with white and blurred, liquid heat rippling through your lower stomach.
You gasped as you hadn't felt such euphoria in years, your job not leaving much time for love affairs, or for any affairs at that.
"I Think 'm close,"
"Ya think, princess?" he chuckled, deep and booming in your ear, his rhythm cruel and harsh on your poor, sensitive pussy.
Toji could feel himself slowly being hurled towards the edge of his high, and he could feel yours too with the way you clamped extra tight down on him. 
"C'mon, baby. Cum on my cock." he ordered, and your body instantly complied with his words. Your back arched further off the sheets, a broken cry bubbling from deep within your chest as you climaxed.
Toji's high came teetering soon after yours, and he made quick work of pulling himself out and letting his seed spurt over your stomach and tits. Your bodies were both messy and sweaty, and he appreciated the sight under him.
You had completely soaked the sheets, and Toji took pride in knowing he was the one who made you.
With a drawn-out sigh, he plopped down beside you.
"You think they'll write news about this too?"
"So you also saw that, huh?"
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dollfacefantasy · 6 months
Note
politely requesting Leon x reader where he makes her squirt for the first time and she gets embarrassed about it but he loves it <3
just a little drabble but yes this is super cute so here you go <3
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fingering, p in v, squirting, overstimulation
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You'd gone on another date with Leon tonight. Your relationship had reached seven months last week. This date had been simple regardless of the small milestone. A trip to the movies and then out to ice cream afterwards.
He'd been the perfect gentleman, held your hand, opened doors for you, let you pick the music on the way home. He watched you throughout the evening as if his eyes had been made for you.
Once the two of you got to your place afterwards, that attitude began morphing into something else. You kicked off your shoes and headed upstairs. As you padded up the steps, you felt his eyes on you. His gaze lingered on your ass, fixated on the way it bounced and swayed as you walked.
In your room, he shrugged off his jacket and collapsed on your plush mattress, situating himself against the pillows to watch you undress. You drop your outfit to the floor and push it aside in favor of throwing on an old t-shirt to go with your panties.
You take off your make up too and rub some moisturizing products into your skin. Leon still watches on with interest. The most mundane tasks in the world became fascinating when it was your hands executing them.
When you're done, you turn to him and smile. He returns the expression with his own grin and pats the space on your bed next to his body.
"C'mere, pretty girl. Think I need some more sugar," he says with a smirk.
You crawl onto the bed with no hesitation, plopping down in the place he gestured to. Your lips connect with his in an instant. He doesn't play around with gentle soft kisses either. He wants to make out. His tongue slips into your mouth while his hand wraps around your head to pull you impossibly closer.
You're breathing hard, saliva mixing with his. He rolls you over onto your back. He felt like being on top tonight. He wanted to watch you lose it.
He takes a little time to play with your tits. It always got you so wet watching him grope them. The pads of his fingers dig into the plump flesh while he sucks a nipple into his mouth. He drags his teeth against the hardened bud, giving you a slight jolt of pain to mix with the growing arousal in your core.
You roll your hips upward in an attempt to lure him down there. It kind of works as he haphazardly slips a hand in your panties and rubs your slick folds.
After a while more of making out and petting your dripping cunt, he increases his dedication. He pulls your underwear off with ease. You're wet enough from the teasing that he's able to slide a couple fingers right in.
He pumps them in and out, curling them and stroking all your internal sweet spots. He coos praises at you while he works to add to the physical pleasure he provides.
"Such a good girl. Taking it so well," he murmurs before kissing your lips. You gasp softly before he leans in for another, mumbling against your mouth. "My baby. Always so responsive. So easy to please."
You whine into the kiss. He continues on with them a bit more before pulling back just to watch the sight of his fingers disappearing into you.
"Prettiest pussy on this earth, I swear. Could play with it all day and never get bored," he says, his tone low and soothing, the type that hits your ears just right.
Your hips squirm a bit as his fingers probe deeper and deeper. Eventually, he ups his speed as well. The slick noises of him pushing in and out grow more explicit. You bite your lip and tilt your head back.
He makes you cum once, twice, then a third time. On the way to the fourth release, you're almost out of it. Your eyes water, lined with shiny tears. Your lips are raw from your teeth sinking into them when you try to hush your noises. You're shaky and breathy, whiny and physically exhausted. But he's having the time of his life it seems.
You feel like his fingers have to pruned from how long he's had them engulfed in your wetness. They just keep sliding in and out though. At some point, he began thumbing your clit as well. The small digit wags back and forth over your sensitive bud. And like before, he melts your mind further with the soft and sweet voice, praising you like you're an angel fresh from heaven.
"Doing so good for me, princess. Just give me one more. Know you can do it," he says while continuing his ruthless pace.
"Can't," you whimper, writhing more on the bed.
"Oh yes you can. You're almost there, babydoll. I can tell. I can see that cute little look on your face," he teases.
You're getting louder too. He recognizes the way your voice rises to a higher pitch as you mewl and arch into his touch. He smirks and keeps going, driving his fingers into you over and over again. You're on the edge, about to snap.
A long strangled cry leaves you before you buck your hips and let go. Your lips part in a silent scream as this one reaches a new level. Your eyes screw shut as your body tenses. It feels more intense than the other times you'd cum, but you can't even pinpoint how.
He can though as he watches you squirt, gushing all over his hand and wrist.
"That's my girl," he says, loud and proud as he watches you burst for him.
Your body rolls in waves of exhaustion, strained moans flying from you in a frenzy. He has you seeing stars even while you're coming down.
He works you through the high until he finally pulls his hand away from you. That was a grand finale if he'd ever seen one. He didn't feel the need to coax any more from you. At least not with his fingers.
Your eyes are hazy as you regain some awareness once the ecstasy has subsided. You sit up a little, blinking slowly. He's looking at you, smug as ever, and you don't understand why until you see the way his hand glistens and the wet patch on the bed between your legs. It's more than normal, and you start to realize what had happened.
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment while your head feels slightly dizzy from the rush of shyness.
"Did I... is that..." you start, unable to bring yourself to even say the words.
He nods and reaches up to stroke your face. "Mhm, you squirted, baby. All over my fuckin' hand," he chuckles.
The feeling of humiliation blooming in your chest only grows heavier from his attitude about it. You cringe and roll to the side, pressing your hot face into the cool fabric of your pillow case.
"Oh god..." you mumble. You slide one of your hands up to rub your face. "Sorry."
He raises an eyebrow, totally confused by your reaction. "What do you mean sorry?" he says, crawling on top of you to pepper kisses on your shielded face.
"Cause... it's messy. And now we gotta change the sheets," you reason, squirming a bit and trying to supress the smile his affection brings you.
"You're right. What was I thinking? Changing the sheets is a real tragedy. Maybe even an unforgivable one," he teases while nuzzling the side of your head.
"It's just embarrassing. I don't know," you say.
He grabs your jaw and turns you to look up at him. "It's not embarrassing. It's beautiful," he says, all the teasing gone from his voice, "There's nothing embarrassing about seeing my girl lose it that much for me. I'd change the sheets every time we fucked if it meant you'd do that."
You whine a little at the blunt way he describes things, but you're smile shines through now with no way to hide it.
"Believe me, honey. It was gorgeous. One of the best things I've ever seen," he says between more kisses. And you can tell by the way the voice drops that he's still in the mood.
"To you," you joke. You give in and start kissing him back with passion, ready for more even though he'd thoroughly tired you out by this point.
"No. To anyone with eyes," he says and kisses deeper.
You know he means it cause not even five minutes later he's fucking you like never before, face buried in the crook of your neck, panting and whimpering like it was the best fuck of his life. And though you can't hear it, he's silently praying you'll squirt all over him again with a few more strategic strokes.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 4 months
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Please please please please please do a Tom Riddle Smut, I’m thinking maybe Sweet/Innocent Reader that’s just so polite in front of others but in actuality is almost always needy, like she’s constantly trying to drag Tom away to his dorm because she’s just so desperate for him
I am so sorry this took so long! Pls forgive me! I hope this works!
Innocent and Filthy
Tom Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: choking, cussing, unprotected sex, oral(male receiving), cream pie, dacryphilia.
18+ Minors DNI!
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You were sitting with Tom and his friends in the common room. You sat on the couch next to Tom, getting as close as you could without being on top of him, holding onto his arm as he had his hand on your thigh. You were always pretty quiet around his friends, never saying anything foul or dirty. His friends all found it funny how Tom found someone so innocent and sweet when he could be pretty blunt and rude. 
What they didn't know was how filthy and horny you always were. Always begging Tom to help take care of you. Always dragging him off somewhere to help. 
Even right now, he could see the way you clenched your thighs, trying to get a little relief from how needy you were. You gave a little tug on his sleeve and gave him a sweet, pleading look when he turned his head to look at you. He sighed softly but stood up and you quickly followed as he walked to his dorm.
“Where are you going?” Blaise called after you two.
“My dorm.” Tom answered, but didn't give any other information as you grabbed his hand and nearly dragged him along.
Once inside his dorm, he closed the door. “You're always so needy, doll. Couldn't even wait until I was done out there.”
“I'm sorry, Tommy, I just really need you.” You said, a small pout on your lips.
“Is that how you address me?” He asked, wrapping a hand around your throat as he guided you backwards to the bed.
“No, sir.” You shook your head.
“That’s right. Show me how desperate you are, doll.” He said as he let go of you and sat on the bed.
You followed his order and striped your clothes off, kneeling in front of him as a small ‘please’ escaped your lips.
“Use your words.” He said.
“Please, let me suck your cock, sir.” You pleaded, giving him pleading eyes.
“Always such a slut for my cock, huh?” He said, undoing his belt and pants, letting his erection free. “Go on then. Put your mouth to use.”
You eagerly obliged, wrapping a hand around the base before leaning forward and teasing the tip. He sighed before pushing your head down to take his cock in your mouth. He guided your movements as tears pricked your eyes, feeling his dick hit the back of your throat over and over again.
“Crying already, doll?” His voice was teasing and condescending as he pulled you off by gripping your hair, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock. Before you could even reply, he pushed you back down. “Do you want me to fuck you now?” He asked and you moaned around him in reply. “Beg me then. Use your words.” You pleaded around his cock as he kept guiding your head up and down it before he pulled your mouth off of him again.
“Please, sir, need you so bad. Please fuck me, sir.” You begged, tears in your eyes as you caught your breath.
“So pathetic.” He said before standing up and pulling you to stand by your hair and pushing you towards the bed, making your front fall onto it as he stood behind you. “Always so fucking desperate.” He started pushing his cock into you, grabbing your hips to meet his. “Look at how filthy you are, begging for me to fuck you, begging for my cock inside you.” He moved a hand to wrap around your throat as he started thrusting, your moans coming out all choked and broken.
“So-good-sir!” You said between thrusts.
“Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a whore?” He asked in your ear as he leaned down closer to you.
“Yes!”
“You such a desperate, pathetic whore, aren’t you?” He bit at the side of your neck.
“Only for you, sir!” You cried, gripping onto the sheets below you.
“You always know the right answers, doll. Be good for me and cum.” He said, squeezing your neck a little tighter.
You got lightheaded from the choking, intensifying the pleasure you felt. Your orgasm hit you, making your legs shake and broken sobs of his name leave your mouth.
“Good fucking slut. Is that what you’ve been needing all day?” He asked as he rode out your orgasm. “Just needed to cum on my cock?” His hips stilled as he came inside you, muttering ‘fuck’ under his breath before catching his breath.
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utahimeow · 2 years
Text
home workout | wakatoshi ushijima
summary — wakatoshi works out at home. he looks hot doing it.
pairing — wakatoshi ushijima x reader
warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, blowjob, cum swallowing, pet name ‘my love’
word count — 1.3k
author’s note — please listen to this audio of wakatoshi (and kuroo) breathing heavily for the most effective experience
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It’s not your fault your boyfriend is totally irresistible. He’s tempting you on purpose– you’re sure of it.
You’re trying so, so hard to focus on the reality show playing on the TV, but Waktoshi is being terribly obscene. A few feet away, he’s splayed out on a yoga mat, lifting dumbbells over his head.
It’s unintentional, the way he gasps and heaves and, ever so often, groans. It’s unintentional, yet it leaves you squeezing your thighs together and biting down on your tongue because your mind is starting to wander.
If you were a better person, you’d go to any other room in the house and let him work out in peace. But you stay seated, let your eyes creep over to the titan of a man in your living room.
He’s a powerhouse in every aspect. You’d think that maybe you’d be used to it after having him in your life for so long, but your eyes widen and drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him.
Thick, hard thighs. Veined arm muscles, straining. Carved pectorals and abdomen, clenching with every movement. Corded muscle over every inch of his body–a display of pure, unwavering strength. The manifestation of years of work he’s put into the sport he plays for a living now. Wakatoshi’s tan skin gleams with droplets of sweat, too, face flushed down to his chest.
It’s terribly, horribly teasing. It’s precisely what he looks like when he’s above you, rutting his powerful hips into yours relentlessly, face morphed into a mixture of concentration and bliss. It’s what he sounds like when he pounds away at you, brings you to tears from pure bliss.
You want him. You need him. Your mouth is too empty, you decide. So you stand, shuffling over to him with an edge of guilt.
“Can you stop?” you say, standing by his mat.
He pauses, thick eyebrows furrowing. Concern quickly fills his sharp features.
“What have I done, my love?”
“You’re hot. It’s distracting me,” you tell him, crossing your chest.
His shoulders sag when it hits him he hasn’t actually done anything wrong and he chuckles, a deep rumble in his broad chest. “I apologise. Can you forgive me?”
“I will if you let me suck your dick,” you say, already sinking to your knees between his robust thighs. There’s mischief dancing behind the batting of your eyelashes, enticing your sweet boyfriend.
Wakatoshi likes to think he’s focused– it’s what he’s been told all his life, by coaches and teachers alike. His concentration never wavers, his determination ever so stable. Around you, though? He becomes entirely unrelenting.
It’s why he doesn’t stop you as you paw at his jersey shorts, smoothing a hand up his thigh, along his crotch, up to the waistband. It’s why he nods when you peer up at him for permission to pull them down his legs, no matter how simple it would be for him to ask you politely to wait until he finishes the few reps he has left.
His boxers come down and his cock, half-hard, springs upwards in its entirety. Your fingertips barely touch when they wrap around the tanned flesh which jumps when you start stroking up and down gently.
Drool pools in your mouth, your lidded eyes dropping to the sight of your boyfriend’s perfect dick. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you pump up and down his veiny length until he’s rock hard and blushing and pearly rivulets of pre dribble from the slit of his tip.
That’s when you start to drag your tongue along him, from his base all the way to his head, watching attentively as his head falls back and he showcases his glistening Adam’s apple. He’s always so sensitive, falling apart at your slightest touch.
Your thumb teases his slit, smearing pre over his tip as it leaks while your tongue traces the veins that adorn his cock. And then, with a lustful hunger burning deep in your abdomen, your lips wrap around him and swallow.
You hardly give yourself a second to adjust as you take half of him without hesitation, tears welling and throat clenching as you adjust to the girthy intrusion. Wakatoshi hisses as his giant hand flies to your scalp, stopping you before you can push yourself any further.
“Easy, my love,” he says in a strained whisper.
It’s hard to take his advice when you peer up and catch the tensing of his hard muscles, the parting of his lips, and the affection that glimmers in his olive eyes. It urges you on, really.
You pull back with webs of spit connecting your lips to his cock, stomach fluttering as your boyfriend brings his hand to your cheek and strokes it with his thumb. A second later and you’re dipping your head back down to envelop your mouth around him, choosing to bob your head this time.
“Oh, f-” Wakatoshi cuts himself off with a groan, your throat so warm and tight around him that he shivers. He sighs when your free hand moves to grasp at one of his heavy balls, squeezing lightly but it’s just enough to make his cock throb in your mouth.
As you bob, you take him further and further until your nose is pressed to his pelvis and the dark wiry hairs of his happy trail tickle your skin. He squeezes his eyes shut from the jolts of pleasure that travel deep into his core, his brain turning to fog from the bliss of your slippery mouth. His flesh becomes seared, the blush on his cheeks seeping down to his chest.
Your throat clicks and splutters around him–he’s so big, not meant to be taken like this, and yet you do. With wet eyes and a numb mind, you keep him shoved down your mouth as your fingers take turns fondling one of his balls at a time.
Wakatoshi thinks he’s close to passing out. He can hardly remind himself to stave off his orgasm, too busy as he’s rapt by the burning pleasure of your tongue working his cock.
You pull away, heaving for air, but it’s only to mouth at his balls and suckle at them until they’re covered in your slobber. You trail your tongue along the underside of his cock next, watching him gulp– watching him slowly fall apart.
When you swirl your tongue and suck lightly at his tip, Wakatoshi moans. His abdomen tightens, his fingers scratching at your scalp as they tangle into your roots. He’s losing all semblance of composure. You can tell, from the way his thighs tense and ragged breaths fall from his lips.
“I’m- close,” he groans, low, through clenched teeth.
You’re bobbing your head again with determination, the lewd sounds every time you lower your mouth only bringing Wakatoshi to his edge more quickly. With your hand pumping up and down simultaneously, he doesn’t stand a chance.
His cock twitches in your mouth, and with a deep, rumbling groan that shakes his entire body, he releases. His warm load spills down your throat, his muscles bulging as pleasure wracks his huge body. A Roman god succumbing.
As you pull off of him to replenish your lungs, Wakatoshi’s mind is airy. To him, one thing becomes clear, however.
He lunges forward, scooping you up with ease despite having orgasmed just a moment ago.
“Wakatoshi!” you squeal as he tosses you upon the couch. He kisses you, messy, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to taste himself on your tongue. It makes your head spin.
“I’d like to make sure you’ll forgive me,” he says, still breathless and blushing. His hands wander up your t-shirt, fingertips brushing at your skin making you shiver. “Will you let me return the favour, please?”
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phant0mth1ef · 2 months
Text
now i’m in exile seeing you out. pt. 3
-
you didn’t show up to the spot bakugou had wanted you to meet him at, although you had made it to the city, but the moment you actually saw him sitting inside with a cup of hot chocolate, his large hands covering both sides of the mug as he stared into it.
the girls from ua highschool had befriended you during the licensing exam, seeking you out in the anteroom after you’d saved them from shindo at the start, shooting pieces of terrain up to catch them so they wouldn’t hit the earth as hard before you’d ran off to go deal with the source of the vibrations.
since then, you’d all grown much closer to each other, and they started inviting you over to their dorm so that you could all hang out and gossip, of course, they didn’t know about your history with their resident class hothead.
“what about you, y/n? have you got a boyfriend back at shiketsu? we heard that bald boy saying someone liked you at the exam!” hagakure may have been invisible, but that doesn’t mean she missed anything when she was at the exam.
“sorry to disappoint, but no, shiketsu has a no fraternizing policy. i can’t even go to inasa or shishikura’s dorm.” you spoke with a small smile on your face as the girls groaned, itching for some romance.
almost as if on cue, the fridge in the kitchen shut to reveal a blonde boy in a skull t-shirt, grabbing a variety of different vegetables and a cutting baord before the quiet sounds of chopping were heard in the next room.
“it sucks that bakugou’s so mean! he’s hot.” once again, hagakure chose to speak up silently as the other girls quietly agreed, even you nodded.
“say, y/n. why don’t we set you up with someone in our class?” mina had a naturally loud voice, so bakugou couldn’t help but raise his head up once he caught a portion of your conversation.
“no thank you. i’m not really looking for anyone at the moment.” he could almost picture the embarassed smile on your features, afraid to admit to them that you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.
“come onn, i’m sure you’d be great with someone like todoroki or iida.” his knuckles were beginning to turn white as he almost cut himself with the knife, no way was half n’ half getting to you before he did.
when he start thinking sappy shit like that?
“they’re both really nice and sweet, but honestly i’m not really looking for anyone.” the blush on your face just grew redder, exposing your true feelings to the girls as they all shared a knowing grin with one another.
the topic was eventually dropped and you all begun to watch a movie, the silent sounds of someone rummaging around the kitchen were accompanying the sounds coming from the tv screen.
halfway through, a head was popped through the doorway.
“dinner’s ready! get it while it’s hot. or don’t. i don’t care.” you’d never really seen this side of katsuki before, the side that’s always angry at the world no matter what.
you were used to the katsuki that would calmly tell you about his day as you both either studied or did homework, the katsuki that would hold doors open for you, the katsuki that would always prioritize your safety over his.
the girls quickly pulled you into the kitchen, much to your dismay as you tried to tell them that it was okay and you really should’ve been going by now.
“this all looks so yummy! what’re you gonna get, y/n?” uraraka turned to you with a bowl in her hand as you politely waved the bowl away.
“oh no thank you, i’m not hungry right now.” you were hungry. matter of fact you hadn’t eaten all day, but you weren’t trying to overstay your welcome, nor were you trying to stay in the same place as bakugou for too long.
you could feel his eyes glaring daggers into the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to telepathically talk to you.
“you need to eat, dumbass.”
it was like his voice kept playing on repeat in your mind ever since the day you and him had talked at the training session. or well since the day you talked and he just stood frozen like a statue.
“i should get going now before it gets too dark. thank you for inviting me over!” you spoke hurriedly as you quickly left to grab your shoes and leave, a part of your excuse was true, it was getting dark.
“you forgot this!” you froze in your spot where you stood just outside of the ua dorm building, what could you have possibly forgotten?
bakugou stood there, a small smile on his face as his whole body relaxed, he knew he could be himself around you. even if you were currently mad at him.
he held out your sweater.
“seriously? that’s what you have to say to me? keep the damn sweater.” you scoffed before quickly turning on your heels, walking away as he stood there holding the bundle of polyester in his hands.
the next time you’d hung out with the girls from ua, you had invited them over to your dorm for a change, although you didn’t have a common room, so you were all forced to huddle together in your room which thankfully was not small and had sufficient space.
the girls took a few minutes to glance at things, rummaging through your drawers to see what your style was, looking at the books you had, and it seemed as if they all stopped once they’d seen a photo frame hidden behind a few stacks of paper.
the most ill-tempered guy they knew was smiling, a genuine smile as he held up a peace sign with one arm around you, your expression mirroring his face.
they chose to ignore it, because to be fair, if you wanted them to know that you and bakugou were friends, you would’ve told them.
asui was a bit oblivious though, and rather blunt so when she spoke up, you tried to not take any offense.
“you know bakugou?” the rest of the girls looked at her, almost if they were trying to tell her to shut up.
“yes. we grew up together.” you smiled, although you weren’t really feeling like talking about how you don’t talk anymore.
“do you still talk?” and there was the winning question.
you sighed and explained to them what had happened between you both, opting to just tell them because the truth would come out soon anyway.
“and he hasn’t apologized??” momo was the first to start talking again.
“no. and i don’t know what to do because if i reach out now it’s basically telling him that it doesn’t matter what he does and that i’ll just automatically forgive him.”
mina was on her phone, simultaneously texting kirishima about what was happening as he did the same.
“okay wait, so if he had like wanted to apologize, would you listen?” mina got serious out of nowhere, stuffing her phone into her back pocket.
“i mean he tried to talk with me a week ago, but i couldn’t like do that yet, like emotionally.” they just nodded as you sat in silence for a bit.
“i think i’m ready to try and forgive him now. i hope i’m ready. i miss him.”
once they’d gone home and you’d gotten ready for bed, you laid down to begin your mindless scrolls through social media, not realizing the hour it was.
[2:42 AM]
[kats💥🫂] you awake?
[you] what
[kats💥🫂] i want to talk. like an actual conversation where we sit down and talk like adults.
normally you wouldn’t give him the time of day, but the boy was usually lights out by 8:30 pm everyday, so you decided to hear him out.
[you] okay. when?
[kats💥🫂] tomorrow? please. um we’re sort of training till 6 pm-ish. can you stop by the dorms?
[you] ok.
tags: @itgetzweird08 @ch3rryjampi3 @riverozada @lechilankikyou-blog @lupitalove
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brokenmenswhore · 3 months
Text
betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace
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pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader
series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark
chapter warnings: none
a/n: this wasn’t going to be a series but it just kept getting longer and longer so i had to split it into parts! so let me know if you like it i have more! this is for all the girlies who can’t decide between all these insatiable men.
this is mainly aegon but what’s the harm in indulging in all three?
the mentions of brothel work will make a lot more sense later! i don’t know anything about cregan’s parents but for this they sucked and now they’re dead :)
series masterlist
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“How could you do such a thing?” your brother yelled, intruding into your chambers, anger evident on his face.
“What are you on about now, Cregan?” you sighed.
“We swore an oath of loyalty to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and you,” he spat, poking your chest, “suddenly decide to betrothe yourself to Prince Aemond? To the enemy?”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking up at him with genuine misunderstanding. “What?”
“Don’t act stupid with me, sister,” Cregan warned.
“I am not betrothed to Aemond Targaryen,” you spoke plainly, “and I do not believe I have the liberty to choose who I am to marry, as our father so made clear.”
Cregan backed away, noticing your genuine concern and confusion. His sister had never met Aemond Targaryen, and as Lord of his house, Cregan would have been asked of a betrothal for his sister.
“‘Tis being spread across the realm,” Cregan said, “that you are to wed Aemond Targaryen and secure the North’s allegiance to Aegon the Usurper- the very allegiance that we have already pledged to the rightful queen.”
“I dare say you should know me better than to think me willing to sully our name in such a heinous way, brother,” you replied, “if this is the news they bring, it is false. We must clear this up at once.”
“I’m trusting you, sister,” Cregan warned, “with the rumors about you, I doubt this will be taken as just a jest from the dragons.”
He didn’t need to clarify what he was speaking of. For months, there were whispers of you frequenting brothels, learning about, and trying to achieve, your own pleasure. They were true, of course, but your brother had no need to know it.
You were kept on a tight leash most of your life, ridiculously sheltered, never having the opportunity to learn about the pleasures of life or your own body. Your brother was never one for frequenting brothels, but his friends were, and growing up, you would often follow them in the dark, stunned by the atmosphere of the whorehouses.
The women in these places were free, full of pleasure, and unashamed of their bodies. They allowed themselves to indulge without boundaries or judgement. You became enamored with such things.
You soon learned that these women made their wages from whoring, which only sparked your interest even more. Though being a Stark came with privileges, when your brother became Lord of Winterfell, he promoted himself as a working man, always assisting in matters pertaining to The Wall. You always felt like using Stark coin meant taking from Cregan, and you wanted to make your own way in the world. You loved being a Stark, but you loved being someone with no expectations or labels as well. You only worked a few nights per moon at one particular brothel that only allowed you clients who would not recognize you. You had your own coin, no name, and the ability to explore pleasure like never before. You were still a Stark in reality, however, so you knew to be careful, but the alternative lifestyle allowed you to have confidence in carrying yourself, rather than needing the help of your House or a husband.
Cregan had hounded you about the rumors for weeks, reminding you that as a lady of an esteemed house, you had certain duties, and certain privileges were off limits. He also reminded you that you would have much trouble finding a husband if you did not remain untouched.
You contested that it was unfair for him to have the freedom to seek out brothels, but it was looked down upon for you to do just the same. You didn’t fight too hard, though, so as not to cause suspicion that the rumors were true.
“Those rumors are cruel, and you and I both know it,” you retorted, “if they think me a whore, it should only fend them off of believing in this Targaryen lie so easily.”
“You are too strong-willed for your own good, sister,” Cregan sighed, turning on his heels and exiting your chambers.
“It is not true,” Cregan pleaded, “my sister has never even met your uncles. She claims it to be false information spread by the king, and I believe her. My house is still with you.”
Jacaerys nodded his head, choosing to believe his friend. The moment the news of the alleged betrothal hit Dragonstone, Jace returned to Winterfell, eager to hear that his friend had not betrayed him. “I was not even aware you had a sister.”
“She is not around much,” Cregan explained, “she is much too independent to allow me any sense of control over her that does not directly impact the happenings of our House.”
“You think her too independent for marriage?” Jace questioned.
“I think her too independent for me to do that to any poor man,” Cregan laughed, “but I think she would agree to it. If it benefitted the Stark name, of course.”
Jace nodded, looking out over Winterfell as he thought. “My uncle Aemond may very well make good on this announcement,” he alleged, “this news may be a warning toward your house.”
“Meaning?” Cregan asked for clarification.
“Meaning that he may very well intend to marry your sister and force your hand in their favor, no matter what it may require.”
Cregan scoffed. “I am not scared of Aemond Targaryen, or his dragons.”
“Is a marriage to your sister the only way my uncles will be able to force your support?” Jace inquired, turning toward Cregan.
“Likely so,” Cregan answered, “but if Aemond Targaryen tries to force my sister’s hand in marriage, then I shall pity him more than I wish him dead.”
“Allow me to take her hand, then,” Jace offered, “lock away all options for my uncles. Aemond is nothing if not a properly dutiful man. A psychopath, yes, but a properly dutiful psychopath.”
“No,” is all Cregan said before turning back toward the view.
“And why not?”
“You do not want to wed my sister, Jacaerys, it would only be more strife for you.”
“It would solidify the North’s allegiance to my mother and dismiss any way for The Greens to try and steal it.”
Cregan pondered for a moment. Jacaerys was an ally, yes, but was also one of his closest friends, and he did not relish in the thought of Jacaerys being wed to his sister. He also knew how stubborn you could be, and he knew it would be more of a burden on Jace than anything. One thing was certain: he would rather have you wed Jacaerys than Aemond Targaryen.
Cregan and Jacaerys caught you out in the courtyard, snow sticking to your hair as it fell, watching with admiration as the Night’s Watch practiced their swordsmanship.
“She has always wanted to learn,” Cregan told Jacaerys, “but not a one of them will allow it.”
They stepped closer before Cregan called your name. You turned to him, catching his gaze before turning back to the Night’s Watch, intentionally ignoring his calling.
He called you repeatedly until you sighed and stood up, marching over to him.
“What could not have waited, brother?” you asked, bothered, “you can see I am otherwise occupied.”
“They will never let you wield a blade, sister, you were not occupied.”
“I quite enjoy watching the men in uniform, thank you very much,” you responded, “I would call myself occupied when watching such things.”
You knew the comment would piss him off, and you were not in the mood to be scolded by whatever he would say.
“This is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen’s first born son,” Cregan said, motioning toward Jacaerys.
You gave Jace a quick smile before turning back to Cregan. “Okay?”
“You are to wed him in a fortnight.”
“Pardon?” you scoffed, “and to who do you think you speak?”
“If you are not already betrothed, I do not see the issue,” Cregan stated.
“You still do not believe me, do you? You would truly force my hand to prove it was not already previously forced?”
“This will secure our oath to the True Queen.”
“And what of my decisions? Are you to make them all for me now?” you fought, “you promised me it would not be like it was with father, Cregan.”
Your words hit him hard. Your father was controlling and manipulative, constantly taking away your free will in favor of the choices he thought best for Winterfell.
“I do not wish for it to be,” Cregan spoke, his voice now more intimate, “but I fear The Greens may make it so. Please trust me, Y/N.”
You exchanged a long glance before you shifted your gaze to Jacaerys, who smiled at you warmly, and then you returned back to Cregan. He was right, if The Greens wanted this allegiance bad enough, they had the power (and the dragons) to come get it themselves. “Okay.”
Cregan sighed in relief, straightening his posture and smiling. “Lovely,” he spoke, “I suppose we shall begin preparations tomorrow. The sooner it is official, the better.”
Cregan left, off to attend to his duties, leaving you alone with Jacaerys.
“He did not tell me he had a sister,” Jacaerys said.
“He does not often speak of me unless necessary,” you responded, “I often think he wishes I was much different. Less vocal, perhaps.”
Jacaerys smiled. “Why would it be such a terrible trait?”
“I do not exist in a world in which my voice holds weight, My Prince. I admit, it would be easier on Cregan if I was not so intent on using it anyway.”
“I think a voice unused is a voice wasted,” Jacaerys started, “and I think it would be a shame for yours to go unheard. I think it too pretty.”
You blushed at his comment. “You flatter me, My Prince, but it is unnecessary. I have already agreed to wed you. You do not owe me flattery.”
“I do not flatter you because it is what you are owed,” Jace explained, “I flatter you because you are pretty enough to be flattered.”
It was a genuine compliment, and one you had never heard before. The men at the brothels often complimented you, but it was out of pure lust, never out of the adoration you felt now.
You and Jacaerys became somewhat close over the next few days, spending most of your days attempting to get to know one another. You showed him some parts of Winterfell that Cregan hadn’t, nothing of the brothels, but your favorite spots in the woods, and the cave you so often ran to for solace.
“This is my favorite place in the world,” you told Jace, watching him look up at the ice formations atop the cave, “because of this.” You gestured to a giant hot spring in the ground.
“How does such a thing develop in such a cold environment?” Jacaerys asked.
“I do not know,” you admitted, “but I’m rather glad it did.”
Jacaerys watched you smile as you spoke about your favorite place, your eyes lighting up as you bent down to run your fingertips through the water. He stepped closer to you, causing you to stand up and meet his eye level.
“I think I quite like Winterfell,” he nearly whispered, tentatively placing his hands on your waist, nervous that he was overstepping.
“The cold looks good on you, My Prince,” you said, eye contact never breaking.
Jacaerys moved his face closer to yours slowly, giving you ample opportunity to stop him or back away, but you didn’t bite.
You appreciated him taking his time, but he was taking all too long. “Fucks sake, Jace,” you said, grabbing either side of his face in your hands and pulling him into a kiss. Your lips moulded perfectly together, the grip on your hips tightening slightly as your bodies were now pressed together.
Jacaerys broke the kiss first, taking a moment to breathe. “I need to return home to Dragonstone first thing to update my mother. I promise to return to you as soon as I may.”
You pressed your forehead against his. “You better.”
Jacaerys was only gone two nights when you heard the intense whooshing that could only be caused by the wings of a dragon hitting the wind. He’s back already? you thought, looking into the sky to pinpoint Vermax. You spotted the wingspan in the distance, but something was off. The wingspan was too large. In fact, the wingspan was astoundingly large. The sheer size of the dragon was quickly noticed by onlookers within the castle walls, everyone turning their heads to sky. This is not Vermax. Something was wrong.
You stood atop a castle wall, making you the closest in the castle to the dragon, as her bronze and green feet gripped a platform atop the castle walls that was often used for catapults. She was obscenely close to you, nearly knocking you down from the wind force of her wings falling next to her body. You stepped back to give her some space, one of her eyes being the size of almost your entire body. She was beautiful, but her size would have intimidated even Cregan.
Her rider jumped down next to her, ducking under a wing to approach you. It was a face you had never seen before, but you were smart enough to know that there was only one person alive with staple silver hair and only one eye.
You wanted to make a witty comment about your ‘marriage betrothal,’ but the closer he got, the more you realized that although you had strong feelings about what he did, you had never actually met him, and you did not know what to say. You, however, refused to ever be rendered speechless.
“Couldn’t have landed a little further away, My Prince?” you asked as his footsteps became closer and closer, stopping a good ten feet away from you.
“She has a mind of her own, My Lady,” he responded, standing tall with both hands behind his back in proper stance.
“I would think so, she is a living creature.”
Aemond smirked. “I presume you know why I’ve come?”
“I know not of what you want, My Prince.”
“I believe you do. I did not announce a betrothal to jest, My Lady.”
You were slightly taken aback by the fact that he knew who you were so quickly. Even men at the brothels could not tell it was you- you feared there was something about you that gave it away. You quickly remembered you were adorned with the profile of a wolf head in steel, and you relaxed a bit.
“You did not announce a betrothal on anyone’s account but your own,” you fought, “I did not agree to such things and I will not agree to such things. What was your intent, My Prince? To tell me via raven that we are to be wed and anticipate I welcome you with open arms? I do not even know you.” Your tongue was becoming looser and looser, but you were growing angry. What right did he have to suggest you would agree to a betrothal he told the realm about before even asking you? You had never met this man before, and this was your only connection. He almost ruined your relationship with your brother, as well as your brother’s relationship with Rhaenyra and her family.
“I have received word that you are to marry my nephew Jacaerys,” he stated. You thought he would continue his sentence, but it ended there as he awaited a response.
“And?”
“And? My Lady, you are too disagreeable. You are to ride to King’s Landing with me as we prepare the terms of our marriage.”
“I will do no such thing,” you spat.
Aemond sighed, taking a few steps closer to you, but still leaving a few feet between your bodies.
“You will accompany me to King’s Landing, or you will watch Vhagar burn your home.”
You stared at him, searching his eye for any hint that the threat may be empty, but you found none. You barely found anything. You were not one to flinch or retreat, however.
“Threats are not the proper way to court a woman, especially one who is already betrothed to another,” you said, keeping your head up.
Without even turning his head, Aemond kept his eye locked on you, and shouted “Dracarys!” Vhagar knew it was directed to her, and she blew a steady stream of fire toward one of the castle walls, causing it to cave in on itself. The people below you ran away from the damage, frightened by Vhagar and any further threat to their home.
From below, you noticed Cregan running outside, surveying the damage before turning toward Vhagar, and noticing you and Aemond. You exchanged a look from a distance, sure that he was looking at you. If you left with Aemond, Cregan would never forgive you, and you would be betraying your family. If you didn’t leave with Aemond, he would burn down Winterfell, Cregan would still never forgive you, and you would still be betraying your family. You also did not want to hurt or lose Jacaerys, but watching the men of Winterfell try to extinguish the flames of your home, you knew you had the power to keep it safe, even if it meant giving yourself up.
“Fine,” you snapped, walking straight past Aemond until you were level with Vhagar’s head. “You have free will, you know,” you whispered to her, Aemond approaching and lifting you onto her saddle.
The moment you arrived in King’s Landing, members of the King’s Guard were surrounding Vhagar, ready to grab you if you tried to retreat. As soon as your feet hit the ground, one of the men tied your wrists behind your back, adding further restrictions to keep you from trying anything.
“What a way to welcome a lady,” you spat.
The men did not speak, they just followed you and Aemond closely as the prince walked through the Red Keep, ignoring any unsure stares as he approached the throne room. He pushed both doors open, treading straight up to the Iron Throne. You were angry, but you kept your head up, refusing to appear weak. There was no one already in the room apart from the King, who sat on the throne in anticipation as you approached.
Aemond pivoted to stand next to the throne and therefore next to his brother, but the guards grabbed your wrists and halted you in place in front of the steps to the throne before you could continue following Aemond.
“I hear we have a wolf in our midst,” the King spoke.
You remained silent. You supported Rhaenyra in her claim to the throne, despite your brother’s concerns. Aegon had usurped her throne, had been obsessed with bloodshed since the crown touched his skull, and allowed his brother to falsify a betrothal to the realm for his own political gain. You hated him. He was not worth the breath.
“Does the wolf not howl?” he asked. You stared at him blankly, shoulders back, head up, mouth closed.
“I hear you’ve disrespected by dear brother and decided to marry my nephew,” he tried, but still, no answer. “Now tell me,” he said, standing up and slowly walking down the stairs, cup in hand, “why would you want to do that?”
You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on keeping your breath steady as he approached you, standing directly in front of you.
“Jacaerys-“ he started, but he stopped for a moment, almost as if speaking the name disgusted him, “Jacaerys is not a man!” he yelled, smashing the cup on the floor next to your feet. There was something more to it, something in the past that you weren’t aware of.
You didn’t flinch. You remained still, eyes locked on him as he calmed down until he finally looked at you, matching your intense gaze.
“If you wanted a man, I have one for you. Funnily enough, I actually provided you with one for a husband,” Aegon continued, raising an arm toward his brother, “and I suggest you act grateful.”
Aegon stayed in your face for a moment, intentionally running his eyes over every portion of your upper body, not even trying to hide it when he traced the line of your dress hem and cleavage. He followed your body back up to your eyes. “Nothing to say?” he taunted.
“The only reason a man would force a woman’s hand for political gain,” you started, “is if he is too weak to garner allies himself.”
Aegon’s nostrils flared as he looked at you. He was partially hurt, the word cutting deeper than any other could have, and he was partially angry that you would speak to your king in such a way. There was a small part of him that enjoyed it, though he would never admit it.
“I am not weak,” he spat.
“Then untie my hands,” you contested, “unless you do not think yourself strong enough to handle me.”
Aegon nodded his head, smiling and waving a finger at you as he backed up slightly. “Ah ah ah, I see, you want me to free you so you can run back to your bastard. My darling, you’re standing in front of a king.”
You scoffed, “you are no king of mine.”
Aegon’s smile dropped, his eyes becoming dark and his gaze intense. He seemed like he wanted to continue fighting with you, but his next comeback was lost in his throat. “Get her out of my sight.”
The guards started to direct you away, but you were insistent on getting in the last word. “You should lock me in the dungeon if you’re so scared of me, Your Grace,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “I can’t promise I’ll behave anywhere else.”
Aemond tensed at your words, realizing he was in for a rather tumultuous time with you, but Aegon sat back on the Iron Throne, a slight smile on his lips as you were dragged out of the room.
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candycandy00 · 2 months
Note
someone said filthy and raunchy reqs for ume???? say no more !! what abt both of you eating at pothros and this random guy gives you his number, now ume isn’t used to this as everyone knows you’re bofurin’s leader gf, and at first he’s confused so he doesn’t react jealous, so that somehow makes you feel uneasy, like, why isn’t he getting jealous??
anddd when you both get home, he pushes you against the wall and absolutely PROVES how jealous he is and how disrespected he feels that you think he didn’t care enough 👀 so he shows you he does care ANSBDNFNS i’m such a sucker for him.
thank you so much in advance, if you do this req!!! 🤍✨ if not, thanks either way jsjs!
Lose Your Composure - An Umemiya x Reader Fanfic
Smut. 18+. Rough sex. Fem Reader. Ume is in his 20’s here! Divider by @benkeibear. Any and all feedback is adored!
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You blink up at the man holding out a napkin to you, a series of digits scrawled on the paper. Making no move to take it, you glance over at your boyfriend for his reaction. 
Umemiya is looking at the man with the same confused expression you’re wearing. 
You laugh nervously. “Uh, I’m flattered, but I have a boyfriend,” you say, gesturing toward the very tall and recognizable man sitting beside you at the table. 
Honestly, what is this guy thinking? He’s been staring at you from the counter ever since he walked in. Does he not know who Umemiya is? And even if he somehow doesn’t, how brazen do you have to be to give your number to a woman while she’s sitting with another man?
He’s still holding it out to you. “Take it anyway,” he says with a smarmy grin. “You might get tired of this guy sooner than you think.”
You narrow your eyes. You were trying to be polite at first, but this guy is pushing it! “I’m not interested,” you say with a firm tone. 
The stranger shrugs and finally pulls his hand back, shoving the crumpled napkin into his pocket and walking out of Pothos. 
You sigh and look over at Ume, curious to see his reaction, but he’s already gone back to eating his food, a pleasant smile on his face. 
Damn. You were sort of hoping for something else. 
You’ve never seen Ume jealous before. Maybe it’s because he’s used to seeing you surrounded by other guys, and those guys are his friends who would never dream of being inappropriate with you. To be honest, you’d like to see him get a little possessive, just once. You love that he trusts you and respects you, and you love how sweet he is, but is it wrong to want to see your boyfriend a little jealous? A little riled up? 
Just the thought has you getting heated. You’ve never seen Ume in a fight before, though you know he’s strong. He’s made sure to never expose you to violence, and you appreciate his efforts. But it also means you’ve never seen him being serious or angry. You’ve been together for months now, and you’ve only managed to catch brief glimpses of his firm, dominant side. It peeks out every so often in the bedroom, so quick you almost miss it, and always followed by an apologetic look from him. 
Once it was his hand on your head while you were sucking him off, pressing your head down just before cumming in your mouth. Another time it was him gripping your wrists above your head while you laid on your back, his body above yours. He’d seemed to feel guilty about those instances, but you found them extremely hot. 
Now, you were expecting him to have some sort of reaction to a random guy hitting on you right in front of him, but he didn’t. He didn’t even seem to care.  
You finish your meal in silence, occasionally nodding along as your boyfriend talks about his garden or the crazy antics his friends got into today. You’re not mad, but you are a bit disappointed, and you’re afraid that will be obvious if you speak too much. 
After leaving Pothos, Ume walks you back to your apartment. He practically lives here too, but he hasn’t mentioned staying over tonight. Usually he just does as he pleases, so it’s not like he needs an invitation. Still, he seems a little awkward as the two of you ride the elevator up to your floor. Has he noticed the shift in your mood? 
“Is everything alright?” he asks as you step out of the elevator. 
“It’s fine,” you say as you make your way down the hall, digging your key out of your bag. The response came out a bit sharper than you’d intended. 
“Are you upset?” 
The question makes you feel a surge of guilt. Ume has done nothing wrong. But you still feel the way you feel. You should at least explain that. 
You stop in front of your door, unlocking and opening it. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you say, “I’m not upset. I just expected you to have a bigger reaction to that guy trying to give me his number. It almost feels like you don’t care if other guys hit on me.”
Walking inside and dropping your bag and keys on a nearby table, you still don’t look at him. You hear Ume follow you in and shut the door behind him. When you flick on the light and finally turn to face him, your blood turns to ice. 
Your sweet, adoring boyfriend who is always smiling at you, who always looks at you with the kindest expressions, now looks like an entirely different person. His smile is nowhere to be found, his lips a hard line. There’s a fiery intensity to his eyes that almost scares you, a look in them that you’re certain has made many men quiver in fear. Before you is not your doting lover. It’s the Bofurin boss that has crushed every enemy who dared to challenge him. 
It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 
“Ume?”
He doesn’t say anything, only moves toward you at a speed you didn’t think possible and presses your back against the wall. Not hard, but firm. 
You look up as he towers over you, his big hands on the wall beside your head. Looking down at you, a few strands of hair slide down around his eyes, and you feel like a helpless little bug. 
“H-Hajime?” You don’t call him by that name often, so used to calling him Ume even before you started dating. His eyes seem to glimmer when he hears it. 
“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been holding back?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically low. “How much I wanted to break that asshole’s neck for even looking at you? How I wanted to take you right there on the table so the whole town knows I’m the only one who can touch you?”
Your heart is racing, your breaths coming quicker as you stare up at him. You’re already getting wet. 
“And you think I don’t care?” His voice goes even deeper as he leans in, his beautiful face tantalizingly close to yours. “I’ll show you how much I care.”
He kisses you, not in the usual sweet and gentle way, but with his mouth claiming yours, stealing your breath, his tongue pushing in to taste you. 
Your arms automatically move to encircle his neck as you kiss him back, suddenly feeling like all these clothes you’re both wearing are in the way. He fixes that quickly, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to the ground, then tearing your clothes off so aggressively, he rips your pretty new underwear. 
This is a side you’ve never seen of him. And when he pulls his white T-shirt over his head and looks at you with that burning expression, his hair slightly disheveled, you nearly buckle right there. 
You stand on your tiptoes, leaning up to kiss him again, but he suddenly grabs your shoulders and turns you around to face away from him. You hear him unbuckle his belt, then he’s pressing your upper half against the wall, slightly bending you over, and forcefully spreading your legs. 
His fingers slide down, dipping between your slick folds, feeling how absolutely drenched you are. When he finds your clit, circling and rubbing it with one finger, you moan against the wall. 
He leans over you, his bare, toned chest pressing into your naked back, and says, “That fucker at Pothos put me in a bad mood. You’re gonna have to fix that.”
A shiver runs down your spine. Ume rarely ever uses coarse language, at least in front of you. To hear him saying such things right in your ear as he plays with your throbbing clit is driving you mad. 
“Now spread wider and take my cock,” he says, nearly pushing you over the edge.  
You scoot your feet a little wider apart, as much as you can with your legs trembling, and then his hands are on your hips, grip firm, holding you in place. You gasp as you feel his entire length shove inside you, filling you up to the brim, stretching you to your limit. 
Before you can even adjust to his massive cock, his hands lift your lower half up, so that your legs are dangling above the floor, your upper half wedged against the wall. And just like that, he takes you. His thrusts are deep, powerful, making your helpless body jerk with each one. 
You whimper out his name as your hands press into the wall, trying to take pressure off your face. You were already on the edge of climax before he even started fucking you, now you’re about to explode with pleasure as your kind boyfriend rails you. 
Is this even Ume? The difference in his very aura makes you shudder with delight. How did he figure out this is what you’ve been craving? 
He slams in deep, hitting a sensitive spot that makes you crumble. Your orgasm ripples through you, bringing tears to your eyes as you moan incoherently. Your hands lose all strength and slip from the wall. You think you’re going to fall, but then Ume’s strong arms wrap around your torso, holding you up. The embrace is gentle, even as he continues pounding you with his cock, and you can feel his overwhelming love radiating through his arms, through his heartbeat against your back. 
Then, he stiffens inside you, pushing in so deep it feels like he’s inside your womb before shooting his thick, hot cum into your core. He stays buried that way, still holding you close, until he’s completely empty. Then he gently pulls out and sits you back on your feet. 
Your legs feel like they’re made of spaghetti as you struggle to turn around and look at him. He’s panting, his face red, his hair wet with sweat. And he’s wearing that cute apologetic expression. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, his voice sounding almost sheepish. 
You feel like laughing, but you don’t have the energy. Instead you collapse against his chest. “Ume, you just made me cum harder than I ever have in my life.”
His hands are rubbing your back. “So… you liked that? Me being more forceful?” 
You look up at him. “Yes, but not all the time. I don’t think I could handle that every night!”
He bends down slightly and scoops you up in his arms. “I just wanted to show you how I felt. When that guy offered you his number, I saw red. But I try to keep my composure in front of you. I don’t wanna scare you away.”
You lean up to kiss his cheek. “Every now and then it’s exciting to see you lose your composure,” you say as he carries you toward the bathroom. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with his sweet smile. 
464 notes · View notes
ravengards-rogue · 2 months
Note
I wanna suck Arthur off so bad
paradise, providence
arthur morgan x fem!reader.
✧ tags : fem!reader (no description of genitals, just the mention of nipples but gendered language used), deep-throating, cock-worship, praise, religious imagery. 18+
✧ wc : 1.3k
✧ a/n : me too anon. me too. got carried away thinking about arthur morgan getting blowjob and then .
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
If you weren't on your knees, hands shaking at the button of his slacks - Arthur would assume that this something happening in the sanctuary of his dreams.
You're a sight for sore eyes. Pretty feels a little juvenile for a woman like yourself. Beautiful feels too flowery. He'd only describe you in such a romantic way in the privacy of his journal, or into the dark night while you sleep in his tent.
He wipes his thumb against your cheek as you undo the button at the top of his pants, palms rubbing along the printof his cock slow. Your lashes flutter, lovesick and lusty in a way that makes Arthur's breath hitch. He makes a promise in the back of his mind that he'll return the favor to you ten fold.
"Gorgeous," He mutters, tongue laving over the split of his lips as you kiss his erection. You smile just a touch at the word he lands on. "Don't force yourself,"
"I already told you I ain't," You say steadily. Arthur gets swept up in the conviction as easily as he gets swept up in you. "I want too,"
"That's what I'm having a hard time with understanding, sweetheart."
You flash him a smile that makes his heartbeat pick up. Coy and pleasant. "Then stop trying too and let me do as I please. Alright, Mr. Morgan?"
He can't find words to respond with so he shakes his head and keeps his hands at his sides. Despite your trembling, your hands are practiced. You take his all the layers off of him in one go, though you do it slowly. His cock springs free all at once.
Too heavy to stand on it's own and half hard, he twitches at the warmth of your breath near his skin. There's something real dirty about the way you look at him. You're a good girl most of the time. Not prim but polite.
Yet you're breathing soft, bent at the knees in your nightgown and eyeing him like it's all you've ever wanted. You push your cheek up against his shaft and Arthur feels all the blood rush south. Hard as nails, his eyes can't focus anywhere but on your lips. Plush and full, you press a kiss to the base of his cock real sweetly.
"You're a real tease," He murmurs, edging on frustrated. "I'll remember that."
"I know it's not your strong suit, but patient, alright?"
It's a tall order he thinks, asking him to be patient when you've got your lips pressing kissing along the underneath side of his length. Wet and opened mouth, both hands on his thighs. He groans deep from his chest when your tongue finally touches his skin. He worries about how he tastes but you barely looked fazed and not at all displeased.
You lick a long stripe from base to tip, tracing the vein running on the underneath side of his cock with a sultry moan. You let yourself left linger ocne you're at the end, tongue flick underneath the head as pre-crum dribbles onto the surface. It's vulgar to look at it and sends a shiver down his spine. You don't react to that, either.
You make it look like it tastes good, shuddering as your hands grab tight and keep you anchored. He lets out a breath, trying not to close his eyes. He wants to keep the sight of you in his memories for any nights anyway, worshiping his cock like a well-paid working girl.
Arthur is apparently a luckier man than that. Getting this sort of service from someone so beautiful can only be a testament of that despite his rotten life. He's so stiff it hurts, hard enough that he can feel himself on edge with your every move.
You close your mouth around the tip and Arthur groans like he's been hit. The inside of your mouth is scorching hot. Feels too damn good for words. You slide your tongue around, getting used to the way he sits in your mouth before hollowing your cheeks out. You ease your down so slowly.
If he were a more discourteous fellow he'd hold you by your face and fuck your throat. In the effort of being patient, he keeps his hands at his sides and watches instead. His chest heaves in a breath, guttural moaning as the blood rush makes him lightheaded.
"Fuck, sweetheart,"
You blink up as you descend down slowly, spit and saliva pooling at as he stretches you open. Lips split at the corners, you look up with a mouth full of cock and Arthur nearly shoots his load down your throat right there. He ain't a man of worship but the sight of you on your knees is as close to paradise he could ever imagine.
He feels so mortal with the heat of your mouth. The stickiness of your saliva coating him down the base. You gag as you go deeper, eyes watering, but don't stop taking him down your throat even as he tells you not to force yourself.
"Don't deserve you, baby." He hums, unable to keep quiet. "You're too good to me."
You say something that makes your throat vibrate around his cock and his hips stutter, nearly thrusting himself even deeper. You slow down until you've swallowed all seven inches to base like it's easy. Watery eyes and your runny nose pressed to the hair neat at the base. You take a deep breath around it, swallowing all of it - tightening so much he might as well be fucking you.
He puts a hand on the back of your head head gently, not sure of what else to do with his hands. Your nipples are hard underneath your gown, arousal makes your eyes shine like gems.
It's a funny feeling Arthur gets seeing you like that. You start to move after you get him down once, cheeks still hollowing, sucking him in dutifully. You've got his cock so far in you he can see the outline of it from the outside and he can hardly think of anything else. Something ties tight in the base of his stomach, arousal flowing through his veins molten.
The private room fills with the sound of you going to work. Throaty gags and soft whines of appreciation every time he twitches, seemingly elated when filthy praise pours from Arthur's mouth like gospel. Ain't anything else he can think to do when you're take such good care of him but tell you. Gorgeous little thing you are, make him feel damn lucky, such a good girl.
He feels himself cumming hard and heavy, a sharp twist - heat flaring through his spine as he puts both hands on your head trying to pull you off of him.
"Shit, sweetheart - slow down, I'm gonna—"
The words die on his lips as you grip onto his thighs tight and swallow him down all the way again, sucking harder and deeper until Arthur feels his cum shoot right down your throat. He grunts aloud.
"Fuck!"
You make an appreciative noise as you swallow all of him down and wait for him to stop twitching before pulling off. Then, like you're being assessed - you open your mouth to show him that not a drop left.
He feels so damn dizzy he might die.
"You're more of a danger to my life than the barrel of any gun I've stared down. D'ya know that?"
Your throat is raspy as you smile and stand up, arms around his neck as you bat your eyes again. "Mm. Did you like it?"
He scoffs. "Did I—you know what, I ain't gonna give you an answer," He whispers, hands at your hips sliding down to squeeze the soft swell of your ass with a promise at his voice. "You get up on the bed and I'll show you. How's that sound?"
You grin sweet. "Sounds good to me."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
530 notes · View notes
Text
141 + König Jealousy Headcannons
Based on a request from anon- I suck and somehow posted my drafted one yet again☹️
Warnings: sexual references, mild angst
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Simon Ghost Riley-
When He Gets Jealous -
While Simon knows he is an attractive man, he still thinks that you can do much better than him
That being said, when you're around your close friends, and seem genuinely happy by their presence, Simon can't help the pit that forms in his stomach
He will get quiet and distant whenever he feels jealous. It's not a common emotion for him, and he doesn't know how to handle it
May honestly go to Johnny for advice about it
It'll take him a while to open up to you at first about his jealousy.
When he does finally come to terms with his jealousy....SCARY...DOG...PRIVELAGE
When You Get Jealous -
Let's be honest, this man is beautiful, so he constantly will have men and women vying for his attention
Simon isn't one for small talk with strangers though, so he often brushes them off politely, much to your amusement
That's not to say however, that you don't still get jealous when a fairly attractive person goes and chats him up
When he notices you get jealous, he'll make it a point to introduce you to the person who's flirting with him
Simon's not the overly affectionate type, but he would certainly make an exception if you were upset enough. He wants you to know he's yours until the end of time.
Doesn't even complain when you jump him the minute you guys get home
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König-
When He Gets Jealous -
Like Simon, König isn't very vocal about his jealousy, and he will get fairly quiet
He's still fairly insecure with himself, so when he sees someone he feels is more attractive than he is, he can't help but feel self-conscious
He will subconsciously go above and beyond for you- pulling out your chair, bringing you flowers, opening the car door for you- more than he already does
He doesn't fully understand why you are with him, but he will do whatever he can to keep you
Please reassure this poor man. He loves you so much and doesn't want to lose you
When You Get Jealous -
Poor baby doesn't ever intentionally make you jealous
He tries to be nice to any person who approaches him, and it indirectly makes you jealous
He also doesn't realize when people are flirting with him, he always just thinks they're being nice
Literally will feel SO bad if you're jealous, and will apologize profusely for making you feel bad
Gets adorably flustered if you mark him up. Doesn't know what to do with himself
Say the word, and he will RAVISH you in bed to make you feel better
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John Price-
When He Gets Jealous-
This man SCREAMS possessive (not in a toxic way). You are his and his alone
Will stare daggers at anyone who stares at you too long. He will make it known you're his.
Is definitely the type to waltz up to the person you're chatting with, and interrupt the two of you to introduce himself
If the person gets handsy with you? God help that person. Price would kill for you.
9/10 though, the minute his gruff, demanding voice comes out, it scares any possible suitor away from you
Will absolutely take you home and make SURE you know who you belong to ;)
When You Get Jealous-
When you get jealous, John gets pretty cocky about it
Depending on his mood, he may or may not feed into the flirting (just to see you get riled up)
Likes when you come over and make it known he's yours. He finds it cute when you get all fired up
Also finds it cute if you get all pouty about it, he will tease you quite a bit about it
Certainly won't complain if you mark him up once you get home. He'll wear those hickeys with pride
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
When He Gets Jealous-
Kyle doesn't really get jealous, and he hates the feeling of when he is. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't trust you
He may get a bit defensive if a man or woman is trying to shoot their shot with you, but he's confident enough in you and your relationship that he doesn't worry
If he does happen to get jealous, he will definitely get clingy. He'll come up and wrap his arm around you, or press a kiss to your cheek, making your relationship very apparent to the person who's talking to you
When You Get Jealous-
Kyle is very aware if he's being flirted with, or if someone's making a pass at him, and he's always quick to shut it down
Will feel really bad if you do get jealous, and will cuddle you for hours when you get home
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He's the type to constantly reassure you of his affections for you. He never wants you to feel like he'd want anyone else but you
He would hesitantly admit that he gets slightly turned on by your jealousy
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
When He Gets Jealous-
Johnny is fairly confident in his good looks, and he trusts you completely, so he doesn't often get jealous
When he does get jealous, it's oftentimes because he's drunk, and you'll honestly have to hold him back so he doesn't hurt someone (or himself)
Will absolutely make a scene. He will make the entire vicinity of wherever you are aware that you're his partner
If he gets jealous when he's not drunk, he trusts you enough to let you handle it on your own, but will 100% step in like the macho man he is to get the person away from you
May or may not cover you head to toe with hickies...the worst has to know you're his
When You Get Jealous-
Johnny finds it hilarious when you get jealous, and will ABSOLUTELY tease you about it
If the two of you get drunk enough, you both like to see who can make the other get the most jealous
When either of you get jealous, it usually ends up resulting in hours between the sheets (not that either of you would complain)
If you get upset about it, though, he'll feel horrible and will smother you with affection once you get home
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3K notes · View notes
adelheidvonschicksal · 4 months
Note
Can you do Zayne but we are jealous? 😭
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Summary: You didn’t want to be one of those people. The type that gets jealous about someone you aren’t even dating, the type to get jealous because of a hostess of all people. But thinking about how often he must come here for her to feel comfortable calling him by name (even with the word doctor thrown in front) makes your chest tight along with the way that she looks at him like she can win him over.
And if this cake is as delicious as it looks, filled with fresh berry jam between layers of vanilla and a pretty ripe red strawberry resting on a swirled mound of white sweet cream, she might.
Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader
Content warnings: jealousy, fluff, reader is a little bit childish in this one
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You didn’t want to be one of those people.
The type that gets jealous about someone you aren’t even dating, the type to get jealous because of a hostess of all people.
It’s sort of cliché, isn’t it?
The woman is just doing her job, isn’t she?
Hostesses are supposed to be polite and show courtesy to the customer. Providing exceptional and sometimes personal service is how you build a clientele, even a hunter like you knows how important optics can be.
Sometimes that might mean touching a shoulder.
Sometimes that might mean offering a suspiciously large piece of strawberry cake on the house to a customer’s table.
The overgenerous portion of cake is simply for the two of you to share. That’s all.
“I’ll give you time to look over the menu. Please let me know if you need anything,” the hostess says, and you think longer about the way her eyes linger on Zayne than you would like.
Zayne seems uncharacteristically fine with the treatment but you’re not. You aren’t happy about how the hostess—owner? — knows him by name. Thinking about how often he must come here for her to feel comfortable calling him by name (even with the word doctor thrown in front) makes your chest tight along with the way that she looks at him like she can win him over.
And if this cake is as delicious as it looks, filled with fresh berry jam between layers of vanilla and a pretty ripe red strawberry resting on a swirled mound of white sweet cream, she might.
“You knew exactly which table you wanted to sit at, huh,” you comment against your better judgment after the hostess graciously drops off your mini teapot before leaving to let you look over the menu.
“I like the spot by the window.”
“You must like it here a lot to have a nesting spot picked out already,” you say with an awkward laugh. You try so hard to make it sound like a joke, biting back the insecurity and irritation in your voice. Not trusting yourself to keep a straight face, you bring the porcelain teacup up to your mouth.
“This place is a convenient distance from the hospital the food is good, and the service is fast and above standard.” His face is completely unchanged as he stirs his tea, and it somehow makes you even more frustrated as he continues, “Not to mention their strawberry cake is the best one I’ve had so far.”
With a single finger, Zayne slides the plate off to you while the small dessert fork rests in his other hand for you to take. Placing your cup down, you quickly take the fork from him, stab it into the cake, and take a bite.
The dessert barely hits your tongue before your body works up a moan. It’s creamy, not too sweet, and absolutely delicious. It’s almost enough to make you forget about your jealousy as each bite leaves you hearing the harps of angels until Zayne explains that the hostess makes all the desserts in the teahouse.
You never had the sensation of wanting to spit out a dessert until now.
“Formed your review yet?”
Sucking the last orgasmic flavor from your tongue, you place the fork back on the plate and quickly push it back in his direction.
“It’s too sweet,” you lie, and such an obvious lie because you’d ask anyone who can bake like this to marry you if given the opportunity. Upset at the thought, you place your glare on the teacup in front of you, “and the tea tastes scorched.”
Finally, Zayne picks up on your negative attitude. More accurately, he finally decides to voice the fact that he’s noticed your mood dropping ever since you sat down.
“Aren’t you the one that begged me to take you here?”
“You can’t blame me for falling victim to the hype.”
“I take it I’m “the hype” in question?”
“Well, you did keep mentioning this place.” You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. We can’t get them right all the time.”
It’s the first time you’ve seen Zayne upset at you in a while, with his eyes narrowing in your direction. “If you’re in a bad mood then we should call it a day. I’ll take you home, you obviously could use the rest.”
Scowling, you clench your hands over your thighs. You really hate it when he talks like you’re one of his rowdy patients, or worse yet, a child who needs to be laid down for an afternoon nap.
“I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I got enough energy to walk home. I’ll catch up to you later,” you reply and snatch your bag up from the seat. You place however much you think you owe for the tea on the table and hope he doesn’t follow as you walk to the entrance, pausing briefly to roll your eyes at the basic “please come again” ringing behind you.
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It’s a few days before you hear from Zayne again aside from the text late the evening of your fight asking if you made it home in one piece. At the time, you were too annoyed to reply; and now that the anger subsided, you were too embarrassed to respond to him.
You feel like an asshole for getting so snippy about it in the first place.
Zayne didn’t really do anything wrong; it’s not like he was yours in the first place, but you still let your jealousy get the better of you. Now the only thing you were angry with was yourself for becoming so short-tempered with him instead of being honest about your feelings. You hated feeling like this, but anger was nothing that beating up a few wanderers couldn’t cure.
So, you throw on your work gear and head out into the city on your normal route. It offers a nice distraction to your guilty mind as you patrol the streets of Linkon for fluctuations.
There’s nothing too concerning going on. You barely manage to find a small group of low-powered wanderers on the edge of town, perfect for beating up and clearing your head before you decide to head back home.
On the way back to the apartment complex, you can see Akso Hospital, the towering blue windows on each floor waving at you from afar. Your eyes instinctively rise to the cardiac division, and it makes you think of Zayne.
“Is he in office today? Maybe I should visit him?” You take a step in the direction of the hospital then stop yourself. “What if he doesn’t want to see me right now?”
Deciding there’s no time like the present, you fetch your phone out of your pocket and click on your message thread with Zayne. As you thought, he hasn’t sent anything since that day. It makes fear spark in your heart as you hover your thumbs over the keyboard.
You’re too nervous to think of what to send.
Frowning, you stare at the screen, muddling over how to start, erasing word after word until you see three animated gray-blue bubbles appear at the bottom of your screen.
Zayne is typing.
…Zayne is typing!
It causes your mind to race frantically. “Did he see me typing? Has he been watching me type this whole time?”
Both ideas make your stomach turn as you wait for his agonizingly slow text to appear.
Are you available? My last patient canceled today. Your route is nearby if I remember correctly.
There’s a sweat-inducing pause before the last message.
If you still trust my opinion on sweets, why don’t we stop by the dessert shop together? My treat.
Your eyes widen at the offer. Zayne simply wants to take you out to eat again. You reread over his messages, zoning in on the second to last. If you still trust my opinion on sweets, why don’t we stop by the dessert shop together?
The same sickly feeling as before begins to propagate through your chest. This time it’s because you feel bad that he might somehow think your behavior a couple of days ago was his fault. Frowning, you quickly start to draft a response to meet him at the hospital. When you get to the café, you’ll apologize and treat him instead.
Sliding your phone back in your pocket, you head fast in the direction of Akso Hospital.
When you arrive, you’re not surprised to already see Zayne waiting for you by the entrance. He already traded out his uniform for his casual attire, and you briefly think about how he looks as handsome as ever in that black turtleneck.
“I was right to guess you were in the area,” he says, which is about the most standard greeting you’ve ever gotten to your surprise.
“Good evening, Dr. Zayne.”
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, and you nod, following him out to his car and making your way to the shopping district.
You’re pleasantly, or is it more correct to say awkwardly, surprised that he doesn’t bring up the incident from a few days ago on your walk through the market. However, that doesn’t stop you from thinking about it. Sighing, you suppose you should say something if only to erase the unbearable silence between the two of you.
“What am I supposed to say?”
You force a smile to muster some confidence.
“How was work?”
“Fine.”
“Been keeping yourself busy over the last few days?” you ask, delicately trying to breach the subject and where you stand with him.
“Work is always as such,” he replies, weaving his way through the crowd; his large frame creates a path for you to follow behind him and to also hide your disappointment from him. It looks like you’re back to square one as you decide it’s best to be quiet for now.
Eventually, Zayne stops and motions you to follow him to one of the street vendors. You’re still a few streets short of the café as you find yourself waiting in line with him for the sachima stall.
It’s puzzling that he’s stopping to buy more sweets when you’re already on your way to the dessert shop. Sure, Zayne had a sweet tooth, but it wasn’t that extreme. At least you thought.
“Didn’t you want to stop by that cafe?” you ask him.
Zayne shakes his head.
“No.”
He casually slides his hands in his pockets, stepping up as the line quickly begins to dwindle down. Confused, you tilt your head at him, and you notice dark hazel eyes scanning your puzzled expression.
“From what I hear, the desserts are too sweet and the tea is mediocre.”
You begin to pout at him. So, he did invite you out today because of that, not to talk about what happened but to make fun of you.
Slowly, he leans closer to you to whisper into your ear with the same smug grin he always has when teasing you. “It also happens to make an extremely jealous person I know stare daggers at the staff.”
Embarrassment claws itself into your skin, warming it as he steps forward and begins to purchase from the vendor. He pays no mind to your silence, and you question why you ever feel jealous when all he does is make fun of you. How awful to tease a woman about such a thing!
Your head droops with embarrassment as you wait off to the side for him.
When he finally steps in front of you with confectionaries in hand, you begin, “I’m sorry, Zayne. I was rude to you even though I asked you to take me, and it was childish to storm off like that.”
Instead of agreeing with you or mocking you like you thought he would, he says, “There’s no need to apologize.”
Zayne holds out the paper container of sweets at you, motioning for you to take the box from him. However, when you reach for it, he pulls it away.
"However, I still haven't quite forgiven you for not replying to my message. At least mark it with an emoji if you're too angry to respond."
You frown, remembering that you never told him if you were okay when he asked.
"I promise," you agree remorsefully, and he finally hands the package to you.
“Anyway, the problem is resolved,” he continues. He reaches into the package in your hand, pulls out one of the sweets, and holds the confectionary to your mouth. “So, we shouldn't have a repeat incident.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, waiting for him to finish off his snack, which is easy when he’s big enough to shove the whole thing in his mouth and polish it off in a few bites. “Zayne?” you repeat when he still doesn’t answer, choosing to grab another piece.
This time he holds it to your mouth, and you take the hint to eat it. As always, sugar makes you feel better especially when Zayne hands it to you.
“I took it out of my rotation,” he answers, nearly making you choke on the syrupy treat. “I won’t be going there in the future, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Coughing, you beat on your chest to force down the chunk of sachima you inadvertently choked on at his confession.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m the one who’s at fault,” you plead with him, but it doesn't seem to faze him as he chews. “If you like it there, you should go!”
“Why would I want to go somewhere that makes you uncomfortable?” he asks, and your mind thinks it would be obvious. He should have the freedom to eat where he wants but the warmth spreading in your chest manages to find its way to your face that he’d consider that. “Besides, there are still plenty of other spots to choose from that I like.”
“But…you like the strawberry cake from there,” you mumble in an attempt to convince him that it’s fine. Your jealousy shouldn’t dictate where he is allowed to eat. “It’s the best one.”
“Then, you’ll simply have to make me a better one.”
Eyes softening, Zayne smiles at you, small, discreet, something anyone else could miss, but not you on the rare chances that you’re gifted the tender expression; and suddenly, you’re remembering exactly why you get jealous over him, even at hostesses, even when you know he’s the type to avoid things that hurt your feelings.
Flustered, you shake your head. “I don’t know the first thing about baking. There’s no way, I can—”
“I’m sure you’ll succeed. It shouldn’t be too difficult when it’s coming from you.”
You gape at his insistence because out of everything he’s said to you today, this is the one thing where he sounds like he’s serious. You shouldn’t feel so fluttery at the idea that he wants to eat something you’ve made. It’s cliché and you’re much better at shooting a gun than sifting flour—
—and—
“We need to hurry.”
Pulling on his sleeve, you begin to direct him through the crowd. Zayne raises his eyebrows at you but obediently allows you to lead him. “Where are we going?”
“I need to buy strawberries before the fruit stand closes,” you explain and put more strength into dragging the doctor. "Pick up the pace. Do you want that cake or not?"
You do your best to ignore the chuckle you hear from the man behind you.
607 notes · View notes
yoongiseesawmp3 · 8 months
Text
own my mind - san (m)
summary: part of the idol series. idol!san x producer!reader. san hates you, you're sure of it, and the feeling is pretty mutual. are these feelings true, or does he just need to spend some time getting to know you?
word count: 10.6k
warnings: smut. afab reader. oral (f and m receiving) unprotected sex w pull out method, don't do that. recording during sex, don't do that either.
masterlist
"so the practice rooms are down this hall," your new boss explains as he shows you around kq, "and over here are the boys' studios, but your's will be this way..."
you're trying to take it all in and simultaneously remember where all of the confusing hallways lead. kq may not look like much on the outside, but within it's basically a maze. you keep nodding and smiling as you follow your boss around, politely greeting anybody you encounter. he ends by bringing you into a conference room to finalize some paperwork, and after that you're on your own. you're officially the newest producer at kq, and...you have no idea what to do next.
you step out of the conference room and try your hardest to remember which direction leads back to the studios, but you also need coffee. you remember where the kitchen is, so you head that way as you text your friend jen. she recommended you for this job, and she promised she'd say hi on your first day. she's one of the make up artists for ateez, so she's always around, but her schedule is a little more frantic than yours. you understand if she doesn't answer right away, so you send the text and forget about it. you take a moment to yourself in the company kitchen as you try to figure out the coffee machine, letting your thoughts wander.
are you really cut out for this? it's your first day and you already feel overwhelmed. do they expect you to just go into your studio and start producing? what kind of tracks do they have planned for the next album? will the current producers even let you touch anything important, or will you have to prove yourself first? you're thinking about all this and more when someone bursts into the kitchen with a screech.
"Y/N!!!" jen yells as she scoops you into a hug. "you're here! it's finally happening!"
"this isn't very professional," you laugh as you hug her back. "you're helping me make a bad first impression."
"not possible, i've been talking about how great you are for months," she smiles. "they're gonna love you, seriously. i can't wait to hear what you make."
"what if i suck though?" you ask, but jen shakes her head.
"don't do that. no negativity on your first day."
"whatever."
"so what are you doing first?" she asks, taking the coffee you just brewed and having a sip for herself.
"dude, that was mine," you cry, and she hands it back to you with a half assed apology. "um, what am i doing first...well, i got confused on my welcome tour, so i guess i'll wander around until i figure out where my studio is."
"oh i can show you," jen brushes you off. "it's not that confusing, you just need to walk it all a few times. lots of doors, but you'll get the hang of it."
"do you want to make your own coffee, or can you show me around right now?" you ask as you finish doctoring up your mug.
"i can just have another sip of yours," she says as she reaches for it, but you hold it just out of reach as someone else walks in.
"hey jen," hongjoong greets her, his eyes falling to you next. "are you y/n? i've been summoned to help you get started."
"thank god," you sigh in relief. "i wasn't sure what to do, so i appreciate it. it's nice to meet you, finally."
"likewise," he smiles. "i'm a big fan of your work."
"really?" you feel yourself blush. "thank you. you were one of the reasons i started producing, so that means a lot."
"really?" now it's hongjoong's turn to blush. "well, that's...nice."
"great," jen claps her hands, easing over the awkward silence. "you can show y/n her studio and the two of you can keep gushing about how great you both are." she turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. "you're gonna do great things here. be nice to yourself. and uhhh, go team!"
"thanks jen," you laugh as you wave goodbye, following a respectable distance behind hongjoong. he looks back to make sure he hasn't lost you and motions for you to come closer.
"no need to be shy," he tells you. "we'll need to be pretty comfortable with each other considering how close we'll be working together."
"how often will i be working with you?"
"mmm, every day maybe?" he thinks about it. "in the beginning at least. you'll shadow me for a few days to see how the studios run, and then you'll sort of report to me with whatever you're working on. hopefully we won't get tired of each other."
"i don't think that'll be an issue," you assure him. you catch the tips of his ears turning red and you smile to yourself. "so, what makes a good producer here?"
you watch in admiration as hongjoong explains the creativity and collaboration that makes kq work so well, and you kick yourself for getting distracted again. you were supposed to be watching your surroundings, keeping an eye out for where to go to find your studio, but you can't help it. in this moment, it hits you: you get to make music with one of your favorite producers for one of your favorite artists. you must be dreaming, right?
if this is a dream, you're knocked out of it abruptly. while you were watching hongjoong, you weren't watching where you were going, and you walked right into the human equivalent of a brick wall. you spill your coffee everywhere, but don't worry, most of it lands on the most handsome man you've ever seen in your entire life. you're currently staring at choi san, singer of ateez and one of your new coworkers. he's looking down at you, a little bit of shock in his eyes, and you rush to correct the situation.
"oh, shit, i'm sorry," you apologize. you look to hongjoong for help and he's running off to find napkins, leaving you with a very buff man in a soaking wet white t shirt. "i am so so sorry, really, here, let me try to-"
"don't worry about it," san takes a step back. he starts to walk away, but you follow behind him.
"at least let me-"
"i said don't worry about it," he tries again, his tone calm but his eyes tell a different story. he's glaring down at you, which makes your blood boil. he has a right to be mad at you for spilling coffee on him, but why's he pissed at you for trying to help clean him up?
"sure, go drip coffee all down the hallway then," you grumble as you brush past him. "i'll tell hongjoong to follow the trail when he comes back with your napkins."
"fine," san sighs, stopping where he stands. he throws his hands up and asks, "happy?"
"sure."
"who are you anyway?" he mumbles to himself, looking you up and down. you feel his eyes linger, and it makes goosebumps rise over your skin. you take that as a further sign that this guy is getting on your nerves.
"i'm y/n, i'm the new producer," you answer. "nice to meet you."
"you spill coffee on all of your coworkers, y/n?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.
"i said i was sorry-"
"here's hongjoong," san cuts you off. he reaches out for the napkins and smiles at his bandmate. "thanks man."
"so you've met y/n," hongjoong chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "she's really great, we're lucky to have her on the team." san doesn't reply, just nods and sends you a tightlipped smile as he dabs at his ruined t shirt. the fabric is basically translucent now, showing san's tan skin below and the definition of every single muscle. hongjoong clocks the way your eyes are trailing over san's torso and he clears his throat. "um, should we continue our tour?"
"yeah, sorry," you gesture for him to lead the way, and you hold san's gaze as you walk away. he's a dick, you think. that'll be fun.
-
"so is san always an asshole?" you yell over the loud music to jen as you follow her to a table. she insisted on taking you out for drinks to celebrate your first day, and after the morning you had, you need this.
"is he what?!" she shouts back.
"an asshole!"
"san?" she looks at you bewildered. "he's a sweetheart!"
"are we talking about the same guy?"
"are we?" jen questions as she finally pulls you to a table in the back. it's a little quieter back here, so you don't have to shout, but the music will still drown out your conversation so no one can eavesdrop. once you're both settled, she takes a sip of her drink and then, "spill."
"nothing to spill, i just think san is mean and i hate him," you say simply. "i spilled coffee on him, totally an accident, but he was a huge dick about it. wouldn't let me help him, didn't really introduce himself...it all felt off."
"to be fair, i would've been pissed if you had spilled coffee on me when we met," jen points out.
"yeah, but you would've been nicer in the aftermath," you shake your head. "it's whatever. i hopefully won't have to work that closely with him."
"and what about hongjoong?" jen wiggles her eyebrows. "i hear you two hit it off."
"he's nice," you smile shyly. "made my first day a lot easier. he was really patient with all my questions, which helped ease my nerves."
"he's really good at that," jen nods. she goes into a story about her first meeting with hongjoong, and it makes you laugh and endears you to the man more. she tells you stories of the other members, none of whom you met today, but now you're excited to get to know them. "they're all really nice, especially san and yunho. i feel like they're the ones that always check up on everybody-"
"san?"
"yes, your mortal enemy," she rolls her eyes. "he's a good guy, i promise. you just need to make up for the coffee thing and i think you'll be on his good side."
"i'll think about that," you mumble, taking a sip of your drink that almost drains the glass. "so who's this guy you're seeing?"
"whoa, looks like you need another one!" jen deflects. she grabs your glass and runs off to the bar to get another round, leaving you to sit and stew on your own. if san was such a nice guy, why was he only rude to you? it sounds like he isn't mean to other newbies, so it can't be some kind of hazing. whatever dislike he holds for you is personal, and that's making you even angrier. when jen comes back with your new drink she says, "you look mad. what did i miss?"
"can you find out why san hates me?" you ask, and you swear jen would punch you if she could reach across the table.
"he doesn't hate you!! you just made a bad impression! stop making him a villain," she begs you. "man, you're so obsessed with him. maybe someone has a crush?"
"please," you scoff. "just because he has muscles doesn't make up for his shit personality."
"so you like his muscles," jen smirks. "tell him that tomorrow, it'll boost his ego."
"i'm not listening to you anymore."
"but i have so much knowledge to share!" she whines, and you let jen tell you all the do's and don'ts of working at kq as the night goes on. maybe you'll take her advice and try to patch things up with san in the morning. could be worth a shot, right?
-
the next day, you're in one of the bigger studios to help hongjoong with a vocal arrangement. since the last album did so well with the unit songs, you and hongjoong wanted to experiment a little further. you excitedly told hongjoong about your hopes to compose and produce a harmony heavy vocal track, and he was all for it. you worked on the music for it last night, bringing about half of the song to hongjoong for you to play around with today. you both agreed it'd be good to have a guide version ready before you share it with the entire vocal line, so seonghwa offered to help out, too. he's in the booth now as you and hongjoong instruct him from your seats behind the soundboard. he finishes the final layer for the first harmony, and you wait as hongjoong lines it all up. he plays the snippet for you and seonghwa, and you notice both boys are waiting for your reaction.
"that was great, seonghwa," you encourage him. "i really liked it, but..."
"don't be shy," hongjoong nudges you, "he can take it."
"i can," seonghwa agrees. "give it to me straight. did it suck?"
"no, it was really beautiful actually," you assure him. "but for the melody, could you make it more...monotone? that might sound weird, but we're trying to play with the high and low harmony like they're the angel and devil sitting on your shoulder, and for those to stand out the melody needs to be less...captivating."
"you hear that? she thinks your voice is captivating," hongjoong smiles to seonghwa, and he beams at you.
"i get that," he nods. "can i try it another way?"
you help hongjoong reset, and then seonghwa tries another layer in a sadder voice. it's just as powerful, but will be the perfect conduit for the story you're trying to tell. when he finishes, they look to you again and find you smiling proudly.
"that was it," you nod. "great job."
"thanks boss," seonghwa says as he steps out of the booth. "who do you want me to bring in next?"
"you can call san, we'll get him to do the high part and then-"
"san?" you look at hongjoong. "i thought seonghwa was doing the guide vocals."
"well, usually we could do with just one voice, but this song would work best with three distinct voices," hongjoong explains. "i don't think the guys would get it if it's harder to distinguish the different levels, you know?"
"right," you agree, just a little dejected.
"so..." seonghwa trails off. "should i go get him?"
"yeah, tell him to meet us here in ten," hongjoong tells him. seonghwa says his goodbyes and then hoongjoong turns to you. "you alright?"
"i'm good," you reply. "feel a little in over my head, but good."
"you're doing great," hongjoong says, placing his hand over yours on the desk. "it's a lot to jump into, and i'm sorry if it seemed like i was-"
"no, i needed the insight-"
"because i value your opinion-"
"i know that-"
"and-" hongjoong is cut off from finishing his thought because the studio door opens to reveal san. he's wearing another skin tight t shirt, black this time, so even if you spilled another coffee on him it would be harder to notice. he's paired it with a beanie and baggy black pants, and if what you're seeing is correct, he's not wearing any underwear. he stands there staring at you both before his eyes fall to your hand still beneath hongjoong's, and the two of you separate like you've just been shocked.
"i'm not interrupting anything, am i?" san asks suspiciously, and you viciously shake your head as hongjoong tells san to get into the booth. he explains the idea to san and queues up seonghwa's melody as san struggles to put the headphones on over his hat, so you lean into the mic and suggest, "try taking the hat off, maybe?"
"thanks, big help," he says sarcastically. he listens anyway, tossing his beanie away like he's mad at it. "so what am i doing? copying hwa?"
"no," you say sternly. "you're singing the high harmony. we'll layer it over seonghwa's vocals, but your voice needs to be distinct. you can practice if you want-"
"i don't need to practice," san cuts you off, staring daggers at you. "just play it." he keeps his eyes on you as he listens, and you feel nervous. he's listening to your song, your lyrics, and you think you see the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes as seonghwa's voice fades. he doesn't comment on it, just continues staring at you and says, "yeah, got it. you can record this."
"let's listen to it first, and then record the next one," you tell hongjoong, and he nods in agreement. you watch san get ready, and then you hear the most beautiful falsetto flowing over your track. it makes you emotional, and it's another instance of the coolness of your job hitting you. you're so mesmerized you miss san finishing on a bit of a creative note, so the boys are staring, waiting for your input.
"y/n?" hongjoong calls your name. "what'd you think?"
"that was," you clear your throat, "that was perfect, san."
"great," he nods, taking the headphones off, but you stop him.
"ah, we need to record it," you remind him, and you catch his groan through the mic.
"i thought i said to record that one?"
"you don't decide that," you reply, and hongjoong tries to diffuse.
"she has a specific vision for the song, so we wanted to hear you first and then decide if there were any notes before we record you."
"what's the vision?" san asks you, and he listens intently as you explain. when you're done, he takes a deep breath and says clearly into the mic, "that sounds stupid. but i'll do it again. make sure you're recording this time."
"whatever you say, asshole," you mumble, angrily getting the track ready for his bratty voice. you wish you could stay mad at him, but as soon as he starts to sing you're enchanted. again, you get distracted by his voice, the emotion in it and all over his face as he sings, and you think, if he says your idea was stupid, why was he putting so much heart into just a guide vocal? he finishes and you thank him, saving the track quickly before you turn to hongjoong and inform him you need a water break. he's left in the studio with san as he saunters out, but hongjoong meets him at the door.
"what's your problem?" he barks, livid at the way san was treating you during that session.
"uh, you're blocking my exit?" he asks, but that was the wrong thing to say. hongjoong dives into a lecture about respect, and san has to laugh. "oh, you want me to respect the girl who spilled coffee all over me yesterday? who thinks, on her second day, she can tell me how to do my job?"
"she's a producer, her job is to literally tell you what to do-"
"well i'm sorry i hurt your girlfriend's feelings," san spits. "but i did what you asked me to do, so please let me leave." hongjoong steps to the side, still fuming, and san walks out. you catch him in the hall as you return, and you want to stop him, to tell him how great he sounded, but when you lift your hand in greeting he turns the other way and disappears.
-
you get a break from work later that day and find jen making a coffee. she sees you coming and has a cup ready for you to make your own, and you catch up on your days as your coffee brews. you tell her about san's lovely time with you in the studio, and jen listens, but when you finish she asks, "and he was still like this after you said you liked his muscles?"
"i'm not telling him that," you mumble.
"telling who what?" wooyoung asks as he pops around the corner.
"mind your business?" jen replies. "have you met y/n yet? she's the new producer."
"no, but i've heard mixed reviews," wooyoung says as he dramatically shakes your hand. "can't wait to decide which side i'm on."
"there's sides?" you ask nervously.
"yep," he says with a pop on the p. "hongjoong and seonghwa worship the ground you walk on. san hates your guts, although i'm not sure why. you seem lovely."
"she is lovely," jen points out.
"hm," wooyoung squints playfully. "guess we'll have to wait and see."
"what about innocent until proven guilty?" you ask. "just assume you'll like me and then you will!"
"yeah, but san is a good judge of character," wooyoung shakes his head. "if he doesn't like you, then he's got a reason."
"is the reason because he's maleficent?"
"oo, maleficent, i like that," wooyoung coos. he turns to jen and asks, "why don't you use big words like that?"
"i'm afraid you wouldn't get them," she sighs.
"try me, i'm full of surprises baby," he winks at her before smacking her ass and walking away. you watch in confusion, and she waves it off.
"don't worry, he does that sometimes."
"to everybody?!"
"just to me," she shrugs, and then it clicks.
"he's your fling," you smile. "very nice."
"nuh uh."
"no, he totally is. that's elmo," you piece it together. "is that his nickname because of his laugh?"
"you were never supposed to meet him," jen defends herself.
"so getting me a job here wouldn't interfere with that?"
"i figured i could keep it a secret," she pouts.
"you did! for a whopping 36 hours, good job!"
"don't patronize me," she complains. "i could call san and have him here in seconds-"
"oh man, i need to go record something," you frown, "maybe you two could talk though? figure out why he's got an all burning hatred for me, an angel?"
"i'll get to the bottom of it," jen says, and you realize the error you've just made.
"wait, no, don't talk to him, please," you beg.
"too late, you've asked for my help, so i'll help," jen concedes easily. "he'll either love you or simply tolerate you by the end of the week, i promise."
"great, thanks..."
-
you've made it through your first week, yippee! you really like it here, you fit in well with the members, and the producers seem to really like your ideas. the only problem is san. you enter a room that he's in and it goes quiet. he passes you in the hall, and you're fuming for the rest of the day. everyone knows about your little rivalry at this point, but no one understands where it came from. even jen, who was determined to make you and san best friends, has lost hope.
you're able to make it a couple days without any more san run ins, and for that you are grateful. you and hongjoong have made a lot of progress on the vocal line track, and he's invited you to a few writing sessions with mingi for the rap line track. you're feeling invincible after one of those sessions, walking back to your studio, when you get the scare of your life. you enter the code to your studio, guard completely down, and jump out of your skin when you see someone sitting at your desk.
"what the fuck?!" you shriek, using the door as a shield. you peek around it and see that it's not an intruder. well, at least not one that wants to hurt you. maybe. it's san, so this interaction could go in any direction.
"hello," he says simply. "nice way to greet your guest."
"how'd you get into my studio?" you ask as you close the door. you wonder if you should keep it cracked open, just in case you and san get into it and you need a witness that he probably started it.
"i needed to ask you a question," san responds instead, and you cock your head in confusion. "i can't do that?"
"i don't know, can you?"
"your song. the vocal one. how's it going?"
you're surprised this is what he wanted to talk about but, honestly, what else were you expecting? this is a normal work interaction, you think. you're just not used to having those with san. since san is sitting in your desk chair, you pull your stool over to the desk pathetically and perch on top of it as you shoot san a glare.
"can you move over? i need to get to my keyboard."
"aw, can't reach over my muscles?" san teases, and you feel your blood run cold.
"what?"
"my muscles? little birdie told me you liked them."
"what are you doing in my studio, san."
"i wanted to hear your song," he shrugs. you wait for him to move out of the way, but apparently that's not happening. you grumble as you lean over him and type, pulling the project file up on your screen. you check the volume before you hit play and look back to see san watching you intently. he's close, your arms brushing and his head only a few inches from yours. you hold his gaze for a second and then hit play, sitting back as you watch him listen. you can't read his expression as the song plays, but you don't care what he has to say. you love this song, and you think it's turning out great. whatever he has to say isn't important to you-
"wow," he whistles. "i get it now."
"get what?"
"why you're so pretentious about your work," san smirks as he side eyes you.
"is that supposed to be an insult?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.
"not really," he shakes his head.
"well it's not a compliment," you tell him.
"i'll work on that," he says as he stands. he puts his hands on your desk to support himself as he rises, and you swear to god, he's flexing his arms a ridiculous amount. nobody needs that much upper body strength just to get out of a rolley chair.
"hey!" you call as he walks away. "what the hell?"
"do you have to curse all the time?" san asks with look of distaste. "it's not very polite."
"nor are you."
"nice," he nods. "well, i'll be around-"
"no, wait, why'd you come in here?" you ask as you follow him out of your studio. "you just wanted to listen to the song?"
"yeah?" he shrugs, turning to face you in the hallway. he's standing so close you have to lean back to look at him properly, and you frown.
"i don't believe you."
"why not?" san smirks. "you wanted me in your studio for another reason?"
"no-"
"you're not the only one who likes to stare, doll," he says quietly, leaning down so his ears are just barely brushing your ear. he straightens back up before you can melt into a puddle on the floor, and then he smiles what might be his first genuine smile in your presence. "so maybe i didn't just come here for the song. but now i've heard it, and i know don't hate it, so i think we're done here."
and with that very confusing information, san walks away.
-
san is tired. he's been practicing for their seoul concert since the early hours of the morning, and he needs a break. it's almost an acceptable time to eat lunch, so he grabs his things and starts the short walk to his favorite convenience store. he likes this one because it's got a seating area in the back where he can eat, giving him some time to himself. it's secluded enough he doesn't have to worry about being bothered, but it has a good view of the street outside so he can people watch. it's the perfect spot for him to rest and enjoy his food, so he leaves the company with a pep in his step.
he grabs all of his favorites, moving on autopilot, and pays for them quickly. he takes everything back to his usual table and prepares his feast. now that he's stopped working, he feels the tiredness in his bones and realizes how hungry he actually was. when did he eat last? was it dinner? that was more than twelve hours ago, so maybe he can get away with eating another ramen before he goes...
san is considering whether or not he should get up and grab more food as he stares through the store window. there's people rushing to work, couples going to lunch, families wrangling kids. he watches with a smile as one family, a mother and father, try to handle what looks like a girl and two twins. that job is way harder than anything he's doing as an idol, he thinks. he watches fondly as they walk away, and when he turns back, his smile falls.
you and hongjoong are crossing the street, engaged in some conversation that's making you both laugh. you make a joke that sends a laugh crashing up from within hongjoong's chest, and san scoffs as he watches you stare in admiration. hongjoong rushes forward and opens the door to the convenience store for you, and san hears the end of your sentence as you enter.
"-didn't have to do that," san catches, and he hears hongjoong make a dismissive sound in response. "wow, there's a lot of food here."
"you see why we like this place so much," hongjoong responds. san can't see you, but your voices are getting closer. "there's something for everyone."
"there's so much, i don't know what to pick..." you trail off.
"get whatever you want," hongjoong says. "it's on me."
"what? no-"
"ah ah, no arguments. consider it a welcome gift."
"well thank you," san hears you squeak, and he can just imagine the way you must be blushing, looking at hongjoong so shyly, pretending to be coy-
"oh, hey san," hongjoong greets. you come to a stop behind him, bumping into his back, and san has to laugh. "didn't know you were here."
"didn't tell anyone i was leaving," san shrugs. he leans over, trying to catch your eye, and waves. "hi y/n."
"hi san."
"are you eating here?" san asks, and hongjoong shakes his head.
"ah, no, we were just taking a break," he replies. "i was going to buy us lunch and then we're gonna head back."
"got it," san nods, still looking at you. "carry on then."
"thanks for your permission," you mumble, holding onto the back of hongjoong's shirt as he turns you down another aisle. he starts looking for a snack he wants you try, but he can't see it. he looks up, eyes flitting around the store, and his face lights up.
"oh! it's over there! be right back!" he runs off, and you continue scanning the shelves. you're not that hungry, but you know you won't have time to leave again, so you need to get enough food for lunch and dinner probably. you're reading the ingredients on one of the prepackaged meals when you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see san looming above, and you jump.
"shit," you hiss. "wear a bell."
"need help pronouncing the big words?" he asks.
"yeah, come closer and let me show you."
"you having fun?" san sneers, and your confused expression makes him clarify, "with your boyfriend."
"what?"
"oh come on, letting him buy your lunch, holding onto him like that...you're eating it up, aren't you?"
"i don't know what you mean," you say as you step around san, but your face is red. he's getting to you.
"it's cute, really," he says, beating you to the end of the aisle. he puts his arm out, effectively blocking your way, and he continues staring down at you in that frustrating way of his. like he wants to swallow you whole. "how long do you think it'll last?"
"if you're asking about my patience i'm afraid that ship sailed a while ago," you try to fight back, but san just laughs.
"you're cute, you know? you try to be so tough, but it doesn't work. i see right through you."
"and what do you see?" you ask as you cross your arms. san bares his teeth, ready to quip back, but his eyes catch on something behind you. you look over your shoulder and see hongjoong holding up a bag, a confused look in his eyes.
"found the sweet potatoes," he says as he approaches. "what are you doing?"
"getting to know our coworker," san says nonchalantly, removing himself from your personal space. "i'll let you go. my food's getting cold."
"sure," hongjoong says skeptically, reaching for you. he tries to guide you away with his hand at your back, but you can feel san's eyes still on you. you turn and his hand politely falls away, but san's eyes follow you through the rest of the store. he gets an idea when you go back to the drink coolers, so san finishes his food quickly and heads to the front.
when you and hongjoong are finally ready to pay, you go to the register and hongjoong reaches for his wallet. the woman behind the counter shakes her head, showing a stack of bills to tell you it's been taken care of. you look around and find san halfway out the door, a wicked smile on his face. he waves at you teasingly before the door dings closed, and hongoong happily takes the food, babbling about how nice san is as you leave.
-
later that day, the boys are getting fitted for their tour outfits. each practice room has been converted into a walk in closet + vanity combo, so you peek your head in to see how it's going. jen spots you and waves you over to her station, and you duck through the racks of clothes to say hi to your friend. you're taken aback when you see who she's working on, but jen laughs and assures you it's ok.
"he won't bite, he's asleep," she says about the pouting san she's working on currently. "he was here all night, apparently. he knocked out before i could even say hi."
"are you sure he's asleep and not faking it?" you ask as you tentatively sit in the chair next to him. it's enough distance away that you're not concerned by the proximity, but you keep an eye on him as you talk. "maybe he doesn't want to talk."
"hey, san likes me, so i know he's not faking it," jen tells you. "he and i get along really well."
"congratulations," you mumble as you reach for a makeup brush to play with. "so how was your day?"
you and jen catch up as she works on san, periodically asking for your opinion on the look she's created for him. you know she's trying to get you to say something nice about him, to slip up and call him handsome or sexy, but you won't budge. all the compliments you give are very makeup forward, but she won't let up. she's also not being gentle in her application, so you really are afraid san is awake and listening. she's almost done with him when wooyoung walks up, greeting you happily.
"hey y/n!" he chirps. "nice to see you! you're in my seat."
"oh, my bad," you scramble to get up. you got comfortable, your feet propped on one of the giant makeup cases before you. jen puts a hand out to stop you, turning to wooyoung with a trying-to-be-stern look in her eyes.
"my friend and i are not done talking."
"well your boss told me to come over here and get my makeup done, so unless you want me to stand..." wooyoung trails off as jen finishes with san's face. she turns to him and nods.
"standing is fine," she says, quickly getting to work on wooyoung's base layer. "i'll work fast so you don't have to stand long."
"but then i don't get to bug you as long," wooyoung whines.
"life's cruel like that, huh?"
"come on, i know i'm your favorite part of this job," wooyoung teases, and you share a silent laugh with him as jen blushes profusely. once wooyoung catches your eye, his attention turns to you, and he asks, "what about you, y/n? now that you've been here a few days, what's your favorite part of this job?"
"san's abs," jen answers for you, and you try your best to kick her. you accidentally nudge san's chair and freeze, but he doesn't stir.
"oh yeah? let's tell him-"
"no!" you shout, and if he wasn't awake now he definitely is. he still doesn't move, but you continue in a softer voice, "um, no. don't do that. uhh, my favorite part of the job...i don't wanna be a kiss ass, but it's probably working with hongjoong."
"of course it is," san mumbles, and even though he spoke quietly it makes you jump. he opens his eyes and your skin sets fire as soon as he looks at you. "you're in wooyoung's chair."
"he's having jen time," you counter. "let him enjoy it."
"yeah, let me enjoy it!" wooyoung agrees.
"san, what do you think of the eye makeup i did? tried something new," jen says as she focuses on wooyoung's eyes now. san sits up and looks in the mirror, but he's not looking at himself. he's watching you pretend like a strand on your sweater is the most interesting thing in the world, so he decides to call your attention.
"y/n? what do you think?" san asks, and you meet his gaze through the mirror. you're shocked to realize he's checking you out, blatantly, your cardigan falling off your shoulder to reveal your bra underneath. you were in a rush this morning and thought that would be enough. surely no one would notice you weren't wearing a tank, since this bra could pass as long as your sweater stayed up. but right now it's not, so san can see an entire cup, and he's almost drooling. instead of answering his question you look over at jen and repeat your earlier compliments as you pull your sweater tight around your torso.
"yeah, it looks good," you say again. "now that he's awake and you can see his eyes, you did a good job, uh, highlighting them."
"eloquent," san chides, and this time you intentionally kick his chair. he grabs your ankle before you can pull back, and tugs, bringing you closer.
"big word," wooyoung whispers, and you can hear jen smack him as you lift your eyes to san's. he's looking at you with that hungry gaze you're coming to get used to, and he rewords his question.
"what do you like about it specifically?" he tries as he leans in, and you hold your breath as you stare. this is closer than you've ever been, and you can smell hints of cologne that have your head spinning. alarms are going off in your head to run, but with san's hand still on your leg, you're trapped.
"you drool in your sleep, you know that?" you decide to say, ignoring his question completely. he's surprised enough that his grip on you loosens and you're able to bolt from the chair, grabbing your things as you say a quick goodbye to jen and wooyoung. they're watching on, amused with your little show, and when you're fully out of the room san collapses back into the chair with a groan.
"she's right," jen says. "i had to get napkins to mop up your spit."
"sorry," san grumbles.
"when are you gonna tell her?" wooyoung asks, and san makes a confused sound to encourage him to explain. "y/n. when are you gonna say that you're into her?"
"i'm not into her," san rolls his eyes.
"yeah, right," wooyoung laughs. "and me and jen aren't fucking."
"hey!" and another smack. they continue bickering as san stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes falling to the chair you just occupied.
-
the next few days, you spend a lot of time in your studio. too much maybe, but you need to get this vocal track finished. all the boys have recorded their parts, and now it's down to you to get the final mix to the other producers by monday. it's friday now, and you know you can't pull any all nighters this weekend - the boys want you to come to their shows, so you'd like to be finished with the track before you leave today.
it's weird, being here so late at night. you think you're the last one left, hongjoong left with the rest of the members and the producers started trickling out about two hours ago. you don't mind being here on your own, you know the security is fine, but it's still eerie. when you got another coffee just now, you caught yourself jumping at the slightest sounds. you could've sworn you heard footsteps following you, but after investigating you realized it was the sound of your own that scared you. you hunker down for another spell in your studio, and you get a lot closer to the product you want. hongjoong kept telling you it didn't need to be perfect, it still had to go through critiques so it would probably change a lot, but you can't let your first project here be a mess. it at least needs to meet your standards, so you keep working.
you're not sure how much later it is, but you wake yourself when your head falls off your propped up arm. you fell asleep listening to the final track, wanting to check for any mistakes, so you don't know how long it's been looping while you slept. you listen through one last time, almost satisfied, but you hear something that sounds off. you try another listen, and realize it's not coming from your speakers, it's coming from somewhere else.
heart racing, you press your ear to the door of your studio and curse the sound proofing. you can make out a noise, but not enough to figure out what it is from the safety of this room. you look around for a weapon, something to protect you, and all you see are stray wires. you find one long enough and wrap it around your fists, pulling the wire taught between them. worst case scenario you garrote the intruder and then call for help, but you're being dramatic. whatever is out there can't be a threat, can it?
you open your studio door and follow the sound. in your tired state, you recognize a song, but you can't place it or where it's coming from. you tiptoe down the hall toward the practice rooms, and spy light coming from a door at the end of the hall. so it must be one of the members, you think. or maybe the bb trippin guys came early to prep for the show. whatever it is, you keep walking, aware now that the song you heard is wake up, one of your favorites. the boys were cryptic about the setlist, wanting it to be a surprise for you this weekend, but you get excited at the thought of what kind of mystical performance they could do for this song. when you reach the door, you stop cold, seeing maybe the last person you expected it to be.
san is dancing, quite sexually, to the music bumping through the speakers. he's in baggy sweats and a tank top that shows off his figure and his ridiculously chiseled muscles, and you can't help it. you stare, watching in awe as he drops it low and grinds around to a song you never expected to be portrayed like this. as he's on the ground, a tie hanging from his teeth, his eyes flick to yours through the mirror. you gasp, and he smirks, somehow able to catch the sound of your breath hitching over the loud music. he feels proud of himself, knowing he's got you so shocked, but when he finishes the portion he's working on, he looks to the mirror and you're gone.
you're rushing down the hall back to your studio. what the fuck was that. you had a physical reaction to san, and not a good one. and he saw you! that's humiliating, you'll never be able to look at him again-
"where ya goin doll?" his deep voice asks. he's right behind you, and before you can sprint off to your studio, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the nearest door. when you come face to face, he's breathing heavy, and you assume that's because of the intense choreography he just worked through. little do you know, being this close to you, smelling that annoying perfume that follows you around, touching you, all of this is taking his breath away. his hands trail down your shoulders to your hands, and he looks at you quizzically when he finds the wire wrapped tightly in your fists. "what's this?"
"i, uh, i thought i was the only one here? so when i heard something i looked for uh. i wanted something to protect myself with," you explain, embarrassed by how dramatic that sounds.
"you're a badass," san chuckles, lifting your hands by the wire hanging between them.
"i thought cursing wasn't polite," you remind him of his own words, and he laughs again.
"i just said that to piss you off."
"you're insufferable," you groan, trying to twist away from the man in front of you.
"and you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you?" he smiles at you evilly. "can't get away, little kitten?"
"let go of me, san," you say steadily, but he just keeps smiling.
"why would i? i've finally got you right where i want you."
"what?" you breathe out.
"you couldn't tell? i've wanted you since i laid eyes on you."
"wanted me?" you scoff. "i'm not a steak."
"but you went and spilled that coffee on me, and then you were so delightful during our recording session, i just kept falling harder and harder for you," he teases.
"you're shit at showing how you feel."
"and you're shit at hiding how you feel," he smirks. "i know you want me, doll. that's why i acted the way i did. it was fun messing with you, letting you think i hated you. wanted to see how far i could push it."
"that's so middle school of you san," you complain, pushing your finger into his chest. "if you were a real man you would've done something about this already instead of playing a bunch of games."
"if i was a real man?" he chuckles lowly, and he's so close you feel it in your stomach. "baby, you haven't been with a real man til you've been with me."
"prove it," you whisper, but your breath gets caught as san pulls your hands above your head by the wire still wrapped around them. he holds your wrists in place as his other hand squeezes your waist, and he watches you squirm with glee in his eyes.
"prove it? you sure you can handle me doll?"
"do your your worst," you smirk, and then he's crashing his lips to yours. the kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, and you gasp as his hand travels up your waist and beneath your shirt. he traces the skin beneath your hoodie, smirking into your lips when he discovers you're not wearing a bra.
"i like it when you make things easy for me," he breathes out against your neck, his lips making their way across your skin and leaving little marks as he pleases. his hand beneath your shirt traces beneath each breast before leaving a featherlight trail to your nipple, and he surprises you with a quick pinch. you gasp again, giving him a chance to return his lips to your mouth and press his tongue past your lips. he kisses you one last time before pulling from your lips, asking, "should we take this inside?"
"wha?" you murmur, twisting to look at the door behind you. "but, san, this isn't my studio-"
"i know, it's hongjoong's," he says as he punches the code in. "he won't mind."
"i do!" you squeak out as san opens the door and pushes you inside. "san, seriously, we're not having sex in here!"
"we're having sex?" san teases, and you use your newly released hands to beat against his chest. "take that stupid wire off, baby. you're gonna need your hands."
"for what?" you grumble, listening to him anyway. when your hands are free, you notice the little indents left from the wire, and san surprises you by taking your hands into his softly. his thumb rubs over the raw skin, and he stares darkly at you as he lifts your hands to his lips. he kisses over the sore spots and up your wrists, whining cutely when he hits the fabric of your shirt.
"take this off," he tugs on your sleeve, and you shake your head.
"only if you take your shirt off too," you counter, and he easily lets go of you to remove his tank top. you hate the way you're staring, but you can't help it. he's beautiful, and you're mesmerized. he calls your name, the first time he's said it all night, and you find his eyes staring at you softly. "right, sorry," you mumble, pulling your hoodie off, not so accidentally catching it on your tits so they release with a bounce. san groans as he watches on, and then his hands are on you again, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. you moan softly, reaching for his head to pull him into another kiss. your hands wrap around to his neck, one sweeping down to feel his soft, sweaty skin. you trace over the muscles in his chest, the lines of his abs, and end at his waistband. his hand reaches down to stop you before you can continue, and he pulls back to ask, "do you trust me?"
"do i trust you? not completely," you answer honestly. "maybe you don't hate me as much as you made me believe, but i still think you're despicable."
"if i'm so despicable why are you letting me use you like a toy?" he jokes, pushing you down into hongjoong's desk chair. "if you trust me, i want you to do something for me. if you don't, tell me to shut up, and we'll go back to having sex. but it'll be more boring that way."
"can i get that in writing, you saying that sex with you is boring?" you tease, and san growls as he captures your lips in another kiss. he's caging you in, and when he releases your lips, he leans his forehead against yours as he speaks.
"start a new file on his computer," san says lowly. "and hit record when i say."
"you're kidding."
"like i said, do it if you trust me," he shrugs, his hands moving from the armrests to your waist. he starts tugging your pants down as he continues. "if you don't trust me, then we just fuck like normal and go on with our lives."
"san, i-"
"are you gonna make the file?" he asks, kneeling in front of you. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but then you're moving without thinking. you twist in his hold, punching in hongjoong's password and finding the mixing app. you start a new project, label it inconspicuously, and then settle back in the chair. san is looking at you proudly, and he praises you, "good girl."
"what now?" you ask quietly, and san separates your legs further. he starts kissing up your leg, starting at your knee, and when he gets to your panties, he whispers, "i make you come."
he pulls yours panties down then, hissing as he watches your arousal cling to the fabric, and he smiles. "oh, she's pretty."
"i didn't know you were capable of giving me a compliment," you quip, and san bites your thigh to shut you up.
"wasn't talking to you," he says against your skin, leaving kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your core. he brings his hands up to spread you open for him, and he stares in admiration at how wet you are, just for him. he leans in and you wait to feel his lips, his tongue, something, but instead you feel something wet land on your clit. san spit on your pussy, and he brings his hand up to rub the sensitive spot as he blows on your entrance.
"i thought you said you were gonna make me come," you whine, and he nods.
"i will. when i want to."
"san-" you whimper, lifting your hips as he continues playing with your clit and neglecting the rest of you.
"you want more doll?" he asks, his eyes staring at you darkly. you look down at him and nod, but he pinches your thigh in response. "words, baby."
"want more, san," you groan. "need your tongue."
"hit record and i'll give you what you want," he smirks below you, and you're so horny you can't even think about fighting back. you turn around and press record, san's lips finding your clit immediately. he licks over the bundle of nerves, prodding a finger at your entrance as he listens to your sweet moans. he fucks his finger into you once, twice, then adds another. you whine above him, your hands catching on his hair as you try to push him closer. he licks up every drop of you, fucking you on his fingers, and moans into your pussy for good measure. the vibration seends you reeling, and you whisper out, "fuck, san."
"who?"
"san, fuck! feels so good."
"yeah? you wanna come?" he asks, leaning his head on your thigh as he stares at you writhing above him. you're watching him with hooded eyes as he adds another finger, fucking you open for him. you lift your hips again, trying to make him move faster. "d'you still hate me, doll?"
"no," you whisper shyly, and he smiles.
"say it louder."
"i don't hate you," you moan out, his fingers scissoring you open as his lips return to your clit. he sucks harshly, and you let out a whine that turns into a frustrated scream. "faster."
"hm?"
"faster, please," you beg, "please, please, fuck. 'm gonna come."
"let me hear you, baby," he mumbles into your core. "who's making you feel so good?"
"san, you, fuck-" your voice tapers off as you hold your breath and crash into your release. you're clenching around san so deliciously, he groans into your clit and does his best to help you ride out your high. you're trying to catch your breath as. san cleans you up, slurping obscenely, and in your post-nut clarity you realize what you've done. you turn around, frantically trying to stop the recording, but san stands above you and catches your hands again.
"what are you doing?" he growls, and you blubber out a response.
"he can't, we can't, i have to delete it, i'm not-"
"not what? not enjoying yourself?" san asks. "because i'm looking at a dripping pussy that tells a different story."
"we need to go somewhere else," you hiss, and san shakes his head.
"i think we're doing fine right here," he smirks, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you bite his bottom lip as he tries to pull away, and he groans.
"is it my turn now?" you ask, and you watch fire spark across san's eyes.
"your turn to what, baby?"
"drive you insane?" you ask innocently, pushing san away so you can stand. you keep pushing him until he hits the wall, and you drop to your knees. you waste no time pulling his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. you look up at him and ask, "you makin things easy for me, babe?"
"no," he smirks down at you. "bet you can't even fit it in your mouth."
"you're full of yourself," you point out as you spit into your hand. you bring it to his cock, stroking over his soft skin. "you liked eating me out this much?"
"it wasn't bad," san nods. "wouldn't mind doing it again."
"maybe later," you mumble, bringing his tip to your lips. you spit again, watching as it dribbles down his shaft, you stroke him a few more times, flicking your tongue over his tip teasingly. he's trying so hard not to lose it above you, and the way he's biting his lip to keep quiet pisses you off. without warning, you swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you try to fit him all in your mouth. he cries out above you, his hands tangling in your hair. he pulls you off of him completely, gasping for breath above you. "hey. i wasn't done."
"not gonna last," he says shyly, and you feel your ego grow ten sizes. "need to fuck you."
"eh, i'm getting tired-"
"shut up," he growls, pulling you up by your hair and slamming his lips into yours again. "go bend over his desk."
"you're sick," you tell him, obeying anyway.
"you're into it," san says cockily, adjusting your hips as he comes up behind you. "make sure you're right up to the mic, doll. wanna hear this." you hate yourself for it, but you find the mic in front of you and pull it closer. you feel his hands on your ass, pulling you apart as he stares at your pussy again. "so pretty for me," he sighs, removing a hand to bring his cock to your entrance. he teases your hole a few times, laughing when you jerk back and try to catch his tip. "impatient girl."
"just fuck me," you say clearly, and he responds by giving you exactly what you want. he thrusts into you, splitting you open, and you moan so loud it's embarrassing. san stays still, giving you a minute to adjust, but you start fucking back into him, and he gets the hint. he grabs onto your ass again, and then he's fucking into with no control. your mouth hangs open as he fucks you hard and fast, and san frowns. he smacks your ass and feels you clench around him as he barks, "lemme hear you." so you moan, and whine, and altogether let go. you're a babbling mess, mumbling incoherently about how good it feels, how he fucks you just right, how his cock is perfect, you can't stop. san is eating it up, fucking into you so deep you can feel him in your gut.
too soon, he's pulling out, and you let out a pathetic cry. san pulls you up by your hips, his hands smoothing over your skin, as he explains, "wanna watch you when you come." he helps you sit on hongjoong's desk, lifting your legs up so you're completely exposed to him. he holds your thighs open and tries to fuck back into you, but you have to help him, taking his wet cock and guiding it back to your entrance. he thrusts into you, slotting his hips against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. he should've fucked you like this the whole time, he thinks, because he can't stop staring. you look so perfect, so blissed out, and it spurs him on. he holds one thigh down as his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.
"i'm gonna come, baby," he warns. "where do you want it?"
"my stomach," you gasp out. "wanna see it."
"fuck, you're insane."
"don't slow down," you whine, holding onto san's broad shoulders like your life depends on it. you let him fuck you senseless, clenching around him as you get closer. he brings his hand around to rub his thumb over your clit, and you jerk away in sensitivity. "can't take it, san, gonna come-"
"then come for me," he begs. "need you to come first."
"fuck, san, fuck," you gasp, digging into his shoulders as you hold him in place. you clench around him until he can't take it anymore, and he pulls out, his forehead against yours as you watch him stroke himself. he comes quickly, painting your skin, and you moan breathlessly as you watch him empty himself over you. "fuck, that's hot."
"we should do that again," san smirks at you, and you playfully push against his chest. you leave your hands on him as you respond, "not now. i'm exhausted."
"how long have you been here?" san asks, sudden concern in his voice.
"too long," you sigh, noticing how raw your throat feels. you cough, your back bumping into the mic behind you. "oh shit. i need to turn this off." you look at san as you crouch down, saving the file and sending it to yourself. "what the hell am i supposed to do with this?"
"listen to it when you get lonely?" san jokes, and you push him. "use it in a song, maybe?"
"that would get me fired," you inform him, making sure you've deleted all traces of it from hongjoong's computer. satisfied, you turn to san and cross your arms over your chest. "was this your plan all along? you get me to record a salacious audio and then blackmail me with it?"
"you still think i hate you?" he asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. "bummer. thought we'd moved past that after your first orgasm."
"i'm just saying, if this was an elaborate plan to get me to leave, i commend the effort-"
"y/n," he says softly, and you meet his eyes. they're serious for once, which is odd. "i don't hate you, and i don't want to get you fired."
"good to know," you squeak. his gaze is too intense for you, so you start looking for your clothes and then remember the mess on your stomach. "oh, yuck-"
"here, let me clean you up," san says, searching for tissues. he holds onto you carefully as he wipes up his release, pulling a few extra tissues to clean the mess between your legs.
"see, if you'd just let me help you like this on my first day, we wouldn't have been mortal enemies for so long," you joke.
"yeah, but we wouldn't have fucked like that if i had been nice to you from the start."
"so what now?" you ask as you get dressed. "you said you wanna do that again?"
"don't you?" san asks, his pants halfway up his legs. you unashamedly stare at his cock before you respond, but he's got his answer.
"i mean, if you want-"
"i do," he interjects. "whenever you want me. i'll be there."
"is this what everyone means, when they say you're so nice?" you ask genuinely. san comes over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist before he kisses you.
"guess you'll have to find out, huh?"
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