#idol x gn reader

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest - Day 12

Pairing: Mingi x gn!Reader Prompt: Nipple Play WC: 1k Summary: Mingi loves being your boyfriend, except when the latest expansion releases for your favorite game. All he wants is some attention and maybe for you to come to bed. TW/CW: Implied consent, dom(ish) Mingi, Mingi is a brat, denied orgasm (reader), nipple play (reader receiving), no sex defining genitalia mentioned

Mingi sat on the couch, legs stretched long, propped against the armrest with his eyes scanning a manga. He was comfy. Ostensibly, it was a perfect night in for him. Except for you. You sat in your gaming chair at your desk, totally absorbed in the gaming you’d been playing for the past week.  Normally, he loved your hobby, it was nice having a nerd for a partner. There’s a lot of things about being a nerd that you just don’t have to explain if your partner is also a nerd. Tonight though, he was lonely. Mingi wouldn’t have minded it as much if you’d even been coming to bed at a normal hour with him for your nightly cuddle session. But you hadn’t. You’d stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning, leaving a cold space next to him. “Are you going to come to bed with me tonight?” Mingi pokes his head up over the black and white pages of his book, asking with a hopeful lilt. “Uh, yeah. I will,” you answer, eyes glazed over, reflection of your character prominent in your bluelight glasses. He knows the answer is automatic, on autopilot, in one ear out of the other. It annoys him. “So if I say i’m going to be now-” he says slowly, skeptically, “-you’d come too?” “Yeah. Sure.” Again you answer without tearing your eyes from your precious monitor. “Okay well I’m going to bed then, are you coming?” “Sorry I just have to get back to the hub city, then I can.” It’s a lie he’s heard every night. An easy small lie. But he’s just so tired of hearing it. Circling your chair he hovers. He knows you hate hovering but he does it anyway. The pressure of his presence makes the back of your neck tense. “How close are you to stopping?” He places his hands on your shoulders, squeezing slightly. “I don’t know Mingi.” He leans on the top of your chair, rocking it upright. “Do you mind if I just…watch you?” You sigh heavily. “Okay but only if you massage my neck.” “Deal.”

Starting at the base of your head where your skull and spine meet he drags his thumbs down, warming up your stiff muscles. In long light strokes his hands glide over your shoulders, layers of tension falling off with each sweep. Slowly Mingi notices your character bumping into corners of scenery briefly, your head nodding forward with even the slightest pressure. You moan as he presses just a bit harder on a difficult knot in the side of your neck, tendon twanging as he rubs circles into it. “Feels so good,” you sound drunk, slurring your words together dreamily. You whole torso sways with his motions, eyes closing.

“Come to bed,” Mingi whispers in your ear, pausing briefly. “No, I just have one more- one more thing i gotta do.” You sit back upright in your chair, reapplying your concentration to the task at hand. With a sigh Mingi starts to withdraw from your side, “I guess I’ll go first-” “Wait! Can you continue?” You look at him, pleading. “To make sure I actually go to bed, please?” Mingi sighs and nods, returning behind you, hands resting with his fingertips just barely  brushing your collar bone. This time he lets his hands wander more to the side and front of your neck. To give a balanced massage of course. Gently pinching the upper trapezius, he watches your posture soften once more. You lean with each push and pull up and down the column of your neck, letting out small airy whines of appreciation. 

He knows it’s a devious plan but Mingi want attention. And what Mingi wants, Mingi will find a way to get. Unfortunately for you, he knows your weakness because he shares it. Your chest. Slowly his fingertips circle their way down to your upper chest muscles. Pressing all four fingers of each hand on either side and rubbing in large languid circles you moan and melt. “Mingi, don’t stop, that feels so good,” your eyes closed, you lean back into your chair, chin tilted up towards him. “Does it?” He coos. “Does it feel good?” Hands sliding a little lower, to brush over your sternum, you sigh. “Yeah. So good.” “How about this?” Palms on your chest his fingers brush over your nipples, barely concealed by your shirt. The small gesture tingles, curling your toes, your breath catching briefly. He teases with butterfly touches flitting over your chest, tickling and sparking your nerve endings. Back arching into his touch you’re still desperate to complete your objective, wrenching your eyelids open and eyes to focus by sheer force of will. Your breaths become louder, lips pressing thinner. Mingi smiles, it’s his revenge.

Cupping your chest his thumbs trace the outside of your pebbling nipples, imprint growing quickly obvious in your comfy clothing. He delights in the fraught expression that crosses your face, the moan barely muffled by your pinched mouth. Grabbing handfuls of your flesh he kneads your chest, gasping with you as your body moves with him. “Mingi!” “What?” He asks, tone flirtatious. Barely faking that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. The pads of his thumbs flick up and down, your thighs pressing together as the fire in your core builds from a flicker to flame almost too large to ignore. “I have to. I have to finish,” you breathlessly insist, eyelids fluttering, fingers clenching your mouse. “Of course, of course you have to.” He coos, pulling your shirt up and tucking it under your arms.  “Don’t mind me at all.” Crouching down next to you he cups your chest with one hand, flicking his tongue quickly over your pebbled nipple, testing your resolve. Huffing the flame turns to a full blaze, unable to relieve the pressure mounting in your core. “Mingi, please,” you beg quietly. “Finish your ‘one last thing’, I can wait.” That’s how you know you’ve fucked up. Mingis lips wrap around your pert nipple, sucking harshly, releasing with a pop. White knuckling your keyboard and mouth he lashes an all out attack on your chest. Lashing his tongue over one nipple as his hand pinches and twists the other. You writhe in your chair unable to find solace for your aching core, chest practically pinned back in your seat. “Mingi, I can’t, I can’t, please, I can’t,” you tremble and twist. “I can’t finish-I can’t finish like this.” He smiles. “Then come to bed.”

It’s a short one! Sorry. This one's for all the gamers out there.

[yxami]

A clingy, not very innocent idol who refuses to confess despite his actions already seeming like those of a boyfriend.

desc: yandere innocent idol x gn manager reader, lots of nsfw near the end, manipulation, possessiveness, and general asshole behaviors from a yandere. I really didn’t intend to right this much, oopsies.

You’ve been managing an idol for a bit of time now, a very short and stressful time. All your hard work pays off when you can go home and relax without a worry about how Akol is going to act in the general public.

He’s pulled too many stunts, some even making you believe that his career was done for, but he proved toy wrong when all he had to do was write a sweet and short tweet of how sorry he is and the fans were back to loving him.

Not that they hated him in the first place anyways, they were always going to love him, always. Why else would he preform for losers who could commit to him no matter what he did?

“Manager! I think I lost my phone in here” He knocks, louder once he starts growing impatient that you’re not hastily opening the door to see him like how he thought you would. He wants to be admired, he wants you to see how he put himself together before coming over.

“I’m comin!” You inhale as much as your lungs can let you before letting out a tired sigh, opening the door to see your precious idol looking up at you with his doe eyes, shadowed by his long lashes. If you looked any harder you’d be able to see his pupils widen when you entered the frame.

“Geez you need to start answering quicker, what if I was in a hurry or getting chased by paparazzi?” He smoothly delivers feigned worries with a whiny tone, inviting himself inside like he always does.

The sneaky minx of an idol even managed to convince you to hold up the couch while he purposefully bent over and pressed himself against you without you being able to view the not so innocent faces he made at your grunts from the weight of the furniture and his teasing.

“I just can’t find it, oh well” He slumps against the couch before you even fully set it down. You open your phone and go to call him, and as you’re doing so he stands up, wanting to look at what you were doing. He hears you dialing for someone, who on gods green earth was more important for you to be calling while he’s right infront of you??

“Who ya calling? Someone I know? Have I met them?” His questions go unanswered as he seems to stiffen when the two of you can both hear vibrating emitting from his pocket.

“Oh! It’s in my pocket, silly me” He wobbly smiles, he was so focused on you that he had forgotten to hide it somewhere. “Well, I guess my search is over, do you wanna watch a mov—“

“I’m okay, I was planning to enjoy my time off.. alone, you have a couple of brand posts you need to do, so I won’t keep you waiting ” You start walking to the door, to which he does not follow.

“No, I can do them later, let’s just watch a movie!” He insists, patting the space next to him, trying to bite back his frown. Did you not want to hangout with him? Was he being annoying? Ugh, so what if he was being annoying, you should entertaining it!!

“Akol—“

“Please? I just wanted to hang out with you today… without work n’ stuff” He mumbles, demeanor completely different from what was going through his mind. His hands are clasped in his lap as he squirms, looking down like a kicked puppy.

“Alright..” You quietly sigh, making sure your front door was locked before coming back to the couch, somehow immediately having your pretty little idol in your lap. He’s becoming more shameless by the minute.

He whispers a few thank you’s while facing you, wrapping his arms behind your neck as he sneaks his face between your shoulder and neck. He’s inhaling your scent, growing more aroused by the minute but he won’t dare to do anything. “Not yet” He repeats in his mind, but he breaks and can’t help but grind his lower half against yours.

“Manager…?” He says a little too breathlessly, capturing your attention away from the movie and at him, you pat his back, rubbing it softly as if he was a sick critter. “Yeah?”

“Can you help me, please? It’s so hot and.. I-I can’t focus, you’re too distracting” He whispers, lips almost touching your left ear, as he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes are clouded with lust, pupils almost in hearts.

His grinding only quickens when he notices that you’re trying to focus on the movie, he’s jealous, rightfully so, why aren’t you focusing on him? He’s perfectly playing his usual sweet idol act, it should work on you!

“I can’t do that. I’m not someone who should be touching you like that” You shake your head, placing your hands on his hips, making him shiver as if he was cold despite his body feeling on fire from your fingers pressing into his skin. You’re stimulating him with it but your words just make him want to bash his head.

“I don’t care if you should or shouldn’t be..! I trust you” A throaty whine leaves from his throat, lips quivering as he hardly needs time to get his eyes to water at the perfect moment. “It’s okay see?” He moves your hand on his chest, lifting his shirt so you could touch him bare. He cups your hand, making it squeeze around his perky nipple.

He growing more and more pathetic, and he knows it, he could care less. He doesn’t even care about what his fans would say if they found out about his crush on you, fuck his fans, he only wants you! He’d leave all of them if it meant that he could have you.

“You’re very sweet Akol, but you know I can’t, I would do it to help you but this is just going to start a bad habit” You sighs, taking your hand away much to his dismay, he’s about to reach for your hand again before you move him off your lap. Fuck. no, you’re supposed to be saying yes, you have to.

He internally panicked for a few moments, eyes flickering with worry before smashing his lips against yours, making it soft and passionate once you don’t try to pull away, his kisses are needy and insistent, just like him. He sneaks his hands under your shirt, hands squeezing your chest, slowly rubbing your sensitive nipples between his thumb and pointer.

“I won’t ask you for anything more? Just please entertain me this one time?” His voice is rough and raw, nothing alike compared to the chipper and sweet idol you usually witnessed, this was real.

“I promise I won’t ask again” His lies coax you to help the poor idol you deemed to be in need, despite never needing saving from his lust for you, if anything you were the one who needed it after he milks you dry.

[abyssruler]

thinking about idol reader and fan alhaitham except he’s very lowkey about it and secretly goes to every concert and fan meeting you have, wearing thick black-rimmed glasses that really shouldn’t work to conceal his identity but miraculously does.

alhaitham who calls himself a casual fan but has all of your albums displayed on a rack in his room along with an entire wall of posters of your face, the signed note he has from you is framed and placed right on top of his desk to be looked at whenever he needs a boost when he’s studying.

alhaitham who just got out of a thesis defense wearing a whole ass suit, looking entirely out of place in a sea of sweaty teenage girls and middle-aged men wearing merch with your face in it, but he’ll brave through the whole ordeal if it means getting to talk to you during a fan meeting.

alhaitham who has you as his phone’s wallpaper, which is why he never opens it when he’s in campus nor does he let anyone borrow it, even during emergencies. one memorable time was when kaveh broke his leg and needed alhaitham’s phone to call his mom, and after several arguments, alhaitham agreed but only after changing his wallpaper and locking several apps so kaveh wouldn’t be able to snoop.

alhaitham who knocks into kaveh during a concert, so now he’s stuck having to do the chores because of blackmail.

alhaitham who grits his teeth to keep from outing himself as your fan whenever kaveh goes into long monologues during class about your songs, having to bite back his tongue in order to stop himself from blurting out that no, your songs aren’t just full of cutesy lyrics, they have a deeper meaning to them that goes into the realities of the real world and how it affects people blah blah blah.

and it isn’t until the entire room is silent save for the sound of his long-winded rant that alhaitham realizes that he may just be a little in too deep to be called a casual fan.

“maybe the literal wall of posters should have clued you in on it,” kaveh tells him with an unimpressed stare.

[sstrwbrryccke]

—bullying him pt.2 | sub choi soobin

part 1 | part 3

tags: bully reader x nerd soobin, gn reader, mean reader, sadistic reader, somewhat possessive reader, one-sided crush but not really (reader has feelings too but doesn’t admit it), public humiliation, public orgasms, dubcon, oral (soob.receiving), vibrator (soob.receiving), unhealthy relationship, heavy exhibitionism, kind of cute at the end?

its a few weeks or maybe months into this weird relationship you two established. or more accurately, you pulling him around and him being at your every beck and call. maybe your relationship with him was a secret, but how downbad he is for you wasn’t. it was real obvious how he looked at you in class, only to look down when you made eye contact with him. a pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks. look at him, getting his hope up and everything. when you call him to your desk during lunch break, he couldn’t help his eagerness, walking past your friends and glancing at you through his bangs. it’s pathetic, really, how excited he gets when you give him attention.

“what… what did you need?” he repeated, barely able to keep himself in check. probably used up all his courage just to choke out those words. your friends stare at the two of you, some holding back their laughter while others were glaring at him. he shrivel under their judging gazes, his tall figure and head slightly slumped as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller. which was impossible, considering how tall he was.

you smile at him, and he lights up a little. “yeah, can you get me a drink at the vending machine?”

he dissipates visibly, a small frown on his plump lips before he nods— you would almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for how cute he looked while sad. he quickly rushed out of the classroom, probably to get away from your friend’s snickering.

soobin’s attraction was no secret even to you. but could you really blame him? just a few days ago, you discovered something shocking (or maybe it was already obvious), not only was soobin a friendless loser (to his own admission), but he also had the biggest, fattest crush on you ever since the start of high school. when he told you, you couldn’t help but grin, this was a gold mine. from then on, it was just so much easier to play with him.

you were slapped out your daze by your friends, they were patting your back while laughing.

“holy shit, you made him your errand boy?” one joked, but you felt a slight rising irritation at their sudden attention towards soobin. it was irrational, seriously, because you really had no problem with it before.

“woah, why the glaring.” another just jested, and you rolled your eyes, packing up your lunch.

“i mean, i would kill for an errand boy. bet he’ll get down on his knees and—“

“shut up. with your face, he doesn’t need to be on his knees to gag” you snap, and perhaps you overreacted. but your friends shrugged it off as a joke, laughing and jabbing at the guy who got insulted

“damn they got you there.”

you put the final item into your bag before standing up and heading for the door.

“yo where you going?”

“rooftop.” you weren’t technically lying.

during school, outside of the classmate context, you pretend to not know him, it was more fun that way. you told him it was because you couldn’t associate with a loser like him, and he meekly nodded. (real reason? teasing him was fun).

it was easy to spot soobin at the vending machine, lamely contemplating which drink you would like the most. so concentrated that he didn’t even notice your figure approaching him until your strong grip was pulling him by the arm. he visibly flinches, wide eyes confused as he stumbles behind you.

“the— you— the drink”

“i wasn’t even thirsty.”

he seemed puzzled at this, but lets you manhandle his tall ass figure anyways (it never ceases to turn him on). you release his arm when you reach the rooftop. he takes a glance at his surroundings before looking back at you. suddenly awkward in his body again, he shifts from one foot to the other while fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“so uhm… what are we do—“

you roughly kiss him and he shuts up with a small startled noise. you push him harshly into the fence and he yelps into the kiss before having his senses dominated by your eager tongue, forcing into his mouth. he was frozen like always, closing his eyes desperately, pilant under your touch because he had no damn idea what he was doing. after a few seconds, his jittery hands push you off, because he physically couldn’t breathe anymore. he inhales shakily, lips wet with saliva and cheeks tinted red.

you hand lowers and begin to unbutton his shirt, feeling from his chest to his stomach. his skin was always so soft and satisfying to feel. (you once asked if he had a skincare routine and he nodded nervously, asking if you wanted to know) you slid your hand up to his nipple, pinching at one. he trembles at this, hands sweaty and he didn’t know where to place them so he just grips at your shoulders. your hand suddenly palms at his bulge and he jolts, a desperate breathy moan escaping his mouth

“it’s! it’s public! we’re— we’re in public!”

he manages to squeak out, eyes squeezed shut. you stop, a snarky expression on your face. you pull away fully, leaving him with his back flush against the fence. he whimpers softly when he felt your weight lift from his body, eyelids fluttering open to look at you.

“m’kay. i’ll just go then.”

you roll your eyes as you turn your heel.

“wait! wait! i’m sorry. im so sorry. please don’t leave me.”

a grin quirks the edges of your lips as you turn back towards him. hands on hips.

“thought you said we’re in public?”

“yes but… i…” he says between bated breathes, blush deepening.

“you still want me to touch you, don’t you? desperate slut.” you step closer to him, grin on your lips.

he gulps, head lowering until his bangs covered his eyes, but you could see the red tips of his ears. he nods slowly.

“good, then we’re doing it my way.”

you stride confidently to him and he shivers. your hand goes to his pants without hesitation, pulling everything down at once. making his rock hard cock slap against his abdomen, angrily red and leaking. you take it in your hands, pumping it a few times and he cries.

“shush. don’t come.”

you just warn, grasping the head of his cock, hard. his thighs tremble but he nods. you found out, while still in the beginning stages of this weird relationship, that soobin orgasms embarrassingly fast. i guess that’s what you get with a perverted virgin nerd who’s only frame of reference for sex is manga porn. but it wasn’t a bad thing really, you just liked seeing him desperately try to hold it in.

“don’t come until i say so, okay?” you repeat, harshly gripping at his cock again and he whimpers a yes.

without hesitation you kneel down, taking his length into your mouth in one go. you can hear his gasp, but you didn’t need to look up to know he was nervous, you could tell with how his calves and thighs shook. you were only teasing when you called him small earlier, because he was big, big enough to hit the back of your throat. you slowly began to move and he moans softly, so sensitive. he tasted sweaty and salty, but it wasn’t a bad scent. (you made sure he was cleaned up after all.)

you pull your mouth off just up till his tip, your tongue swirling around and digging into his slit while your hands pumped the rest of his length. he cries and thrashes, jittery hands coming up to grasp your hair. but you immediately slap him off, glaring up at him. you were in control, not him. you slide your mouth off his cock and he immediately starts apologising.

“i’m sorry! please don’t be mad, i didn’t mean to! i won’t touch you without permission i—i’m sorry, please don’t stop!”

“instead of worrying about your pathetically small dick, how about you worry about your loud ass moans?”

he quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, ears a bright red, eyes teary. you suck his dick into your warm mouth again and he sobs quietly. his moans came out breathy and squeaky, he’s never been a loud moaner, but it was extra hard to keep it down when his bully was literally going to town on his cock. you were enjoying him like he was a lollipop. your hand creeps up to his ass, one finger slipping into his hole, already loose from the morning. (he stayed over and you took him to school) he doubles over, gasping and squirming, thighs trembling, and you knew he was close before he even whispered it. he shakes his head violently, nearly drooling at the double stimulation— and just before his stomach spasms and he feels his sweet orgasm, you pull off. one hand firmly squeezing the base of his cock, denying his orgasm.

he cries out, eyes wide as he processes the situation. you stand, legs a little shaky due to kneeling for so long, a smile on your lips. when he realises you weren’t going to let him cum, he sobs, tears quick to come down. his bunny eyes glancing at you meekly as if asking why you stopped.

“oh soobin.” you tease, dropping his cock from your grip. “class is about to start soon, you wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect track record, do you?”

he looks at you in a silent fear at what you’re insinuating, but don’t worry, you were far meaner than that. you pull his pants further down, digging into your pocket and showing him the vibrating bullet you bought especially for him. more tears fall down and you just chuckle.

it didn’t take much for you to squeeze the bullet in. but he was squirming and whimpering the whole way through, shaking his head and looking at you so pitifully.

“you’re… you’re so mean.” his voice cracks, bottom lip trembling.

you wipe his tears with a smirk, pulling up his pants and buttoning his shirt, his hard-on uncomfortably pressing against the fabric.

“yet look who’s turned on.”

☆★☆

in class it wasn’t any better, he was clearly ruffled, his hair tousled, collar undone and eyes red from previously crying. one of his legs was shaking unrelentlessly as he sits down. wincing when he feels the chair press up against the vibrator.

he was hyperaware how each movement causes the bullet to shift. soobin tries his best to reduce the friction and calm his erection down, but oh boy were you mean. just when he thinks he’s got it handled, you prove him wrong.

because the moment the teacher walked in, the torment began. you would periodically turn on the vibrator, making him jolt in his seat and hit his knee against his desk. alerting everyone to him as he lowers his head in embarrassment, whispering lightly that he was fine when the teacher asked. he came immediately with the stimulation. it was even worse when he was given a question to answer, you were unrelenting, turning it on to the highest setting and making his thighs shake uncontrollably. it took all his willpower and more to not burst out crying and moaning in the middle of class.

“choi soobin? soobin? soobin?”

he jolts from his daze, fists clenching painfully hard, nails digging into his palm. the teacher has been trying to get his attention for the past minute. a few students around him whisper and he quivers. glancing back at you for a second, catching your smug look, hands in your pockets; before he faces back at the teacher.

“mr choi, are you okay?”

no, he was not alright. he had busted into his pants for the 3rd time now and you weren’t even going to give him a break!

“yep, perfectly okay.”

the teacher looks doubtful and god soobin just wishes she would stop talking. he really shouldn’t be thinking like this about his favourite teacher. but please shut up and stop asking already!

“are you sure? you’ve looked uneasy this entire lesson.” and he wanted to dig a hole in the ground to die in shame. he bites his lips hard and you turn down the vibration. is this salvation? are you being nice for once?

“i’m sur —ck.” he bit down on his words, because if he didn’t he would’ve moaned in front of everyone in class. you turned it to the highest, and he really just came in his pants in front of the teacher. he was so overstimulated, it hurt to come, his whole body clenched hard so he could keep his trembling down.

thinking quick on his feet, he covered his stumble with coughing. “i — i may be sick.” he stammers, never has he been a good liar, and you snicker at his cover-up. the teacher however seemed to believe him, no reason to doubt the obedient straight A student after all.

“you should rest when you get home.”

☆★☆

class ends officially with the bell. the teacher dismisses the students with a quick reminder of the homework, not as if anyone was listening. soobin somehow managed to last through the whole class. and thank god was it the last class of the day, otherwise he might really have died. he slumps over his desk in a big sigh of relief. he would pack his things and rush out the door as soon as possible, but— he was afraid to even stand up and move. he didn’t want to look down at his crotch, he knew he had thoroughly soiled his pants and it probably leaked onto the seat.

you waited with him, putting every item extra slow into your bag. when the teacher had left the room, telling you two to lock the classroom behind you. that’s when you moved.

you stand in front of him, dangling the vibrator remote in his face. he fiddles with his fingers, unsure on what to say. at least you seemed happy?

“let’s see the mess you made.”

you slide him with his chair away from his desk, exposing his spread legs and like he thought, his crotch was wet with come. it was a terrible (and arousing) sight, there was a huge wet patch on his crotch and a small puddle on the wooden chair. he has never come this much before and you never overstimulated him this much either. all of this and you didn’t even touch or embrace him! you were so so so mean to him, and he felt tears fall again, his bunny eyes looking up at you in humiliation.

he was just so cute, you couldn’t help it. you wiped his tears with your sleeve, cooing at him.

“soobin, are you embarrassed?”

he nodded, beginning to whine as he sobbed more. embarrassed is an understatement, he felt so degraded. but it turned him on so much. he was starting to think he was masochistic, or maybe that’s just how downbad he was for you.

“you were so obedient, you want a reward? what reward do you want?”

you wipe each tear as it falls out, gently cradling his face. he pondered for a second, shaking his head.

“i don’t know…”

you chuckle, pulling him up and his legs shakes, you put his face in the crook of your neck and hugged his waist. he slumps over you and you rub his back. damn. this was comfortable, he never thought his bully would give a single shit about his feelings and you never thought you would ever comfort him.

why did you even bother to comfort him? it didn’t mean you tolerated him or anything. he was just cute that’s why you let him hug you, telling him he did a good job in his ear. there was no reason behind it, like how there was no reason behind you walking him back to your house, hand in his hand. (only because he was too jittery and wouldn’t stop shaking)

“lets go on a date tomorrow.” you deadpan. nothing behind those words, nope, nothing at all. just a reward for his good behaviour.

he looks at you with stupidly cute hopeful eyes, ignoring the uncomfortable squench in-between his thighs.

“you promise?”

“promise. you big baby.”

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Just Friends

pairing: beomgyu x reader

summary: Just friends, just friends. That's all there is, all there's ever been but have you really ever been just friends?

warnings: gn reader, dom reader, sub beomgyu, thigh riding, handjob, lots of groping, car sex, mentions of masturbation, possibly more that i forgot

word count: 2.2k

a/n: writer's block is so real, i literal pulled this out of a sleep-deprived haze at 4 in the morning so feedback would be appreciated<3

Just friends. He tells himself over and over again.

Just friends. You tell yourself over and over again.

But friends don't do things like this on rainy nights in the back of your car. With your windows fogging up and the only light coming from a lone streetlight from the corner of the parking lot.

Friends don't clutch his hips, grinding him down against your thigh. Friends don't pant heavily at the feeling of his fingernails digging deep into the skin of your shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood.

At least they shouldn't.

But maybe you and Beomgyu have never really been 'just friends'.

"God," but it's never gone this far before. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

Sure there's been teasing touches and lingering looks, meaningful conversations that maybe meant more than either of you had wanted to admit.

But you hadn't expected it to go this far.

To have him clinging to you. To have his lips all over your neck and your hands all in his hair.

To have his pants discarded somewhere in the back along with his boxers in your haste...

To have his dick rubbing against the rough material of your jeans. To have him sobbing into your ear to not stop, to never stop, that he'll die without your touch.

You suppose your best friend has always been a touch dramatic.

If you could even call him that anymore-your best friend.

"Don't worry baby," every nerve ending in his body feels like it's on fire. His ears feel like they're ringing, replaying your words over and over like a broken record. "I won't."

It feels so good, it hurts so bad.

Tears stream down his face from both-from everything. From you calling him baby like he's yours. With so much affection and adoration, like he's the most important thing in the world to you right now.

Like he isn't shaking against you, crying out like some kind of wounded animal (in heat), thinking or maybe even muttering how he can't get enough, how it'll never be enough, how he wants you so bad, how he'll die before he lets you go.

Your hand guides his lips to yours, soft and sweet and hungry. Devouring every one of his whines up and replying with your own want for more, kissing him like your life depends on it. You'd always thought that he'd sound pretty, but not this pretty, not this pathetic or needy.

"Fuck, Beomgyu."

Your mouth clashes against his over and over, saliva dripping down his chin as he tries and fails in trying not to drool. You're too preoccupied in nipping at his lips that you're faintly aware of his hands slipping under your shirt until they're on your chest, squeezing and exploring everything he's only fantasized of.

He hasn't felt this good before. Ever. Not from past partners or from his own hand. Toys feel like nothing compared to this, the unforgiving bite of denim somehow lightyears better than vibrators and dildos and whatever else he's used to replicate your touch.

The friction makes him feel like he's burning but his hips just rut faster. He wishes it was your skin, soft and comfortable and you-but he doesn't think he can be patient enough. Doesn't think he can find it in himself to let go of you long enough for you to take your pants off. He has his nose in your hair and the taste of you on his tongue, and he can't stop now.

He can't stop. Not when he's wanted this for so, so long.

Okay, so maybe you've never truly been 'just friends'.

Well, maybe before that first time you were out at a party together and a friend of a friend approached Beomgyu, trying to talk him up while you stood right next to him.

Before you'd watched, something ugly simmering in the pit of your stomach that you couldn't fully decipher-that you weren't sure you wanted to decipher.

It was only until Beomgyu shot you a pleading look that you were able to keep your cool and then you'd very kindly told that friend of a friend to back the fuck off and leave the two of you alone.

And maybe, just maybe Beomgyu had gone home that night and let his hand wander past his waistband to wrap around his aching cock.

Jesus christ.

With each stroke of his hand he conjured your image in his mind. It was you looking at him, watching him-touching him. Talking to him in that same cold, mean voice you had talked to that friend of a friend.

Hating him and loving him all in one, rough and cruel but soft and caring. He wanted all of it, all of you.

And then afterwards it was basking in an afterglow of remembering the way that your eyes softened once again when they landed on him and your hand touched his shoulder and you asked if he was okay.

Friends do this...right? He'd thought, not ready yet to admit that maybe it was something more.

Just friends that brought you to his apartment a few weeks later, slightly ashamed and very drunk and looking for some kind of comfort after you'd been out drinking for better part of the night.

Just friends that had your hands all over his body and your lips all over his throat, sloppy wet kisses making his head spin and his body heat up. That'd had you shoving him down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, pushing your knee between his legs as your cold hands slithered up his shirt in search of warm, smooth skin to lay claim on as yours.

Just friends with the way that you promptly passed out on top of him and conveniently remembered nothing of the night before. Of groping your best friend, of telling him how pretty he was, of whispering that he was a good boy.

'I want you.'

'You're so pretty.'

'Perfect.'

'My good boy.'

'Mine.'

Friends don't know the way his moans sound. Or the way his skin feels against yours.

Like tonight,

A movie. That was all it was supposed to be.

Platonic. Friends. Just going to see a movie together, get dinner after. Nothing more.

"Touch me! G-od, please touch me!" His hand flies up, fingers dig into your wrist as he pulls it down between his legs, his dick throbbing and needy.

It feels so much better-your hand-your skin, your fingers loosely wrapping around him, teasingly rubbing at the tip. "And why should I baby? Have you been good? Have you been a good boy?"

He doesn't know.

He doesn't knowHe doesn't knowHe doesn't know.

All he knows is you.

Just friends shouldn't let things get to this point.

...Oh well.

A movie. A quiet theatre. Darkness and eyes all too often glancing at the profile of the other.

A tension palpable in the air as fingers brushed against each other to grab popcorn. Hands aching, itching to hold each other. An agonizing one hundred and twenty minutes.

Nothing though.

Only getting into the car afterwards and driving off.

"What do you want to eat?" He only shrugs in reply and you roll your eyes. "Helpful."

"Well I dunno," he thinks, "the usual? I can place an order to your place and we should get back before it gets there."

You hum in reply. "It's late though, you planning to stay over for the night?"

"...Sure."

Hesitation. He can only think of the last time you stayed the night. So long ago now, he'd avoided either of you spending the night at the others ever since. From fear? From preservation? Or from hoping that your frustration would break the dam first.

'I want you.'

'Mine.'

Words that flash through his mind unbridled. Sounds and touches that flood his brain

'My good boy.'

He swallows, trying to keep his eyes on the screen of the phone. Trying to hope the darkness blankets how red his face has turned.

"Hey could you pull over here?"

"Sure?" You'd glanced over at him and the question on your face evident.

He didn't elaborate though and you didn't ask.

You'd pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. Only a few cars left in front of a grey, drab building. Parked beside a flickering streetlight that continued for a few minutes before doing out completely. Certainly the furthest thing from being romantic by any means.

Nothing specific broke the tension, the unspoken rules.

But the next thing the either of you know is he's on your lap clawing at you aimlessly, pure desire fuelling him to do such pathetic things. Like telling you how horny he is and how bad he needs you.

You don't seem to have any problem with his confession though.

Responding in turn rather appropriately you'd think. And then your lips are against his and you're tugging at his clothes and touching his body like he's your last lifeline.

And then you're in the backseat of the car, his pants and boxers discarded into the back, your lips curled into a smirk against his skin.

And then you're here.

Doing things that friends certainly should not be doing.

"M' a good boy, promise! Please, I'll be your good boy!"

You'd imagined how his face would look all fucked out all but a million times in the dead of night, thinking about things you certainly should not have been thinking about.

But you'd never know that your imagination would do absolutely no justice to the real thing.

To his lips slick with your spit and his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. Eyes fluttering like he's fighting to merely keep them open with every sensation he's feeling.

"Pretty~" you mutter.

Bite marks and hickeys all over his neck and collarbone-good thing it's nearly scarf season. Or bad thing, you're not sure you want him to hide these or if you want him to parade them around, show off your claim to him to everyone.

"So fucking pretty it's not fair-" a high, needy whine climbs up his throat and he lets it, because you don't even have to say it, he knows how much you love hearing how good you make him feel.

His eyebrows tug together as if in concentration. Concentration to stay sane while you let him fuck into your hand.

You trail a finger over his cheekbone, collecting a tear while everything within him tries not to let this end, because it can't be over yet, he doesn't want it to be over yet and he's not sure he can go again until later-if there is a later.

You lick the tear off your finger and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. "Not fucking fair to make me wait this long. Such a tease, such a whore."

Fingers press against his lips and he opens with zero hesitation. This is what you want, this is what he wants-more than anything.

You pull them out all too soon and replace your fingers with your tongue, letting him suck it into his mouth with a moan.

Your grip tightens, your hand moves faster and faster and his toes curl. Too much, too much-he can't...it can't, he doesn't want this to be over-

"No!"

His head falls into your neck with a strangled scream as he cums into your hand, staining your jeans and his shirt. You stroke him still to prolong the pleasure, milking him dry of everything he has before he lets out the first whine of protest and you stop.

"Please,"

His breath comes out in rushed pants, his head a jumbled mess of "more, please more-" followed by incoherent babbles and then, finally, "I can go again, wanna...wanna go again. Just...use me, use me however you want." as his hips work still, even if it only works against what he really wants, releasing pained whimpers all the while from the self-inflicted overstimulation.

You smile and he can practically hear it before he's flipped into his back, spread out and pinned against the slightly uncomfortable seats of your car as you press apart his legs, eyes roving over him before beginning to undo your pants.

"Use you, huh baby?"

Yes.

However you want. Use him however you want. That's all he wants. All he's wanted for so long.

The pads of your fingers press against his thigh, too close and he squirms with oversensitivity.

"We'll still be friends after this though right?"

He lets out a noise between a cry and an affirmation, eyes sliding shut as your body presses against his.

"Friends!" He gasps.

Your fingers lace together. You smile.

"But not just friends now are we...?"

a/n: y'all please forgive me if this is absolute bullshit. i feel like i haven't written anything for real in forever and i feel like rusty now lol. but lmk what you think (to possibly give me inspo to write more lol😭)

my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix,

[djljpanda]

Could you write a Ozzie x Fizz x Idol! Succubus! Gn-reader? Like how they would be with readers occupation? If not that’s totally fine!

Asmodeus X Fizzarolli X Idol Gn!Reader

Before you even got with Ozzie and Fizz your name was well known throughout the seven rings of hell.

I feel that the two wouldn't mind your career but would be upset when you would have your tours that would take centuries for you to come back.

And why would they have a secret fan account for you were they would post about you and defend you from any haters.

They do love that you are chasing after your dream but do get worried for you when it comes to fans.

They would always be there to protect you when fans would get too close and that poor demon would be gone if they would try to hurt you or follow you in any way.

They love the costumes you wear and even beg you to wear it for them in the bedroom.

They do have merch of you somewhere in their room.

Asmodeus does send bodyguards for you cause nothing should happen to his partner. And Fizzarolli is usually texting you to make sure you are alright.

When you are creating new songs you do go over them with Asmodeus and Fizzarolli to see how they would think.

Overall they worry about you but they know that this is your dream all they ask for is for you to be careful and to come back home as quickly as you can.

[onigirio]

lyney is your biggest fan

no, really. as one of the biggest idols in fontaine, the magician is in awe of your talent. you were both performers yet, you were both so different. lyney's performances relied on illusions, trickery, lies. however, you were born with it. a voice that easily made his card tricks look abysmal. no amount of rabbits pulled out of a hat would compare to your natural talent

"excuse me- monsieur lyney!"

the magician turned around at the sudden call of his name. him and lynette had just finished another show at the opera epiclese, which had a surprisingly large turnout. what he wasn't expecting, was to see fontaine's national treasure in the audience

his lavender eyes widened upon seeing you. no amount of magic (real or fake) could hide the sudden increase of his heart rate

"ohoho? the ever radiant rainbow rose of fontaine. to what do i owe the pleasure?" he said coolly, despite heat on his face. you were even more beautiful in person

you laughed softly, a sound that brought a flush to his cheeks, "i just wanted to say that your show was absolutely mesmerizing!" the way you said it, with a sparkle of joy in your eyes, surprised him. the performer he looked up to, loved his show? lyney couldn't fathom someone as talented as you even sparing his hat tricks a second glance

"th-thank you demoiselle" he said as a flush made his way to his cheeks, "a compliment from such a praised performer such as yourself means the world to me."

you waved him off, "please- today I'm not an idol. consider this a fan showing their appreciation for their favorite performer"

fan?

oh

oh

you were lyney's fan. you enjoyed his shows as much as he enjoyed yours. the blond found himself flushing at the prospect of you cheering him on

someone called your name, and the both of you turned to watch two men in black suits approaching

"ah, my security is here" you said with a small frown, "they're pretty good magicians too, they know how to make all the fun disappear"

lyney pursed his lips. he didn't like seeing you sad, so, in a flash, he took off his black magician's hat and pulled out a rainbow rose

"lucky for you, I'm an expert at making things reappear"

now it was your turn to blush. you could only stutter, struggling to find the right words as you took the delicate flower into your hands. when your body guards arrived, you thanked lyney with a shy smile and left

maybe he wasn't the greatest magician, because you had just pulled off the most incredible trick

you made his composure disappear

[phoxphenex]

now i need haechan x 8th nct dream member text 😞😞😞

haechan x 8th nct dream member texts

[bunny-yan]

Yandere!Fan x Idol!GN!Reader

TW: mentions kidnapping, mentions stalking, violence, gaslighting, minors DNI

—

He’d been happy, having you here. 

A secret from the outside world. 

Others would look at him and judge his unkempt appearance,  his timid nature, his uncertain words. They’d sneer and whisper cruel, unpleasant things. Things he’d often go home and repeat to himself. 

Opening the door to the empty house, he wouldn’t hesitate to pad up the stairs, passing all the rooms heading straight to the one in the far left corner and turning the silent knob to enter into his sanctuary. 

It was like he’d spent the entire day struggling to pull oxygen into his lungs and the moment he entered this sacred space, his lungs could rest. 

Met with the the large poster cut out of your smiling face the moment he opened the door, he couldn’t stop his own smile as he greeted you warmly. 

Walking over, he’d kiss the piece of paper, feeling embarrassed but quickly getting over it due to the lack of judging eyes, he told you about his day. He never wanted you to worry, but you were the only one in this cold world that he could be honest with. It didn’t matter where he went since your eyes would follow him faithfully, looking out from every corner of the room, but he felt a deeper connection when he kneeled in front of the poster, relaying each and every mundane happenstance faithfully. 

He imagined that you would be kind. That you would get angry at others for being so despicable. So cruel. That you would stroke his head and offer him the peace, the sense of belonging that he’d always craved for. It didn’t matter if everyone else rejected him as long as he had you. Everything was alright in the world as long as you were by his side.

On days when others were especially awful, he’d take the pen out of the safe and rewind the audio he recorded on it. The day you had a meet and greet after one of your concerts, he didn’t care if he had to wait hours, he just knew he had to talk to you. And when he’d spilled everything, spewing intimate details of his life like a broken fountain, he was in awe of you. You were just as sweet, just as kind as he thought you’d be. Even saying some of the things he’d imagined and when you offered to give him a hug, the blush that spread across his face burned just as brightly as it did that day, squeezing his legs together as he begged not to make a fool of himself in front of you, though he didn’t care in the privacy of his home. 

Your sweet words were muffled, something he often cursed his past self for, but he could make out everything you said, having listened to it so often that the memory, every word, every pause, every breath you would take was ingrained into him. He knew others were jealous that day. When he wrapped his arms around you, sweaty palms afraid to touch your back as whispers of others calling him a “fucking loser” or a “gross fanboy” circled throughout the open space, but it didn’t matter. You were hugging him, touching him with the hands he could only dream about, making them a reality. You were the only thing that mattered. The only voice he truly cared to listen to and he couldn’t help the small shudder when you whispered, “It’ll be okay.” in his ear.

He hated the way he practically ripped away from you that day, sending a hurried thank you over his shoulder before rushing to the bathroom to take care of the throbbing bother between his legs. 

It was routine at this point. After he was spent, he cleaned himself up and carefully put the pen back in the safe where it belonged, a treasure hidden until it was needed again. 

And it would be needed again. 

You were the only thing that mattered. The only thing that made him feel that life was worth living.

But these days he was different. The words others spoke didn’t bother him as much. He went through the day with his chest tightening in excitement instead of fear, a slow anticipation that spread as the day carried on. 

Walking up his porch, there was a bounce in his step. He threw down whatever he was carrying the moment he walked into this house and ran up the stairs, breathless as he forced himself to slow and open the door carefully so he didn’t startle you. 

Wide eyes looked into his own and he smiled before saying, “Hi.” in a breathless voice. 

You were tied up on his bed, wrists forced together and pulled taut against the headboard. Rope wrapped around your thighs giving you little movement. 

He came over after fishing a key out of his pocket to lock the room to his door, tugging at the rope, allowing it to loosen and unravel completely before going to do the same for your wrists. You had stayed in one position for so long, it was hard to move. Fingers twitching, your body felt numb as you tried to will circulation through your arms and feet. 

Harper tried to leave you alone without restraints, but the moment he undid them, freeing you from the chair, you bolted to the door. 

You twisted the door handle, but before you could get it fully open a hand slammed against it, barely shoving it closed before another was wrapping around your waist dragging you down, trying to yank you away from the door, from your escape. Pleas and desperate cries flooded your ears, begging you to stop, to stay, not to do this. 

You didn’t want to listen, but your body betrayed you, stiff from the stationary position you were forced to sit in, it wouldn’t do what you told it to. It only took one wrong step to go crashing down with him on top of you.

Having you struggling underneath him, it felt surreal. You were real and you were trying to leave him. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to avoid hurting you as he dragged you back towards the chair. It was difficult, he muffled his voice when you clipped him in the chin or managed to shove your elbow into his ribs, but the simple thought of his life if you managed to get away, managed to leave him, it was unbearable enough to provide him with an extra surge of adrenaline to struggle through his pain and terrifying weakness. He apologized profusely, but it didn’t stop him from wrapping the rope around your wrists before tying the rope to the bed. 

He couldn’t understand why you stopped struggling, but his face caught on fire the minute you shifted and he threw himself off of the bed. Pressing a hand to his mouth, his emotions were a cacophonic mess between embarrassment that his body had betrayed him in such a desperate situation and hopelessness that the one person who offered him a reprieve from the biting loneliness had also tried to abandon him. 

Without hesitation. 

Harper was breathing hard, panic erupting when he saw you go for the door. It was the first thing he changed. Put locks on the outside just in case you ever got out of those restraints. Because he wasn’t taking them off unless he was here with you. He felt bad. He noticed how shaky your movement was, how uncertain, but he couldn’t live with that fear that you’d try again. 

“How are you? Do you need to go the bathroom? Are you hungry? I’m sorry, I would spend all of my time with you if I could, but they’d know if I stopped showing up.” 

You didn’t say anything, simply watching him as you pushed yourself further into the corner on his bed. Wary of him. 

He bit the inside of his cheek. He knew those eyes. He chewed. Those were the same eyes he watched others with. Chewed until he could taste blood in his mouth. He tried to force a smile, lingering near the edge of his bed. 

“I can whip something up if you’re hungry. Some pasta? That’s simple. Or I could order pizza. You can get any toppings, as many as you want… O-Or if you don’t want pizza I’m fine with ordering anything else. Do you want Chinese food? Thai? Vietnamese? Or if you’re not hungry right now I can get you something else. Something light? But if you don’t want anything at all that’s fine too. I brought you some water. Water is- it’s important that you hydrate... You’re not talking… Why aren’t you talking? Speak to me, please.”

“I want to go home.” you said, clearing you throat from hours upon hours of unuse. 

His face dropped, fighting to stop the nervous smile from dropping, his face twitched before melting to utter devastation. 

Of course you wanted to go home. 

No one would like being tied up for hours a day. He was sure it wasn’t comfortable. You were used to having the freedom of doing whatever you wanted to. Now you had to rely on him for  something as simple as using the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, shifting on his feet as he edged closer. “It must be hard being tied up. I promise I’ll try to figure out something more comfortable. Do your wrists hurt?” 

He tried to reach out to grab your hand, but froze when you flinched away. A small smile came to his face. Of course you would be nervous about him touching you. It was stupid for him to even try. Harper didn’t want to blame you. You wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t drugged you and dragged you back to this house before gagging you and tying you up to make sure you wouldn’t alert the neighbors before he could make it back to you. But if you hadn’t tried to run away, if you have just accepted what the two of you had everything would be fine. 

But, no. You ran. You tried to leave him. 

“I’ll try to be here more often. I’ll take days off to stay with you.”

It felt disgusting. 

“I can bring things back!”

Having to ask to be let go. 

“What is it that you miss? Your lamp? I can bring your clothes or perfume. Anything to make this feel more like home so…”

You tasted bile as the words came out of your mouth, but you didn’t see an alternative. 

Shaking your head, you held yourself. “I want to go home. Please?”

You had thoughts of hitting him over the head with the lamp. If you could catch him off guard you were sure you could overpower him and go for the door again, but his eyes were always watching you, noticing every movement you made. It was something that unsettled your skin, to feel his eyes drag across them to note every intake of breath, every shudder. 

He felt something ache in his chest, knowing that look.

Harper thought of the moments he’d spent in this room, dark and alone, staring at the pictures of you on his wall. It was his sanctuary, but it was empty. Devoid of life other than his own or the occasional critter that would sneak into his house to scavenge for food or to simple escape the elements or a large predator. It was vacant of any warmth or emotion. So much so that the last time he caught a spider crawling across his desk, he trapped it in a glass jar. Of course it was agitated, slamming against the seemingly invisible wall, unable to understand that it had been trapped, but it learned with time. He’d watch it, noticing that after a few days of exposing his presence, it no longer shrunk away. Its eyes almost appearing grateful when he’d offer it food. It made the loneliness bearable, though it was incomparable to your actual presence. 

There was something he carried throughout the day, a hope of sorts, an anticipation of happiness the moment he was able to return home. It didn’t take a genius to know that the change was you. 

It didn’t matter that the look of fear in your eyes made his heart feel as if it was breaking into thousands of tiny shards, continuously digging into his chest. He’d struggle to maintain his happy-go-lucky nature, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his hand as he reasoned that you still needed time to get used to this dynamic. That it only made sense when you’d cry. It was probably the first time you’d known relief from your demanding career. He was helping you. You needed him to whisk you away from that soul-sucking stage and from those disgusting people who paraded as fans when they didn’t really care about you. Not like he did. 

Hours he’d spend online, scouring every piece of media that your name had been mentioned in, defending your honor against trolls that felt they could degrade you, talk about the things they wanted to do with you if they ever got the chance. He couldn’t handle then all. Not when you continued perform. Continued to put yourself out there like a willing target for their unrighteous desires, no. He rescued you from that. And you rescued him from that mind-numbing emptiness he’d relied on for so long. 

He couldn’t do that again. 

“No.” he said, looking at you as he clutched the area of his shirt over his heart. “You can’t go.” He began scratching at his chest, feeling a pain that refused to leave the more he thought about that hollow loneliness. His voice was almost a whine as he let out a sharp wail. You flinched, watching him drop to his knees as he shoved his head to the ground and begged. 

“Please don’t go. Don’t say you want to leave. I can be better.” Head coming up, a small trail of blood trickled down his face, his eyes half-crazed as if he’d convinced himself of his own words. That you weren’t appreciative of his treatment rather than being ripped away from your everyday life. He said it so convincingly that it gave you an awful feeling.

“I can make you happy.”

He said, crawling too fast to the edge of the bed for your to resist the urge to jerk back, pressed firmly against the wall. 

Gripping the sheets in his hands, he said, “I’ll do whatever you want, just please. Please don’t leave me.” 

Harper began to cry. 

It was something that you were used to seeing by now. He cried when he was upset. He cried when he was happy. Harper cried when he was thanking you. Worshiping you for that day. For getting to see you in the morning when he opened his eyes. For the opportunity to cater to your every whim and need.  You were his star, and he your loyal devotee. 

You felt awful, but a part of you wished the two of you never met. You knew how deeply he valued that moment, but if it meant that you wouldn’t be here right now you’d have canceled that meet and greet in a heartbeat. It was awful. You were awful, but you couldn’t imagine he’d take an “abrupt” change in your nature well. That sickening violence he had no issue inflicting on himself kept your tongue docile as you tried to play the kind idol he so desperately wanted. 

“Harper, there are people that are worried about me. My family, my fans, my agency has to be looking for me.”

It was true. Your tour had been canceled since your disappearance and they had put out a missing persons report. 

Your secret outing had worked in his favor considering the police had yet to catch onto him. The day he spotted you walking around, relying on a flimsy mask to shield your identity, he knew it was too good to be true. 

Too good of an opportunity to pass up. 

Another sign that destiny was drawing the two of you together. You were just too blind to see it. Too focused on the secular expectations that society wanted you to believe. They wanted you to believe that he was just a stalker, but didn’t kidnap you. He rescued you with your best interests in mind. 

What did it matter what other people cared about? None of them would ever love and appreciate you the way he did. Your manager simply viewed you as a cash cow, using your hard work and effort for an easy payday. Your fans, a horde of self-obsessed assholes who would suck you dry the moment they got the chance. You were his life. His sole reason for being alive. His sole reason for being alive. 

“They aren’t.” he lied, holding his breath as he watched the shock and disbelief spread across your face. Eyes flitting back and forth between yours, he said, “A lot of people got angry about your canceled tour and someone started a rumor that you ran away to get back with your ex.”

Your heart sank. 

You didn’t want to believe him, but it was something you’d done before. You didn’t expect just how much being and idol would take out of you. Every aspect of your being was scrutinized and altered in order to appeal to your fans, to make you a more popular and attractive idol and the slow loss of your sense of self was driving you insane. Overwhelmed and severely in need of a break, you trusted your lover’s advice to take a step away, unaware of their intentions for the publicity stunt. 

Harper grit his teeth, hating to even mention your dark past, but it was necessary to make you believe that no one was looking for you. A part of you was sure to be suspicious, but he’d hammer in that point until you started to believe it yourself. 

“No one’s looking for you. I was the only one who cared enough to see that you were having a hard time.”

Was it bad that he wanted to look good in the eyes of his idol? That he wanted to see your appreciative gaze before you wrapped your arms around him, much like the first time you spoke. 

“No.” you said, breaking his fantasy. “That can’t be true. I worked hard on my upcoming performance. My manager would know that I wouldn’t just disappear.”

“They don’t care about you!” he yelled, losing control of his fear as he shot to his feet. 

“Harper, please. I know that there are people that are worried about me. Can you just imagine how my disappearance is making my family feel?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said, voice uncharacteristically cold as he walked to his desk. You watched him silently, breath hitching when you saw the red cloth he pulled out along with duct tape. 

“Harper,” you prefaced, not taking your eyes off of the items in his hand, but he didn’t give you a moment to talk him down.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he repeated, walking to the bed before lunging at you when you tried to bolt for the door.

You begged him to stop, to let you go, to allow you to return home, but the only indication that he heard you was his stricken, tear-filled eyes before he shoved the cloth in your mouth, ripping a piece of duct tape away expertly before slapping it over your mouth. 

A hand closed around your wrist and you felt your heart sink in your gut at the thought that he was putting the restraints back on when you’d barely had 30 minutes to be free without them. You yanked your hand away from his grip, knowing you could overpower him if you used your full strength, but he caught your offguard when he shoved you back, grabbing your arm once again before yanking it up and above your head to restrain it with the same cloth cuff you’d been trapped in all day. It didn’t take long for your other hand to join the first and despite being restrained you couldn’t help the exploding desire to struggle. 

He backed off of the bed, going to sit in the chair at his desk as he stared at you with that same strange coldness.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the only one that cares about you.”

You looked in his eyes and there was an unshakeable trust that you knew he wanted to see reflected back. 

“I’m the only one that cares about you.”

You closed your eyes shut, shaking your head, wishing that you’d been able to cover your ears.

“I’m the only one who cares about you.”

He would say it again and again, closing you in, until he knew you understood. Until you began to believe it yourself.  

[catcze]

I feel like Wriothesley can’t handle super spicy food. Like, he has a threshold, right, which kinda stops at the barbecue sauce that he uses in his secret sauce bbq ribs. That one’s fine. That he can handle, because it’s barbecue sauce and not just, like, chili sauce or something. But make him eat something that’s actually spicy? Like have him eating a teaspoon of hot sauce or try feeding him a dish from Liyue that has Jueyun Peppers has an ingredient and this man will fold.

Wrio’ll see his life flash before his eyes, he’ll be fighting for his damn life rolling on the floor and coughing his lungs out every few seconds after just a bite. He’ll be punching the air, pacing in circles, sweating buckets, red in the face. He can barely fucking speak. Damn near collapses if you gave him the spicy stuff that sticks on your tongue and doesn’t let go, too.

And the Motherfucker keeps insisting that he’s fine— as if he’s not hunched over, hands braced on his knees, clearly about to fucking collapse. The idiot still has the gall to say ‘no, I can finish it babe. I can do it I can eat it what are you talking about it’s just a little spice it’s not that much trust me babe.’ Even takes another bite, just to prove a point, and you’d laugh at the face he makes if he didn’t have literal tears in his eyes from the spice. Have mercy on him and give him some milk tea or something, please.

[tmzrkstan]

nct dream and risky places they would make out with idol!reader

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

warnings: kissing, cursing, "risky" situations.

genre: stable relationship, a little smutty, gn!reader.

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

♡Mark:

•Studio it's way more comfortable in Mark's opinion, no more than his room, but for the moment was the best place;

•Whether you are from the same company or just visiting to record content with other idols makes no difference;

•You know recording studios very well, you'd be dragged into one and you'd make out for a few minutes;

•Never overdoing the timing, otherwise it would take it to another level, and he wouldn't want to risk that much.

•"I'd rather run away to be with you and get scolded than get caught"

♡Renjun:

•This man is not a big fan of feeling the danger of being caught, and fear of exposing you;

•BUT, when he can't hold back the urge to hold you in his arms there's nothing stopping him;

•Not even an audience of thousands of fans at his concerts will stop him from taking you out of the seats where you hide behind mask and cap;

•Makeout sessions before his entrance as an incentive, which drives his makeup artist crazy when he saw the mess you made;

•Smiling and being seductive the whole show remembering this, fans found themselves like this 🤨 the whole time;

•"When I'm on stage, remember this man is all yours."

♡Jeno:

•Big music awards demand a lot of production of course, an outfit that no one would normally wear, you knew about it for a long time;

•However, oh boy when your group's concept threw itself into the sexy, did he lose his mind at the sight of you;

•Luckily or not, their tables were always close enough for him to see your reactions to the spice messages he sent;

•It took a lot of persistence for him to manage to get you into an out-of-the-way bathroom stall during commercials;

•It wasn't a lot of time, but enough to calm the big boy in the suit's hormones;

•"It's not me you should complain to, it's your stylist."

♡Haechan:

•Poor stairs of the Music Bank recording building had to receive your groups on the same days one week or another;

•You bet twitter would be full of clips of you guys flirting while sharing the screen during interviews;

•Running away as soon as the camera stopped recording, feeling the animation run wild;

•The possibility of getting caught plus the attraction they felt for each other always made everything crazy;

•"Just the thought of being seen kissing a hottie like you makes it all worth it."

♡Jaemin:

•Festivals, especially those with water performances;

•There was no hair or makeup to mess up plus there was too much information going on to pay attention to the couple hiding in a bathroom or an enclosed corner;

•Plus, he's confident it's just a matter of throwing a towel over the two of them to hide in emergencies;

•No wonder it's the way he goes crazy with your dripping hair and smudged eyeliner, understand his side!

•At the end of the day, he just wanted to have fun since they couldn't have all that in public with normal couples;

•"You can't deny it gets a lot more refreshing."

♡Chenle:

•Ok, but he REALLY prefers privacy, just for the record;

•However, a man's heart is not frozen, how could he deny caresses to his attention-needing partner?

•Demands a lot of demand, but ends up choosing a conference room at the end of a corridor on the top floor;

•Deep down he likes to have meetings about his future activities in the same place where you two made out for hours (oh he makes the executive type of man);

•It's little secrets he keeps to himself with a small sly smile;

•"Likes to see me in the boss chair, huh?"

♡Jisung:

•He is not as expositional as Jaemin and Haechan, but he has his moments of adventure on stage;

•Literally on stage, as early arrivals for sound checks were excuses to meet with each other;

•It was inevitable that they would exchange a few kisses here and there on the stage where in a few hours one of the two would perform;

•On his turn, he was always lost between kissing you or showing the part of the choreography that he had some concern about;

•"I think I'm a lot more confident now."

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

[milkistay]

backstage — yji

synopsis. the cute maknae from stray kids catches your eye backstage at m countdown. he’s been crushing on you since your debut.

pairing. jeongin x gn!idol!reader

format. imagine

word count. 2.2k

of course you knew of stray kids—it was impossible to even dip your toes into the world of kpop without hearing about the record-breaking 4th generation boy group whose success was undeniable—but aside from the handful of their songs on your playlists, you didn't know much about them. frankly, most of your attention was so focused on your own group and your next comeback and your upcoming shoots and your future fansigns that you barely had any time to become familiar with other groups.

backstage at m countdown, makeup artists were rushing between you and your members with brushes and lip tints, fans were whirling in the background to minimize sweating in your stage outfits, and the room had the faint stench of hairspray and coffee. the collar of your shirt was a bit too tight and the heat in the room was beginning to overwhelm you, despite the hard work of the fans. you motioned to the door to one of your members before slipping outside of the room, instantly gratified by the chill of the air conditioning in the quiet hallway.

that was, it was quiet, until you heard a loud shriek from one of the ends of the hallway. from a few doors down, two boys sprinted out of their room and a third followed, pointing a camera at them with a smile on his face. one of the first two boys was clearly chasing the other, arms held wide open asking for a hug, while the other expertly avoiding his embrace.

"ah!" the chaser—the shortest of them all, with broad shoulders and a grin on his face—exclaimed. "when did you get so cute?"

.

his victim—dark hair, sharp eyes, the most endearing smile you could ever think of on a person (he was smiling, despite being hunted down for affection)—laughed as he was cornered. he didn't give in, though, holding his arms out and pushing on the other boy's shoulders to keep him at a distance.

"enough!" he said, but he was giggling, even when he brought his fist up in a fake threat.

the chaser puckered his lips and the boy behind the camera let out a laugh.

"innie!" the chaser cried in an overly-sweet voice as he finally won the fight and enveloped the other boy in a tight hug. "cute, cute, cute!"

his victim's smile grew as he pulled his face away from the other boy's puckered lips. he was laughing with a thin blush on the apples of his cheeks and you couldn't help but chuckle at his predicament. he was still trapped in a hug when the three of them retreated back to the room and, as their door closed, you could hear a final complaint of "let go of me!"

later, you clutched a handheld fan centimeters from your face as post-performance sweat gleamed on your forehead. your stage microphone was still taped to your cheek and your in-ear monitors were draped around your neck. it was a great performance; you were extremely pleased with each of your members' execution and your staff members had praised you on a job well done. freshly-delivered starbucks drinks were handed out as you began to peel off unnecessary layers of your stage outfit.

when you finally collapsed on the couch, feeling cooled off and free from the shirt collar, you caught sight of the television on the wall live-broadcasting the m countdown stage. a boy group of eight were just beginning their first song when you immediately recognized the three boys you saw in the hallway earlier. their giggly, playful demeanors were gone, replaced by commanding expressions with a subtle air of sensuality. from the second the song track kicked in, your eyes were glued to the screen, watching the eight of them dance like it was their second nature and deliver their lines skillfully. they were beyond professionals and the simple title of 'performers.' the stage belonged to them. you glanced at the bottom of the screen at the words that read: stray kids. ah. they lived up to their endless praise.

you couldn't help but keep feeling your eyes drift to one member in particular, the one who you watched get attacked by his member in a hug. his presence on the stage was magnetic—sharp gaze, smooth movements, the youthful glow in his face. it was hard to believe this was the same boy who grinned brightly and laughed openly in the hallway. then, when the first song ended and the camera held onto his face for a few moments longer, he shot the audience a small smile and you recognized that lively glint in his eyes. you were charmed.

innie.

"do you know who that was?" you asked one of your members when the camera cut away.

your member finished a sip of their iced americano and shrugged. "i don't know. i think i recognize him—something with two letters. i want to say i.n?"

innie. i.n.

you later learned, from a quick internet search, that your member was right. his name was i.n, his real name was yang jeongin, and he was stray kid's maknae and vocalist. he was smiling in the accompanying photo that popped up.

you decided that wouldn't the last you saw of yang jeongin.

unbeknownst to you, yang jeongin had learned of you long before you spotted him in the hallway. when he first heard of the rookie group that had broken a record with their debut song, he was immediately intrigued and looked into your group. he watched a handful of music videos, listened to your debut album, and even watched some of your behind-the-scenes videos. every time, without fail, the person who caught his eye was you. there was something about your demeanor and your performances that drew him in. as he watched more content, he found himself incredibly attracted to your personality. plus, you were really, really cute.

since then, he had been keeping up with you in secret, always being the first to watch whatever the latest content from your group was, streaming your album on repeat, and popping into the occasional vlive. during a vlive of his own, he shyly mentioned that his new favorite song was one of your group's and slid in a couple of compliments in the most subtle way possible.

undoubtedly, he had a huge crush on you. he pulled your photocard in the album he bought and seungmin teased him for weeks over the giddy look that spread across his features when he saw it.

that's why, when he skimmed through the latest skz-talker episode, chuckling at the scene of changbin chasing him in the hallway for a hug, and the camera was angled in a way where it caught a figure standing at the other end of the hallway, he froze. the figure's face was blurred but he recognized your outfit immediately. he blushed and groaned with embarrassment. how was it that the first time you saw him in person it was during such a stupid antic like that? he wanted to meet you properly and charm you with a cool, professional manner. but no—you watched changbin chase him around in a baby voice. mortifying.

the next time you saw jeongin was at the kbs song festival. you sat in a chair backstage, impatiently tapping your foot and wishing you'd finish hair and makeup already. you fiddled with a certain piece of paper in your lap.

"all good," your makeup artist told you with a finishing touch of eyeshadow.

you thanked her and headed out of your dressing room with another word. it was a different building than m countdown was held in but hopefully the room you were looking for wouldn't be too far...

there it was. a few rooms down, taped onto the grey dressing room door, was a sign that read STRAY KIDS. should you knock? you suddenly felt a bit awkward; you weren't used to this kind of thing.

you ended up knocking, just loud enough to be heard over the blow dryer. the door opened moments later and a staff member stood behind it. judging by the quick look that flashed across his expression, he recognized you. you felt a bit more awkward.

"excuse me, but is yang jeongin here? i.n?"

"oh," the staff member said. he glanced behind him. "um..."

stray kids were spilled across the small room—some played games on their phones, one was asleep on the couch, another ate chips, and the rest were getting the hair and makeup done. but jeongin was nowhere to be found.

as you scanned the room, you locked eyes with one of the members getting his makeup done. you recognized him—seungmin, if you were correct—and his eyes widened in shock.

"you're looking for jeongin?" he asked you, like it was the most impossible thing in the world.

you gave him a short bow. "yes, i'd like to give him something. do you know where he is?"

"he's in the bathroom." his expression was deep with regret. "i can go get him right now."

"oh, that's okay," you assured. "i don't want to be a bother."

"no, no," seungmin said, getting up from his seat. "wait here for a bit, i'll go get him."

he slipped past you and out the door with a sense of urgency. you really didn't want to make it a big deal, and you felt bad for making him run an errand.

"i'll wait in the hallway, thank you," you told the staff member.

he nodded the closed the door uncertainly. you fiddled with the paper. maybe you should've just given it to seungmin.

one of your own staff members peeked her head out from your dressing room.

"what are you doing out there? you have to go on in two minutes, you have to come now."

"now?" you asked, even though you knew that two minutes already meant you were running late.

"yes," she urged.

you sighed, glanced at the direction seungmin left and stuffed the paper in your pocket.

"okay, let's go."

you were so focused on your performance while onstage that you didn't even think about jeongin or the paper in your pocket. you executed every practiced move with precision and smiled when the audience cheered at your parts. it was a fantastic performance and one that left you exhausted by the time you stepped off and walked back to your dressing room.

you were talking animatedly with one of your members when, right before you entered your room, you spotted jeongin standing nearby, his hands in his pockets and his shy gaze on you. he was really cute.

"i'll be there in a sec," you told your member and they closed the dressing room door, leaving you and jeongin alone in the hallway.

after a brief moment, he gave you a deep bow, one that you reciprocated immediately.

"hi," he said, eyes big and curious. "one of my members told me you were looking for me."

his hair was carefully styled and his makeup looked like it was just finished—bronze eyeshadow that drew attention to his eyes, a light rosy blush on his cheeks, a pink tint on his lips. he looked astoundingly good.

"yes," you told him with a chuckle. "yes, i was. i—uh—i wanted to give you something."

"really?"

you reached into your pocked and pulled out the paper. "yeah, well, i noticed you during m champion and i sort of thought you were very attractive," you admitted, a smile on your face. "hot and cute at the same time."

"oh," he said, the tips of his ears quickly growing red. he glanced down at his feet, then back at you. "i sort of think the same about you. i find you very attractive."

your smile grew. "is that so?"

he let out a small, beautiful laugh. "it's a little embarrassing, but yes."

"well," you began and held out the paper for him. "this was what i wanted to give you."

he took it from you and carefully unfolded it.

"it's my phone number," you told him. "if you want to, you know, get in touch with me later or something. maybe we could go for a coffee or dinner sometime."

he grinned brightly, that endearing smile of his that warmed your heart.

"i'd love that," he said. "really. i'd really love that."

you giggled. "great. i'm happy to hear that."

the two of you stayed there a moment, trading smiles and coy, pleased looks.

"i have to get back," he said, a twinge of disappointment in his voice. "i have to perform soon, so i should get back."

you nodded. "yes, of course. good luck onstage! and get in touch when you can."

"thank you, i will definitely get in touch soon. definitely," he assured. "see you later!"

"see you, jeongin."

you shared one last look of childish joy before he turned to leave and you slipped back into your room, a mental image of his gorgeous smile at the front of your mind.

[yxami]

happy nut or not November day 8!!!

description: Yandere popstar x gn manager reader, yandere themes, possessiveness, slight angst, love sick pop-star, obsession, this idea is deep from my drafts that I decided to use for nnn, he’s so dramatic I love him

When you went into the music industry, you expected to be managing a rock star, someone with your music taste and style. It would make perfect sense to be paired up with someone that was exactly like you right? Apparently not, not to him anyways.

You managed to sign someone after months of trying, you had no real connections to anyone and it was hard to find someone that would place their trust into a nobody with no history in the industry.

It stung for a bit, until you found him, Lynx was his name, and originally you thought that was a stage name, but he introduced himself and even showed his license to prove it to you, proudly beaming at your studio doorstep after seeing an ad of yours.

He was bright, and happy, a complete contrast to the dark look in the recording room behind you but you shook off the surprise and introduced yourself as well. He seemed excited to start and was quick to write lines down for his first song.

It honestly shocked you how good the numbers were when you looked at how fast his first song went in the charts, hitting ranks you’ve only dreamed to happen far into your career.

Everything went smoothly after that, he busted his ass and made more songs while you managed everything on the sidelines that would bore him almost immediately. He left you with all the things that he would hate to do, even his taxes.

It’s not like he was letting you do everything unappreciated. He’d cling onto you and cover you in every little affection you’d allow him to do before you’d make him sit on the opposite side of the couch for 10 minutes so you could have space for yourself before he was stuck to you again.

And now this was almost your everyday life as your manager for him, maybe a little too close to your now employer but he was the one who initiated everything so you couldn’t say much, you didn’t care either way.

“Are you happy! I got on the top chart again, 10th place! 10th!” Lynx cheers, happily jumping into your arms on the couch and he awaits your praise, batting his brown lashes at you, brown from the tinted mascara he uses.

“Good job Lyn” You ruffle up his hair, patting him as you let him sit comfortably on top of your thighs, he’s exactly like those microwaveable stuffed animals meant for your lap and stomach, but he was ten times bigger and way clingier than a normal person should be.

He practically purrs at your praise that he already expected, putting your arms to wrap around his lower stomach like he usually preferred, if not that then at his waist.

“What should I try hitting next? 5th place? Maybe even 1st? I think I’ll hit 1st place once I do my live concert” He stares at the TV playing some boring news until it pops up, talking about him.

You tell him to be more humble and try to be grateful about hitting 10th place before worrying about what he’d get next.

And soon comes the day for his live concert, he’s jumping up and down, a bit with anxiety and a lot with pure joy that he gets to see his fans in real life and not just as an online number.

He’s getting ready, finding it easier to do his own makeup instead of hiring makeup artists. You can see his vanity is already decorated in his favorite things to make him feel at home. With a few pictures you don’t even recognize showing him of yourself.

“Manager! Manager! Look, don’t I look nice?” Lynx gets up to hug you, only to be blocked with your hand, so he’s left with furrowed eyebrows and his arms out with nothing to grab on.

“Did I.. do something wrong?” His eyes soften, nose already turning a shade of pink as his bottom lip quivers, he already seemed to be on the brink of crying.

“We’re in public remember? Even backstage there’s people to worry about. I told you a week ago, Lynx” You hope he doesn’t take it to heart but you don’t want anything to ruin his career.

What would happen if his lovesick fans found out that he was so close to his manager? They would tear you and his career down just for assuming that the two of you had something, and their idea of having a chance with him would be ruined. Thus leading to his downfall because of the way his fans are.

“So? I don’t care if they see me with you” He insists, feeling his heart burn at your rejection to him wanting affection, something he’s never experienced and he hates it already.

“I’m not going to sit here and explain about what could happen again” You sigh, rubbing your temple at his stubbornness but understand it since you’ve spoiled him a little too much.

You decide that it’s best if you just talk to him after the show, then he’ll probably be more willing to understand.

“Let’s just relax until this is all over, okay?”

Okay. He thinks. Maybe when he’s done singing and enters backstage then you’ll be so proud you’ll hug him, that would be seem like a regular celebration right?

Then you’d be able to do it without worrying about others thinking differently.

And then you’d love him like he loves you, right?

Lynx step up on the stage, a bit anxious since his mind is still focused on you, you’re going to be watching him, he doesn’t care anymore about the rest of the fans lined up in rows cheering, just about you.

As he greets the crowd there’s just a gnawing thought that maybe you didn’t want to show him affection anymore, maybe it wasn’t just about the people and what they might think.

His heart hurts, it hurts so bad at these stupid thoughts plaguing his mind and he tries blinking away his tears. He’s on stage for gods sake! He can’t just start tearing up.

He manages to cool off and start preforming, but the second he finishes he sings his goodbyes and rushes backstage into his dressing room. Sobbing off his makeup as he puts his head down on his vanity. He’s so embarrassed, he knows that you probably saw him looking conflicted on stage.

Did he do okay? Did he impress you? Damn he hates this.

“Lyn, you did so—“ You pause as you step into the room, looking at the back of his head since he was still crying with his forehead pressed onto his folded arms. “You okay?” You quickly close the door and go up to him, brushing the hair out of his face after he looks up.

His makeup is running down his face, and somehow he still looks pretty, even when he’s crying, he’s still never fails to impress you.

“N-no, you’r— you’re” He stutters out between sobs, getting embarrassed that he can’t speak because of his loud sniffles that demand for air, so much so that he stops trying and puts his head back down.

“It’s okay, look im listening, what’s wrong?” You coo, extremely worried to what caused this reaction, he did so well on stage that it’s left you puzzled, what could’ve gone wrong?

“You s—still like me right?” He tries wiping the tears off his face but his palm just glides off his cheeks from how wet they were, he continued this useless movement until you grab a tissue and start wiping his face.

“Of course I do, what makes you think I don’t?” You purse your lips as you still try thinking about what invoked these worries out of him.

“You didn’t wanna hug me” He mumbles, embarrassed at how stupid it sounds but how can help it when he’s so in love with you? He’s always had this obsession.

“I was just worried about people getting the wrong idea, I still like you, we’re always going to be friends” You hug him as he stands up, he takes in deep breaths, inhaling your comforting scent that he’s always loved.

“Mm sorry, i was just really worried” He sulks, looking like a kicked puppy as he tightly embraces you. He’s so self conscious about his useless worries but so happy that you still liked him.

It did sting when you said friends but maybe you’ll see him as more if he proved himself. This just means he would have to try ten times harder to earn your love and he was prepared to do so.

[sweetiehyuka]

Sweet Creature - Choi Yeonjun

♡

Warnings - sub!yeonjun, gn!reader, dom!reader, sex in the forest/in a field, reader misleads yeonjun a little, light degrading, dacryphillia, penetration without protection mentioned overstimulation, pet names, fluffy ending

wc - 2k

Note - i couldn't resist my beautiful pixie boy in the daydream teaser <3 listen to ceilings by beabadoobee whilst reading this i promise it will be even better if you do

♡

This forest was like your home. Your feet knew this soil better than they knew any tile or carpet, and your skin knew this sunlight better than any artificial lamp or lightbulb. You were familiar with every tree, every flower, every little creature that lived here too.

As you wandered, the smell of dry grass filling your nostrils, you came across a creature that’s rare to spot here. Another human. A boy, to be exact.

When you found him, he was sitting in a patch of grass with his back turned away from you, eyes shut and head tilted up towards the sky. His torso was bare and his blue jeans sat low on his hips, allowing you to eye the curve of his hips and the line of his body perfectly. His skin was tan and looked impossibly soft. Maybe it was just beads of sweat, but you swear you could see specs of glitter sprinkles across his neck and back. He looked delectable.

This happens often. Pretty boys come wandering in here, not realising exactly how big the forest is, and not realising that there’s another, very hungry, person waiting to whisk them away and show them heaven.

As soon as you saw him, you wanted to have him. And have him you would.

♡

When you step towards him, some leaves crunch beneath your feet, startling the boy. 

You just stand there, still, the sun washing over you like a spotlight. You attempt to look demure and innocent, hoping he would trust you enough to talk to you.

The boy stares right back at you, hair fluttering in the breeze, cat-like eyes narrowed and focused.

“Hello?”

So, he speaks. 

As his lips move, you swear you can see sunlight glide across them, the pink of their plush flesh matching the little spots of sunburn dotted around his t zone.

“Hi,” you reply, edging closer to him, smiling. As he watches your lips curl up into a smile, a hint of confusion flashes over his eyes, making him look even more delicious than before. “are you lost?”

You can see the cogs turning in his head as he decides what to say, and you assume he’s deciding whether to be truthful and say he is, or lie to protect himself. After a few seconds, he responds.

“Yeah, kinda…”

You smile softly, hiding your intentions.

“I know my way around here well. I live nearby, so if you’d like, I can help you get out.”

His eyes light up at your offer, and you have to stop yourself from giggling over how cute he is. You hold your hand out to him and he takes it, looking up at you with a sense of fondness. 

This was gonna be easier than you thought.

♡

For about fourty minutes now, you have been leading Yeonjun through the forest. Unbeknownst to him, you had been leading him deeper and deeper inside rather than towards an exit like you had promised, as you had a certain spot in mind you wanted to take him to. It was a small field of daisies situated in a circle of willow trees ; the thought of him on his back beneath you, pretty face headed by a crown of daisies, blades of grass stuck to his soft skin, lit your stomach afire and made your desires grow stronger.

The journey had been mostly made in silence, only a few sentences of small talk and queries about directions struck up now and then. You tried to keep walking one or two steps behind him so you could admire him as he walked.

Finally, you arrive at the field. The boy gasps, tracing his fingers long the leaves of the willow trees as he walks through them, clearly not knowing whether to focus on the beautiful flowers he was walking through or the large, drooping trees that surrounded him.

“Pretty, right?”

He nods, still a little awestruck.

“We can rest here, if you want?” you propose, internally pleading that he’ll take you up on the idea. Without a second thought, he skips out of the shade of the trees and right into the middle of the small field, smiling back at you and holding his arms out . You have the urge to skip too, but you still want to keep up your facade of purity, so you decide to traipse over, wearing a shy smile on your face.

You both take a seat in the grass, and you can’t help but to stare at his lips, only now just noticing exactly how plush and kissable they look…

You can’t wait any longer.

You begin to lean in, parting your lips, but when he flinches away, you immediately pause.

"W-what are you doing?"

Feigning innocence, you shuffle back slightly.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You just look so pretty-"

"You don't even know my name..."

You cock your head back slightly.

"I don't need to know your name to want to kiss you, angel."

A blush creeps onto his face at your sudden shift in confidence. He can’t hide that you’re exciting him, so you take the hint that it’s most likely fine to continue trying to seduce him.

"Like it when I call you angel, huh?"

He nods, smiling sheepishly. You kiss him on his red cheek, causing him to hide his face in his hands. He's so cute, you feel like you're gonna explode. 

When he looks back up at you, something in the atmosphere shifts. The giddiness in his eyes turns into some kind of longing as they look up and down the line of your body, staying on your lips for a beat too long. This time, he moves in to kiss you, and you happily oblige.

♡

For around fifteen minutes, you make out, and it only takes around two minutes until you start feeling at each others bodies. The boy’s desperation is very clear to you ; from his furrowed brows to his little whines to his growing hard on, his body is giving you many signs that he definitely wants you too. 

“Wanna take this a step further?” you whisper, lips brushing against his ear, his hair tickling your cheek. He nods.

“I-I’d like that…”

You giggle at his cuteness, then instruct him to take off his jeans, and that he does.

Nothing even has to be said to the boy ; he just lays down, already submitting to you before you have to instruct him to do anything. Gazing down at him warmly, you move to straddle his tummy, the squish of your thighs against his slender waist feeling heavenly. As you take in the sight beneath you, your breath hitches. This is exactly what you wanted. The dreamy boy’s skin glows in the sun, almost like a heavenly aura, and the daisies above his head are in the shape of a ring, almost like a halo. Angel really was the right nickname to choose for him, because that’s exactly what he is. A pretty little angel.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

The boy nods eagerly, eyes clouded with lust. You pet his soft hair then lift yourself up onto your knees, shuffling back a little bit in the grass so that you’re hovering over his pretty cock.

Of course, you weren’t going to give him what he wanted that easily.

You reach down and take his cock into your hand. You give it a firm squeeze and he whines, just like you wanted. You jerk it slowly, smirking as he babbles under his breath. 

“Don’ tease me, please…” he whispers, but you just shake your head - a wordless sign that you’re gonna do whatever you damn please, and he’s going to take it.

After a few minutes of teasing the boy with slow strokes and harsh squeezes, you finally lower yourself down onto his tip, grinning wickedly as he arches his back and cries out.

"P-please! More!" He yells, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. You giggle, gaining great satisfaction when he pouts.

"Don' mock me..." he mumbles, blinking back tears.

"How could I resist?" you say, tone laced with venom. "You're too easy to mock."

Before he can open his mouth to retort, you slam down onto his dick with a feral groan, revelling in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his head curls away from you. You pay no mind to the stretch ; the heat of the sun mixed with the burn in your groin makes you even hornier than you were before. On top of that, the boy looks even prettier than before with tears clumping his long, pretty lashes together. Not hesitating for a second, you grab his face and turn it towards you.

"Look at me,"

The boy whines, not opening his eyes. You grip his cheeks tighter, pushing his lips out into a pout and bringing his blood to the surface of his skin.

"I said look at me, slut."

At the insult, his eyes fly open, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. Chuckling, you let his face go, and his mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

He's about to say something, but then, without warning, you start moving your hips. And fast, too. As expected, he mewls, arms spasming and legs kicking. Between moans, you laugh. He's so fucking pathetic, and pathetic boys are so damn hot. You grind faster, placing your hands on his torso, running them over the expanse of his chest and the pudge of his tummy. As expected, his skin is the softest you’ve ever touched ; you feel like if you prodded it hard enough it would just tear, and the thought of this beautiful boy bruised and broken through the means of your fingertips makes you rut harder, moaning deep and loud. 

♡

Needless to say, you didn’t go easy on the poor boy. By the time you were done with him, he was panting on his back, near passing out from overstimulation and most likely also heat exhaustion.

Now, he was laying in your arms, cuddled into you. The two of you enjoyed your post-orgasm glow in silence, enjoying the peaceful sounds of nature, the heat of the sun, and the warmth of each other's bodies.

After fucking him, you had plucked a few daisies and woven them through his soft-but-sweaty locks, so now you were twirling the petals between your fingers, careful to be gentle so you didn’t accidentally pull a hair and hurt him.

“You’re not just gonna leave me here, are you?” he mumbles. He doesn’t sound too worried ; for some reason, he really does seem to trust you. How adorable.

Usually, you really would just… leave them there. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make the boys cum, you’d just chase your own high then leave them empty handed. But this boy was different. You couldn’t put your finger on why. He just was.

After kissing him on his forehead, you respond,

“No, little angel.” you press another kiss to his forehead. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

“Yay,” he whispers, a hint of giddiness in his voice. Smiling, you squish your cheek into his forehead, the sound of his lazy giggles making your heart warm. 

Maybe, just maybe, you wanna keep this one.

♡

[sstrwbrryccke]

— bullying him pt.3 | sub soobin

part 1 | part 2

tags: loser!nerd!soobin x bully!mean!reader, gn reader, possessive reader, mentions of possessive acts, pet play slightly, dubcon, tons of public humiliation, public sex, bullying, mutual pinning with heavy denial, both are obsessed for each other, unhealthy relationships, reader is pretty sadistic, foot on crotch, exhibitionism, handjob, multiple orgasms, public fondling, fluff at end

tag: @zuzuhasablog

you tapped an impatient foot on the ground, periodically checking your phone for the time. he was late by 2 minutes now, and you feel your irritation rise as you type snarky texts to him. how was it that you were the one who came early to the pity date? it was seriously ridiculous. shouldn’t he be on time to the date he looked forward to?

yn: where tf are you? loser: im sorry im sorry im so sorry im coming right now yn: im going to pull your hair out when i see you mutt. loser: im sorry please forgive me

if it turned out that he had stood you up, you were seriously going to rain hell on him. he’s going to get shoved into the locker, have his hair roughly grabbed and face thoroughly punched until he’s bloodied and bruised. though perhaps it wouldn't be that much of a punishment compared to your usual bedroom activities with him. he would probably enjoy the process too; as it meant all your attention was on him. you realised after a bit that he really was a desperate. masochistic. mutt. (or maybe he just craves your validation that badly)

just as you were cursing him out in your mind, you see a tall figure in the distance, stumbling and running towards you like the loser he is. you can tell he spots you as well because he quickly turns to the nearest reflective surface to fix his appearance and hair; even popping a mint in his mouth before running up to you. his face was pink, probably from the exercise— his plump lips pressing into an apologetic smile.

“sorry, i’m sorry i’m late.” he was slightly out of breath from running.

“sorry? fucking mutt. do you not respect my time? if you were any later i would’ve stood your ass up.” you shove him by the shoulder and he looks at you like a kicked dog.

he shakes his head profusely at your accusation, desperately trying to get back into your good favours.

“no— no! i’m, i, i’m so sorry. i respect your time, i’m so dumb i know.”

soobin degrades himself as he chews at his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t upset you enough for you to leave him. he had been thinking about this date all night, he could barely even get any sleep. if he messes up now he’ll never forgive himself!

“—you, you look amazing by the way.” he stammers, fingers fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“i always look like this.” you deadpan, you didn’t bother to dress up more than you usually do in your school uniform. the most you did was pick out a simple, trendy outfit and brush your hair. bare minimum really.

“yeah you always look- i mean no, not that you don’t look amazing, always, because you do! but you look extra. amazing. compared to, usual…” he awkwardly stammers, making it worse for himself. he decides to just shut up before he embarrasses himself more and you ghost him.

“shut up and start walking, you loser.”

he follows behind you eagerly, glad you still want to hang out with him even after the most embarrassing stumble of his life. though to be honest, he stumbles like this quite a lot, and for some reason, you tolerate it (with only a few snide comments here and there). it was a few quiet seconds of walking, him being too afraid to speak up and you taking sly glances at him.

“why were you late?” you break the air, his head was lowered the entire walk, but he raises his head with your question. he was clearly nervous and sheepish as he averted his gaze.

“i… was picking an outfit.”

you give him a doubtful look and he continues, stuttering. “i— i didn’t know what style you liked. and… and i was trying to comply to your requests.”

ohhh... right, the request. you snicker to yourself. you forgot about that. it was just a small throwaway statement you texted him with no real thought behind it. you wanted to see if he would really follow through or not.

“so? show me.”

he’s nervous again, arms bracing himself as he glances around to check for people. soobin mentally hypes himself up before he pulls down his white turtleneck, showing you the silver collar around his neck. you cover your mouth with an audible pfft, laughing at him and he quickly rolls his turtleneck back up. god he was so foolish, but so obedient and cute.

“and? what about my other request?”

he looks at you wide eyed, stammering. “i, i can’t show you that!”

“did you do it?”

he blushes, hands clutching the edge of your hoodie, looking at you through his bangs. “please not here…”

he begs and you feel your heart soar. fuck, who taught him to act so cute? since when did the nerd know how to play sly? you clutch his crotch to feel for his cock and he silently whimpers.

“you didn’t wear any underwear, good boy.”

he trembles, moving away from your touch to look around, hoping no one caught you two. but his heart was in his throat and he was so excited about the praise you gave. so you liked what he did? he was over the moon. ‘good boy’, he repeated in his head. ‘good boy’.

it was unbearably adorable watching the cogs in his head malfunction, and you had to control yourself from ravaging him right here and there. you take the moment to appreciate his appearance, it was pretty obvious without him having to say so that he put a lot of effort into his outfit. he was wearing stylishly rimmed glasses, a jean jacket with a soft-lined collar, a white turtleneck and black pants. he also managed to get his hair under control, bangs carefully styled and curled.

you always thought he had looks, but this just proved how stunning he could look if he cleaned himself up. everyone else seems to agree too, and you notice the unsubtle glances thrown towards soobin. he stands out, tall and lean with a bunny-like charm. a few girls whispered and giggled, clearly blushing about him. but the attention twisted something dark in your chest, it grasped and dug its filthy nails into your heart. you wanted to lock him in your room and never let him see the light of day ever again. it was an insane thought process, deranged and unhinged. he wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a victim. you needed to get a grip.

you clutch his wrist tightly, pulling him along so he walks faster. he winces at the hold but lets you roughly handle him because it’s almost like you two are holding hands. he stares longingly at your hand and his, wishing you would interlock them again like you did yesterday. when you reach the mall, you watch with silent satisfaction as his eyes rake over the stores. there was a subtle pride you felt seeing him enjoy the choice you made.

“we have some time to kill before the restaurant reservation.”

he looks at you, eyes wide and plump lips smiling, you could almost see his irises sparkling. stupidly hopeful eyes. “you made a reservation for me?”

“don’t look at me like that. i just dont want to wait in line.”

he turns his gaze back to the front as you demand, but you can tell he is still giddy, ecstatic that you put even a sliver of effort into the date. it really didn't take much to satisfy him. even the slightest attention had him trembling. the two of you explore the mall, and naturally, soobin’s nerdy ass is drawn to the anime and manga stores. you tail behind him, mindlessly noting each thing he stares or geeks at.

while he was shuffling through the array of mangas, you pick out a shirt with a few familiar characters on it; you faintly remember soobin mentioning this show when you asked about his phone background. you tap him on the shoulder to get his attention, pointing to the shirt. “isn’t this your favourite anime?”

“oh! it’s limited edition!” he gasps out, excitement in his tone. taking the shirt from your grasp. his eyes widen in glee as he examines the details. the joy didn't last however, and soon he was putting the shirt back on the racks with a meek smile.

you raise an eyebrow “thought you liked it, nerd?”

he shyly looks at you, “yeah, but it’s too expensive.” he admits, clearly embarrassed. he feels like he was parading around his misfortune, look at this loser! no friends, no lover and now he doesn’t even have money. choi soobin, born on this earth and destined to be a loser.

“i’ll buy it for you.” your words cut through his thoughts. his cute hopeful eyes look up at you, and you interrupt him before he could utter out another word.

“but, you need to try it on for me first.” you continue, a pointed look on your face.

he pause for a second, the request was innocent enough, right?

☆★☆

he should’ve known, nothing was innocent with you. that's why he’s standing in the middle of the changing room with you sitting in the corner. a smirk on your lips.

“strip.”

he hesitates, but slowly shrugs off his jean jacket, he’s done this many times in front of you, and you’ve explored every nook and cranny his body can offer. but he never ceases to feel shy in his own skin, especially when you observe him like a collector would with a jewel. maybe its the setting that’s making him bashful, it feels borderline illegal to do such an act in the mall. even though many people have stripped down naked in the changing room, the way you make him feel is so sinful.

he takes off his turtleneck, exposing his bare chest, the silver collar complimenting his pale skin beautifully. it wasn’t much of a striptease and more of an activity he had to get over and done with, but it was still extremely arousing for you. watching him debase himself in his casual clothing. normally you only saw him in his school uniform (bruised, injured, crying, fucked out of his mind and all other similar variants), but watching him in his own clothing made you feel so much more powerful. like you had control and dominance over him even outside of school.

he awkwardly stands in the middle, half-naked. waiting for your next command. it didn't even take that much to train him! naturally so obedient.

“take off your pants too.”

he whimpers at this, clutching at his pants but not making a move. he begs you with his eyes, take pity on him please! not here!

“i’m… not wearing anything underneath”

“i know, take it off.”

“i, i, no, it’s.” he stammers, sweaty hands staining his pants.

“no? are you saying no to me?”

he shivers at your tone, nervously gulping. this didn't seem good at all. “i—!”his ears ring, reverberating in his chest. his right cheek was stinging red. “wh—“

you slap him again.

“mutts don’t talk.”

he shuts up at this, tears threatening to spill onto his glasses. you pull him forward by the silver collar and he helplessly stumbles as you tug him around. you observe the red slap marks on his cheeks, intertwined with his blush.

“you’ve been disrespectful since the beginning of the date. first you show up late and now you refuse to do something so simple? are you trying to make me mad choi soobin?”

he shakes his head desperately, a tear slipping down. he must be the lowest scum of the earth, because the rougher you treat him, the tighter his pants get. he isn’t a masochist he swears, but your attention (no matter good or bad) on him feels so good. he was so touch and attention starved, desperate for any kind of recognition from you.

“i’ll only repeat myself once, strip.”

he stumbles up, shaky hands quickly peeling his pants off his legs. his already hard cock embarrassingly erect and dripping the moment it’s exposed.

“look at that.” you coo, slapping his dick, making precum drip to the floor as he cries. “pretending to be so shy and innocent while you’re sporting a rock hard boner.”

he snivels pathetically, shaking his head and making his hair tousle around. the silver collar glints like a gem in the light. you chuckle cruelly. “okay, put your limited edition shirt on now.”

he bites back a whimper, he wanted you to touch him so bad. but he obediently slips on the shirt, it feels so dull against his skin, barely covering his cock. soobin rubs his thighs together, now more interested in you rather than the shirt. he wanted you to adore and spoil him, hell, spank him and hurt him too— just anything!

as if you read his mind, your hand reaches out, before you could even touch him, he starts trembling. you pull back with an amused smile and he immediately begins to cry and beg.

“no— no please touch me please touch me i’m sorry, i, i wanna, i wanna be good for you please!”

“bunny can’t even keep quiet?” you tease, putting your hands behind your back and he whines. the nickname thumping in his heart.

he starts again, though this time he tries to control his voice, suddenly aware that you two were still in public— only hidden away by a thin curtain. his bottom lip quivers as he moves closer to you, fingers meekly reaching out to grasp your hoodie. he leans his head on your chest and a small weak whisper escapes his pink lips.

“you already own me… so please just touch me…”

a shiver runs down your spine, holy shit this was dangerous. playing sly at first and now coy? he had an effect on you that you weren’t sure you liked. “i get it already so shut up and come here.” you lowly groan, pulling his body flush against yours. he tremors out a whine as you roughly grab his cock. he couldn’t complain though, because your warm hands were embracing him and touching him exactly where he wants. he melts in your hold, face comfortably nestled in the crook of your neck as you played with his cock. his groans and whines die down in your shoulder, and the way you thumbed his slit was almost domestic.

fuck what was this pathetic man doing to you? here you are in the changing rooms, letting this loser hug and sniffle into your shoulder as you jerk him off. the whole situation was bizarre and you were starting to feel lightheaded. weren't he supposed to be the one servicing you?

you press down on his cockhead particularly hard and he cries into your neck, biting the collar of your hoodie as you slide his cock underneath the limited edition shirt, rubbing him with the friction of the fabric. this sets him off, the motion just felt way too good, he keens into your fist, panting into your shoulder as he holds your hoodie tightly.

it was taking a little more than usual to make him orgasm, normally you would describe his orgasm speed as 'embarrassingly fast', but he seemed to be holding out for some reason. you give his cock an experimental squeeze and he just digs his face into your neck more. then it hits you, you haven’t given him permission yet. could he have been waiting for your verbal confirmation? maybe that's why he was squinting his eyes so tightly and biting down on your collar. just the thought itself sparked heat in your lower regions. it satisfied you more than you would like to admit.

so you lean down to where he was tucked, breath touching his ear.

“come for me”

it was a simple test on a guinea pig, cause and effect.

you eye him down as his body quivers, face flushing a thousand shades of red with an embarrassing amount of saliva wetting your hoodie collar. right after the command he releases, cock jittery and shaky as it spurts out come into the limited edition shirt. he finally lets go of your hoodie, taking a second to gain back his strength. when he comes to clarity, you can see the panic set in his throat. staring at the ruined limited edition shirt.

"what do we do? it's dirty now!"

"we buy it, what else?"

he hesitates and you raise a brow. "but, the, cashier she might, see this."

he vaguely gestures to the come stain on the shirt, right above his now flaccid cock.

"so? hurry up and change."

soobin seems troubled at your nonchalant response, but changes back to his outfit as you asked, timidly holding the ruined limited edition shirt. you shove the dollar bills in his hand.

"go up to the cashier, and pay."

somehow he summons up the courage to walk up to the counter, trying to ignore the feeling of his dick making contact with the rough jean fabric each time he took a step. it was all smooth at first, he let the cashier scan the item (making sure the stained patch was hidden), paid with the cash and felt the relief of freedom just as the cashier took the shirt to bag.

only for her to pause, soobin feels his palms clamber with sweat. she was staring at the shirt, an unreadable expression on her face before her eyes meet back with his.

"sir, it seems this shirt is stained."

god please just strike him down already.

"oh." he feels so dumb, only able to let out a sound in response. his tongue wasn't cooperating, how was he going to explain? what could he say? what should he say?

"ugh," the sound of exasperation makes him jolt. she's disgusted. she's definitely disgusted and he can never show his face in this store again.

"—it seems like the only one in stock. i'm so sorry for that sir."

she still doesn't know a thing. his heart was threatening to jump out of his throat. "it's, it's alright." his words came out weaker than he would've liked.

"are you sure si—"

"yes! yes! please give me that!" he couldn't help his sudden outburst, snatching the item from the poor lady's hands and running off in the opposite direction. he was dying from humiliation and his feet carried him like the wind over to you. he bit back tears as he faced you, bashfully showing you the receipt. it was times like this when he wishes he wasn't so tall, it would be so much easier to hide away in shame.

"what happened?" your introspective voice came through, he could hear your smirk.

"she saw the stain" he had to use all his willpower not to cry, hands clutching onto the shirt tightly. it was humiliating to admit, but a small part of him felt relief in his confession— as if the natural progression was for you to give him comfort and ease his anxieties.

"look at you soobin, so embarrassed and ashamed of your come stained shirt." you coo in your familiarly condescending yet comforting tone and he folds, nodding in agreement, tears brimming in his eyes. you rub his cheek, which was still red from the slap. it was such a surprisingly caring act that surprised both you and him, but he melted into your touch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"you were so obedient bunny, let's go to the restaurant." he dumbly bobbed his head at the nickname. all he could think was how the humiliation was so worth the reward.

☆★☆

the cafe was packed, but it wasn't a big problem in the private booth. you tap your finger on the counter as you watch soobin go through the menu for the fifth time now. indecisive was his middle name.

"hurry up."

"what do you want?"

he's asked this for a millionth time now, could he really not decide without your input? the waiter has been standing there for a good minute. "dude, just choose what you want already. i'm getting impatient."

he purses his lips in clear panic, pointing to a random food item on the menu. "i'll, i'll have this!"

"an extra spicy jjamppong coming up." the waiter escapes quickly, leaving soobin with an exasperated and intimidated expression after having his order read out for him.

"what? loser can't handle spice?" you tease. he looks at you with a frown.

"i can eat spice!"

"right." the conversation ends there, but you weren't just going to just let him off like that. the table was so nicely set up after all, such a thick tablecloth.

"soobin, pull down your pants."

he immediately widens his eyes, looking around rapidly to see if anyone heard. "i, i don't know i,"

"calm down, no one can see under the tablecloth. pull it down." you rest your foot on his inner thigh, signalling to him. he lets out a shaky breath. your grin broadens as his hands travel down, shuffling his pants down to his knees. still paranoid, he takes another glance at the other customers.

you focus on something else entirely, your trailing foot to his exposed crotch to be exact. when the leather of your soles makes impact with his naked cock he wails before slapping a hand over his mouth. his thighs instinctively clamp around your foot, shivering and shaking his head. "mean, you're mean."

his bottom lip was quivering, thighs still clamped tightly as you pressed your foot down harder. "please." he whispers.

"hm?"

"please please ple—"

"here's your orders." the waiter interrupts with both of your orders, soobin glances at the man with terrified eyes, looking over at you in a silent prayer.

you smile graciously (you press harder on his cock) as you take the plates (his thighs shake and you rub your foot ever so slightly), what a nice waiter, of course, you had to start a conversation! (he tried to control his panting but his face was a scarlet red), turns out the waiter was born in japan, how very interesting (you start going in a circular motion and soobin nearly keens), his father met his mother during a road trip! (you knew from his expression that he was already leaking onto your shoes), wow and he's fluent in three languages (soobin's thighs are spasming and you were rubbing him hard, you can tell he couldn't hold it in anytime soon).

"it all started when i encountered a multilingual tourist as a child."

the conversation was a little redundant now, wasn't it? you were talking to the waiter, yet staring intensely at soobin in the eyes, a snicker on your lips. "come again?" you press down, and his body shudders, thighs so tightly squeezed around your foot it could almost cut circulation, he was curled in ever so slightly. shivering in the aftereffects of his second orgasm today.

"huh?" the confused tone of the waiter piques.

"nevermind, thank you for your time."

the waiter leaves, slightly befuddled by the conversation. while you turn your attention back to soobin who is breathing heavily with red-tinted cheeks. "wow, orgasming in a public space again, what a perv."

the words hit him hard in his chest and tears drop from his eyes, he could only let out a small 'sorry' in shame before dropping his head down. his sleeves come up to desperately wipe at his eyes and save some face, at least it was all over now and he could enjoy his meal in peace, hopefully!

"can... can i pull my pants back up now?"

"hmm can you?" you tease, and he pauses, unsure of how to approach the situation.

"can i please?" some begging would do the trick, right?

"you can if you jerk yourself off."

he pouts, and more tears drop on the table as he squeezes his thighs around your foot. but he obediently slides his hands down to try and make himself hard again. his cock was so so so sensitive to the sensation, but limp in his hands. it hurts to stroke, it hurts to touch. the longer it took for him to get it up the more he frowned and panicked.

finally, you had enough, you were just playing with him anyway, so you slide your foot off with a chuckle. he looks at you in confusion. "i was joking dumbass, put your pants back on."

you dig into your food, and soobin follows suit right after he shuffles his pants back on, looking up at you hesitantly. though the moment the food touched his tongue, all he could think was—spicy! now he was crying for an entirely different reason, he was never the strongest spice contender, and this was another league of spice.

you notice his discomfort, laughing when he ducks his head down. "too spicy?" "no..." he responds, surprisingly stubborn on this matter. he pettily eats another spoonful of noodles (swiftly to regret it). you just roll your eyes, watching him eat in amusement.

☆★☆

the date ended smoothly after, nothing else notable happened (other than some pervy touches and teasing from your side), back at your room again (it was a common occurrence for the two of you to stay in your room, he told you once he didn't enjoy staying in his home).

you flopped onto your bed while soobin shuffled in, putting his things neatly to the side and closing the door behind him. he stared at you as you typed messages to your friends (they had been filling up your notifications all day because you were ignoring them), he awkwardly stood near the foot of the bed.

"uhm, i, thank you, for today. i had fun." he starts bashfully.

"so you don't have fun with me every other day?" you deadpan and he stutters, being caught off guard.

"n—no that's, not what i—"

"i wasn't serious, idiot."

he shuts his mouth quickly, silent again and unsure of how to start up another conversation.

"god you're such a loser. look in that bag over there." you break the air, pointing to a grey bag you had been carrying for the whole day. he was curious about it but wasn't brave enough to ask. so when you gave him the go-ahead he didn't hesitate to dig his hand in. when he pulled out a box containing a figurine from his favourite anime, clear confusion was evident in his face.

"i didn't know you liked—"

"no shithead it's for you."

his mouth drops open, bunny-like eyes widening as your words start to register in his head. instantly he lights up visibly, smiling uncontrollably as he admires the figurine in his hands. it wasn't anything crazy, was rather affordable compared to the prices of other figurines, but soobin's heart soared at the gift and he felt like he was on cloud nine. you didn't pay attention to his reaction, or that's how it seemed, because you were secretly staring at every differing expression on his face.

"thank you... i, thank you so much..."

"it's not even a big deal, you're so dramatic."

but it was a big deal for soobin, he tenderly held the gift in his hands. this was the first time he's gotten anything from anyone other than his parents and occasionally aunt and uncle. it really did feel like the two of you were dating, even if nothing is official and the most accurate label on the relationship was 'bully and victim'.

"can i unwrap it?"

"i don't care."

he slowly unwraps the gift, taking the figurine out of the box carefully as he begins to admire all the details of the sculpture. you, on the other hand, admire him, no matter how much you deny it, there was something so addicting about both his happiness and pain. it hooked you on like a drug.

"sleep over."

he knew what you meant, in a seemingly harmless phrase. it often happened like this, an insignificant and passing statement. strange in retrospect, you were his bully and the door was right there, if soobin wanted to, he could make a run for it.

but the both of you knew he wouldn't. your attention was almost an obsession to him, no matter how good or bad.

"okay."

[imrllytootiredforthis]

any thoughts abt yandere beomgyu or taehyun? 👀

gn!reader

warnings: yandere subs, dom reader, reader is kinda (really) mean, bully beomgyu (for beomgyu's part), bully reader (for taehyun's part), it's smut with a sub yandere so more stuff along those lines, etc.

beomgyu:

i will preach the sub bully yandere beomgyu until the day that i die-

he's such a spoiled, conceited brat that feels like he can step on anyone he deems 'deserves it' and get whatever he wants with the point of his finger

until he meets you,

who will put up with none of his bullshit, giving him none of the reaction of what he wants but maybe that's what makes him so interested in you

maybe it's the fact that he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions in a proper manner

or the fact that he's head over heels for you but doesn't know how to show it other than jeering at you in the hallways, calling you names as you walk by

but he quickly realizes that maybe you're not the best person to try to torment (pt.1 and pt.2 of previous bully!beomgyu)

because as mean as he can be, he knows you can be so much meaner than him

but maybe he likes that a little too much

even after all that he continues his little games, seeing just how far he can go, just how far he can piss you off until you're on him, making him 'regret ever being such a little bitch'-his words, not yours

he starts rumours about you, nasty ones that you can't seem to shake from the others susceptible to his influence

they'll believe anything he tells the, all because he has a pretty face and a self-acclaimed big dick

(which is, admittedly, partially true but you'd never tell him or anyone else that)

it would be a shock to anyone, really,

that beomgyu,

the guy who badmouths and bullies you on a daily basis,

tripping you in the halls and sticking crude things to your locker, causing problems and pointing the finger in your direction.

no would suspect that he,

is nothing but a whore on his knees for you behind closed doors, willing to do anything and everything for you to call him a few names.

that he sits on his knees on the tile floor of the dirty bathrooms after school, long after people have left for the day but not late enough that there won't be a few who've stayed behind for whatever other reason

that he gets off to this very idea, face red with the humiliation of it all.

moaning and whining under the eyes of the once again beomgyu - acclaimed 'school slut', fisting his cock as he desperately tries to get off,

begging, pleading with you to just touch him, just please, please, please bring him some relief.

you only roll your eyes, tugging his head back by his hair.

and he loves the fact all too much that he can see the anger that's been simmering in your eyes for weeks finally bubble to the surface. the sadistic mean side that you keep hidden from everyone else

"and why should i touch you?" your voice is a sneer that makes his cock throb in his hand. "because i'm a whore who slept with the teacher to get good grades?"

his eyes are wide, needy, greedy.

he's too used to getting whatever he wants. he's too used to people falling to their knees around him just because he's a rich boy with a pretty face.

"just, didn't want anyone else to want you-" he pants, your fingers threading through the all too soft strands of his hair. "you're mine."

"No."

he lets out a yelp when your shoe nudges against his dick,

rough and so fucking dirty but it's you and you're finally, finally touching him

you need to teach him a lesson.

"i'm not yours. and you're fucking dumb if you think i am."

one that he won't forget

"because why would i be if i was just a 'good fuck' but had some weird kinks." you laugh dryly, remembering the glint in his eyes as he stared you down, whispers formulating all around the hall about you and him.

"the irony, that you're spread out on the ground of the bathroom floor like some kind of dog, panting and begging for a treat from me? calling you a pathetic whore? and i'm the one with the weird kinks here."

you scoff

"you wish i let your pathetic dick anywhere near me, much less fuck me down into a mattress."

he can barely focus on what you're saying,

only on the feeling of your foot grinding down onto him.

he should find this demeaning,

disgusting,

wrong.

he should shove you away and get the fuck out of here with whatever decency he has left.

but he doesn't have any.

he enjoys this more than he could ever shamelessly admit, being here under your mercy

forced to be down onto his knees, stepping down on his dick as you degrade him

he could never say it aloud

but it isn't that hard to see from body language alone

the way he looks up at you with hearts in his eyes, as if you're some kind of god, blessing him with your very presence

adoration

and awe

and pure and utter love.

every cruel word dripping from your lips like honeyed venom, making his heart beat faster and his cock throb harder.

"you're fucking disgusting."

his hands fly around to grip onto your thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants,

eyes lidding in bliss

"imagine if they could all see you now, spread out like this. would they idolize you then?"

he could lie and say that he didn't like it when you pulled his head back, fingers pressing into his jaw to open his mouth up,

before spitting on his tongue.

be it would be so obviously a lie.

he could also lie and say that he didn't go dumb at the taste of your saliva on his tongue, swirling around with his own before dripping down his throat

-it's the closest he's ever gotten to actually kissing you

he could say that he didn't, embarrassingly cum all over himself from it, letting out a strangled cry as ropes of it stain onto his ridiculously expensive shirt and pants

and your shoe

all while his eyes never leave yours.

looking up at you with the devotion of being the only thing that can manage to make his heart beat this fast

"now lick it off, you dog."

taehyun:

and you know what?

for the sake of these, let's just have it the opposite way for taehyun.

mean, bully reader who taunts him all day, calling him names and cornering in the hallways.

shy, lone tae who lets it happen, his head turned down, his cheeks stained pink when you do,

you didn't even realize him in the beginning, scurrying past you when you were mean to others, laughing with your friends

but he always knew you

watching you as you disinterestedly twirled a pencil through your fingers, two seats away from his

he could say from the very beginning that you interested him far beyond what was probably appropriate-but he couldn't help himself

not when he couldn't stop thinking about you, imagining the condescending tone you used directed at him for once

that sneer on your face, the look of disgust or the sadistic smile. you were gorgeous every way.

and he couldn't even restrain himself picking up his old digital camera he'd used years ago before getting bored, blowing the dust off it

and using to take pictures of you

people noticed him a bit more after that, not by much but the big camera always present in his hands or around his neck garnered it's fair share of attention

you noticed him, finally

glanced at him out of the corner of your eye in the hall or in class, but you never fully acknowledged him, never talked him

but for awhile a few looks were enough, his pictures were enough

until they weren't.

he needed more.

he needed you to look at him.

to be mean to him.

to notice him.

and you definitely did when he seemed to trip out of nowhere right in front of you and your friends,

pictures spilling out of his bag from the impact, spreading out all of the linoleum floor for everyone to see

You.

you smiling, you laughing, you frowning and glaring and sneering.

in class, on your route home, in your home.

pictures taken through a window of you half undressing, getting into bed, eating.

you stared at the photos...

before your gaze turned to him...

with everything he'd ever wanted.

finally your sights were set on him.

the word perv was thrown around, stalker and creep.

he liked them when they were from you

but those were nothing compared to the other things you'd do to him.

things he'd do for you without a second thought.

taunts were not enough. rumours he'd done a well enough job creating on his own. the rest was left up to you to fill.

you took his camera. he hasn't seen it since.

he doesn't care.

he has something much better now.

you. in the flesh. in front of him.

you had your own name for him too.

"dog."

that was perhaps his favourite.

yours too it seemed.

you thought it fit well to him.

his eyes wide, almost puppy-like when you approach him in the hallways.

you're not supposed to be here, technically he's not supposed to either.

not a peep of protest when face to face with you,

smirking toothily as you back him up into a wall, so close your nose nearly touches his, your hand resting on the wall over his shoulder, successfully trapping him in place.

he likes this position too much, even if he squirms away from your touch.

"Do you have it?"

taehyun is the type of guy you could bully for the answers to the homework or a project, but that would be too easy

you could steal his things and beat him until you were satisfied but that would probably be easier, still

it wouldn't appease that fire curling in the pit of your stomach when you see his lip quiver and his eyes flutter with unshed tears,

coincidentally it didn't appease that masochistic side to him either, the side that liked that fire in your eye when you made him do another embarrassing act

but maybe part of him that you liked so much was the willingness he had, the devotion he had to you,

following you around like a lost puppy,

at your beck and call whenever you wanted or needed him and even when you didn't.

he sits alone in his room, staring at your contact in his phone waiting for the next time you decide you're bored and want to make his life a living hell once more

coincidentally, lighting his life up once more

in some ways he needed you

and in other ways you needed him

the power trip that it gave you, knowing he'd get down on his knees in front of you and kiss your shoes, not because he was scared of you but because he loved to do it just as much as you loved to order it

"y-yeah, i have it."

he pulls something out of his bag, holding it out to you.

a small device, nothing special but the small plus and minus on it

you smirk. and slowly you let your eyes travel down the length of his body.'

"good boy~"

was it natural to feel a chest palpitation

when you call him that?

when you look at him with those eyes?

when you're so mean to him?

why does it only make his heart flutter?

"so what happens if I..."

you click your tongue at the exact moment your slide your finger down to click the plus button up,

click,

click,

click,

his body jolts, a rush of heat spreading throughout his body.

the toy vibrates inside of him, just for you.

click,

he clenches his jaw tight, trying not to make a sound under your eyes

"too much!" he squeaks.

you tilt your head to the side.

click.

he lets out a dry sob, body trembling against the wall, shaky legs only being kept upright by your hips pinning him to the surface.

"oh baby," a finger pushes his chin up, brushing over his pulse point and adam's apple before forcing his eyes onto yours.

"don't be a wimp now~"

you move in, close and for a momentary second of bliss he thinks you'll press your lips against his and fulfill the nasty wish of being touched by his bully for all too long

his eyes fall shut, lips parted in quiet pants

but you don't come.

you only laugh.

click.

"it's only too much when i say it's too much, puppy~"

his head spins. his eyes squeeze shut harder

and suddenly he hears a different click, more of a flash if he had to place it-

-a shudder?

he pries his eyes open to see you standing there still, somehow seeming to tower above him despite being the same height.

with his camera in hand.

"look at the camera puppy~"

and so he does

he whines, glazed over eyes staring directly at the lens, the utter adoration seeping through into the photo when you eventually print this out and keep to look at whenever you want

and he pants, just like the pathetic puppy he is

but he's your puppy now

click.

a/n: :)