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mercurygguk · 1 year

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if it’s not you · kth (m)

↳ summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it.

pairing; taehyung x f. reader

word count; 8,582

rating; 18+

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst, a bit of fluff

warnings; making out, dirty talk, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, possessive/jealous and slightly insecure taetae <3

chapters. part one | part two

↳ listen to the playlist here.

author’s note; it’s here!!!! the taehyung fic i’ve been wanting to write for SO long ughhhdjsk i really hope you like it and that you enjoy it despite all the hurt and angst heh – please let me know what you think! comment, reblog, send me an ask – whatever you feel most comfortable with!! everything is greatly appreciated <3 thank you sm for reading muah

ps. a big thank you to @kookingtae once again for beta-ing for me and for helping me brainstorm for the smut scene <33 ur the best ily thank you for your support and help!

Kim Taehyung is not sad.

Sadness is not what he feels when he goes out with his friends and spots two people all over each other, happy and in love. Sadness is not what he feels when he sits at home, watching a movie by himself. Sadness is not what he feels when his friends tell him they’re engaged and are having an engagement party to celebrate.

No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness.

If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when he’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don’t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.

Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.

He thought that he wouldn’t give two shits when he saw you walk through the door, arriving at the engagement party his friends are currently throwing. He also thought that he wouldn’t care that some unknown guy was trailing right behind you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

But Taehyung should’ve known better.

He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.

Two years ago…

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. He begged you, the unsteady tone of his voice giving away that he was on the brink of breaking down if you didn’t connect your lips with his within the next few seconds. He was desperate, breathing heavily as he tried his best to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.

The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he didn’t realize though when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this until you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.

How you ended up in the bedroom, cuddling and now almost kissing, was unbeknownst to him and you as well. Taehyung had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as you packed your remaining things in utter silence. When you were finished and wanted to give him one last goodbye hug, he had made the first move to urge you onto the bed with him. It’s not that he had bad intentions with it. He just needed to hold you one last time before you’d move on for good. Cuddles then turned into him pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist, begging and pleading for you to kiss him.

“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”

“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”

[end of flashback]

Two years since he last saw you and talked to you. Two years of losing every ounce of belief he had in ‘the great love’ of life. Why continue to look for love when he already had the love of his life and lost her?

In Taehyung’s head, there was no reason to look for love when the person he loved more than life itself left him with only half a heart to live by two years ago. Even if he wanted to find another great love, it simply wouldn’t be possible. He lives with only half of his heart and you can’t love someone with just half a heart.

Not when someone else has the other half.

“Hey, isn’t that ____?”

Taehyung is pulled from his thoughts by Jimin, his best friend since high school and the only person who would be able to recognize his ex-girlfriend from miles away – even after two years have gone by.

“Yep,” Taehyung curtly replies and brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip. The heavy, dark taste of whiskey burns his throat on the way down but he welcomes it, suddenly in desperate need of feeling something that isn’t the tug on the strings of his half heart.

Jimin’s face scrunches up in confusion, “who’s the guy?”

I don’t know, Jimin. Does it look like I’ve stayed in touch with her since she walked out on me? Do you think she’d be across the room, in another man’s embrace, if I had stayed in touch with her?

Instead of saying that, Taehyung shrugs ‘carelessly’ and takes another sip of his drink, eyes following you as you and your date move towards the newly-engaged couple.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

You look so different and yet the exact same.

Every move of your body and expression on your face twist in the most beautiful, hypnotizing way as always. Your hair is shorter, he notices, but it suits you. You’re glowing from across the room and your smile lights up the entire apartment when you throw your head back in laughter.

It travels across the room and reaches Taehyung’s ears, cutting straight through the music flowing from the stereo. The pretty sound causes his chest to fill with a familiar warmth. Except this time it isn’t him who’s on the receiving end of your smile and gentle touch; your date is. As much as it bothers him, Taehyung can’t stop watching you as you talk with the hosts, wishing them congratulations on their engagement, and handing them the gift you brought along. And then you introduce the man next to you, a bright smile on your face as you watch them shake hands.

Something vile rises within Taehyung at the sight. He knows he has no right to feel like this but something about the way you’re introducing this random guy to you and Taehyung’s shared friends doesn’t sit right with him. It used to be you and him, attending every get-together together. You always arrived hand in hand, all smiles and good vibes because nothing could stop the two of you from touching each other, from being attached at all times – from being in love.

“Jia didn’t mention anything about a new boyfriend,” Jimin mutters from next to Taehyung. The annoyed glare he shoots at his best friend causes Jimin to shrug innocently, “I mean – I think, of all people, she would know if ____ was seeing someone.”

Jia is a shared friend between you and Jimin. While Jia is one of your best friends, Jia and Jimin are more than friends but not quite enough to be considered a couple. They will get there eventually – Jimin just needs to get his head out of his own ass and ask the poor girl on a date instead of only showing up at her doorstep for some fun in bed. Jia is waiting patiently for him to make the next move but Jimin isn’t that smart when it comes to serious relationships.

“Don’t you have something else to do rather than talking my ear off about my ex and her date?”

The bitterness on Taehyung’s tongue feels odd but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen you once in two years after you left that night and now you’re here, looking beautiful as ever with another man by your side.

Jealousy has never been something Taehyung cared much for. He never had a reason to but as you let your date wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer, the jealousy washes away every rational thought he’s had since he saw you walk through the door.

Jimin mumbles something under his breath before he disappears from Taehyung’s side, leaving him to stand there while rolling the glass of whiskey in his hand, dark and glaring eyes shooting daggers at the man you brought along tonight.

However, it seems his glare from across the room also grazes you as you turn your head to look around. Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat when your eyes meet his and he can tell you let out a gasp once you realize just who exactly you’re locking eyes with. Your date asks you if something’s wrong and you shake your head in response, telling him it’s nothing.

Taehyung’s body heats up with a familiar tingling feeling that feels all too normal and yet it’s a strange sensation. He hasn’t felt what he just felt in two years, the different women he’s slept with or been out with have never once caused warmth and excitement to spread through his entire body as the ones he just felt. Not a single woman has managed to trigger Taehyung’s interest in more than just a one-night-stand.

But, of course, it’s you.

Who else would light a fire in his soul but the same woman who blew it out a few years ago?

The irony almost makes Taehyung huff out an unimpressed chuckle. He fights it and pushes it back but it's no use as you decide to raise your hand and give him a small wave, a hesitant smile on your lips as you do. Taehyung lets the chuckle leave him, shaking his head in disbelief, watching your smile falter into a soft frown.

You left him.

You walked out of the door two years ago and dropped off earth’s surface until tonight. Taehyung only knew you were alive and well thanks to social media and your circle of shared friends, not that it was much help. His so-called friends weren't very cooperative every time he’d ask about you. Especially when he would visit Jimin and Jia would be there – that woman kept all the news about you behind locked lips whenever Taehyung was around.

So, when it really comes down to it, Taehyung has no idea what you've been doing for two years. All he knows is that you went overseas to live and work there, making the distance between you and him bigger than he’d expected when he watched you walk out of the home you once shared. Taehyung doesn’t understand why you bolted out of the country as soon as you could – what you went looking for, he doesn’t know. Probably no one knows – except for your parents maybe.

All Taehyung is hoping for is that he wasn’t the reason.

Thoughts like ‘how long have you been seeing this guy’ and ‘did you even think about me once while you were overseas, living a brand new life’ fill Taehyung’s head as he downs the rest of his drink. He steals one last glance at you, catching your eyes for a split-second before heading towards the kitchen of this penthouse apartment he currently finds himself in. He can feel your eyes on him as he slips his way through other guests but he keeps his own eyes focused on the whiskey bottle he spots on the kitchen island.

Once he reaches it, he uncaps it and pours himself another glass. He takes a swig of the brown liquor, sighing deeply as he feels the strong and burning sensation in his throat.

“Slow down there, tiger.”

Taehyung freezes in his spot, his glass of whiskey halfway to his lips to take another slurp when a familiar voice fills the kitchen. His chest tightens for a split-second before he turns around to face the person he’s been thinking about non-stop since she left.

You’re flashing a smile at him when he turns around, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes as your real smile would. He notices because he always notices. It’s one of the many things you can’t hide from him. No matter how much you try to plaster on a fake smile, he’ll always know when it’s real or not.

When he doesn’t reply to your teasing comment, you pull your lips into a thin line as you cautiously step closer.

He can’t stop staring at you.

When you left your shared home two years ago on the worst night of Taehyung’s life, he had no idea when he would see you again. Back then he had hoped you’d regret your choice of moving out and come back to him, tell him that you made a mistake, that not being with him was the only thing you couldn’t get yourself to do.

But it never happened – and two years passed.

“How have you been?” You ask, voice small and careful as if you’re afraid he’ll scream at you and throw all his pent up anger at you as the first thing.

Taehyung finally manages to take his eyes off you, shifting them to look at the glass of whiskey in his hand. He swirls the liquid around a few times before looking up again, a faint and slightly sad smile on his face.

“Okay,” he responds. “Given the circumstances, that is.”

He can tell that you know exactly what he means, the frown on your face giving it away. It makes a short chuckle leave his lips because it’s kind of comical how you haven’t seen each other in two years and the first time you meet again is at an engagement party – the type of party you were both so sure you’d throw sooner or later had it not been for the fact that the universe wanted it differently.

“You brought a date,” Taehyung breaks the silence hanging over you.

Your lips part in surprise. You did not expect your ex-boyfriend to ask about your date, but then again, you should’ve seen it coming.

“Uh, yeah, he’s–” you begin, not sure what or where to start. Taehyung watches you intently, curious to hear your response. You feel a strong urge to explain yourself to him, why you don’t know. “It’s nothing serious– it’s very new, so…”

“I see,” Taehyung hums and takes another sip of his whiskey, the alcohol still burning and strong on his tongue.

“Hey, about–,” you begin but the shake of Taehyung’s head causes you to stay quiet.

“We don’t have to do that,” he simply says. You frown deeply as he glances over your shoulder at your date. “I’m over it and it seems you are too.”

“But–”

“It’s good to see you again, ____.”

With that Taehyung grabs the half empty bottle of whiskey off the table and leaves the kitchen, a breath of relief escaping him. It’s gonna take a lot of alcohol to get through tonight with you being in the same room, so close yet so far – not his to touch or hold, the only thing that is his are the memories of doing exactly that in the past.

And nothing has ever left a more bitter taste in his mouth before.

As the party carries on, Taehyung has been drinking more whiskey. He’s not drunk per say but he’s definitely tipsy and it shows as he stands in a corner alongside Jimin and Namjoon. He’s not paying attention to their conversation, too busy watching you and your date mingling.

Taehyung is not much for admitting it but he’s been keeping an eye on your date all night, watching how he acts around you. He’s not afraid to touch you, that’s for sure, the constant placement of his hand on your lower back is a giveaway. However, he hasn’t seen the two of you kiss or anything of the sort ever since you arrived. It’s odd because, of all people, Taehyung knows that you’re not one to shy away from PDA. You were never big on it but you never despised it either.

“Tae, stop staring,” Jimin’s voice penetrates his focused thoughts. Taehyung tears his eyes from you to look at his best friend. Jimin gives him a look, one he can’t help but laugh at. Taehyung pushes himself up from his leaning position against the wall, standing to his full height. Jimin grabs his arm. “I’m serious, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“Relax,” Taehyung smirks. “I’m just gonna introduce myself, that’s it.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink, “sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Exactly,” Jimin pointedly agrees with him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Taehyung shrugs off Jimin’s hand, shooting his friends a glare, “I’m not gonna ruin anything.”

Before his friends can try and talk him out of it again, he wanders off towards you and your date – a dark-haired guy who seems friendly, boring even, and nothing like the type of guy Taehyung had imagined you’d go for.

You don’t notice Taehyung’s presence until he’s standing right next to you, offering a hand to your date. Your eyes widen in surprise, eyes shifting between your ex-boyfriend, his offered hand and your date for the night. You can’t help the small sliver of panic within your chest as you watch them interact.

“Hey man, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he greets him, “I’m Taehyung.”

“Jinyoung,” your date replies, giving Taehyung’s hand a weak shake without much thought. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Taehyung smirks, eyeing Jinyoung up and down for a moment, wondering where on earth you managed to run into this guy and why you thought of bringing him to your friends’ engagement party. The majority of the people here know you and once this guy isn’t part of your life anymore, you’ll spend your energy explaining why at the next event.

“Taehyung is, um…” You begin, turning to Jinyoung to provide some information as to why he would suddenly come over and introduce himself like this. “He’s my, uh–”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung finishes for you. He watches in satisfaction as Jinyoung’s eyes widen in surprise, the faint hints of intimidation evident in them. “We broke up two years ago.”

“Oh, well, I had no idea there was an… ex-boyfriend,” Jinyoung trails off, glancing at you in confusion.

Your attention, however, is aimed at Taehyung, “Tae, can we talk–”

“Did you know ____ fled the country after breaking up with me?” Taehyung lets out a sarcastic laugh, watching how Jinyoung almost squirms in discomfort. Bet he didn’t sign up for a meeting with the ex-boyfriend when he said yes to join you tonight. “Is that where she met you or?”

Your jaw tightens as you place a hand on Taehyung’s arm, catching his attention. He glances at your hand and then you, eyes meeting yours. He notices the desperation in them, the grip you have on his arm.

“Can I talk to you under four eyes? Now, please.”

He smiles at you, a tipsy smile but endearing nonetheless.

“Absolutely,” he tells you before glancing back at Jinyoung. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”

Jinyoung looks confused and awkward as Taehyung flashes him a fake smile before allowing himself to be dragged away by you. It isn’t until you’re in a secluded corner of your friends’ penthouse, you let go of his arm. Taehyung leans against the wall, a small smirk on his face as you stare at him for a moment before your face morphs into disbelief.

“What the hell was that all about?”

He shrugs, “I was just introducing myself.”

You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest, “oh, is that what it was? How silly of me to think you were trying to measure your dick with his!”

He huffs out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t have to and you know it.”

Your mouth falls open at his cocky behavior. Whoever this man in front of you is, you don’t know him. He is not the man you broke up with two years ago, he’s not even a shadow of the man you were hopelessly in love with once.

Taehyung watches your expression fall as if realization hits you square in the face. His ego covers it up perfectly but it hurts seeing the realization on your face, his heart sinking to his stomach as he realizes himself what you just realized –neither of you are the same people you were two years ago. And for some reason that realization hurts more than he thought it would because change is supposed to be good, right?

“Maybe breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake after all,” you tell him, eyes filled with disappointment and hurt. Taehyung frowns as the words leave your lips. “You’re an asshole.”

“____, I–”

You shake your head before turning on your heel, heading back to Jinyoung who’s been watching the two of you with worried eyes. Taehyung catches Jinyoung’s gaze over your shoulder, the judgemental look he shoots at him bruising his ego. However, the sight of your hand slipping into Jinyoung’s bruises his heart as he watches you and your date bid the engaged couple goodbye before leaving the penthouse.

Hand in hand.

Loud knocking wakes Taehyung up the following morning. He squints an eye open, the bright light coming from the morning sun hitting him straight in the face. He lets out a low groan, dropping his head back into the softness of his pillows. He forgot to pull the curtains when he came home last night. It happens too often after a night out – a bad habit, really.

The knocking disappears for a moment before it returns, more persistent this time around. With a sigh, Taehyung gets himself out of bed, slipping on a t-shirt and sweatpants before sauntering towards his front door.

Who in the world could be rapping their knuckles on his door this early on a sunday morning?

He glances towards the kitchen, eyes squinting to read the red numbers on the oven. His eyebrows lift in surprise. It’s not morning anymore, it’s past noon and someone is very persistent on the other side of the door. Once he reaches the door, he sneaks a peek through the peephole, breath hitching in his throat when he realizes who’s on the other side. His forehead connects with the surface of the door as a low ‘fuck’ leaves his lips.

Inhaling sharply, he grabs the door handle and pulls the door open.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

Taehyung sees no point in greeting you first, the question flying from his mouth before he can process it properly. He’s surprised to see you on his doorstep after what happened at the engagement party last night. When he came home and plopped into his bed, he had been thinking about whether or not he should seek you out to talk things through. He never got the chance to think further about it before sleep overtook and pulled him under.

“We need to talk,” you tell him, pushing past him, shoulder bumping his.

Taehyung closes the door after you before following you further into his home. You stand by his bookshelf, several feet away from him. He watches you as you look around, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants to keep them from feeling restless.

“How do you know where I live?” He decides to ask after a moment of intense silence.

You turn to face him from your new spot by the big window, the view from it being of a park with endless rows of trees and bushes, the colors of them ranging from green to brown to orange to yellow.

“Jimin told me,” you tell him, “but that’s not important – what the hell was your problem last night?”

Taehyung shrugs, “nothing… I was just introducing myself.”

A sarcastic laugh escapes your pretty lips, a look of amusement on your face.

“Bullshit, Tae,” you protest. “We haven’t seen each other in two years and you pull a stunt like that? It’s not like you.”

He can’t help but scoff.

Not like him?

It’s not like him to spend two years watching women come and go in his home. It’s not like him to let the woman he loves leave him and not do shit about it for two years. It’s not like him to not care about love at all. It’s not like him to lose all faith and belief in the great love of his life but he did and it’s your fault. You made him what he is today. You up and left, leaving him because ‘things weren’t the way they used to be’. He accepted what you wanted because you were so certain that was what you wanted at the time. He shouldn’t have but he did because he loved you and he’d rather love you from a distance than keep you in a place that didn’t make you happy.

Blaming you isn’t right but it’s always easier to blame someone else than yourself.

“I pulled a stunt?” The anger that’s starting to boil within him laces within his voice as he moves closer. Your eyes are locked with his as he slowly moves across the room, nearing you. “You’re the one who brought a fucking date, _____! You knew I would be there and yet you thought ‘hey, let me bring a date and introduce him to everyone there while my ex is in the same fucking room’!”

You let out a frustrated groan.

“It’s been two years, Taehyung! For all I know, you could’ve brought someone too!”

The frustration is seeping through his veins as he steps closer, only a few feet from you at this point. You’re close and he can touch you if he just reaches his hands out to you but you’ve never felt farther away. Had he known two years ago that it would come to this, he wouldn’t have let you walk out of the door that night. He would’ve fought for you, told you that you would figure things out together. That he would do his utmost best to make you happy – no matter the sacrifices he would have to make.

“Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve been for the past two years? Do you know how many times I’ve asked about you only to get no answers from anyone?”

The guilt is evident on your face as he takes the risk and steps even closer. He can feel the warmth radiating off your body now, the close proximity doing nothing to calm his thundering heart.

“Have you ever, just for a second, thought about how fucking hard it’s been after you left and fled the fucking country?”

You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t–”

Taehyung can’t fight the dry laugh leaving him, “I begged you to stay, ____. I was begging you but you left anyway and for what?”

He watches as you shrug helplessly, mouth opening and closing while you try to decipher what to say, how to explain. He would appreciate an explanation – ‘things aren’t the way they used to be’ isn’t enough anymore.

“I… I had some stuff I needed to figure out,” you mutter.

“We could’ve figured it out together!” He argues, hands thrown out in pure frustration.

The shake of your head has Taehyung frowning deeply. You look away, unable to watch the way his face falls as the words leave your lips, “I couldn’t love you the way you deserved. I had to leave. It was what was best for us back then–”

“No,” he mutters, voice soft and filled with sorrow, “you don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

You feel him step back, taking his warmth with him. He sits down on the couch, running a hand through his hair as an exasperated sigh leaves his chest. You cross your arms over your chest; the act doing nothing to comfort yourself but doing enough to keep yourself warm after he removed himself from right in front of you.

Unsure, what to do, you sit down on the window pane, watching the man you used to be inseparable from. He looks tired and not because you forced him out of bed by knocking on his door. He looks like the past two years have been nothing but hell for him – and you believe it. Leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done but it was necessary in order to find yourself.

“I didn’t tell you everything,” you quietly tell him, eyes dropping to look at the wooden floor instead of him.

You feel his eyes on you, heavy and filled with longing, hurt and love.

“I knew you’d never let me go if I told you everything,” you continue when he stays silent. “I lost myself, Tae… And I knew as long as I wasn’t at peace with myself, I wouldn’t be able to love you the way you deserved.”

You take a chance and look up, your eyes meeting his in an instant. You feel your heart skip a beat, a pain so strong it’s almost unbearable shooting through your body. Taehyung’s eyes are glossy as he watches you make your way to where he sits on the couch. You kneel in front of him, your hands finding his in a weak attempt to comfort him but you know nothing could possibly remove the two years of pain and anger he’s been through.

He stays quiet, eyes skimming your face as you sit in front of him.

“Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” you softly tell him and feel a tightness in your throat. You bite back the tears but your voice betrays you as you speak up again. “And while… While trying to figure my shit out, I realized that you and I–”

Taehyung’s hands engulf yours, fingers slipping through yours to intertwine them. Pain is etched onto his face as you sniffle, one of his hands reaching up to wipe away the one teardrop that managed to escape just now.

“I realized that you and I were the only thing in my life that actually made sense but it was too late.”

“Baby…” Taehyung begins, the nickname leaving him before he can think about it and the appropriateness of it.

You shake your head, “I left you, Tae. I left and, like you said, I fled the country like a coward when all I had to do was talk to the people around me and find another way.”

The tears won’t stop coming at this point and it’s then Taehyung realizes that it was never about him. It has always been about you and how you felt; not your feelings for him but for yourself. If only you had talked to him, reached out to him and asked for help – he would’ve stepped in and done whatever it would take to make you happy again.

“I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” you cry, the sheer realization of just how much unnecessary pain you’ve caused him seems like the worst thing you ever could’ve done. You hurt the man you love and now it’s hurting you – well-deserved one might say. “God, you must hate me so much.”

“No, hey,” Taehyung calls softly, cupping your face and wiping your tears away. You look up at him, tear-filled eyes meeting his glossy ones. He smiles at you through the build-up tears in his dark brown eyes. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

“But–”

He shakes his head, “sure, I’m pissed at you for leaving. But I could never hate you, _____.”

The way he says it with such tenderness and softness makes your bottom lip quiver, fresh tears coming to the surface but it’s not an issue – Taehyung wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs, smiling softly at you. Why he’s comforting you rather than kicking you out of his home is a mystery to you, one you probably won’t ever solve. But you’ll take it, the feeling of his hands touching you again similar to the feeling of finally drinking water again after spending days in the desert. Or when you finally get to sleep after a really, really long and stressful day.

Comforting. Healing. Loving.

“I’m sorry,” you softly say, voice so quiet and soft as if the atmosphere would break into a million pieces if you spoke any louder. Your heart is beating hard, thundering at 110 miles per hour. Taehyung is leaning closer, a magnetic pull between him and you causing him to do so. It’s impossible to stay away, especially after you sat down in front of him.

Taehyung huffs out a soft chuckle, the air brushing your lips. He whispers, “stop apologizing.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, causing Taehyung to let another chuckle escape before softly, carefully pressing his lips to yours.

The world stops spinning and your heart stops beating for a second, the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on yours so familiar you might start crying again. It’s like returning home after years of chaotic traveling, the familiarity of it so comforting and perfect. You sigh deeply, melting against him, hands gripping his forearms as if to support yourself. Then a soft moan escapes you and Taehyung tilts his head to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping inside and touching yours, warm and wet and so addicting.

In need of more, you get up and push him back on the couch. He welcomes you onto his lap, pulling you closer, hands gripping your waist tightly, fingertips digging into your sides. The kisses you share are soft, passionate, and filled with words and affection you’ve kept inside for two years. Things you never got to say and affection you never got to show – all of it being poured into the kisses, deep and scorching hot.

Your arms lock around his neck, pulling him so close your noses are squishes together. He moans against your lips when your hips sink down on him, grinding against him. He feels himself grow harder, blood rushing to his cock in seconds as you continue your movements.

“Tae…” You whimper softly when his hands slide underneath your top, warm palms sliding over the expanse of your back, nails digging into your skin. “Need you– please…”

In reality, you’re not his to touch and kiss. You haven’t been for two years. When this weekend is over, you’ll both go back to your everyday lives, return to reality – realities where neither of you are in each other’s.

“What about Jinyoung?” Taehyung can’t help but ask, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.

“He went back home this morning,” you tell him, your words causing a sliver of hope to appear in Taehyung’s chest. You smile softly, fingers playing with the curly strands of black hair at the back of his neck. You shrug with a sigh, “he asked about us, I told him the truth. He left.”

“What truth?”

The question is careful but Taehyung needs to know.

“That I’m still in love with you,” you quietly admit.

If you can’t feel the harsh beating of Taehyung’s heart, you surely must be able to hear it. It’s pounding against his rib cage, making it hard for him to breathe as he stares at you. A million thoughts are running through his mind but the only thing he can focus on is the overwhelming urge to kiss you like the world is ending, worship you and make up for lost time.

“I don’t blame you if you can’t forgive me for what I did,” you softly say. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance to-“

Taehyung cuts you off by crashing his mouth to yours; desperate, needy, eager and rushed. A whimpering moan escapes you and travels into his mouth, goosebumps rising upon his skin at the pretty sound.

“I forgive you,” he says between kisses as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders. You help him get rid of it, lips never leaving his as you continue to kiss. You have two years to catch up on – two years equals a lot of kisses and a lot of making love. You inhale deeply when he pulls away, hand gripping your jaw to make you look at him. His eyes stare into yours, dark and filled with so many emotions you can barely keep track. “Don’t make me regret it.”

You shake your head, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good,” he whispers before pulling you back in for more, unable to stop for long.

The next clothing items to go are your top and his t-shirt as you tug it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor along with your jacket. Taehyung lets out a breathless moan against your mouth when you slide your hands up his abdomen, fingertips brushing over his chest and nipples. He groans as your nails dig into his skin, hands tightly gripping onto your thighs in a wordless response.

“Lay down,” he tells you, voice raspy from making out.

With one last soft kiss to his lips, you do as told. You lay down on the couch, watching him as he gets up on his feet, getting rid of his sweatpants. His eyes roam your body, grazing your skin and curves, taking it all in while feeling a wave of memories washing over him. It brings a feeling he can’t quite pinpoint to his chest, heart tightening as you offer him a soft smile.

Home.

That’s what he feels.

He finally feels at home again after two years of feeling like he didn’t belong in this new apartment of his; an apartment he found a few months after you left. He couldn’t stand being in the one you used to share because it didn’t feel like a home anymore. It’s when you sit up on the couch, your hand reaching for his to bring him back to you, that he realizes that no place will ever feel like home unless you’re there.

You’re his home – he belongs with you.

And you belong with him.

“Come back to me,” you whisper softly when he crawls onto the couch, hovering over you. His eyes shift between yours, three words he hasn’t said out loud to anyone but you at the tip of his tongue. “Tae…–”

“I love you.”

Your words get trapped in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest as the three magical words bring a new kind of warmth to your entire body.

“I love you too.”

The rest is a blur – the way he kisses you deeply and passionately like it’s the last time, the sound of your pretty moans reaching his ears like a melody he’ll never get tired of, the feeling of his hands on your body, caressing you, taking you in and remembering everything about you; every dip and curve of your body. Every uneven texture of your skin, every dimple and small spot that makes you you.

“You’re mine,” he rasps against your chest as he trails it with kisses, your bra no longer covering you, giving him free access to all of you. His lips brush your nipple, another delicate moan escaping your lips at the feeling. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

“Yes– Oh my god,” You gasp, surprise shooting through you as he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking. Your back arches into him as one of his hands cups the other breast, squeezing and caressing it in the most caring way possible.

That’s the thing about Taehyung – he can be rough both verbally and physically but he knows how you like it and he never strays far away from it. He’ll caress your body and worship it like you’re a goddess while arousing you with his words, dirty words falling from his lips without a struggle. It’s the perfect mix of everything; the best of both worlds basically.

You whimper softly when he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before letting go, leaving it wet and swollen as he moves further down your naked body. Your legs spread automatically when he reaches your core, his mouth hovering above your heat as he glances up at you. A small smirk spreads across his face as he watches you run your hands over your stomach and all the way up to cup your own breasts. You bite your lip, eyes closed as you await his touch.

“Tell me, baby,” he hums, leaving a soft kiss on your hip bone. “Did you miss this?”

You hum in response, fingers pinching your nipples as you feel his breath on your core.

“Words,” he reminds you, “I need your words.”

Your eyes peep open to glance down at him, the sight of him between your legs, messy and curly hair and swollen, plump lips twisted into a teasing smirk enough to cause you to let out a soft moan.

“Yes,” you tell him, breathlessly. “I missed you, missed your touch– please, Tae…”

The sound of you begging for him to touch you causes a feeling of pride to fill his entire body, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. He hums in satisfaction, leaning down to press a soft, careful kiss to your folds. You whimper softly, the hints of whine following.

“I’ll be honest,” the air from his words brushes your soaked core, a shiver running through your body. His hands tighten around your thighs as he brings them over his shoulders to pull you closer to his face. “I missed having you like this, too.”

Before you can even think of a response to his confession, his mouth is on you. You gasp in surprise, hands reaching for him to grab his hair, the couch, his hand – anything. Taehyung offers one of his hands, locking it with yours. Your fingers slip between his, your grip tight as he eats you out, his tongue licking your folds. You’re whimpering above him, the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit over and over again before he sucks it causing your moans to become higher and more whiny as he works you closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry, thighs trembling as you feel your orgasm coming. Taehyung keeps your legs spread open with his free hand, his grip on you so strong you’re unable to escape the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm. “Tae, I’m close– fuckfuckfuck–”

An immense wave of pleasure washes over you, a guttural moan leaving your pretty lips as you tumble over the edge, abdomen tightening as you come. Taehyung moans against you as he continues to help you through it, licking up your juices, the slurping noises lewd and explicit enough to bring a heat to your face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, a smile on your face as Taehyung crawls back up. You sigh deeply as he leans down and presses a row of kisses onto your jaw and cheek, one of his hands sliding up your thigh.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, face inches from yours as his eyes meet yours.

You nod, smiling, “I feel great.”

He smiles softly as he leans down, connecting his mouth with yours. You’re able to taste yourself on his tongue as it brushes yours, the taste arousing and dirty but so hot, you might lose your mind.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groans as he grinds against you, the only thing keeping him from slipping inside being his boxers. His cock twitches in its confinements, eager to be let free, eager to be buried deeply within your warmth. “Wanna make love to you, baby– show you how much I’ve missed you…”

“Do it, Tae,” you urge him on, hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers, “show me.”

With his help, you manage to free his hard cock, his boxers ending up on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. Your hand wraps around his length, a soft groan escaping his lips as he drops his head to your shoulder. You pump him a few times before guiding the tip to your entrance, softly gasping when you feel it nested between your folds.

Taehyung takes over, replacing your hand with his own. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, lips catching his in a kiss. He takes this as his chance to slip inside, pushing against your entrance until he’s past your folds. You both moan against each other’s mouth as he sinks inside, the length and girth of him stretching you out. He moves slowly, sliding further inside inch after inch, carefully.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans once he bottoms out, every inch of him engulfed by your warm walls. His breathing is ragged as he stays still for a moment. “I’ll never get used to this.”

You smile at his comment, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Well, you better,” you tell him. “Because this time it’s forever.”

His heart skips a beat in his chest before he huffs out a strained laugh, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making it difficult for him to get words out.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

You shrug and smirks playfully, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a challenging promise.”

He scoffs in amusement but doesn’t say anything in return. Instead he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back inside of you, hard and precise. The action leaves you gasping, back arching as he hits a sweet spot within you. He continues the action, pulling out and thrusting back in over and over again, fucking you hard but slow, his shaft brushing against your clit for every thrust.

“Fuck– feels good,” you whimper as he hooks a hand underneath your leg to change the angle of his thrusts. Your mouth falls open as he slides in even deeper, his tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

“Yeah?” He watches you nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you suppress a moan. “Did he ever have you like this, huh? Did he ever make you feel like this?”

Taehyung knows expecting you to not have been with anyone since you broke up is a long stretch. The only thing that bothers him is if you’ve been with the one man he met and talked to last night. The thought of you and him together brings a bitter taste to his mouth and he just needs you to deny it.

The sudden possessive tone of his words has your heart beating faster. He doesn’t have to mention any name for you to know who he’s referring to. Like you said when you first talked to Taehyung at the party, you and Jinyoung’s relationship was nothing serious, very new and not intimate at all. You had barely kissed him properly – something held you back every time it would take a turn into something more.

The look in Taehyung’s eyes tells you he needs to know. He needs to know if you ever gave that part of yourself to Jinyoung.

“No,” you tell him, keeping eye contact as you answer him, hoping it’ll give him the peace of mind that he needs. Taehyung’s face softens as he lets his forehead drop to yours, his breath clashing against your face. You cup his face, thumbs brushing over his jawline where faint stubble is starting to appear. “He didn’t.”

The relief that runs through Taehyung’s body is evident in his kiss as he connects his mouth with yours, his free hand reaching up to grab one of yours. He intertwines your hands, bringing it above your head as he returns to the task at hand – getting you both to the edge.

The constant touch of his tip to a certain spot within you has you reaching another orgasm faster than you’re prepared for. It washes over you in huge waves, running through your body with such force your walls tighten around him. Taehyung moans deeply, his thrusts becoming uneven as he, too, reaches his high. Soft words of encouragement reach his ear as he drops his head to your shoulder. Your fingers slide into his thick, black hair while your other hand tightens its grip around his.

He lowly groans as he stills within you, spurts of hot and white cum painting your walls as he comes, “shit–”

Hours later you’re watching Taehyung’s fingers play with yours as he holds your hand up in the air, both of you watching it as a comfortable silence surrounds you. It’s nice – to be cuddled up with him again after so long. You didn’t realize just how much you had missed him until you saw him last night. But despite the blissful atmosphere, there’s still an underlying tension of something that you need to talk about. Whether it’s your guilt for leaving or his regret for not fighting more is unknown.

“I wish I could go back in time,” you suddenly break the silence.

“Why do you say that?”

Taehyung brings your hand down, intertwining them instead as he leaves them to lay on top of the blanket covering your naked bodies. You continue to stare at your intertwined hands, wondering how it’s possible to match so perfectly with someone only for you to leave for two years despite them being where you belong.

“I wish I could go back and do it differently.”

Taehyung stays quiet for a moment before speaking up, “you can’t change the past, baby.”

His voice is delicate and soft, comforting.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just hate that I caused you so much pain. It was unnecessary and uncalled for. I should’ve just talked to you about it instead.”

“I think a lot of things could’ve been avoided if we had just talked about it but like I said… You can’t change the past,” he carefully grabs your chin to make you look at him. “Besides, we found our way back, right? We got a second chance at this, at us. Let’s make the best of it, yeah?”

A smile spreads across your face as you lean up and kiss him, the kiss soft yet deep and filled with the things you still haven’t said; apologies, I love you’s, promises and everything in between.

Taehyung sighs deeply against your lips, cupping your face, “I missed kissing you.”

You can’t help but grin against his mouth, “keep doing it then.”

“Oh, I’m planning on it,” he tells you, a squeal escaping you as he rolls over, trapping you beneath him. He dips down and kisses you again, this time with more force and eagerness.

That great love in life that everyone keeps talking about is really not worth much if it’s not with the right person. Taehyung used to believe that there was only one true love for everyone. Two years ago, he lost all belief in that. There was no point in looking for that great, true love because he already had it and he lost it. And even if there is more than one true love for everyone, he wouldn’t want it if it’s not you.

It seems his beliefs have been restored.

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

title: the babysitter | part 2

part 1

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller/babysitter!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 3858

summary:

Joel is ready to move on from last week's....incident.

You're not going to let him off the hook that easy.

author's note: the people have spoken, and they want more joel x babysitter! everyone owes this anon for their original request. thank you all so much for your support on my works and for 600 followers. please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you enjoyed!

you can also buy me a coffee

content warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), pre-outbreak, age difference (21f and 36m), no use of y/n, sarah is younger than canon, joel's guilt about power imbalance dynamics and age gap, major daddy kink, dirty talk, guided masturbation, snooping/perv behavior, mentions of joel being on the atkins diet, begging, praise kink, pet names, orgasm control, unprotected p in v, limited aftercare. let me know if any are missing!

Joel’s palms are sweaty as he checks his watch for the hundredth time. You’re due at his house in five minutes for your scheduled evening of babysitting so that he can go out with his brother, Tommy, and he wouldn’t be such a nervous wreck if not for the fact that the last time you were here, he’d gotten his mouth on your delicious cunt and the taste of you is the only thing he’s had on his mind for the past six days.

He tries to block out the vision you’d made, writhing around on his tongue and fingers, hips flexing against his face as you try to keep quiet, but it’s a fruitless effort. And when he catches himself thinking about you, the guilt rolls through him in equal measure. You’re young, too young, and Sarah’s babysitter. His daughter adores you and would be devastated if he had to replace you because he can’t keep his fucking dick under control.

Which is why he’s so nervous tonight. He needs to be the adult in this scenario and put his foot down. What happened was a mistake and he would very much like to move past it, so long as you’re comfortable with that. If you don’t want to babysit Sarah anymore, he’ll just have to grin and bear it.

A knock at the door interrupts his nervous pacing. Sarah flies down the stairs in a flurry of curly hair and gangly adolescent limbs, opening the door and immediately wrapping her arms around you. You hug the girl back, smoothing her hair and smiling down at her as she launches into a retelling of her past week away from you. Your undivided attention to his daughter and your kind, patient smile as you listen to her story make his heart clench in his chest.

Finally, you look up at Joel, giving him a sweet little smile of his own. He swallows nervously.

“Sarah, could you head upstairs and give us a sec to talk?” He asks his daughter. She pouts, grumbling about wanting to play Jenga, but does as she’s asked. You look at Joel expectantly.

“Listen, I just…wanted to apologize for last week,” he starts, running a hand through his hair nervously. “What I did was extremely inappropriate. And if you don’t want to babysit Sarah anymore–”

“Woah, hey. Everything’s totally fine, Mr. Miller,” you say, cutting him off.

He lets out a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent,” you reply. You place a hand on his shoulder and he can feel the heat of it through the cotton like a brand. He feels stuck in place as you squeeze gently, before letting your hand slide down his arm as you remove it. “I’m absolutely sure.”

You wink at him before taking a step back and head in the direction of Sarah’s room without looking back at him.

Shit.

______

You’re playing Jenga with Sarah, as promised when Joel pops his head into her room to say goodbye to his daughter. The young girl squeezes him tightly around his middle, looking up at him with all the love in her eyes. Your smile is soft as you watch the pair.

You’ve been Sarah’s babysitter for three years now, since she was three years old and Joel reached out to you at the recommendation of his neighbor, your former English teacher in high school. Back then, the stress of navigating the terrible twos and threenager stages of toddlerhood had really been wearing the single father down. Between his hard labor as a contractor and a strong willed daughter, he had been stretching himself thin.

You remember when you first met him. He’d answered the door with his hair still wet from the shower, slicked back from his handsome face. His brown eyes had faint circles beneath them and his smile was tight as he ushered you inside and introduced you to his daughter.

The little girl had acted shy but all it took was telling her your favorite Disney princess for her to emerge from her shell, her little fingers wrapping around yours to lead you to her room to show off her doll collection.

It gives you a quiet sense of satisfaction to look at Joel now and see that the circles of exhaustion have faded and that the tension in his shoulders has eased thanks to the break you afford him. You want to take care of him. To please him.

In more ways than one.

You shake yourself free of your thoughts as Joel turns to say goodbye to you. He lifts his hand in an awkward little wave before heading downstairs. You hear the front door open and shut, breathing a sigh of relief. The Jenga blocks tumble to the floor with Sarah’s next move, drawing you back to the present.

There will be time later to think about Joel.

You just have to be patient.

________

You quietly shut the door to Sarah’s room before tip-toeing down the hall to the closed door of the master bedroom. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you tentatively turn the knob.

The room is dark, but you can make out the dark shapes of the furniture as your eyes adjust. Your eyes zero in on the large bed in the center of the room, the sheets still rumpled from sleep. Joel Miller doesn’t make his bed in the morning. Your tummy flutters at the idea of knowing this little tidbit about the older man.

With careful steps you make your way to the bedside table, flicking the lamp on. The room illuminates in the warm glow, and you take in the small details that make up the man you’ve had an all-consuming crush on for three years.

The hamper of clothes in the corner and the stray articles of clothing that didn’t make it to their destination littering the floor. His dresser is mostly clear, save for some mail and a bottle of cologne with the top left off. You pick the bottle up, the glass heavy in your hand as you bring it to your face.

It’s citrusy, like fresh oranges, but there’s an underlying spice to it that reminds you of fresh cracked pepper and your favorite bergamot candle. The scent settles over you like a comforting blanket, making a little shiver dance across your spine. You want the scent all around you.

On top of you.

Under you.

You set the bottle back down, moving on in your exploration. The cluttered nightstand calls to you next.

There’s a stack of three books on the corner. One of them is a business advice book, likely for his endeavor to branch out and form his own contracting business with his brother, Tommy.

Another is a book on the Atkins diet, which makes you frown. Joel has an incredible body, the strength of it earned from hard work and the softness of it earned from a life well lived. Your mind drifts to thoughts of those strong arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him like he can’t bear to let you go. Or wrapped beneath your back as his hips slam against yours, his brow shiny with sweat from his effort.

Fuck.

The third book is a new copy of The Da Vinci Code. You open the hardcover to read the excerpt, only for a piece of paper to flutter to the ground. You bend to pick it up, turning it over in your hand.

It’s a photo of you and Sarah from when you took her to the aquarium on a day when Joel got called into work for an emergency at a job site. You remember Sarah had been bummed that she would miss her dad on a Saturday, one of the only days she got to spend with him since he always works so late. But the aquarium had mermaids and Sarah was obsessed with The Little Mermaid at the time.

The photo in question is of the two of you posed in front of the giant shark tooth display, your arm around Sarah’s shoulders and hers around your waist. The photo is cracked, like it’s been folded a number of times. You trace the faint line that bisects the image between you and Sarah.

Folding it along the same crease, you’re left with just a photo of you.

Interesting.

Mr. Miller can’t come home soon enough.

________

Joel’s feeling good as he unlocks his front door. The few drinks he had with his brother have softened the worries that linger in his mind surrounding you. Everything is going to be fine and the two of you can move past this.

The house is dark when he opens the door, a surprise to him given that you’re usually watching TV in the living room or studying in the kitchen when he comes home. It’s quiet, too. No gentle hum of muffled dialogue from the TV or the soft music that you’ll play.

Joel heads upstairs. He pokes his head into Sarah’s room, her night light revealing a mass of curly hair tucked beneath sheets that she’s pulled up to her chin. There’s no sign of you in her room, either. He closes the door as quietly as he can, the click of the latch ricocheting in the quiet hallway.

He checks the upstairs bathroom, only to find it empty as well.

Which means there’s only one other place you could be.

His heart rate kicks up as he approaches his bedroom. There’s a faint strip of light at the bottom of the door, like a beacon calling his name. With a deep breath, he turns the knob and steps inside.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” He hisses, shutting the door sharply behind him.

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, right hand slipped into a pair of lacy white panties, fingers moving in slow circles beneath the fabric. Your hips jerk against your hand, back arching on the bed, his bed, as you let out a quiet whimper. You’ve got one of his shirts on, the fabric rucked up to the middle of your waist, nipples straining with your arousal.

“Waiting for you to get home, daddy,” you reply, voice high pitched and needy.

Joel sucks in a sharp breath of air, eyes fluttering as he tries to control himself. “Don’t call me that,” he finally says through gritted teeth.

You regard him for a moment, and Joel feels like his every thought and emotion is flayed open for your perusal. “Why? Because you don’t like it? Or because you like it too much?” You smirk at him. “I found the picture, daddy. You been lookin’ at me all alone at night?”

Joel’s hands curl into fists at his sides. He stares at you for so long he can feel his eyes burn with the strain of trying not to blink, in case you disappear. He feels like he’s caught at the top of a rollercoaster, the biggest hill possible with the greatest fall on either side.

On the one hand, he could fall into bed with you.

On the other hand, he can fall out of your life.

And the physical pain he feels at that option has him rubbing his chest to soothe the ache.

He takes a cautious step forward. Then another. He sits himself on the corner of the bed as you watch him with wide, expectant eyes.

“Why’d you stop, baby?” He asks, nodding towards your hand. “You sure were feelin’ bold, snoopin’ around my room and gettin’ into my bed, huh?”

“Just wanted to be close to you, daddy,” you tell him. Your fingers start moving again, tentatively, nothing like the rapid rhythm from before.

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He asks, eyes trailing your body. “Lift up that shirt for me.”

You do as you’re told, your gorgeous tits on display for him. He palms his cock, rock hard in the confines of his jeans.

“I want you to pinch one of those pretty nipples for me,” Joel says. He groans as you follow his instruction, thumb and forefinger grasping the pert nub, twisting as you moan. “That’s it, want you to get them nice and sensitive for me, princess.”

“Now, spread your legs for me,” he continues. “How wet did you get your little pussy before daddy interrupted?” You spread your legs and Joel can barely stop himself from reaching out to run his thumb over the wet spot that’s formed on the gusset. “I asked you a question, darlin’.”

“I-I don’t know,” you murmur.

“Check for me, will ya? Slip those little fingers down there and show daddy,” he whispers. He can barely recognize his own voice, the deep tenor of it a register he hasn’t heard from himself before. He licks his lips as you slip your hand beneath the elastic, running your fingers through your pussy. He can hear how wet you are, the slick glide of your fingers echoing in his head. “Show me, baby, come on, don’t keep daddy waitin’.”

You withdraw your hand and hold it out for his inspection. The digits glisten with your essence, the earthy scent hitting him like a freight train. Joel groans, head dropping as he fights to keep his composure.

“Take your panties off,” Joel demands. You lift your hips from the mattress, pushing the scrap of lace down your thighs. “Give ‘em to me.”

You drop the garment in his outstretched palm. Joel brings it to his face, taking a deep inhale. The scent of you, the combination of laundry detergent and vanilla and the musk of your wetness left behind in the threads, has him feeling lightheaded with desire. You whine, squirming impatiently.

“Daddy…,” you whimper. “Please touch me.”

“No, sweetheart, I shouldn’t be touchin’ you but this…this is fine, right? This ain’t touchin’,” Joel says, moving himself closer to you. “This doesn’t count.”

“Can I at least see you? Please?” You beg. And god, with your big doe eyes shining up at him like that he’s certain he’d kill a man if you only asked.

Joel stands from the bed, eyes never leaving you as he fights to remove his boots and jeans and shirt. He grabs your panties from where he’d dropped them on the bed in his haste to stand, wrapping them around his palm and taking his cock in hand. He lets out a desperate groan that you echo with your own.

“Put those dirty fuckin’ fingers in your cunt,” Joel growls. You run a finger through your folds before sinking one deep inside yourself. “That’s it, honey, that feels good, right? Giving your pretty little pussy some attention?”

All you can do is nod, mouth open in a silent moan as you work your hand against yourself. “Wish it was you, though, daddy,” you whine, hips flexing as you use your other hand to rub your clit.

“C-can’t, baby,” Joel stutters, hand slowing on his cock to bring him back from the edge. The sudden rush of endorphins makes him lightheaded.

“Please? I’ve been such a good girl,” you say. “Just a little bit, please!”

Joel’s chest heaves with desperate breaths, heart nearly beating from his chest. He can’t do this, he can’t touch you, not again. This is safer, this is a compromise that he’ll just have to live with.

“Just a little?” He finds himself asking. “And then you’ll stop beggin’?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please,” you sob. He plants one knee on the bed, then the other, crawling up the mattress toward your sweet, soft body. He longs to touch you, to run his rough hands across the smooth skin, but he has to draw the line somewhere, even if the line is as permanent as smoke in the wind.

He kneels between your obscenely spread legs, your pussy glistening in the low light and the heat of you so close to where he needs it most he feels his resolve crumbling to dust. He gathers the spit on his tongue and lets it drip onto your mound. Your back arches, the motion dragging the sensitive head of his cock just barely through your wetness.

“Christ, darlin’,” Joel grunts. “I’m not gonna survive you, am I?”

“What a way to go, huh?” You reply with a breathy laugh. Joel smiles down at you, a little grin lighting up your face and he has a flash of a vision of you downstairs in the kitchen, giving him the same smile when he comes home from work.

Joel shakes his head, ridding himself of the thoughts before they can embed themselves any deeper. He takes himself in hand, sliding the thick head through your slick before notching himself as your entrance.

Your pussy welcomes him with delicious warmth, the slow glide of his cock through your tight cunt pure torture. Joel keeps his eyes fixed on your face, on the way your eyes roll back and your mouth drops open as you press your head against the mattress. Your body welcomes him, like he’s been the missing piece this whole time.

“Daddy,” you murmur as he bottoms out, the front of his thighs pressed to the back of yours. “You feel so fucking good.”

Joel’s cock twitches inside you, making you cry out loudly. He doesn’t even think before pressing a hand to your mouth, your eyes wide above his palm.

“Can’t be sayin’ that, baby, I’m tryin’ to keep my promise,” Joel all but begs. His hips flex the smallest bit and he can feel the responding moan from your lips against his palm. “Fuck.”

Joel removes his hand and plants his palms on the mattress on either side of your head. You flex your hips, the movement sliding him in and out and fuck, he can’t take this anymore.

He hopes hell welcomes him with open arms.

Joel slides himself free of your body with a groan, hands gripping your hips with bruising force as he twists your body beneath his. Your ass is in the air, putting your desperate cunt on display, begging to be filled again.

He shuffles forward, thrusting back inside of you in one sharp movement. He can hear your muffled shouts being absorbed by the mattress as he pounds inside of you.

“This what you wanted? Huh? Wanted daddy to take this sweet little pussy?” He asks through gritted teeth. He groans, a deep rumble in his chest as he withdraws, slow as he can manage, to feel the grip of your walls around his cock. “Ohhhh, f-fuck, baby. You f-feel so goddamn g-good.”

You turn your head, and Joel relishes in how wrecked you look. Your hair is a mess and there are lines across your face, imprints of his sheets from being pressed into the mattress. Your eyes are wide and glassy, pupils blown so black he thinks he’d see the stars in your eyes if he looked long enough.

“D-daddy,” you whine. “Wanna come!”

“N-no, don’t you fuckin’ dare come until I say,” he growls, punctuating the command with a sharp smack of his palm across your ass. “You understand, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Fuckin’. Girl,” Joel growls, slamming into you with as much force as he thinks your sweet little body can take. You bury your face against the mattress as you sob, your pussy clenching tightly around him.

He pulls out again and your body sags to the mattress without his support. He maneuvers your bodies so that you’re facing each other, pulling a leg over his hip so that he can thrust his cock into you once more.

This position is intimate, your breaths mingling as he flexes his hips against yours. You brush your lips against his and he topples over another cliff, destroying another poorly drawn line as he groans into your mouth, clutching your body desperately to his as your tongues tangle together.

“This pussy,” Joel says, “feels like heaven, sweetheart. Fuck.”

“Please let me come, daddy,” you sob, your damp forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Please, please, please.”

“Just a little longer, baby, I promise, I just wanna feel you,” he murmurs soothingly. “You just feel so good, honey, I can’t let it be over yet.”

You give a sad little whine as you nuzzle against his neck, your lips pressing against his frantic pulse. You bite and lick and kiss at the delicate skin and Joel can’t hold back anymore. He needs to feel you come undone around him.

“A-Alright, baby, I’ll let you come now, okay? Can you do that for daddy? Can you soak his cock so fuckin’ good, huh?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you pant. Each thrust Joel gives is punishing as he grinds himself inside of you. He slips a hand between your bodies to swipe at your clit before capturing your lips with his own to swallow the moan that spills from between them.

Your body goes tight around him, pussy fluttering and squeezing him within an inch of his life. He bites back his own release, desperate to feel you through yours. When your limbs start to go loose, he slips himself free, grinding his cock against your low belly until he comes, hot ropes of his spend marking your skin.

He holds you as you both catch your breath, the cool air making your sweat slick skin break out in goosebumps that he chases with his fingertips. As the fog of his orgasm recedes from his brain, Joel feels the telltale tendrils of guilt creep in.

“Please, don’t freak out, Joel,” you say with a sigh. You lean back to look him in the eye. “I wanted this.”

“But—“

“Nope. Shush. Go get me a washcloth, please?”

Joel stands on shaky limbs, heading to the bathroom to fulfill your request. When he returns, he smooths the wet cloth first through your sensitive, puffy lips before using it to collect the sticky mess he’d left behind on your skin. You watch him with another little smile, eyes soft and clear in your post-orgasm haze.

“Thanks,” you tell him before sitting up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing a discarded t-shirt. You pull your shorts up your thighs, shimmying them into place on your hips. Joel feels his cock give a valiant little twitch at the sight. “Now, walk me out, will you?”

Joel feels like he’s got whiplash, following you out to your car parked in the driveway. He opens your door for you and watches you settle in. When you look up at him, he can’t help but lean forward and press a slow kiss to your lips.

“Drive safe,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. You roll your eyes as you shut the door and start the car.

Joel knocks on the window, a thought having occurred to him. You roll it down and raise your eyebrow at him.

“You left your panties,” he says.

“Keep ‘em,” you reply, lips tilted in a devilish smirk. “I’ll be back next week.”

Joel Miller taglist: @huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123on123 @bean-is-readingng @darlingpedrodro @silkiers @pascals-cat

Want more Joel? View the Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #no use of y/n #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x babysitter!reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo

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jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

JAROFSTYLES FICTOBER DAY 8- Scream

FICTOBER Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

Warnings- angelsxdemon, mention of god, blasphemy tbh, smut

-----------------------

“That isn’t the type of scream I’m used to…” The dark eyed demon smirked down at the angel, sweat spattering her littering skin. Her chest heaved as she looked up at the dark eyed creature with a glare, but it was hard to focus on the comment.

It was hard to focus on anything when she had the best cock inside of her, hitting every spot that she didn’t know needed to be hit.

She would be exiled, if they knew. Her wings would be taken, and she would be stuck at heaven’s gate doing intake, but somehow her feud with a demon who also frequented her area of earth had blown into a full blown sexual affair.

“B-Be quiet and keep doing that.” She huffed, her light voice falling into a mewl as he did just that.

No sex had ever been such a temptation. She understood now, why people sometimes lusted after these creatures. Her complete opposite, dark minded and murky to her light and airy, and yet she found herself in this position. They quite literally fed off of sin, and the clouds knew that this was one of the most sinful activities she had even partaken in. It was another question she had for the big man up in the sky.

If it was so bad, forbidden to the highest degree, then why did it feel so good?

Her toes curled as the strokes of his thick cock sent zaps of pleasure into her belly and her heels dragged down the backs of his thighs, trying to tug him deeper as she felt his sweat dripping onto her chest. Deep pink, wet lips had sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, making her whimpering continue as he hit into her with precision. Like it was a prearranged strategy to know her body’s most sensitive places, a roadmap to making her cum.

His length filled her perfectly. The sounds of it slipping in and out of her sopping hole was audible in her room, sure she was making a mess of her bed. It would be a humiliating reminder when he inevitably left her and she woke the next morning to find evidence of their salacious activities, but one that would most definitely leave her cunt aching for more.

“Who said you can give demands, little Angel?” The demon cooed. “Who says… I want to hear anything but my name and you begging for my cum leaving that holy little mouth?” Sharp teeth brushed her jaw, a deepy chuckle leaving his lips as he nipped the skin and slid a hand around her throat, pinning her down on the bed. His hips continued their thorough thrusts, the evil smirk on her face making her squeal.

“No, no. That’s what I want to hear. God’s little servant, such a shame. A pussy like this should be working for my side.” He crooned, the filth and blasphemy leaving his tongue like a silk ribbon tied package. She should pull away, leave, report her sins, but she didn’t want to fight the inevitable pleasure. His words were offensive and dirty and she couldn’t stop herself from clenching around him. “Yeah…” He moaned, looking down at her cunt being spread by him. It was soaked, a ring of cream settling on the base of his cock before sliding down to his overly full balls. “It would be put to such good use in hell. Y’could come party with me… Play my funny little tricks… Let me fuck you where everyone could hear. I think you’d like that.”

Y/N didn’t know why it sounded appealing when it was absolutely not something she had even allowed herself to think of, but she knew. She knew it was something that was going to stay with her and haunt her. The feel of his cock filling her like it was perfectly curved to cater to her, the sound of his taunts, his nails digging into her thighs. It would be a recurring nightmare that would make her reach between her thighs when she woke up in a sweat.

“N-No..” Her eyes closed and her mouth opened in pleasure as he began to move a bit harder inside of her, well aware her words were lies but having to try one last time to save herself. Why did they forbid sex when it felt like euphoria? Why was this going to be a punishment if anyone found out? How could they blame her for indulging in someone who knew what she needed and to find a release she didn’t know was full?

“Yes.” He replied, squeezing slightly over her throat. “No angel should have such a tight, weepy little cunt. Dripping all over my fat cock, making a mess of my balls. Think you’ll clean them up for me after I empty them into this perfect little angel cunt.” Pursing his lips, he spit down on where they connected and made her squeak in disgust- but he could feel what it did to her. “It’s too late to pretend. I’ve corrupted your soul, sweet Angel. You’re so gone for it.. Gonna lick yourself off of me and get me hard again so I can take all of my one promised night….” He thumbed over her clit with his other hand, watching her back arch off the bed. “Mhm… I’m going to haunt you, darling.” His eyes were completely black, brows furrowed as his face controrted with rapture. He’d never find another pussy quite like this, and he wanted to be the only one to own it. Perhaps it would take time, but he as going to be the one who kept her. “ But I’ll be here to quell that ache that I’ll leave behind. All you’ve got to do is beg.”

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imtryingmybeskar · 1 year

Text

Come Home Chapter Three.

Joel Miller x F!Reader. Angsty slow burn.

We finally get our first glimpse of Joel in Jackson. Warnings for references to rape and violence (nothing explicit)

Word count: 2,353

Come Home

Chapter Three - Glass And Petrol

No one gets much sleep that night, except for little Anna who closes her eyes almost immediately after eating. Your presence and the killing of the Runner in the midst of their camp has the group on edge, and you don’t blame them one bit. You aren’t exactly delighted with the situation either, and after the remains of the Runner have been unceremoniously dragged away from the campsite, you end up sitting alone on a log beside the fire trying not to show how discomforted you feel under the gaze of their suspicious eyes.

As a show of good faith you give your pistol over to Chloe, the woman who had helped you take down the infected, and in return they allow you to keep your other weapons. Your horse is retrieved and tied up closer to the fire, and the cans that Chris procured before her death are added to their meagre rations, which seem to consist largely of some kind of jerky. It tastes a little like deer and you gladly go along with that notion until Vanessa, the older woman with the shotgun, comments that you're lucky you still have a horse as you were eating all that remained of theirs. The additional food that you provide is gratefully received and goes a long way to elevate your status among the little group.

Once the tins have been thoroughly cleaned of every scrap of food and you have distributed the additional blankets you had brought around the camp, the mood settles into a kind of wary acceptance. They ask where you're from, why you are in the woods alone at night, where your base is. All the standard questions that you expect. You explain truthfully for the most part, although as a precaution you make it sound as if you visit Jackson a lot more than you actually have, and that the people there both know you and expect you to return any day now. It won’t stop them killing you if they really want to, but it might make them think twice about it if they believe their entry into the town will go a little easier with you in their party.

They themselves had a depressingly familiar tale, one which privately cements in your mind the notion that keeping to yourself is absolutely the correct way to live your life. They had been part of a larger group that had resided in a town that was fairly out of the way and clear of infected. That group had kept themselves alive by any means necessary – survival at all costs. Leadership had devolved into violent dictatorship and when the notion of a pool of women for breeding was spoken about some had fled in the night with little more than the clothes on their backs.

“There were nearly thirty of us at first,” Vanessa says mournfully as she clutches the shotgun closer to her. “We got as many women and girls out as we could. Couldn’t all leave by the same exits because we would have attracted too much attention. We had to scatter. By the time we met up at the designated place there were eighteen. And then…” She trails off but you don’t need to hear to know. There are so many ways to die in this world, and in the end perhaps it only matters whether or not you aid the survival of others. She sniffs forcefully and sits up straighter. “Still better than what they had planned for us,” she says firmly, and Chloe nods her agreement.

The man is near silent, seemingly content to hold Anna as close as he can and keep a careful eye on proceedings. He introduces himself as Mark, and doesn’t say much more but that's fine by you. Your voices had been kept low and soft, but silence was still preferential.

Even if you had known these people for years, you aren’t entirely sure you would have been able to sleep with the dark and shadowy forest all around and the knowledge that the Runner's body was so close to camp. When the dirty pale grey of winter’s sun finally begins to make itself known in the sky you find yourself quite relieved to be able to be on the move again.

Jackson isn’t more than half a day’s ride away and you have hopes that you can make it there before sundown, even though most of the group are slogging through the snow on foot. The horse makes the journey a little easier as he carries both the (admittedly very light) bags, and the weary adults who take turns on his back with Anna on their laps. The child barely makes any sound along the way, merely stares around with her big, pale blue eyes. You find it a little creepy if you're honest, but are grateful too. The more quiet your little group is, the less likely you are to be hounded by the living or the dead. The journey is full of the tension born of silent terror, slow, deliberate.

Finally, finally the tall, imposing town walls come into sight beyond the trees. Their sturdy wooden frame stretches up at least 25 feet into the air and atop them at regular intervals are guard posts with mounted guns and floodlights that shine like beacons in the dark. A painted sign affixed to the walls tells you that you are almost at “Gate East 2” but before you can approach any further a man’s voice calls a halt to your party and demands that you put your weapons on the ground and your hands up. You all do so and await further instructions.

"How many more of you are there?" comes the question from on high.

“This is everyone,” confesses Chloe in a low voice. “We have a child. Please…she needs help.”

“Hold there,” the guard instructs tersely, and before long the wooden gates ahead of you opens up to expel a contingent of three heavily armed people with your little group in the sights of their guns. You allow yourselves to be patted down and a variety of knives hidden in random pockets and boots to be taken from you. They also retrieve your weapons from the ground and Vanessa seems especially wary of giving up her shotgun in particular, but when she is abruptly informed that she can either trade them for the security of the walls or find somewhere else to go she relents, albeit reluctantly.

“Come on,” grunts one of the welcoming party. “Maria’ll see you.”

You allow yourselves to be led through the gates and into the town proper where the skeleton of the old world can be seen under the new. Houses line the road ahead, the warm lamplight within spilling out into the street and joining the more harsh and utilitarian lights that hang from above. Overgrown tarmac roads join up with newer paths that have been foot-worn between dwellings and other buildings. The snow has been mostly cleared from the main thoroughfares, but footprints crisscross everywhere else, and still the impacted snow threatens to turn to ice underfoot in places. A faded stop sign, now incongruous and obsolete in the face of horses and pedestrians is off to the right. Beyond it all, the mountains loom grey and immense, cocooning the town in their embrace.

A smiling freckled woman with pigtails appears from your left, where you can now see other horses being stabled together in a large, low building. She takes the reins of your horse and assures you that he will be brushed down, fed and watered and that you can come and see him soon should you be allowed to stay after your interview.

As he is led away, a woman strides up the road ahead toward your party. She has strong features, a determined look etched upon them. Short blonde hair ruffles in the cold air as she marches toward you, and you get the distinct impression that she is not someone to be crossed.

“My name is Maria, and I’m in charge around here,” she announces without preamble. “I understand you have a child with you?”

Mark steps forward silently and briefly tucks the blanket away from Anna’s face so Maria can see her before swaddling her up and holding her close again.

“You will be allowed to stay here tonight," Maria proclaims. "But you will be under armed guard and you will all submit to a basic medical assessment to check for any signs of infection. I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if any are found. Tomorrow we will have a more in depth conversation and then-“

Her words are stopped by sounds of the tall gates that had admitted your party opening once again. You turn to see two men ride in on their mounts and hear Maria mutter a “Thank God,” under her breath.

One of the men swings his leg over his horse and is jogging across the snow to her before it has even come to a complete halt. They embrace, and the man places a small but tender kiss to her temple before turning to your group.

“Well…who do we have here?” he asks in a soft Texan twang.

“Newbies. Maybe,” Maria answers shortly. “This is my husband Tommy. He’s my second in command. He’ll be sitting in on our meeting tomorrow as well. But for now…” She trails off and points with her chin toward what looks very much like a barn situated at the back of the stables before speaking to the armed guard that still surround you. “Take them there. Check for bites. If they’re clean give them food and blankets and make sure they’re warm enough. I’ll send the doc over to see to the kid once you’ve confirmed they’re clear of infection. Rotational watches. Three hours each. Two on them at all times.”

“I’ll take one of those watches.” This voice is low and gravelly, also Texan accented, and is coming from the other rider as he dismounts.

“You sure?” Maria queries. “You only just got back.”

“I’m sure,” the man says as he steps fully into view. “May as well. Was takin’ most of the watches out there anyway,” he adds slyly, giving Tommy a half smile.

“That’s what you call fallin’ asleep next to the fire is it?” retorts Tommy, giving the other man a blackly incredulous look.

You barely hear their banter. The man who wasn’t Tommy has grabbed your attention and shaken it violently, and you are trying your very best not to stare. He's bearded and broad and never has the phrase “ruggedly handsome” been more apt. A heat suffuses your cheeks as you suddenly begin to find the dirty slush on the ground fascinating.

Maria is quite clearly used to their bickering as she cuts across it with the finality of a baseball bat coming down onto a skull. “You’re late back. What happened?” she demands.

“Evidence of fresh infected,” says Tommy briskly, now with the air of someone who is indeed reporting to a commanding officer. “Some signs of scuffles in the forest. Six dead runners, all but two half frozen in the snow. One of the fresher ones was found on the outskirts of the remnants of a camp. The other…we couldn’t find the body at first. We followed a trail to that cabin up northwest of here. Looks like the person had been laid to rest.”

“That was me,” you blurt out. All eyes swing your way and you try hard not to visibly flinch under everyone’s collective gaze. “I killed her. I mean…I killed what was left of her. And brought her back to the cabin. That was where we lived. Her name was Chris. She-she came here sometimes. To trade.”

Maria looks to Tommy as if for confirmation of your veracity. He gives a small shrug, raises one eyebrow.

“Couldn’t tell if it was her or not. Half her face had been bashed in,” he says bluntly. The anxiety already in your stomach peaks and you give a small shudder at his words, your lips curling in a disgusted grimace. He notices and keeps his eyes on you when he speaks again. “Buuut I did see her when she came to town a few days back. Seemed to be the same clothes.”

You swallow thickly and look down at the ground again. “I didn’t want to stay there without her. Chris always did like it here. Thought I’d try to get here too, so I took the horse and met up with these people on my way."

Maria nods. “I remember her. Tall. Friendly. Liked a drink.” At this, the handsome stranger beside her scoffs softly but offers nothing further to the conversation. Maria continues as if there had been no interruption. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. For now, go and get some rest.

The remainder of your evening passes in a haze of blessed warmth and a feeling that you can relax, just a little. The barn as a shelter is basic, yet sturdy and relatively comfortable. But far more importantly, it resides behind strong walls and is defended by a host of armed people. A knot in your stomach that you hadn’t even realised was there begins to slowly unclench at the prospect of not having to watch for threats.

After you submit to examination for bites, scratches or any other signs of infection by a woman who performs her duty with an air of perfunctory boredom, you sit on a hay bale covered by a blanket and gratefully accept the sandwiches provided. The others are scattered around the barn doing much the same thing, Chloe alternating taking bites of her own food and giving Anna hers. There is no sign of Ruggedly Handsome that you can see, and much as you want to appreciate him a little more, your eyes begin to droop almost as soon as you finish your food and you barely have time to gather some blankets into the approximation of a bed before you fall fast asleep.

Next chapter

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction

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moon-alight · 1 year

Note

Hello could I request for an imagine of Jo’s relationship with reader being revealed? Ending up with the reader being bombarded with paparazzi. Jo is there to comfort you and so on..

This is funny because I got the same request for Yuma, lol. I will do it, of course. I hope you like it. 💞

Masterlist

Popular - &Team Jo

Synopsis: After Jo had debuted with &Team, you had supported him but when someone leaks your relationship, you're brought into the reality of dating a global star and it's hell.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, reader is being cussed out, violence, breakdowns, panic attacks, hurt/comfort,

Word Count: 1400

So many people had warned you but you didn't listen. You never listen. Why would you? You were happy! You were perfectly fine to figure everything out yourself! You didn't need help from anyone!

Until now. . .

You knew damn well that dating a global star would be difficult. There wouldn't be as much time together as you're used to, a lot of missing each other and not to mention. . . the fans.

The fans.

You loved them. Luné really seem so nice when &Team debuted. They were all so supportive, many people were Jo biased and no one suspected you.

You.

You had known Jo for seven years now, only been in a relationship for one. You had met at school, became friends and then he asked you out when he was training to become an idol. You said yes.

You adore Jo. Honestly, you can't imagine your life without him anymore. But now you're absolutely thorn. Your life is ruined, so does it really matter who you spend the remains with?

It all happened last Friday. . .

***

Jo had a day free from work so he called you at 6 A.M. to come over. You, of course, cursed his ass that he had to wake you this early but since you were now awake, you left your house and went over.

The first four hours were spend on the couch watching disney movies until Jo decided to take a walk with you. He made sure you were warm enough as the cold weather outside could still get you sick.

Your hands intertwined, either of you one earbud as you walk together through the city. It was a beautiful day.

After two hours, when both of you were sitting in a cat-café together, petting some cute pets, your phone started blowing up. You take the device out of your pocket and scroll through social media only to find your name, address and relationship revealed.

"Jo?" His phone blows up as well. You're both looking down at your phones in pure panic.

***

You had made sure to leave the café behind but it didn't do much for your privacy. Your social media accounts were found, mean comments were left under your posts, forcing you to go private.

Jo had been scolded by his manager for not being careful but all he could think about was you. He begged his manager to deny the accusations and remove your name from all platforms but so far, there hasn't been anything done.

Monday.

You had tried to fake an illness but your mom caught on and told you to 'stop being childish' and 'just go to school'. You take your bag and walk outside the door.

You have a jacket on, the hood covers your head and you look down to avoid all eye contact. Your mood has never been so low, you feel absolutely thorn.

Walking onto the school grounds, you sit down on a small wall outside of the building. You wait patiently for your friends. When you see them, you go over.

"Guys!" You say, sounding a lot more desperate than you had wanted. "It got out. The news of me and Jo got out and there's so many people angry with me--"

"You should've listened to us." Akari, one of your best friends, replies.

"You wanted to date him even after we warned you about what could happen." Sora adds. "This is on you." They continue to walk towards the building, leaving you to stand alone.

Were they right? Was this really all on you?

The amount of dirty looks and glares you had gotten during the day made you physically sick. So much though, your mom had to pick you up because you puked out your lunch.

You had never felt like this. Like every decision you make would shape your future. You get home and immediately go to your room, locking yourself up.

You stare at your phone for about five minutes before the temptation becomes too much and you pick it up. You check the media platforms and find some stuff you rather didn't see.

y/nhater: I thought Jo would've gone for someone prettier

&teamfann: I know right? She looks like a maid, lol

Jomylove: I bet he found her in a dumpster and decided to keep her like a cat or smth

Jolovexx: I think she looks nice

Lunéforevah: lmao, ok. She literally looks like a pig but yeah

You turn off your phone, trying your best to hide the tears that have fallen. Why are people so mean? You crawl underneath your covers and close your eyes, wishing you won't wake up anymore.

***

"Jo, please calm down." Nicholas mutters.

"You don't understand! She's not picking up the phone! What if something happened to her?"

"I don't think you should worry about that." Yuma replies, his eyes focused on the TV screen.

"Why not?" Jo asks, frustratedly.

"Because she's right there, getting bombarded by paparazzi." Jo's head snaps around to face the tv. There you are, followed by a bunch of psychopaths with microphones and cameras through the city. He can't see your face since you're covering it up but he knows you.

"Fuck!" He takes his jacket and runs outside.

He had been looking for what felt like ages. You were nowhere to be seen and it sucked. Jo was worried, he had never felt like he was about to explode until now. He tries calling you again but you don't pick up.

It's only when he hears distant sobs near the cat café you two loved to go to, that he becomes weary again. He follows the sound and surely enough finds out in a dark alley, sitting on the ground with your face in your hands.

His heart breaks.

"y/n?" He sits down next to you, guilt washes over him in thick waves. "I'm so sorry." He closes his eyes, trying to keep his own tears inside. "It's all my fault, I should've been there for you. I'm sorry."

You wrap your arms around him, continuing to cry into his chest. Everything had just become too much. You never asked for this, you never wanted to be popular.

"I want to go back to how it used to be." You mumble, hands clawing at his shirt. Jo has his arms tightly wrapped around you.

"I wish I could've protected you but. . ." Boy this was hard. He loved you, it's unfair for the both of you if he breaks it off now but he has to protect you. "We should break up."

"You're gonna let me go through this alone?" You ask, pulling away from him and stare at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "You can't leave now, I need you here. I can't do this alone."

That's it.

***

"I quit."

"WHAT?!" His manager's eyes widen in horror at Jo's statement the next morning. "What do you mean you quit?"

"If I can't be with her and be an idol at the same time then I don't want to be an idol. Let someone else take my position and tell Luné that they don't have to worry about dating rumours anymore."

"But, this is your dream!" His manager tries to reason.

"So is y/n." Jo replies, confidently. "I'm not gonna give her up. I can't let her go through this alone." His manager hums and looks down.

"Nobody is quitting, you hear me?" He asks, pointing at Jo. "We'll find a way, you just make sure your girlfriend is happy and I will make sure Hybe takes care of the rest."

***

You are currently sitting in your room with Jo next to you. His arm is resting over your shoulders and pulls your body closer to his. You look down at your hands fiddling with one another.

"What if they had said that you had to quit?" You ask softly. You are feeling guilty right now for not being strong enough to deal with this yourself.

"I was prepared to make that sacrifice." Jo replies, rubbing your arm gently.

"You shouldn't have to. This is your dream."

"You are more important to me than that." He assures you. You smile up at him and rest your head against his shoulder. "Besides, Hybe will make sure everyone stops harassing you. I promise."

#&team #&team scenarios #&team drabbles #&team imagines #&team jo #&team jo angst #&Team jo fluff

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mrs-monaghan · 1 year

Note

Hybe didn't?

Lmao they were no.1

Things hybe 'did' for Jimin FACE era

1. Denied him of 4 MV, to artist who build that fuxking company. While giving their rookies 4 MVs on 1st album, Yoongi and Hobi a documentary and now a world tour. Apparently 4 MVs request is unreasonable, my ass.

2. Lets forget about other international platforms but they Didn't raised a finger against hanteo robbery even if it's their own home country. Still no one knows where that 770K sales went. Conveniently stole his #1 soloist sales record.

3. Didn't sent LC to radio even after mass request from fans and it achieving no1 on BB, left all work to be done by fans. LC had a very big opportunity to go even big but how much fans can do without a single support from agency ?

4. No celebrations or theme cakes like other members, no interviews or hype after No.1 BB like bangtan had during dynamite era. When rest country was celebrating and their share prices shoot up. Even Jimin's dad's friends celebrated while it's silence from his agency.

5. Even his pre orders still not shipped which is affecting charts. It's been a month, mind you. Took days to restore CDs in BTS store. Took days to add LC to This is BTS Playlist, which is the biggest we can have, while haegum was added in a day.

6. Army were begging them about BB situation for 3 WEEKS but no response but conveniently corrected the website just a day before D DAY. No comments regarding his 90%+ sales being deleted while all K media were writing about the BB payola.

7. Cut down his promotion to 10 fucking days leaving even Jimin disappointed and doubtful about his promos. Just to announce a whole new album in a week and killed hype of FACE.

8. Threw him to hands of kpoppies and antis, they were rentlessly attacking him since SMF dropped, articles were written, they were making sexual harassment and rape jokes against him. 'Artist protection' no where to be found. Didn't even took down korean articles or hate blogs.

9. Made him overwork and finish everything within 10 days till he was sick. He attended parties with tapes on his neck and was sick af by end of promos, even on BB hot 100 announcement day.

10. Remember when Filter was removed from iTunes when it began outstreaming ON ? Yeah same thing happened. FACE tied with BTS record for iTunes album IMMEDIATELY next day there was a 'glitch' and FACE falled.

That's an accurate depiction of me rn. I said in a comment and I'll say it here. I love Jimin with everything I own, but I'm gonna need my man to start having some sort of defiance. He doesn't see his potential, fine. But he needs to start prioritising himself. He don't need to be putting others infront of himself all the damn time. Did other members put their shit on hold for his sake? No. He was born to shine...its why he's so hated because he doesn't need to do much and people will gravitate towards him. If YT didn't do what they did SMF and LC would both have over 100M views by now. No seriously think about it. Forget the streamers like u and me. We have 74 million subscribers on Bangtan TV and 70 M subs on Hybe labels. Then Jimin has 49M followers on insta. Lets say 10 million are people with multiple accounts. That leaves 39M followers. Again, forget the streamers. Lets say there is a person who is busy so they only have time to watch his MVs once before going to work and once before bed. Then we of course have the haters obsessed with Jimin who also watched the MVs at least once. Add the fact that both MVs for sometime were number 1 and 3 on trending which means locals who like to see what's trending clicked on the songs and watched them. And then that's when the streamers come in. The math does not math no matter how much u try. The fact that LC doesn't even have 50 million views is absolutely ridiculous.

But, I digressed. Back on topic. Hybe did do him dirty. BH been doing him dirty for fucking years. But he stays. If you've been listening. You will notice Suga and Jimin are the two members who've been the most vocal about coming back as 7. I'm not saying the rest don't want that, but Yoonmin do appear to want that the most.

We have seen Jimin refuse to go hard when he's dancing with people who are not as good. The TT he did with TXT he did not even try. He took the cute route. And that's not the only one. VIBE he could have gone harder, but u can see he is holding back because that is not his song, he was a feature. Watch how he dances with Suga versus how he dances with Jhope. U will see a clear difference. Jimin has always, always put other people into consideration. Its why u will see when V is making fun of Jimin he won't stop and keeps going and going. But when Jimin is making fun of V, he will catch himself and stop and admit he has gone to far.

He has always put Bangtan before himself and it sucks. Look at JK "what are they gonna do, fire me?" JK knows the power he holds and uses it and takes advantage of it. He knows he's indispensable. But then so is Jimin and I wish he would follow his boyfriend's lead because this is absurd. Other members have gotten sm and he got so little. How and why was he okay with this?

I would bet my right arm (I'm right handed btw) that he has also put BTS before his relationship and could have been the cause of some of their fights. And u know JK sees whats happening and doesn't like it one bit. BH weren't promoting his man to his satisfaction so JK did a whole live dedicated to Jimin. He said; fine, I'll do it myself.

Y'all think I'm kidding when I say JK stays for Jimin 🧐

I hope military service hardens Jimin and he comes back with an attitude because this man deserves to reach even greater heights than he already has.

Fuck Hybe and Bighit with a fucking cactus I'm fucking done with this shit

#justice for jimin #jimin #park jimin #jimin face #the fuckery #bts ask #ask shaz #jikook #jimin and jungkook #bts

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dodger-chan · 1 year

Text

I missed writing Eddie's pov, so have 500ish words of unedited Eddie thoughts I had last night.

Steve Harrington was hot.

It probably shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. Eddie’d known Harrington was good looking; he wasn’t blind. But Harrington had always been too put together, too clean, too pretty to really be Eddie’s type.

(Sure, from time to time, Eddie had imagined what it might be like to dirty the King up a bit. Wondered if it would be fun to put the pretty boy on his knees. Leave Harrington battered, bruised, bloodied. Begging. But mostly Eddie had ignored the guy.

Maybe if he’d spent more time fantasizing, the reality wouldn’t have hit so hard.)

Dirty water dripped from Harrington’s hair. His bare torso was covered in red welts, a few of which were already darkening into bruises. Blood dripped from a dozen or so bites and scrapes and darkened Harrington’s lips.

Eddie wants to dig his fingers into the bruises until Harrington cries and kiss the blood off his lips.

(The blood in Harrington’s mouth isn’t his own. No amount of fantasizing would have prepared Eddie for that.)

These things - these demobats - had dragged Harrington down and chewed him up. And Harrington had ripped one in half and torn into another with his teeth, spat its flesh onto the ground.

Eddie had never been so inappropriately turned on in his life.

Stupid, really, to avoid developing a crush in the four years of close proximity - including one gym class - only to fall head over heels now. In the worst possible place, at the worst possible time.

“Yeah, I was in love with Robin for about a month after the last time we did this.” Harrington was grinning at him, teeth still stained with blood.

“How much of that did I say out loud?” Eddie kept his voice even. Harrington didn’t look like he was about to beat the shit out of him, but he had just demonstrated a disturbingly attractive capacity for violence.

(Eddie liked to switch things up; found violence intriguing from both ends. There were guys he wanted to break, and guys he wanted to break him. They had never been the same guy before.)

“You called yourself stupid for falling for me while we’re in danger.” Not the worst part of what he’d been thinking. Enough to out himself, which was bad enough. “You shouldn’t feel too bad about it. Nancy’s one of the smartest people I know, and she dated me for a year after we fought a Demogorgon together. Robin thinks it’s the stress of almost dying. Makes people think they’re in love.”

“Right.” There was some logic to that, if logic could be applied to such a surreal conversation. A surreally normal conversation.

Eddie shouldn’t push his luck. What he’d said was embarrassing, but Harrington was being cool. They were walking through a dangerous environment, populated by a hostile hive mind and Eddie was not about to be punched in the face for noticing Harrington was hot. So overall, fine.

(Eddie was going to push his luck. He couldn’t help himself.)

“I have to say, you’re taking it pretty well. Most straight guys don’t like hearing another guy finds them attractive.”

Harrington was silent for a few moments, visibly thinking through Eddie’s comment.

“I guess that’s because I’m not.”

“Not taking it well?”

“Not straight.”

(Eddie was absolutely fucked. Hopefully soon in all senses of the word.)

#short ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #my fic #stranger things

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sebsxphia · 1 year

Note

Hi seb! Guess who is back? Back again? It’s me the 🍑 anon, who somehow only sends you her horny thots, next time maybe it would be a fluffy one but today, no ma’am. I’m here to be whore for our favorite cowboy! Just stay with me for a while.

Being in public and being a brat, and teasing Rhett. Making eye contact with him while he is talking with someone putting your finger in your mouth and licking, moving around in your pretty mini skirt , talking with everyone but him on purpose, moaning knowing he can hear while eating something, trying to see how much you can push before he pushes back. Turns out he can hold himself in check for a while but his restrain broke the moment you got on a mechanic bull, watching you buck around the bull is enough for him to decide that your little game is done.After you get off, or if you are like me probably get thrown off, he is there. Pretending to be gentleman, helping you out but the reality is he is just looking for an excuse to get his hands on you. The moment he has his hand around your wrist and squeezes you know you got what you want. But rather than getting you away from people, he is making you socialize with them while whispering dirty things to you and touching you teasingly, just his finger tips against your skin.

“What a dumb slut sucking on her finger to tease me, showing me how you are going to take my cock down that throat”

“My needy girl the whole day you were begging me to ruin that sweet cunt of yours”

“Keep going sweetheart. You don’t want all these people to know how you couldn’t be a good girl for 2 hours, do you?”

When he realizes what he is doing is working and its slowly becoming hard for you to continue "going dumb on me already?"

Finally after you ask if you can go he would say “ Ask for it nicely baby” And only leave when he gets the answer he is looking for which is “ please, sir” From than on he is making all the conversations and leading you to his truck cause he knows you are not fully there anymore, and are only thinking about Rhett.

When both of you are finally in the truck, just as he is starting to drive, you in your needy headspace would bend over and start licking and sucking them over their pants. And Rhett even though he wants to sit there and enjoy, he knows he cannot drive like that so he will pull you back from your hair, shushing you when you make noises and get his cock out and make you cockwarm him till you get to your house. Making comments about you being so cockdrunk the whole way there.

Pulling you off when you get home seeing your face and just going "my pretty girl,such a mess for me" and if you thank him for letting you have his pretty cock in your fuzzy state well…

I have more thots about this if you are interested but i’ll go away now by just adding i love you-🍑

YOU WORDS HAVE CONSEQUENCES AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

because rhett would be a semi patient man, especially if you’re in public. he knows that you’re going to keep pushing and pushing him, but he also knows he can give it back to you and you can’t take it when in public. he loves pushing you to that headspace in public because you get so needy, so desperate, to take him home and he thrives off it.

absolutely loosing the will to live at thanking him for letting you have his pretty cock, especially if you said those exact words and called his cock pretty. he’d loose it and tell you, “if you think it’s so pretty, how about it goes in that pretty cunt of yours?”

i’m so, so, grateful and honored that you send me such incredible pieces and insane thots about my favorite cowboy, seriously!! every time i see i have a new one i get so giddy and kick my legs up and down whilst reading them. thank you so much for this my beloved anon!! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #rhett abbott #🍑 anon

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daughterofdrearburh · 2 years

Note

I am always into the supernatural aus—anything in particular that your brain is begging to share with the class? 👀

omg. Hl!!! i have literally been thinking about this ask nonstop for like. two days. ur my new favorite person.

i'm gonna start with my train of thought about the actual narrative arc here so that ppl can skip over if they find it boring LMFAO but. without spoilering too much obvi the point is for robin & nance to get together despite the odds and the more i think about it the more i want to explore…. how the repression of these new monstrous traits would reflect the repression of gay feelings/identity in 80s rural indiana. and especially considering the difference between rob & nancy's monster forms…. like the idea that nancy can actually function well as a vampire because she's so familiar with the idea of showing the world a very curated face while robin, who already struggles with “toning it down” and fitting in, now forever hosts a creature that is considered by the world to be ugly and uncontrollable despite her best efforts to NOT act according to her nature. THE DIFFERENT METHODS OF HIDING IN THE CLOSET!! THE DICHOTOMY!!!!! and i am also interested the confusion that I imagine would come w trying to navigate the formation of a relationship with someone who is fundamentally changing even as you are getting to know each other. to be falling in love with someone WHILE they develop traits that will change them irrevocably?? having to really think about whether you’re in love with the human parts or the monster parts?? not knowing where one ends and the other begins? AND ALL THIS KNOWING IN UR HEART IT WOULD JUST BE EASIER TO LEAVE BUT YOU CANT BRING YOURSELF TO?????? i’m feral. also if anyone read this far i am in love with you

okay (still panting) random headcanons

- once rob gets a handle on transforming she’ll go woof mode just to give nancy the best snuggles

- she also is now extremely invested in any sports that involve balls being thrown. has to be dragged away from tennis courts regularly

- tbh vamp nancy gives me very elinor from first kill vibes as in she would feed off random men at clubs for sure

- rob comes to be her guard dog OBVIOUSLY

- the only downside to this system is that once in a while nancy accidentally picks on someone who is absolutely Rolling and comes home insanely high and distraught and has to be babied until it wears off

- obviously there is a lot of Biting in the bedroom. no further comment

- actually at some point they figure out how to have nancy feed from and [redacted] robin at the same time which i’m sure feels like being on ecstasy especially because robin is now a Certified Whimperer and has to be [i am dragged forcibly out of the room]

- i feel like long term they develop more of a santa clarita diet style of dealing with things? nancy does all the dirty work and rob keeps an eye out and cleans up and when they do actually have a steady supply of blood nancy starts making smoothies and cocktails and shit out of it because she still has Manners

THIS WAS SOSOSO FUN TO ANSWER omggg thank you for stopping in!! tell me your supernatural thoughts too pls i’m so interested. also always down to hear more people’s takes on this dynamic and anything ppl wanna see me write!!!

#this made my car ride sooo much more bearable LOL #i’m on mobile so excuse any funny formatting #ronance #fic things #supernatural au #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #asks

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luminoustarlight · 7 months

Text

blog bio ✧·ﾟ: *

about me ✧ you can call me mae. twenty two, scorpio, enfp, type 2. eurasian. born and raised in california. i'm usually either writing, reading, knitting or crocheting.

tags ✧ mae's monologue - my thoughts/chatter. mae's mail 💌 - anything i receive in my inbox. luminous recs - fics i've read and recommend. luminous feedback - reblogs of feedback on my works. look what you made me queue - queue tag.

blog events ✧ sin saturday

communication ✧ please talk to me!! i’m always happy to talk about books, movies/tv, music. i love hearing about your day, things you’re excited about and just getting to know you! asks are welcomed and encouraged. private messages are okay too. i love pet names like darling, love, babe, etc.

anon emojis ✧ 🌙🫧 [🐉🌸🪼]

nsfw ✧ this blog is intended for people 18 and over due to written sexual content and themes. blogs without an age or age range in their bio will be blocked.

entertainment ✧ abbott elementary / brooklyn nine-nine / daisy jones & the six / gilmore girls / grey's anatomy / stranger things / star wars / mcu / movie musicals / musical theater

characters ✧ anakin skywalker / din djarin / eddie munson / loki laufeyson / yelena belova

people ✧ florence pugh / harry styles / hayden christensen / joseph quinn / pedro pascal / taylor swift

writing disclaimers ✧ all reader insert characters are written as 18+. i typically only write f!reader or afab!reader in smut pieces. i'd be happy to write gn!neutral if requested. i do my absolute best to avoid descriptors such as skin colors (you blushed), hair textures (your silky soft hair), etc. i also try to avoid height descriptors but i'm very short so sometimes i can't help it. if you ever notice anything that is non-inclusive in my writing, please kindly let me know.

current characters ✧ anakin skywalker / leo campo / scott barringer

requests ✧ requests are perpetually open. i'll do headcanons, blurbs/drabbles, and even a full one shot. i will do my best to fulfill requests but they are never guaranteed. i might not have the bandwidth or the inspiration to write them but please do not take it personally if i don't get around to writing your request.

yes list (things i will write) ✧ anal, begging, biting (scratches/hickeys), blindfolds, breeding kink, cockwarming, degradation, delayed gratification, dirty talk, dub-con, edging/denial, hate sex, masturbation, oral sex, overstimulation, praise, pregnancy, squirting, thigh riding. it's also likely that i am okay with something that is not listed here.

no list (things i will not write) ✧ non-con, watersports/scat, pedophilia, daddy/mommy kink, self-harm/suicide, eating disorders. this is subject to additions when something comes up.

please do not repost my writing. but do reblog and leave comments!

#about the blog #guidelines #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader

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ch4nb4ng · 3 years

Text

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

#lee minho #minho #leeknow #stray kids #lino #lee minho smut #skz smut #leeknow scenario #stray kids smut #stray kids scenario #dom leeknow #dom lee minho #dom lino #lino smut #ch4nb4ng

1K notes · View notes

subbykboys · 3 years

Text

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot.

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house).

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious.

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature,

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away.

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette.

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.”

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly.

He only rolled his eyes.

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch.

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—”

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark.

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment.

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face.

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt.

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today.

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.”

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it.

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate.

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you.

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?”

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight.

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable.

Oh, he’s cute.

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.”

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth.

Really cute.

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.”

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.”

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room.

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him.

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.”

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair.

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind.

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra.

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that.

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that.

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not.

“Ah— Mark?”

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.”

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived.

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room.

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door.

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door.

Then he froze.

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened.

But it didn’t.

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on.

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial.

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction.

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t.

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting.

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!”

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him.

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato.

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you.

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating.

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids.

He was doomed.

And he still needed to pee.

Damnit.

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans.

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place.

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?”

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.”

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone.

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away.

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one.

“Taeyong.”

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes.

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard.

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue.

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare.

“Perfect. Then we can share.”

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath.

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket.

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived.

“Movie?” Haechan suggested.

You perked. “I know a good one.”

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.”

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.”

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction.

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!”

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch.

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness.

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen.

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat.

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.”

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now.

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised.

Now, was not one of those times.

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position.

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers.

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face.

Fuck, he’s too adorable.

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon.

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable.

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee.

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers.

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson.

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax.

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves.

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv.

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more.

“Is this alright?”

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out.

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled.

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious.

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him.

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t.

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering.

But even if it was—

It felt too damn good.

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out.

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands.

But shit was it tempting.

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him.

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight…

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap.

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—”

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire.

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered.

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention.

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway.

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you.

Really looking at you.

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins.

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face.

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.”

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head.

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied.

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.”

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.”

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?”

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him.

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip.

God he’s adorable.

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely.

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?”

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened.

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent…

“Have you ever been touched before?”

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs.

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen.

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh?

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.”

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist.

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.”

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod.

“Good boy.”

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers.

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...”

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable.

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm.

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on.

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn.

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples.

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins.

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.”

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you.

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?”

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside.

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds.

But you weren’t finished yet.

Not by a long shot.

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips.

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were.

“O– oh—”

“Is this alright?”

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…”

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…”

“Just?”

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health…

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.”

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch.

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust.

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him.

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally.

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?”

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall.

“Wanna feel it again?”

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.”

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that.

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible…

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet.

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out.

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat.

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be.

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body.

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight.

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright.

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder.

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued.

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased.

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?”

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.”

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.”

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles…

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room.

“Uh… foods here.”

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans.

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck.

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed.

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners?

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bakubabes-tatakae · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 4K bbe! You deserve ALL the love and support! Your writing is👌 I unfortunately missed your 1k so can I please have Isaac Foster NSFW alphabet? Thank you sooo much❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much bby. 🥺❤️ I’m always happy to write for this maniac. I hope you enjoy them. 👏

Event Masterlist

NSFW Below 👇

A (Aftercare)

Zack might not seem like the most lovey of people, but that’s where you’d be wrong. If there’s anything that Zack Foster loves after a roll in the hay it’s cuddling after. This man makes sure that you’re comfortable and doesn’t ever want to let go of you. No matter how rough the two of you might get, he wants to make sure that you’re in his arms when it’s all said and done.

B (Body Part)

His favorite part of your body is going to be your ass. Isaac Foster is an ass man, there’s no denying that at all. He loves the way it looks when it walks in front of him or the way it looks as he’s pounding himself into you from behind. And don’t think you’re getting past this man without a firm smack to it nearly every time.

C (Cum)

If there’s one thing that Isaac Foster has a lot of... it’s cum. This man’s favorite place to put it is right on your chest. He absolutely loves the way that you look with his seed all over you. And it’s even better for him if some makes it to your face.

D (Dirty Secret)

Zack isn’t one for secrets, you’ll know pretty much everything about him. The dirtiest secret this man has is probably the fact that he’s nearly always picturing you naked. He was locked up in that building for so long without seeing someone of the opposite sex that it’s just a habit for him now.

E (Experience)

If experience is a deal breaker for you than Zack is not the guy. This man is pretty much a newbie when you meet him. He’s never really gotten any experience with anything but his hand. If you’re looking for a wild night right from the start then you’ve got another thing coming. He’s gonna need some time to get the hang of things first.

F (Favorite Position)

With his almost animalistic side Zack much prefers doggy style. He loves to be able to run his hands down your back and grip your hair. It gives him perfect leverage to reach down and tease you a little bit while he ruthlessly rolls his hips into you. He loves the way it looks when he wraps his hand around your throat and pulls you up against him, pressing your body to his chest.

G (Goofy)

Zack is most definitely not a goofy guy in bed. He’s got one goal and one goal only... getting the two of you to your release. He’ll focus more on making sure that you get your world rocked, but don’t think he wont go back to himself once he gets you there.

H (Hair)

Isaac Foster is not much of a groomer. When he was trapped in that building he never really had any means of making sure that happened so he’s now used to that. He wouldn’t object to it if you were to mention it to him, but he’s most definitely not going to take that upon himself.

I (Intimacy)

Once Zack gets used to a person and really starts to fall head over heels he’s going to be a very intimate person in bed. He’ll want to make sure that he tells you a thousand times that he loves you or how beautiful you look while you get your insides rearranged. He’s never one to keep the compliments away while you’re in private.

J (Jack Off)

Before he met you the only thing that this man had to do in his lonesome was jack off. He would multiple times a day just to pass the time. So when you meet him, he’s definitely got control on how long he’s going to last in a round. He’s not going to be able to break that habit easily either, so every chance that he gets when you leave he’ll probably have his hand wrapped around it.

K (Kink)

If you weren’t aware, Isaac Foster has a fascination with knives and sharp things. Don’t think for a second that it isn’t going to transfer into his sexual life. This man loves the way you look as he slowly slides the knife across your skin, the cool metal causing shivers to run through your whole body. He’d never actually harm you with them, just likes the way you squirm when he plays around with them.

L (Location)

This man’s libido is out of control. There’s no place that he wont have a little fun with you. It doesn’t matter where you are, if he’s got the urge he’s going to pull you aside and fuck you against a wall. He’s very fond of finding a secluded place where there’s a chance of getting caught. He wants the whole world to know who you belong to.

M (Motivation)

It doesn’t take much to get him going, but if you really want to do it in as little time as possible than the best way to do that is by wearing tight pants around him. He’s a sucker for the way they accent all your curves. He’ll want to maul you in an instance.

N (No)

The only thing that Zack will probably say no to, is anything that involves him being the one being penetrated. He’s pretty open about the rest of the sexual world. He’s willing to try anything once and he’ll be sure to tell you how he feels about it after. And the thing you want to avoid that will turn him off is when you complain too much. He’s definitely not a fan of that. He knows that life is rough, but he can’t help but think of that things that he’s gone through in his life and compare them.

O (Oral)

Once he gets the hang of it, Zack is going to be a very big fan of both giving and receiving oral. He loves the way that you look with your head between his legs and he loves to watch you squirm with your ass in the air as he licks your core, hitting all the right places.

P (Pace)

There’s one thing that Isaac Foster is not good at, and that’s doing anything slow. He loves to watch you writhing underneath him as he ignores all your pleas to slow down. He might be quick, but he’s always sensual at the same time. He wants you to know that he loves and appreciates you at the same time as he gives you the ride of your life.

Q (Quickie)

Zack is a huge fan of the quickie. If you let him get quickies in throughout the day that just means less time he has to spend with his cock in his hand. Once he gets that urge he’s got to satisfy it, whether it’s by himself or with you. It’s happening and he’s got no control over it.

R (Risk)

He’s pretty experimental when it comes down to it. There’s very little that Zack wont try and he’s not against being in public either. He hasn’t found much in his sexual life that he’s not alright with, even if that only means doing something once in a while.

S (Stamina)

I really hope that you’re prepared if you’re deciding to be with this man. He can go all night and last for what seems like forever. He’s trained himself to last longer than you’d expect. He wants to make sure you’ve come a couple of times before he even decides that he’s done. His control over that is incredible.

T (Toys)

Zack doesn’t own any toys himself, but he’s not against using any toys on you. He loves to watch as you come undone under your own toys, whether he’s the one in control of it, or you are. Just picture him licking his lips as he hovers over you, slowly pulling your toy in an out of you as you attempt to cover you face from him, the pure pleasure almost too much.

U (Unfair)

Zack loves to tease, but hates when it happens to him. He gets enough urges on his own, the last thing that he wants is someone else coming in and making them one hundred times worse. But he’s definitely always happy to tease you and see if he can get you going. He loves when you beg him.

V (Volume)

If you’re looking for a quiet partner than I think you need to look somewhere else. Zack never had a need to keep himself quiet when he was by himself, and he isn’t going to start now. Whether it’s grunts and groans coming from him or him asking you to be louder, it will never be silent in his bedroom. He loves to hear you and he loves to have you hear just how good you’re making him feel.

W (Wild Card)

Zack will never admit it to you, but he’s glad that if he were to meet anyone to learn all these experiences with... it’s you. And he knows that he plays it up sometimes when he’s acting clueless, but he’s not as clueless in certain departments as you think he is.

X (X-Ray)

As surprising as it will be to you, Zack is packing some heat. He’s long and wide and he knows how to use it. He loves when you comment on that fact, it’ll make him crawl in his skin with anticipation, or it will get him that much closer to his release.

Y (Yearning)

This mans libido is out of this world. He basically wants it 24/7, so don’t think for a second that if you ask he’ll say no. I don’t think he’s ever had a time in his life where he would say no. He’s always happy to oblige, especially to his woman.

Z (Zzz)

Zack has a lot of issues with sleep so sex before bed is a surefire way to get him to sleep. He usually falls asleep very shortly after a round in the sack. Either it takes away his stress, or just gives him that little boost of serotonin that he needs to get his mind to stop racing.

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @chaoticsimptown @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker @impinthecloset

#isaac foster x reader #isaac foster x y/n #isaac foster x you #zack foster x reader #zack foster x y/n #zack foster x you #angels of death x reader #angels of death x y/n #angels of death x you #isaac foster headcanons #zack foster headcanons #angels of death headcanons #isaac foster smut #zack foster smut #angels of death smut #bakubabes hatake celebrates 4k

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cower-before-power · 3 years

Text

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles. “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey @chaotic-nick @manjiroarchiviste

#meet cute collab #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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matbaerzal · 3 years

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Like This Pt.1 | T. Jost

Summary: Tyson is the best roommate you could ask for, you can't imagine ever living with someone else... no- no not like that, your relationship is purely platonic! > (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) A/N: First fic of the year hafsjkhf.... The reader studies Special Education, which will play a small part throughout this fic. Warnings: A short mention of sexual dreams Reader pronouns: she/her Words: 2,4K Tagging: @konecny-s @vitekvanecek @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @ricohenrique @notaccurateornice @tysojost @justjosty ... lmk if you want to be tagged ❤️

As you reach the door to your apartment you shift your second grocery bag into your left hand before fishing your keys out of your pocket. You hurry to turn the key in your lock as your arms are tired from the heavy weight of the amount of food you’d bought. You huff out as you open the door, absent-mindedly throwing the keys on the side table as you set the groceries down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, can you give me a minute?” you hear Tyson speak as you take off your coat and shoes. In the corner of your eye, you see him put his phone down before pushing his chair back, standing up, and walking over.

“Hey, how was work?”

You huff out a breath in reply, and when you see him grab the groceries you almost try to object, but relief washes over you before you can. You follow him to the kitchen with the intent to sort the food so he can get back to what he was doing, but he brushes you away.

“Go sit down - relax” he gives you a pointed look.

“Thanks” you smile, hesitantly making your way to the couch.

“You hungry?” he speaks over his shoulder as you sit down.

“Very” your stomach grumbles as if on cue.

“I made some dinner earlier, want me to heat it up for you?”

“Don’t you have an interview” you shout back.

“Eh, they can wait” he shrugs

Without waiting for you to reply he takes out the tupperware from the fridge before putting it in the microwave. Once it’s heated up he brings it over to you, along with a glass of water before he gets back to his interview, apologizing profusely to the journalist on the other end of the call for keeping them waiting.

Living with Tyson had its ups and downs, but all in all the two of you fit together well as roommates. You’d met him during his first year in Colorado, back then you were living on campus. You’d planned to move in with a friend of yours, but after she graduated she got a job offer in another state and decided to move, leaving you practically homeless as there was no way you’d be able to afford to live on your own at the time - and there was no chance that you were ever moving in with your dorm room roommate again. Tyson offered for you to stay with him for at least a little bit until you figured things out. Then he realized he really liked having you around. You’d hesitated, thinking he was just trying to be nice, before he practically begged you to stay.

Hundreds of comments from friends asking if you’re dating or having sex later, you’re still living with him - not dating, not having sex, never even having kissed, and neither of you wanted to cross that line. With the way you and Tyson clicked, there were a lot of people who had trouble believing you were just friends, but at this point, you felt like you knew each other too well. All your dirty laundry had been aired out between the two of you - both literally and figuratively. The smell of his week-old workout sweat in the laundry room was enough to put you off. It wouldn’t be fair to say it hadn’t crossed your mind though. Objectively he is very attractive - you can’t deny that - perhaps, maybe your mind traveled places as he walked out of the bathroom after a shower with only a towel wrapped around him. You knew for a fact that he’d thought about you too, having drunkenly admitted to you that he had a dream about you once - which explained that one morning where he wouldn’t meet your eye and couldn’t have gotten out of the door quicker.

But neither of you ever acted on your attraction, it was pushed into the back of your minds - ignored completely. Because that’s all it was, an attraction, and nothing more.

You watch him as he continues his interview, zoning out as you eat your food. You hear every tone of his voice, completely focused on him but at the same time not registering a single thing he’s saying. It’s only when he looks over at you that you’re shaken out of it.

“Is it alright?” he whispers, covering the microphone.

You shake your head as you're brought back to the real world, it takes your brain a few seconds to catch what he said and your cheeks feel warm as he chuckles - “Hm?”

“The food? Is it alright?”

“Mm, yeah” you take another bite, resting the fork in the food container as you reach for the TV remote to distract yourself.

You’d been swamped with work lately, between your studies and your part-time job as a teaching assistant, you barely had time to take a breather. Your third year studying Special Education at the University of Denver was hectic, any time not spent at work or on campus or studying at home was spent either eating or sleeping in your bed. Tyson could see how tired you were whenever you came home, he always cooked a little extra for his dinner so you wouldn’t go to bed without eating first. His mediocre pasta meals always tasted like heaven after the long days you had.

By the time Tyson plops down on the couch you’re finished eating and zoned out on an episode of New Girl.

“Do you have any plans on Sunday?” he asks and you shake your head - “just studying, writing”.

“Wanna come to the game? I completely get it if you just want to stay in-”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to” you perk up, you hadn’t been to a game in who knows how long and you’d put aside your assignments at least for a little while if Tyson ever asked you to. He never had to ask before, you’d come whenever you had time, but it’d been seven weeks now - Tyson kept count.

“You sure?”

“Yes, Tys, really” you pat his thigh - keeping your hand there a touch longer before removing it when you meet his soft eyes.

You wake up late on Sunday, head stuck to the pillow, body hesitant to leave the bed. You’d already woken up once and decided to sleep longer so you force yourself out of bed, put some clothes on and go to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal. Just as you get the milk from the fridge your apartment door opens, signaling that Tyson’s home from his morning skate.

“Good morning” he smirks at you, his eyes running over your thrown-together outfit and noting the remnant of sleep in your eyes.

You nod, trying to speak through the mouthful you just took, making Tyson squint his eyes in a laugh. He waits patiently for you to finish so you can repeat your question to him - “how was the skate?”

“It was alright, easily gonna have a nap after I eat though”

“Want some cereal?” you arch your brow. He stops and thinks for a second, contemplating if he should say yes, or make his usual scrambled eggs - “you know what? Yeah” he decides. You raise your brows at him, about to make a comment but he interrupts you. “Yeah, yeah pour me a bowl before I change my mind”.

You hold your hands up - “wasn’t gonna say anything” you try, but he doesn’t look convinced. You rush to get him a bowl and a spoon, setting them down for him, pouring in some cereal as he comes over to sit next to you on your kitchen island. He pours the milk himself before lifting the bowl to clink against yours, muttering “cheers” before taking a spoonful into his mouth.

You sit in comfortable silence as you eat your food, moving around each other as you put the bowls in the sink to worry about later. You walk to the couch and open your laptop to get some work done before you have to get ready for the game.

“Do you ever take a break?” Tyson yawns, laying down on the couch next to you, his head landing on a pillow close by your thighs.

You figure his questions rhetorical, but his eyes stay on you as you start typing away on your essay. “I’m taking a break later, y’know, at the game”

“No, I mean like a real break, like flat out on the couch, books closed-”

“You’re funny”

“I’m serious”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have time for breaks Tys”

He goes quiet after that, a thoughtful look on his face as he settles into the couch, your eyes linger on him for a moment before you go back to writing your essay. It doesn’t take long for his breath to get heavy, the small snores escaping him making you smile. As you skim through an article you might use for your essay your free hand finds his hair - his curls too soft to resist running your hand through. His snoring stops as your hand first makes contact making you freeze, but he’s nuzzling into the pillow and snoring again before you know it.

Even after you’ve read the article your hand stays in his hair and you do your best to type with one hand, only opting to use your right hand when absolutely necessary. You were in tweaking stages so luckily you could keep one hand planted in his hair most of the time. You’re checking the clock here and there, knowing he didn’t set an alarm and that he didn’t like napping too long on game days, but just as you’re about to wake him he leans into your touch, eyes slowly blinking open as he hums, absentmindedly you brush his hair away from his forehead - “sleep well?”

“Like a baby” he smiles, “what time is it?”

“uh, two-thirty” you glance over at the little clock on your computer.

He leans into your hand one more time as if to savor the feel before he starts to get up, once on his feet he stretches his arms above his head, you can’t help but look as his t-shirt lifts to reveal his stomach, but you avert your eyes quickly and hope he doesn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t comment, “want me to make dinner for you too?” he throws the words your way over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu?” you tease, fully well knowing the answer, even saying it with him once he replies - “chicken and pasta”.

You turn your head to look at him, and he can’t bring himself to be annoyed at you when you smirk at him.

“Yeah, yeah” he brushes you off - “do you want some or no?”

“Yes, please” you smile.

He quickly makes the food, the recipe burned into his brain from making it time after time. He puts a little extra cheese on your plate, coming over to the couch with both plates once he’s done. You close your computer, place it to the side, and take the plate he hands to you with ease. Once your plates are scraped it’s time for Tyson to get ready, change into his suit and leave for the arena.

He walks out of his room wearing one of his three-piece suits and if you didn’t have the restraint you’d built up over the time you’d lived with him you’re sure you would’ve drooled at the sight. You’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you’d never let your weakness for the vest-jacket pairing slip, and he looks oblivious as he meets your eyes. The little spin he does for you does nothing to help and you have to give yourself credit for being so collected when he raises his brows as if to ask: “Is this alright?”.

“Looking good, Tys. I’ll see you after the game” you get off the couch as you speak and give him a quick hug, his phone pinging with a message signaling that JT is waiting for him downstairs as you break away.

“See you later,” he says.

“Kick some Dallas butt.”

He laughs as he walks through the door leaving you to yourself. You don’t wait long until you start getting ready yourself, not being able to focus on your writing with the anticipation of the game in the back of your mind. You put your lucky Avalance hoodie on, grabbing your coat before leaving with more than enough time to catch the warm-ups. There’s a couple of familiar faces there when you arrive. You’d met the players’ girlfriends a few times, mostly in this exact setting and you fell right back into the group again. You felt for them, having to watch their boyfriends play such an unpredictable sport. You guess you could imagine how it felt at least a little, living with Tyson and all, but the energy they brought to every game was admirable.

The game was tight, the boys fell behind in the first period but in the second and third they were no doubt the better team, but the puck just wouldn’t go in the net. With ten minutes left they manage to tie it and with 5 minutes left Tyson takes a tripping penalty. They killed the penalty and scored not long after to secure the win, but you could see Tyson beating himself up over the penalty that could’ve cost them the game. The look on his face as he sat in the penalty box is something you keep in the back of your mind as you leave with the girls to meet him.

He’s one of the first ones to come out of the locker rooms, head hanging low. Gabe pats him on the shoulder before he greets his wife, Tyson throws a forced smile towards his captain that seems genuine to anyone that doesn’t know him the way you do. The smile reaches his eyes once he sees you though and he drapes his arm over your shoulder when he reaches you, leading you towards the garage - “Let’s go home”

To be continued...

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #op:w #nhl fic

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