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cremedensada · 7 months ago

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Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai)

this,,,, may not be my best work yet.

part one

Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.

Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.

Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.

We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!

You blink.

With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.

You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.

It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.

You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.

Resignation — that was what you felt right now.

While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.

You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.

So you've developed a solution. Sort of.

You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.

I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.

You wait for his response.

Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?

Ai: You wound me, darling.

You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.

Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.

Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.

Ai: Talk to you later?

Sure.

You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.

A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?

A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.

It's been days since I last heard you say it.

You merely glance at it and swipe it away.

Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.

You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.

You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.

Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.

The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.

Rather, he bides his time.

Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.

There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.

You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.

You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.

Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?

Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.

Ai: What more should I do, hm?

Ai: Kneel? How cruel.

Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.

You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.

Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.

Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?

Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.

Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.

Ai: To love you.

Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?

Ai: I love you.

You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.

Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'

It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'

You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.

Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.

At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.

But could you really?

Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.

Fuck.

You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?

You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.

You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.

RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX

Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.

I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.

I love you.

You press send and wait.

And wait.

Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he wants like with your phone.

You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.

All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.

A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.

Theodore Callisto.

Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.

This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.

At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.

How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...

I hope you keep your word, darling.

- Your beloved, Ai.

P's. I love you too.

#sub yandere #sub character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #oc: ai

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misty-gold · 2 years ago

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Weh

#finally updated the app to stop missing out on polls #i hate it here #why move things out of place!! why the share links are annoying now #why did they change the ask borders to that ugly square outline #why is the ask button on blogs so close to the other buttons #i hate change and those small ✨updates✨ im cringing #wondering if it was worth it to be able to see the blue tags and polls #(skip to me after 3 days and those changes won't bother me anymore but. why change. it bad.)#misty rambles in the tags #too much rambling to put on a proper post plus i don't want people to reblog it #meh #im back from hiatus too i think. lets see if depression gets worse again #UPDATE WHY IS THERE ADS ON MY OWN BLOG PAGE #GET OUT #ok nvm i wont get used to THIS #get out of my house

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jenscx · 25 days ago

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HIT ME UP — uchinaga aeri

aeri’s never had much luck with love. countless blind dates, dating apps, mutual friends, nothing came out of those. but wait, who is that girl in her best friend’s instagram and why is she so pretty?

tags fluff, no angst, non-idol au, open your eyes to see jiminjeong, mutual pining (for literally a sec), cursing, aeri pov centric

wordcount 6.0k

🎙️ author’s note: happy aeri day! lots of love to our favourite hot girl gigi 🤍 can’t express how much i love aeri and her contribution to aespa as a member >< i hope that everyone enjoys reading this fic and for aeri to enjoy her birthday!

uchinaga aeri, half-japanese and half-korean, age twenty three, has never dated anyone before in her life. well, not officially. she doesn’t really count the situationships or talking stages she’s had. aeri would say that the lack of love in her life would be due to her bougie choices in character. her taste is just a little more refined, detailed, specialised, whatever you want to call it. jimin calls it picky while yizhuo applauds her for knowing what she wants in a partner.

something that definitely attracted her would be a strong personality, a little bold and courageous but also sweet and caring. isn’t that a nice criteria to have? aeri doesn’t think she’s asking for much here. yet, her simple standards seem a reach too far compared to the personalities she’s met lately. even jimin can’t help but wince at the blind dates aeri has gone on.

because aeri loves everyone, as long as they’re pretty, she’s been on dates with many, regardless of gender. and well, she can’t really say that one outweighs the other. this one guy she met at the gym had told her she needed more tips on weightlifting and had gone into a rant about protein shakes.

needless to say, as much as she loves the gym, aeri could not really stand an hour long conversation about protein shakes of all things.

and that girl who seemed way more interested in the oat milk in aeri’s latte than her. that was a strange date. aeri scrunches her nose in distaste at the reminder. another date she’d been on, helpfully supplied by yizhuo, the girl was gorgeous and incredibly sweet. but the moment aeri had said she was a scorpio, her date started acting like aeri killed her dog. which, by the way, she never would. she loves dogs and even has two cute ones herself! and then her date had the nerve to storm out of the restaurant too. what a shitshow.

(“oh… maybe i shouldn’t be friends with her either,” yizhuo comments after aeri recites the incident to her.

“do you think she’ll burst into flames if you tell her you’re a scorpio as well?” jimin asks, so genuinely that aeri almost chokes to death while laughing.)

anyway, so what if aeri’s luck with dating is trash? her life has been fine for twenty three years and it’s not like having a partner will drastically change her for the good. she’s been enjoying this single life. she never has to update anyone about her whereabouts, she doesn’t have to reply to texts immediately, everything she buys is for herself. what a wonderful life. some call it miserable, others call it unhealthy. she calls it being free.

okay, maybe it is a little sad coming home to an empty apartment with no one to greet her. aeri does feel envious when her friends meet up and they talk about their own significant others. but that envy isn’t enough for her to throw herself down into that torturous rabbit hole of dating again. if only she had a friend that she could fall in love with or something. like a cute friends to lovers situation. or if she tripped and fell over the love of her life. the stars aligned, ‘we’re soulmates’ type.

not to mention that ever since moving back to korea from the states, her parents have been pressuring her to find someone. while korea and japan aren’t aeons apart, aeri doesn’t really have the comfort of family. her friends do offer some semblance of home but it just doesn’t feel the same. after confiding in her mother, aeri was told that a partner would fill in the gap her parents left.

she’s getting a little delirious and the idea of falling in love has become more of a chore than blessing. aeri slumps against her bedframe, scowling at her phone blowing up. if she were still on a dating app, the notifications could be due to matches or dates that were too clingy. but she’s sworn off dating apps for good and that chain of messages could only be sent by yu jimin.

jimin [6.19pm]:

omg guys

i think i just met the loml

holy shit shes so cute

im in love

can sm1 find her @

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

who

jimin [6.20pm]:

uhmmmmm

minjeong?

her cup says that

yizhuo [6.20pm]:

are you serious 😐

jimin [6.21pm]:

STOP SHES LOOKING AT ME

AAAAAAA

aeri [6.22pm]:

girl shut up

she throws her phone aside as jimin’s cries for help go unanswered. jimin breaking down would be cute if aeri wasn’t going through an existential crisis right now. the thought of never finding someone truly for her looms over her head. her whole ‘i don’t need a man’ (or woman) persona crumbles instantly the moment she reaches her bedroom. the facade falls immediately, only leaving behind a lonely girl who just has bad luck.

jimin continues to flounder around and seemingly the pings stop (aeri lets out a sigh of relief), before they come back in full force in the form of a video call.

aeri reaches for her phone and waits a few seconds just to torture jimin before picking up.

“uhm, hello?”

“oh my goodness— what is wrong with you two? have you not read my messages!” jimin whispers harshly. a grainy, pixelated version of her friend appears on screen. the only recognisable feature of jimin is her pale, glowy skin shining in the moonlight as her dark hair wisps around behind her.

staring blankly, aeri repeats, “hello?”

“hi, yes! okay, so i just met this girl and—”

yizhuo’s voice cuts through, “does it really count as meeting her though?”

aeri sees jimin rolling her eyes before she reluctantly pouts, “no, but that’s not the point. the point is that she’s really cute, like marriage-worthy cute. and i need her instagram now.”

“you think we can find it?” yizhuo asks, unamused.

“well, she was wearing our old high school jacket and you guys know a lot of people!” jimin’s logic, sometimes flawed, did make sense to aeri this time. she and yizhuo were like social butterflies back in high school and jimin’s assumption would be right.

“what was her name again?” aeri asks, just to get jimin to shut up. for a girl that was so elegant and graceful, jimin really was a loser sometimes. it was difficult at first to adjust from the girl crush jimin to the loser jimin but after being friends for so long, aeri has learnt to accept both sides of her personality.

jimin perks up, her forehead gleaming on the screen, “minjeong! isn’t it such a cute name? cute name for a cute girl… heh. she looked like a puppy too, like a tint maltese. she has short blonde hair too. almost shoulder length?”

aeri isn’t too sure on how the description of her looking like a maltese helps in their investigation but whatever floats jimin’s boat, she guesses. she watches as yizhuo disappears from the frame and jimin walks home, humming to herself.

a few minutes later, while she and jimin are discussing new hair colours, yizhuo pops back into frame, exclaiming with glee, “i found her!”

and aeri can only watch as jimin trips over air, almost in slow motion, and face plants into the ground.

“c’mon, ningie! please!” aeri widens her eyes while jimin almost gets on her knees, her hands pleading. who knew jimin would get so desperate for some girl’s instagram? definitely not aeri.

yizhuo only huffs, “i want something in return.”

“anything! really!” the older girl is so close to downright begging that aeri considers stepping in for a second before yizhuo inevitably reads out loud, “mj underscore zero one zero one and i want free lunch for the rest of the week. aeri unnie included.”

aeri grins brightly as jimin scrambles to type the username into her search bar. she fist bumps yizhuo, smiling at the thought of free food.

“oh my gosh, thank you!” jimin squeals, planting a wet kiss on yizhuo’s cheek.

“how’d you find her instagram?” aeri asks curiously. yizhuo shrugs, wiping the lipstick mark left behind coolly, “my friend follows her. asked around for a bit and now people think she owes me money or something.”

aeri stifles a giggle at that and turns her attention back to jimin, who’s still staring at her phone in awe. her fingers are fervently scrolling and swiping, tapping away on the screen. jimin’s devotion to find this mystery girl’s instagram is insane and it brings out the slightest bit of curiosity in aeri.

hence, she peeks over jimin’s shoulder and for her lacklustre description of minjeong, it’s well-fitting, surprisingly.

“she does look like a maltese,” are aeri’s first words. jimin swerves her head back, smiling widely, “i know right!”

“oh, she’s really cute,” aeri notes. minjeong is pretty, like a doll. jimin sends her a withering glare but she just ignores it. the girl is pretty, but not her type. and she definitely isn’t planning on competing in some competition for minjeong’s love alongside her own best friend.

“she’s friends with a lot of unnies,” yizhuo says, listing them off her fingers, “nayeon unnie, jeongyeon unnie, momo unnie— well, that whole friend group. jennie unnie too. and you know mijoo unnie? she’s friends with her too.”

jimin visibly deflates while aeri tries to cheer her up, “but they’re all friends only though, right?”

yizhuo nods, “yup, i haven’t heard of minjeong ever dating anyone either.”

her comment resonates with aeri and a small part of her commends minjeong for not succumbing to the horrors of dating.

with aeri’s words of encouragement, jimin continues to scroll, albeit slower now and not as enthusiastic. she eventually reaches the end of all of minjeong’s posts and hastily scrolls back up.

“check her highlights too,” aeri demands, terribly invested. jimin follows suit, clicking on the first story highlight. it’s full of food that has aeri salivating and jimin swallowing her saliva. yizhuo only watches on, uninterested.

then, jimin clicks on one that’s named ‘solos’ and aeri hears her choke up. the highlight is filled with selfies and photos of minjeong. all very cute and adorable. she internally rolls her eyes and begs jimin to hurry through the stories instead of staring intently at each one. minjeong’s feed is nice, aeri thinks. it’s clean and simple but it still shows enough of her personality.

when jimin finally swipes to the last highlight, aeri’s jaw visibly drops.

“oh my god,” she gapes, snatching jimin’s phone away into her own hands, “who is that?”

“hey! give it back!”

“stop it!” aeri swats jimin’s hand away and with miraculous strength, evades all of her reaches and manages to zoom into the story. minjeong, her face propped up by her palm, and next to her, aeri believes is aphrodite reincarnated. bright doe eyes, pouty lips— oh, aeri might be in love.

she was about to discover if it was possible to lose her voice solely from screaming inside her head.

“oh shit, do you think that’s her girlfriend?” jimin gasps as soon as she sees the story as well and the fight for her phone goes forgotten. they both stare in bewilderment at the photo.

yizhuo eventually pries their fingers off jimin’s phone, sneering, “close your mouth, both of you. she’s y/n.”

aeri jumps into action at her words, “you know this girl? who is she? what’s her name?”

“calm down, damn.”

“sorry— this is the literal love of my life?”

jimin frowns, “that’s what i said about minjeong and you called me deluded.”

ignoring jimin.

“i don’t know her, i know of her,” yizhuo rolls her eyes again. aeri purses her lips at the brattiness of the youngest. since when was their baby so sassy? maybe jimin was too irritating. aeri would understand if that were the case.

“just stalk her account. minjeong definitely tagged her somewhere or she’s in the comments,” jimin suggests.

aeri hollers, “you’re a genius!” it’s her first time saying that to jimin.

through sheer determination and will (yizhuo calls it stupidity), she manages to find minjeong replying to a certain commenter.

mj_0101 been away

view all comments

1eeyn i see how it is.. no creds at all

↳ mj_0101 photo creds to my bae

“bae?! jimin— oh my fucking god!” aeri screeches and thank god they’re in jimin’s room and not in public. yizhuo has the gall to cover her ears even though aeri’s been on the receiving end of her dolphin shrieks before.

equally distressed, jimin lets out a choked sob, “of course the pretty girls are dating!”

“guys, i just said they’re only friends.”

“and how do you know that?!”

yizhuo shoots a glare and jimin immediately cowers beside aeri.

“because i know them, duh. y’all are stupid. the moment you two see pretty girls it’s like your ability to think disappears.”

well that, aeri can’t disagree. her brain had no thoughts when she first saw minjeong’s story. just sunshine and rainbows. maybe the distant chiming of wedding bells. or a white, sparkly dress with a long train.

as she gets lost in her thoughts, jimin pries her fingers away from the phone, detaching them carefully. when aeri frowns at her action, the older one merely shrugs, “stalk her on your own phone.”

begrudgingly, she does so, searching up this mystery girl’s instagram. it’s pretty empty, mostly just pictures of nature and food. sometimes she throws in a selfie that makes aeri’s heart clench.

“fuck,” she groans, feeling her throat choke up, “she’s so my type.”

jimin nods in agreement even though aeri’s sure she didn’t hear a word she said. yizhuo rolls her eyes (how many times has she done that?).

“you think she’s into girls?” aeri asks, showing yizhuo a story highlight of some vinyls with clairo’s one right at the front.

“maybe. i don’t know her too well. i heard she’s kind of scary though, like cold and intimidating. she punched someone for picking on minjeong once.”

aeri lets out a huff, one of sheer amazement. lord knows she needs a woman who can fight.

“aeri-ah,” jimin suddenly calls out from her bed.

“yes?”

she gulps, swallowing harshly, “if you text her, i’ll text minjeong.”

yizhuo hums, “you two do that.”

she mulls it over. texting this pretty girl? who’s insanely her type? maybe. what if you were an asshole though? she’s not too sure about whether minjeong would be friends with you if you were mean but she thinks back to your face.

god, she needs you biblically.

“okay, let’s get girlfriends!”

she doesn’t text you at all. it’s a little embarrassing to admit but aeri’s scared! what if she just gets ignored? she couldn’t get her ego bruised like that. and jimin’s no help either! constantly texting her to dm you first even though aeri knows that jimin stares at the empty private chat with minjeong every night.

what she does do is first of all, create another account that’s completely blank, void of any recognition for aeri. then she watches your stories. on repeat. and on one uneventful tuesday, your profile lights up with a ring around it. aeri can’t help herself from viewing it immediately.

and maybe she shouldn’t have, since she’s seething by the time yizhuo texts her.

yizhuo [1.43pm]:

hey guys…

has any1 seen y/n’s story?

jimin [1.44pm]:

minjeong’s account is burned into my screen

but no ☺️

aeri [1.44pm]:

i’m gonna kill myself

jimin [1.46pm]:

😨⁉️

she almost actually throws her phone this time. aeri wants to die. she wants to puke.

what the actual fuck.

her phone rings— she picks up on the first ring.

“so…” yizhuo starts awkwardly.

“what’s going on?! aeri, don’t kill yourself?! you’re my best friend and i might also die without you! i love you, aeri—”

aeri cries out, “she has a girlfriend!”

the other side of the phone goes eerily quiet before jimin’s forehead pops up on screen and her eyebrows are nearly touching her hairline.

“WHAT?!”

“she just posted a photo of her kissing some girl’s cheek!” aeri screeches.

yizhuo winces before adding unhelpfully, “her girlfriend’s pretty though.”

“not the point— also yeah, agreed. but still! what am i gonna do now?!”

jimin frowns, “you can still be friends with her, right?”

“well… i was going to try to hit her up first,” aeri pouts, feeling devastated. she hadn’t even gotten a chance to woo you, and no way was she going to get in the way of a happy relationship! aeri was many things, but she wasn’t a homewrecker.

“maybe you can salvage a friendship out of this,” yizhuo suggests thoughtfully. aeri nods. maybe she should at least try to be friends rather than pursue a romantic relationship. she needed to expand her social circle anyway from just jimin and yizhuo.

“jimin, this means you have to text minjeong now.”

“what?! i’m not ready!”

“it’s just a text! like her story or something!”

jimin stares at her through the screen, affronted. aeri connects the dots quickly enough, “wait, don’t tell me you have been liking all her stories?”

“okay, maybe i have! that’s not a crime. and she liked one of my stories back! the one i posted when we went to eat hotpot! i’m way farther in this than you are—”

aeri hangs up. she can’t deal with a gloating jimin right now.

she needs a clear mind. she needs to think about her next course of action. all that was occupying her mind during the past few days was a wedding with you, but now aeri has a few adjustments to make.

swiping back to your story, aeri frowns. she clicks to the previous one. it’s a photo of you playing with a dog, an adorable samoyed. the background has a few other dogs, so you were probably at a dog cafe.

with your girlfriend, aeri sighs.

she types out, ‘omg where is this?’ it feels friendly and innocent enough. and aeri totally knows which dog cafe you’re at. it’s a rather popular one that she has visited herself.

before aeri can even think again, she sends the message.

god, she should really stop letting jimin get to her head.

within seconds, there’s a reply that makes aeri’s heart soar.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

it’s winters village in hongdae!

you’re really pretty btw

score! aeri’s got this in the bag!

she enters the chat and replies with a speed that makes the flash quiver.

aerichandesu [2.10pm]:

omg thankuu 💗

you’re super cute too

you don’t reply but aeri spots the tiny green circle next to your name. you’re online. but why aren’t you replying? was there nothing to reply to? aeri feels her heart sink a little lower. the chat doesn’t pop up with another message and aeri throws her phone aside.

she can’t let a girl plague her mind! aeri’s better than this! puffing her chest out, aeri gathers all the grit and willpower she has in herself and leaves the app.

aeri continues this pattern for the next few days; every time you posted a story, she would slide up. it only started to feel a bit one-sided when you started replying with short and curt responses. maybe you got weirded out by aeri, and she wouldn’t even blame you. sometimes she would send messages at midnight and wake up in the morning, cursing the vulnerability she had previously. she would read back at the chat, cringing at her overeager attitude. even jimin called her out on it! and if even jimin found it weird, aeri must have seemed absolutely psychotic.

“girl, i think you have to stop,” yizhuo says one day.

“stop with what?” aeri asks but she knows damn well what yizhuo’s talking about. jimin’s head perks up, her cheeks stuffed with ramen that aeri so graciously cooked for her when the older had complained about her hunger.

after swallowing, jimin giggles, “your little thing with your girl.”

“uhm, what?”

“i think you’re creeping her out,” yizhuo shakes her head, “if i had this stranger, no matter how cute they are, constantly texting me first, i would be a little scared.”

aeri pouts, feeling admonished, “i haven’t texted her in two days. she isn’t interested.”

“oh thank goodness,” the chinese girl sighs in relief, “i thought you went all joe goldberg on her.”

“i’m not joe! and i would never do that to someone!”

“well, i was worried anyway.”

jimin nudges her shoulder, “there’s a lot of fish in the ocean, right?”

rolling her eyes, aeri pinches at jimin’s side, “imagine if i said that about minjeong.”

“why would you ever say that about minjeong?” jimin furrows her brows, “and i actually texted her.”

aeri shoots up, the thought of her disastrous love life long forgotten as jimin reveals this new information.

“you did?! holy shit, congrats dude!”

jimin looks away, sheepish, “i replied to her story and she said that she remembers me from school. i don’t know how i missed seeing someone like her around. she said she really likes bowling, so i’m thinking of bringing her to bowl.”

genuinely happy for her friend, aeri pats her on the back while yizhuo gives a pleased nod. aeri kind of wishes her endeavour with you could go this smoothly. she certainly doesn’t remember you from school, nor does it seem you remember her. maybe you just weren’t in the same classes.

“guess it’s just me now, huh?” aeri laughs, despite the slight embarrassment she feels from being ignored.

jimin pouts, “you’ll find someone better.”

aeri thinks of the way her heart flutters when you reply or post something new, and she thinks that she’s never felt this strongly attracted to someone before without even knowing them.

yeah, she doesn’t think she will.

aeri’s totally fine. she’s gone two weeks without even glancing at your profile and she’s okay. there were some withdrawal symptoms at first, like the increasing urge to reply to your story or like it, but aeri’s determination outweighs her adoration. thus, she lives life without ever thinking about you again.

(that was a lie. she still wonders about it at night.)

yizhuo had applauded her ‘getting over’ you and so had jimin, who was barely online nowadays because she was hanging out with minjeong. aeri’s glad her best friend has found someone she likes. and she’s over the moon that jimin has found a new victim for her teasing. apparently, minjeong had better reactions, so yizhuo and aeri cheered knowing minjeong would suffer now.

jimin had been bugging them to finally meet minjeong and hang out as a group for the longest time. aeri doesn’t know if she actually brought her to that bowling date but the restaurant they picked out is expensive and jimin’s paying. so naturally, she agrees instantly.

what jimin doesn’t say is that minjeong would be bringing someone along.

coincidentally, you.

hence, aeri’s sitting right across from you, not daring to lift her head up in fear that she might make eye contact. after acting so desperate in your dms, aeri would rather die than face you directly.

you stare at her bizarrely as minjeong introduces you to jimin’s friends.

“this is yizhuo and aeri, we all went to the same high school together,” minjeong informs you, “but i don’t think we ever crossed paths before.”

“no, we haven’t,” you confirm. aeri glances at you meekly before darting her gaze to the menu.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” yizhuo smiles sweetly, making up for the silence that aeri provided. you’re still a little confused as to why aeri wasn’t talking right now.

maybe she thinks you don’t recognise her? but you do. she’s the pretty girl that randomly popped up one day and started replying to your stories.

“nice to meet you too,” you grin, “nice to see you in person as well, aeri-ssi.”

you watch, surprised, as aeri barely acknowledges your words, only nodding slightly. wasn’t she quite bold online? why was she acting like this now?

“shall we order?” jimin asks, snapping the menu shut. after calling over the waiter, you shift your eyes back to aeri, staring appreciatively at her outfit. one thing you noticed from her instagram feed was that she dressed well. you wanted to ask her where she shops but she seemed a second away from exploding.

you whip out your phone, earning a flinch from aeri.

y/n bae [7.24pm]:

is smth wrong w aeri?

mindoongie [7.24pm]:

uhmm idk 😓

idt she’s usually like this

jiminie said she’s quite sociable

awesome. so that meant you were the problem.

resting your head on your palm, you turn your attention to yizhuo, asking, “what are you currently studying?”

“oh, i’m doing fashion design,” she answers, twirling the knife.

“that’s interesting. could you ever design something for me one day?”

yizhuo chuckles, “i’ll cast you as my model if i get big. what about you?”

“i’ll definitely pursue something in modelling but i’m studying medicine right now.”

engrossed in your conversation, you barely notice aeri’s pout. the girl seemed a little too timid and shy as to what you’ve seen online. and minjeong and jimin seemed to be talking about something else.

“y/n, are you dating anyone right now?” yizhuo asks suddenly. you falter, recalling the girl you had just broken up with a few days ago, “ah, no. not currently.”

in your haste to recover, you miss the nudge yizhuo gives go aeri.

spurred on, aeri asks, “do you have time to date while studying?”

“hm, it was manageable,” you reply, “it got tiring when she needed a lot of my time though.”

aeri stares at you wistfully before coughing.

you wonder why she asked that.

[aerichandesu] 1eeyn

hi, can u help me say thanku to jimin?

for taking care of my best friend

aeri blinks at the message. it’s the first time you’ve texted her first.

aerichandesu [10.43pm]:

sure

she still feels awkward for acting so desperate previously. it doesn’t feel right to act like that anymore. and aeri does feel a little bad for how cold she was during dinner.

1eeyn [10.44pm]:

thank u aeri chan

aeri-chan? where did that come from? suddenly, she feels the stutter in her heart resurfacing after she had tried to bury it.

1eeyn [10.45pm]:

we didn’t get to talk much, huh?

aerichandesu [10.45pm]:

no sorry

i wasn’t feeling well

it feels like the safest lie she can tell.

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s a shame

are you feeling better now?

aerichandesu [10.46pm]

yes, i am

1eeyn [10.46pm]:

that’s good

rest well aeri-chan 💗

oh my god, aeri needs to text the group chat!

over the next few days, you were relentless with your texts. it felt like you and aeri had swapped roles. she didn’t know to adapt to this new side of you without seeming like a bumbling fool. you would send selfies! selfies! asking aeri for her opinion. the first time you sent one, aeri’s nose started bleeding and she scared jimin half to death, thinking aeri was dying.

(“she sent me a selfie! of her face!” aeri wails, covering her nose with bloody tissues.

jimin grimaces at the blood, “well, yes. selfies are usually of someone’s face.”)

then, you would send your outfits, or whatever you ate that day. slowly, aeri started warming up to you too and would begin to send her own photos. normally she would send photos of her dogs or jimin and yizhuo being silly. then they evolved into selfies.

aeri likes what she has with you right now. you were building up a friendship that aeri appreciated. she liked your humour and personality as well, complementing her own rather nicely. minjeong and jimin begin dating as well, making your proximity even closer as the two would constantly drag everyone to hangouts. to be frank, aeri can’t believe that this all started because jimin saw a cute girl at a cafe, but somehow, it makes sense too.

how an insignificant moment such as minjeong deciding to buy coffee that day helped aeri gain two new best friends, she would never know. but she liked it. it felt like fate. leaning on your shoulder, aeri shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“no scary movies please,” jimin begs, tugging at minjeong’s shirt. yizhuo laughs and eggs minjeong on to pick a horror film while aeri stares at her best friends affectionately.

“you like scary movies?” you whisper to aeri.

she shakes her head, already feeling shivers run down her spine at the thought of being jumpscared countless times. jimin’s reaction would be funny as hell. but no way was she sacrificing her own sanity for something like that. if she wanted jimin to go insane, she had ten other ways to do that.

“nooo not the conjuring please!”

aeri cowers into herself, dreading the night already. this was a weekly occurrence, having a movie night at jimin’s apartment. it started with just the three of them and then minjeong and you got invited soon after. the honour of picking a movie was passed down every week and aeri detests it when it’s minjeong’s turn. that girl would pick scary films just to annoy jimin and aeri always gets caught in the crossfire somehow.

“don’t worry, minjeongie wants to watch despicable me tonight. she’s just playing with jimin,” you comfort. aeri nods as minjeong hovers exceptionally long on the nun before finally moving to despicable me. jimin cheers in exhilaration and yizhuo boos.

“oh my gosh, babe! i love the minions!”

“minions and despicable me are two different movies!” yizhuo sneers. just as the movie starts, jimin, minjeong and yizhuo begin bickering. aeri knows how the argument will end— with jimin apologising and minjeong and yizhuo emerging victorious.

a gush of hot air beside her ear makes her jump, “they’re cute, aren’t they?”

aeri follows your gaze to where jimin and minjeong’s fingers are interwoven even though they’re arguing.

“yeah, silly but cute.”

you chuckle, slipping your hand into aeri’s under the blanket, “we can’t lose to them, right?”

she gets caught off guard for just a second before bouncing back.

“no, i’ll never lose to jimin.”

your laugh makes aeri’s cheeks heat up slightly. as you ramble on about the movie, she listens to every word attentively, wanting to savour the smoothness and richness of your voice. her smaller hand stays tight in your bigger one, feeling the warmth emitting from your palm.

aeri’s heart feels content.

she’s happy here, being friends with you.

unfortunately (or fortunately), the friendship doesn’t last for long.

after that particular movie night, aeri has noticed a change in your behaviour. you’ve become touchier, for lack of a better term. more lingering touches around her shoulder, hands, waist, wrists, wherever her skin was. you would gaze into her eyes before smiling shyly and looking away. you would offer to bring her lunch even though she knows you’re busy with your internship. not to mention the influx of messages. if aeri thought your selfies were bad for her heart before, it resembled a tsunami drowning her heart now.

photos, of every kind, most of them in your scrubs and uniform, smiling at the camera gleefully, as if you weren’t working an all-nighter. and on your off-days, aeri finds you staying up to talk to her. she’s busy during the day, so she doesn’t really check her phone often. when she finally does, she’s welcomed by your chat. the once intimidating girl that she admired online had turned into the girl that camped in her dms.

she had asked before, why you would text her so much. your response had been equally confusing, asking her back if she wanted you to stop. of course not. the aeri a few months ago wished for days that you would reply with more than four words. now, it seemed like you constantly had paragraphs of stories to tell her. not that she was complaining.

then, one day, the messages stop. aeri’s a little bewildered when she checks her phone and nothing’s there but she goes to bed anyway. maybe you were working a really long shift? sometimes she would catch you at four in the morning, so perhaps you were catching up on some much needed sleep.

but when she wakes up the next day, there’s only a lone message asking for her to meet you.

aeri agrees, yet she can’t help but wonder about the spontaneous nature of the message. it was sent in the morning, so it seemed like you had been thinking about it all night.

after dressing herself, she left her apartment, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing you again. the last time you met face to face was over a week ago and aeri’s suffering from y/n drought.

you had requested to meet at lunchtime and when aeri arrives at the restaurant, you’re already there, seated and deep in thought.

“hey,” she greets, “slept well?”

you didn’t, but you nod anyway.

“did you have a shift yesterday?” aeri asks as you order your regulars.

“uhm, no. sorry i didn’t text you, i was busy doing something else.”

“nah, it’s fine. i was helping ning with her designs anyway.”

you nod stiffly and aeri reaches out a hand to cover yours, “are you good? you seem a little off.”

“i’m fine!” your voice comes out squeakier than usual but aeri brushes it off.

“so, what’s up?” she finally asks.

you tap your fingernails on the table, gulping harshly, “i just wanted to talk.”

“mhm, sure.”

“i wanted to know… well… uhm, if you were still interested in me,” you ask, eyes flickering to aeri hesitantly. aeri gapes at you before stammering, “wh-why? what— what do you mean?”

you inhale sharply, “i know you were interested in me at the start, but are you still interested now?”

aeri withdraws her hand, “uh, why?”

furrowing your eyebrows, you grit your teeth, “please just tell me.”

“uhm. well… yes? but why—”

“because i’m interested. and i want to find out if the feeling’s the same,” you blurt out. aeri’s eyes widen considerably and if your heart wasn’t racing a mile, you would coo at her cuteness.

“if you were interested before… why didn’t you say anything?” aeri asks, her voice trailing off at the end. you sigh, pinching your nose bridge, “i was dating someone at the time. it wasn’t right for me to encourage someone who liked me that much.”

aeri nods, already feeling guilty for her desperation before.

“i’m sorry for my coldness but i could already tell you were interested in me and as someone who had a girlfriend then, i couldn’t message back with the same eagerness,” you explain.

“no, it’s fine. that was a stupid question but uhm, i thought you didn’t like me back.”

“we became friends first, then i started to have feelings for you. as i learnt more about you, i started to like you more.”

aeri feels a little silly with her immediate infatuation. huh. maybe she got her ‘friends to lovers’ trope after all.

“i hope that now, i can take you on a date?” you ask and how can aeri refuse that? your bright, gleaming, expectant eyes? aeri felt her heart crushed with adoration.

“yes, obviously. you’re my ideal type and everything. you know i had thoughts about our wedding when i first met you—”

“oh, is that why you were so quiet that night?”

“yeah, you just looked really pretty under the lighting and i already started to imagine how you would look like dressed in all white and how our wedding would seem, maybe i would pick yizhuo as my maid of honour and minjeong could be yours but jimin would totally throw a fuss and—”

you smile widely as aeri babbles on, chiming in every once in a while to insert your own thoughts.

when she finally finishes, the expression on your face makes her whole being ascend.

maybe all those useless blind dates with shitty luck amounted to her finding the love of her life.

thank you! aeri would later exclaim to that horoscope-obsessed girl and the gym rat. who knew that those catastrophic dates would finally gift her you, her first girlfriend (and last!).

#aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #giselle x reader #uchinaga aeri x reader #aeri x reader

565 notes · View notes

tddyhyck · 1 year ago

Text

has never went to oovoo javer

pairings ⇢ uber driver!hyuck x afab!reader

warnings ⇢ strangers???, protected sex (kinda), car sex, thigh riding, fingering, oral (m receiving/slight f receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (f), mentions of being high, squirting, lip ring hyuck OFC, also big fat cock hyuck agenda, roleplay

word count ⇢ 4.1k

a/n ⇢ i dreamed this or something i swear, also thank u hua my bestie for letting me talk about this as always 🤭🤭

masterlist

you didn’t take uber’s often, usually opting for carpooling with friends or using public transport, but when you did you always got the same driver. he was pretty nice all of the times you met him, not bothering you with talking unless you started the conversation and even handing you candy after the third time you rode with him.

he was really attractive too, at least from the backseat and from his uber profile picture he seemed to update regularly. he had longish dark hair, plush rosy lips with a pretty silver lip ring, and he wore an insane amount of rings that suited him.

you always wondered if he had some sort of other job or if he was just an uber driver. he seemed like someone who would be in a band or work at a grocery store. there was noi-between. you were nosy but never wanted to pry since he was just your always uber driver.

today was different for you though you had left your friends late so you couldn’t take the bus and your friends were high just like you. so you got on your little uber app and waited to see who it was. it would almost be surprising if it wasn’t haechan, but his face popped up on the app and it made you a little giddy.

you could overthink and let your mind wander to why he was always picking you up and somehow always right around the corner but you didn’t. you liked seeing him with decorated fingers gripping the wheel while he played music you had said you liked.

so you bid your friends goodnight and hurried down the stairs to the front of the building. looking left and right to see if his familiar black suv was pulling up. you waited a minute rocking on your heels and shivering slightly when you finally saw him pulling up flipping his lights to get your attention. you scurry over to his car gripping the handle and sliding into the back seat and fixing your hair with your hands before looking up to see him staring back at you.

“hi,” you mumble, scanning his face to see his lip ring glinting in the car light.

“hi, pretty, how are you?” he responds, lips pulling into a slight smile. you don’t remember what ride he started calling you pretty on but it made you want to giggle and kick your feet.

“high and horny,” you blurt, making him throw his head back laughing. you cover your mouth quickly mortified at your confession. “fuck sorry.”

“you’re good, pretty, just don’t make a mess on my seats,” he winked before turning back around to face the front. you throw your head back to hit the headrest while heat floods your body. from both the embarrassment and the heat between your legs and his little comment didn’t help. you squeezed your legs together, the fabric of your dress riding up as you did.

the drive to your place was about 15 minutes and it was going to be complete and total torture but once you got home you could hole up in your room with a hand between your legs and release the pent-up feelings.

you had forgotten how getting high made your panties insanely wet and your body vibrate. but you remembered now staring at haechan who was tapping his ringed fingers on the steering wheel and letting his tongue swipe his lip before tugging on his lip ring with his teeth. you wondered how that would feel against your hot skin. the cool metal against your thighs while his head was between your legs teasing your cunt.

your legs pressed together again and gripped your knee with your hand. you didn’t realize a whimper had slipped out from your throat as your fingers drifted up your knee to raise the hem of your dress and make the skin of your thigh tingle.

you looked out the window hoping something could distract you from the ache between your legs and the hot guy in the front seat. you never felt his eyes floating to you through the rearview mirror, or the way he scanned you, watching the way your leg bounced and your dress rode up your soft thighs.

he could tell you weren’t being funny with your horny comment. you were on the edge of your seat needing to be touched. he wondered what you thought about maybe him touching you, fingers trailing over your skin making you twitch beneath him. now he was working himself up and letting his mind wander. he shook his head concentrating back on the road instead of your panties peeking out as the dress rose even more.

one little touch won’t hurt, right? just something to press against your pulsing core. you side-eye haechan to see him focusing on the road so you let your hand slide further up your leg. using your nondominant hand hopefully to deter you from flicking your wrist like you liked. each touch feels like something deeper and more intimate than normal, the slide of your fingers before they touch the fabric of your panties has your breath hitching.

the panties feel so soft and delicate and so damp and hot practically dripping in your arousal. your chest was almost heaving when you pressed your fingers against your center. you could feel your clit pulsing under your touch but the pressure of your digits wasn’t enough to relieve it.

haechan was still peeking back at you, gawking when your hand slipped between your legs as you leaned your forehead against the car window, your breath fogging the glass. he could feel his jeans growing tighter when you finally rocked your hips ever so slightly. he wanted to watch you, stare at you while you ground against your hand, but he was driving and he had to get you to your destination safely.

once you started moving you couldn’t stop yourself letting your hips do the work bucking perfectly against your fingers. the hot ache between your legs only felt like it was growing. chasing the relief you knew you would get when you just let yourself have it, legs shaking, the mind-numbing orgasm you craved. but you were in the back of haechan’s car so you stopped moving and huff against the window resting your forehead on the cool glass taking some of the heat from you.

taking a minute to breathe, moving your hand far away from between your legs you try to collect yourself. what the fuck were you doing? trying to get off in the back of an uber like a weird porn intro. then your mind started drifting to porn - no. focus. no dirty nasty porn brain.

“you good?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head. had he seen you? did he know you were getting freaky in his back seat?

“yeah just, yeah,” you mumble, still a little brain foggy. you look up to see him staring back at you in the rearview his eyes are darker but still as sweet as ever.

“your temp okay?” you nod knowing he can see you but still mutter a yes as your head lulls on the headrest.

“there’s a lot of traffic tonight, might take longer than normal,” he mentioned and you groan in response making him smirk to himself. it only made you want to cry. you can’t wait much longer you’re already trying to cum in the car and now there’s traffic. a cruel and unusual world to live in.

“it’ll be okay, baby, i’ll get you home safe,” he says, reaching his hand back to pat your knee. you felt like you were on fire from his pet name switching to baby and the skin-to-skin contact. you wanted him to slide his hand higher and touch you where you needed it.

you pout while you whimper mostly to yourself and grip the hem of your dress now suddenly aware of how it lays almost at your hip exposing so much skin. you don’t even recognize your hands lingering, smoothing over the fabric you relax into the feeling. closing your eyes leaning back and your hands move on their own.

it doesn’t even feel like your hands that are pulling your panties to the side letting the cool air hit your heat. your other hand finally making contact and making you sigh at the touch. your fingers swirling around your pulsing clit collecting the slick that's filled your panties. you can already feel yourself getting close, the touch finally providing what you need.

you don’t notice the boy in the driver's seat staring back at you through the mirror watching the way your face twists and mouth falls open as you flick your wrist. he’s almost drooling seeing your cunt glisten as you bring yourself closer. he watches closely but still flicks his eyes back to the road catching your hole flutter and begging to be filled.

he brings his hand to palm his jeans matching your timing, but he wants you. needs to feel you around him while he fills you up. he can only imagine the way you would wrap around him perfectly. but he can't, he really can't, you're his sweet little frequent rider who gives him the best reviews. but also you’re in his back seat cunt dripping onto his leather seats. what’s a man to do?

your hand isn’t enough so your hips start to buck against your fingers slipping and sliding against your clit and your hole. you want to slip your fingers inside and fill yourself but you need to be fast don’t savor the moment just get off.

suddenly you remember you aren’t so alone and you flutter your eyes open and see him staring back. it makes your breath hitch when you make eye contact through the mirror but you’re in too deep to stop. you almost want to go harder with how his dark eyes stare into you unapologetically looking down at your pussy.

“can you pull over,” you almost whimper and he looks back at you expression flipping between dark to concerned. wondering if you’re going to beat him up or if you want more like he does. but he doesn’t hesitate to go down a side road and find a parking lot for some privacy. he can see your fingers still moving in his peripheral vision.

when he finally pulls in and parks you waste no time unbuckling before leaning forward to tug his sweater and attach your lips to his. he doesn’t wait to reciprocate, pressing hungrily into you. his lips are just as soft as they looked at the cool metal of his piercing had your head spinning.

“is this okay?” you pull back breathing heavily and staring up at him.

“so much more than okay,” he responds, smirking over at you, and you smile back tugging his collar and making him scramble out of his seat clumsily crawling into the back with you making you laugh. you tug him to you again gripping the soft knit of his sweater as your lips find him again.

you push him to sit back but follow his lips keeping you attached to him before straddling his lap. the ripped denim covering his leg is pressing against your core and his hands are kneading your hips over your dress, but you want him closer. you grind into him and whimper into his mouth and his tongue chases your lips lapping up at them.

“more,” you whine and his hands grip your hips tighter, rocking you against his leg.

“so needy,” he breathes, sitting back to look at you with heavy eyes. your eyes are closed but you can feel him staring at you and each move you make. you lift the hem of your dress pulling it up to reveal your panties to him and the source of your moans.

he groans leaning forward to kiss your neck as his hands slide over your exposed flesh. fingers grazing under the waist of your panties, snapping them against your skin. his hands keep you from moving against him as fast as you want to and it’s frustrating but his tongue suckles your neck distracting you.

“slow down, pretty, let me make you feel good,” he whispers against your skin before blowing cool air against your neck, making you shiver.

“need more,” you whimper, but his hands slow you down before stopping you with a pout on your face. he smirks up at you before kissing your lips and turning to lay you back against the seat.

he presses against you, his body encompassing you and you feel him all around. one hand holding himself up on the seat and the other gripping your thigh fingers smoothing the skin as his lips desperately meet yours.

his lips mold to yours and you whimper against him opening your mouth to slip your tongue out sliding over his lips. he chases your tongue sucking it into his mouth. the sucking sounds filling his backseat as your saliva mixes and smears against your mouths. and you love it the messy and needy way he kisses you feels so raw and real.

your breathing is heavy in his mouth and so is his. he releases your lips letting his wet mouth roam down your face to your neck licking against the warm skin and your hands comb through his hair clinging to the strands. he's flipping your dress up again gripping higher on your thigh.

“touch me,” you whine, grabbing his wrist and moving it to graze your panties. you hear and feel him groan, vibrating against your neck making you shiver. he doesn’t hesitate to do what you say, gripping your panties and sliding them down before pulling away to fully remove them.

“fuck you’re soaked,” he moans lifting your soiled panties and swirling them around his finger to tease you.

“shut up,” you groan, covering your face with your hands but your lower half is still completely exposed to him.

“stop you’re fucking cute,” he pulls your hands away staring down at you. “can i keep these?” he smirks, nodding to the panties.

“only if you do something in the next 5 seconds,” you whine at him bucking your hips for something. he just coos down at you teasing your neediness, but he touches you, fingers pressing into your thighs dragging closer to your core. you don’t see him toss your panties into the front seat.

“you’re so fucking needy. can’t believe you were getting off in my backseat.” you mewl at his words you can’t deny it. “so fucking wet.” he whispers fingers touching your cunt and making you twitch. his fingers slide over you collecting the juices dripping out of you before bringing his fingers up in front of his face scissoring them curiously staring at the slick clinging to his digits and it only makes u more embarrassed.

“what’s got you shy? you weren’t shy earlier with your hand down your panties.” he teases before swirling his tongue around his fingers staring right at you while he does it. you try to avoid his eye contact as he tastes you on his digits.

“hmm? what is it, pretty?” you shake your head as he leans closer to you licking at your lips while his spit-covered fingers slip between you and find your core again. your mouth falls open when he uses a finger to fill you up. he watches you intently the way you try to close your mouth and bite your lip but he stops you licking over your mouth distracting you.

“don’t be quiet. let me hear you.” you nod harshly in response, moaning when his finger curls inside of you. you want more, you need more.

“more haechan, please,” you plead looking up at him and bucking your hips against him.

“huh? can't hear you.” you want to roll your eyes but you want him to fill you up more.

“more need more of you please.” you croak louder this time and he doesn’t waste time adding another finger making your legs tremble when his digits immediately curl inside of you. he leans back between your legs watching the way your cunt swallows his fingers. his hand that was holding him up is pressing your thigh backward showing you to him completely.

“so fucking pretty, take it so well yeah?” he coos staring down at you watching the way your mouth is open and fingers slide over your lips. his fingers are moving skillfully inside of you and his thumb swirls over your clit.

“is good. so good,” you manage breath caught in your throat you haven’t felt so good in so long. the pleasure taking over and swirling in your stomach tightening with each thrust.

“yeah, pretty? gonna cum huh?” his words make you cry so close to the edge. “tell me.”

“so close.” you whimper, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him to you. he’s sucking your neck instantly, keeping his hand thrusting into you.

“cum, pretty girl,” he says, and you can’t stop letting the knot in your stomach release as you do. arching into him as he works you through it, releasing on his hand and the seat beneath you. your legs close around him but he doesn’t stop until you're pulling on the hair at his nape.

he pulls away looking down between you dipping his fingers into the mess you made.

“you’re a squirter? cute,” you shake your head and want to melt into the seat. since when are you a squirter? “liar, you made such a mess.” he teases before leaning down to lick over your cunt.

“nuhuh, so much,” you whine, pushing his head away but he just smirks up at you, swirling his tongue lower to collect you on his tongue.

“you just taste so fucking good.”

“wanna taste you,” you say boldly leaning up and catching him off guard. your hands find their way to his belt fiddling with the leather.

“want to be inside you.” he counters, staring back at you gripping your wrist.

“please just-“ he cuts you off with a kiss and releases your wrist letting you unbuckle his belt and quickly tug his zipper. his lips are distracting you but you try to push him backwards to give you room to settle between his legs.

you take his clothed length in your hands and leave wet opened mouth kisses while looking at him to see his reactions. he’s staring down at you, one hand laying over his stomach and the other resting on his thigh. you sit back on your heels pulling his waistband down to let his cock slap against his stomach.

you don’t waste time leaning back down to take him in your mouth. he’s hot and heavy on your tongue and it makes you squeeze your legs together at the idea of him inside of you. you swirl your tongue and take the rest of him in your hands pumping his length.

“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he whispers, fingers pushing your hair out of your face mainly to see your eyes while you swallow around him. you push your head down to take even more of him hearing him groan and his fingers curl into your scalp.

“take me so well,” he moans, legs shaking beside your head when you moan around him. you want him to fuck your face but you decide not to ask maybe that’s too much for the back seat with your uber driver.

“fuck fuck fuck,” he says trying to push you off of him. you release him with a pop smiling up at him spit sliding down your chin.

“what?” you giggle at him using the back of your hand to swipe at the saliva.

“you’re a fucking minx,” he grins back before dragging you to him to kiss you again. he brings you close to him pulling you onto his lap you whine when you feel his cock against your folds.

“do you have protection?” he asks looking over at you.

“i’m clean but i have some,” you lean back, grabbing your long-forgotten bag.

“i’m clean too but,” he trails off when you lift the packet and tear it open. hurriedly you take it out and slide it down his length making him sigh.

“just fuck my brains out please,” you look at him with doe eyes before kissing him and lifting over his length before pressing it to your hole. you moan in unison as you sink down onto him, filling you up.

“so fucking tight,” he groans as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. you’re speechless you feel so full and overwhelmed you can barely move just have him inside of you.

“you good?” he asks, grabbing your cheeks to look at him and you nod. “tell me.” he doesn’t demand this time asking softly for you to tell him how you feel.

“so good i can’t think. ‘m so full,” you whimper, falling into his chest and you can almost tell he’s smiling when he soothes over your back and coos at you.

“poor baby,” he coos, thrusting into you. “too much?” you whine and he bucks again. “can't take my fat cock can you?” you shake your head and he thrusts with each word punctuating it.

“ha- chan,” you mewl, lips pressing into his neck. he reaches around you holding you up as he lays you back again. his hair falls in his face as he leans over you thrusting into you deeply. he keeps his pace slow but steady, not letting you miss a single drag of his cock inside of you.

he kisses the side of your open mouth before sitting up between you moving his hands to press your thighs against your chest. he stared down at the way your cunt swallows his length with each thrust completely sucking him in.

“take me so fucking well,” he groans and you feel tears slipping down your face. “letting your little uber driver fuck you such a dirty whore.”

“hyuck,” you whine, slipping from the space.

“who?” he stops his movements staring down at you. you can see he’s trying not to break but his teasing eyes almost give him away.

“haechan, harder,” you whisper, he grins at you following your instructions. deepening each stroke and pushing you into the seat.

“like that, baby?” you nod sloppily and feel the familiar feeling coming back, the sweet release so close you can almost taste it. haechan notices bringing his finger to swirl around your clit.

“pretty baby, gonna cum on my cock?” he moans looking down at you.

“so close,” you whimper back, gripping his arm tighter. he moves his arm from your grasp to lock your fingers together as he plunges into you.

“gonna let your uber driver fuck you and have you a dirty mess in his backseat, huh? little slutty thing just fucking anyone.” his filthy words are all it takes to have you clenching tightly around him mumbling incoherently as you cum. he groans at the way your pussy squeezes around him and grips him so tight.

“cum on me,” you whisper to him, head still full of pleasure but you know he’s close to his own.

“so nasty.” he groans, his hand still holding yours and the other still grips your thigh, bruising the supple flesh. you slip your hand between you pulling the condom off in one motion just as he releases, coating your messy cunt with hot white cum. “fuck.”

he slides his cock against your cunt smearing his cum and letting it mix with yours as you both catch your breath. you look down between your legs watching him grinding his cock against your clit seeing the mess you’d made.

“you’re such a freak.” he chuckles looking up at you, catching you staring.

“shut up,” you whine trying to cover your face again but he doesn’t let you. gripping your wrists and kissing you tenderly.

“we gotta divulge in your little kinks more often baby. you’re so filthy.” you want to look away because it feels like he’s staring through you.

“you’re still my uber driver, remember?” you tease him.

“oh sorry miss, we’re definitely going to have a late arrival.”

“hyuck,” you whine trying to push him away.

“you slipped with that earlier baby, so cute.” he teases again, reaching over to the glove box to grab some napkins.

“it’s hard not calling you that. you’re my hyuck,” you pout at him.

“i know and you’re my filthy slutty whorish girlfriend,” he grins mischievously, but still diligently cleaning you both up.

“and so are you.”

“i’m keeping the panties by the way.”

“like you haven’t already stolen 10 other pairs.” you roll your eyes playfully.

“it’s because i’m disgustingly obsessed with you.”

©️ tddyhyck

#haechan smut #haechan x you #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct 127 smut #haechan x y/n #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck smut

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suguful · 1 year ago

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ᥫ᭡ — the media wonders why itoshi rin’s fingers have been empty these days

╰➤ gender neutral , pro athlete au

while rin has never seemed to be the sentimental type, there’s no denying the attachment he seems to have to the promise ring always sitting on the fourth finger of his left hand. the sterling silver shines proudly wherever he goes — between run-ins with paparazzi while on trips to the grocery store, press conferences before a big game, and as well as on the field itself: rin’s dedication to keeping the piece of jewelry on him at all times has garnered the notice of reporters and fans alike.

he had bought matching rings for the two of you on your second anniversary, presented to you in the confines of your bedroom. with a whisper and assurance of deep affection, rin slipped the ring on your finger before sliding on his own. a kiss to your knuckles sealed the promise laid in the piece of jewelry — a promise of sure love.

the gentle weight of silver on rin’s finger grounded him, cool and smooth and symbolizing what is only to be shared between the two of you. worn with pride, the ring has never failed to catch light in each public spotting of the famed itoshi rin.

never, until this past week.

starting with scrutiny of rin’s empty fingers during a home game, alarm bells had already started blaring through the minds of fanatics itching to get the latest update on rin’s love life as well as reporters looking to get a juicy scoop for their next story.

he probably forgot to put it on this morning, some reasoned, while others jumped the gun to decide that yes, something had indeed occurred between rin and his long time partner.

it was a day of nonsensical talk, rin had told himself, that was all. he could stomach that much.

what rin could not stomach, though, was the snowballing of such nonsense day by day. a ringless day on the field, followed by a ringless press conference the next day alongside a ringless interview a few days afterward — the people were convinced.

“this is ridiculous.” rin rubs his forehead in irritation, glowering down at the headlines plastered across his screen. he shows you his phone, expression deadpanned and tired of the turbulence of public word. you read the titles presented to you.

Breakup Rumors Circulate Pro Athlete Itoshi Rin

Itoshi Rin DUMPED?

IS IT RINOVER?

you break into a laugh, shaking your head at the silly tabloid articles. “i think it’s kinda funny, actually.”

“you’re insufferable,” rin rolls his eyes at you. “give me your hand.”

rin takes your hand in his, turning it over and cupping the front of your fingers with his. he brushes his thumb over the ring sitting on your finger — just as rin’s will on his own finger in a few day’s time — and brings it up to his mouth. he presses a tender kiss to it, just as he had done on the very first day.

“couldn’t wait one week,” he grabs his phone again, sliding open the camera app. taking a second to focus the lens on your hand in his, ring front and center, he snaps a quick picture before letting you go. “breakup rumors my ass.”

you hear your phone vibrate nearby, and you glance at the notification that had popped up on your screen.

itoshirin just posted.

“and what’s this?” you look towards rin, suspicion etched into the eyes and smile he sought to take care of.

he only shrugs at you. “took care of it.”

you tap the notification, opening up rin's post. though it had only been a few seconds, a couple thousand had already beat you to it.

alongside the photo he had just taken — poorly lit, illuminated mainly by the subtle sparkle of what could only be the matching piece to the notoriously absent ring — is a brief caption.

We’re fine. Just getting my ring cleaned.

#rin x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin #rin #blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock rin

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andcars · 2 months ago

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# 𝗠𝗔𝗫𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 ─── eight days of pure horny max

well. andi , what the fuck is a maxtober ? instead of kinktober , yall get maxtober ! you can guess what maxtober is about . i basically put that man in situations with both drivers and you . me n my friend have thirty one prompts but i will be publishing at least five 🫶 theyre really just kinky with little to no plot .

with my announcement of my patreon, three out of eight works are going to be exclusive ! if you're wondering as to why i paywalled my works, check out the post here.

wanna be tagged? check out my taglist to be updated on maxtober

# 𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗𝗨𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 , (GMT+8)

10.6 ─── APHRODOSIAC / DRUGGED SEX / lestappen , add. tags: dubious consent , established relationship , under-negotiated kink

10.11 ─── COCK WARMING / chestappen , add. tags: needy max verstappen , slutty max verstappen , bratty max verstappen

10.13 ─── VOYEURISM / solo max + you , add. tags: semi-public masturbation , pining , exhibitionism , implied one-sided attraction , light angst

10.18 ─── BITCHING / OMEGAVERSE / lewis hamilton/max verstappen/toto wolff , add. tags: alpha max verstappen , alpha lewis hamilton , alpha toto wolff , size king max verstappen

10.20 ─── FORCED FEMINIZATION / george russell/max verstappen , add. tags: daddy kink , fluff , daddy issues max verstappen

10.25 ─── AGE GAP / max verstappen/you , add. tags: race engineer max verstappen , radio dirty talk , rbr racer reader

10.27 ─── VOODOO SEX / daniel ricciardo/max verstappen , add. tags: dubious consent , mind control , body and emotional manipulation , pining daniel ricciardo, ai porn app gone wrong (turned sexual!?)

10.31 ─── SEX POLLEN / max verstappen/plant , add. tags: vine sex , oviposition , cum inflation , mind break

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pedgito · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 | Dave York x reader

summary | Dave was the exception to your rule, fortunately. But, he still wanted to do things the right way, his way.

author's note | @pr0ximamidnight is partially responsible for this, constantly feeding me ideas and tiktoks, which birthed this baby.

content warning | 18+ smut, divorced!dave, soft-ish!dave, age gap (unspecified), dating apps, g*n play (consensual), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, this has an unnecessary amount of backstory, i wrote this during gremlin hours don't judge me

word count —6k

They never make it past the third date. Ever.

Except for Dave.

You’ll give him credit where it was due–he was older, wiser, and more charming than any man who you’ve swept right for on these awful dating apps you’ve tried out in the past year. And by an even crazier chance, you had met him in person; a run-in at a coffee shop that would have usually ended in one of you spilling coffee on the other, but actually ended in him stealing your drink and you his own.

He’d only been halfway paying attention when they called out the order instead of the name, subconsciously assuming he was next, he had swiped it up without a thought and left you dumbstruck and being slid a black coffee with a look of apology from the barista who knew he had just walked off with your drink.

Usually, you would brush it off. Spend another fifteen minutes waiting for a fresh drink, but not that time. You had chased him down, a block from the coffee shop and a sharp right and you were on his heels, his face buried in his phone and the coffee cup hanging from his fingertips in his right hand, clearly undrank.

“Hey,” You shout exasperated, but he doesn’t whip his head around like you expect. You huff, jogging a little closer until you can tap at his shoulder and as if his reflexes had kicked in, he turns on his heels and has a sudden look of annoyance, not much different than the one he held in the coffee shop but his brow was more pinched—until you hold up the coffee cup that belonged to him.

It had a name on the ticket—you looked it over. Dave. Black coffee. Six shots of espresso.

Your eyes widen at the sheer amount and you pass it over, watching as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, “Six shots? That’s—”

“Not nearly enough,” He grumbles, swapping out the drinks with a surprisingly gentle grip.

He’s dressed for work, donning a charcoal gray suit with a maroon button-up. He looks official, stoic, and serious, intimidating in a way that makes you want to shrink away.

He takes a peek at your order before he passes it off completely, smirking slightly at the sheer amount of caffeine you had ordered for yourself—not in the form of a straight black coffee and an insane amount of espresso shots, but it was calling a spade a spade.

You both clearly had your vices.

After that, he’s a familiar face. Someone you see the Monday mornings after a terrible Sunday night date, rubbing at tired eyes as you reach for your coffee, and eventually he finds himself more curious than he should be, wondering how someone at your age could seem so…burdened. Not that it wasn’t possible, but it was clear that you never ended your weekend on a high note, and burying the shittiness under a mountain of sugar and syrup was your way of coping.

Fortunately, the coffee machine had been on the fritz one particular Monday which lent you a moment of conversation that was surprisingly refreshing given your unfamiliarity with each other.

He slaps the back of his phone against his palm as he does a quick glance over your figure, hunched under the protection of your sweater you chew at your bottom lip, staring down at your feet.

“Rough weekend?” He asks casually, looking over at you curiously.

You could smell his aftershave, the rich scent of expensive cologne.

You weren’t sure why he was speaking to you, but you answered anyway.

“That easy to spot?” You volley with him, glancing up at him briefly before leaning into your hip.

“Comes with experience,” He shrugs, seeming far more approachable than you would have expected. You conspicuously track your eyes over him, how perfectly put together he was, not a piece of his outfit out of place, aside from the prominent tan line on his ring finger.

Married. Or…was married. You didn’t feel it was your position to throw that kind of question at a stranger.

“Oh,” You feign intrigue, feeling the words slip out before you can stop them, “plenty of experience in the field of dealing with men who can’t be bothered to hold a thirty minute conversation and expect you to fuck them after the first date?”

You’re expecting him to balk and walk away, wonder what the hell was wrong with you—but instead, he smirks again. More prominent than the first time.

“Sorry,” You apologize meekly, “that was—It’s been a rough morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave brushes it off, his name sounding in your head again as it comes to you, “and no—I don’t, but still—a bad weekend is a bad weekend.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly as you nod in agreement and it is within that small distraction of conversation that the machine comes roaring to life again, but instead of walking toward the counter to order, Dave slips in front of you.

You have half the mind to tell him to fuck off for cutting, but when you hear your coffee order spilling out of his mouth you stare at him wildly, giving him a look of confusion after he pays, scribbling away at a receipt before he turns and walks silently toward the other side of the shop to fetch his coffee order. You follow wordlessly, obediently as he nods at you.

“Consider it returning the favor for the first time I screwed up with our orders,” He tells you, smiling at the barista she slides the two cups into his hands—he shoves yours into your open palm, receipt tucked against the cup with his thumb as it transfers to you, “and fuck those guys.”

You laugh softly, sipping gingerly at your coffee as he departs with a half-smile, footsteps clicking against the tile floor as he departs with a hand shoved into his pocket as he shoulders open the door. The receipt is long forgotten and tucked into your pocket.

It isn’t until hours later as you're throwing your coat over the back of your couch that the paper floats to the floor, staring at you like it had its own set of eyes. You pluck it up curiously and pull apart the crumbled-up ball, noting the smudged black ink scribbled on the back of the receipt.

Third date is the rule, right?

Followed by his name and a haphazardly scribbled number.

So, not married. Definitely not married.

You text him without a second thought, finding that his response is almost immediate.

Suddenly, you needed to know all about him.

—

And you made that your mission.

Texts turn into calls, sparse and spread out but it was kept light in the beginning. General small talk, and occasional flirting, but still you had far too many questions. The one thing you do learn is that he was divorced, not newly, thankfully. It had been a couple of years and he admits very early on that he doesn’t do this often.

Whatever that meant.

He’s older, but you don’t feel the need to address that. He knows you’re in college, mid-twenties, but beyond that, you’re just a puzzle he’s piecing together on his own. Learning about you over the following weeks with a refreshing interest you haven’t been privy to before.

Your first date happens on a Saturday, a late night and last minute plan due to his often changing work schedule. It was shitty food at a small diner in town but it didn’t matter.

Eventually, he does slip up and admit that his work is freelance—but under what pretenses you weren’t sure, always skirting around the subject. And usually, you would see the immediate red flags, but that doesn’t happen. He seemed like a private person and maybe over time…

He doesn’t ask you the much-anticipated question after your first date, but he does kiss you.

It was soft and quick, fleeting in a moment as he walks you to your doorstep and leaves you reaching for more, but all you’re left with is a smug smile as he climbs into his car.

The second date is fancier, a few weeks later between occasion phone calls that would last longer than they needed, but you didn’t mind, sometimes Dave liked listening to the sound of your voice, he’d admitted at one point—Dave had planned this date out in advance at a nice restaurant in the uptown area of the city, giving you dress code requirements, exceptions, and all of it is entirely overwhelming.

But, it fades the moment his hand touches your waist.

There wasn’t a feeling of fear or an immediate urge to run away. It was protection, the warm and steady touch of him at your back just felt safe and it went against every fiber of your being to feel this way about someone so easily. But, the way Dave winks down at you as you fumble with the bracelet hanging loosely around your wrist reminds you that you have nothing to worry about.

The dinner is ridiculous, for you—convoluted meal courses with silly names that have you furrowing your brow in confusion as you look up at Dave who only seems entertained by your amusement, feeding you a piece of the shared dessert with the single fork they had served with the plate. It was intimate and shocking how easily you gave in tointo it and followed his lead.

Trusted him.

You aren’t sure if it was his original plan, but he ended up at your place later that night.

He does walk you to your door again, but you’re not as easy to let him go this time. A few flutes of wine in your system and you’re far too clingy to let him slip away—begging, pleading for a few extra minutes.

“I’ll give you a quick tour,” You tell him softly, a sultry tone to your voice as your bottom lip pulls between your teeth and your hand's slide off the lapel of his peacoat, dragging him backwardinto the door that leads to your apartment building, “seriously—just a few minutes.”

“Sweetheart,” The endearment slips out despite himself, but he doesn’t thwart you off, his hand twisting and intertwining with your own as you lead him toward the elevators.

“Third date rule, remember?” You tell him, smiling sweetly, “Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”

“I’m counting on it.”

—

As promised, Dave only stays for a short time. However, the tour was a total lie.

You kiss him gently as the door closes behind him. Quick, closed-mouth pecks that are driving Dave insane, but he grips your biceps, pulling you back with ease.

“Behave,” The gruffness in his voice brings you back to the surface, “you promised.”

Dave has never lacked self-control, but with you, it was nearly impossible.

Luckily for him, you felt like following your self-set rule, but it doesn’t stop you from cuddling up on your couch for a brief time, a hand combing through his thick, perfectly quaffed hair—though the same couldn’t be said now, slightly askew as he squeezes at your thigh when you pull at a few strands too hard.

“Ask it,” Dave says suddenly, seeing the apprehensive look in your eye, “whatever it is.”

“I’m just curious,” You tell him honestly but quietly, your eyes dragging up his face until they meet his own, “about you—I feel like I know bits and pieces, but nothing…real.”

He grunts, a non-committal response.

“I can keep your secrets,” You tell him like a sacred promise, “no judgment, either.”

His thumb drags over your nose in a sweet, gentle manner before it lands at your chin, cupping the side of your face as he begins to speak in the quiet room.

“I have two kids,” He admits, “—two girls with my ex-wife. We share custody but because of work…it makes it harder to see them often.”

You make a face, one that conveys sadness, a feeling of empathy as his gaze drifts off behind you while his fingers massage gently into the back of your neck.

“Don’t do that,” He pleads, “don’t feel like you need to–”

“You are the first guy in eight months that hasn’t tried to fuck me within two hours of meeting me,” You tell him, a soft giggle bubbling in your throat, “There is no need, Dave.”

“It’s taking…a lot of effort on my behalf,” He admits with a soft laugh, his normal monotone and emotionless face cracking with a smile, “I’m trying.”

“I just—I don’t want you to feel like you need to be careful with me,” You assure him, “I won’t break that easily. I’ve shared with you, I want you to feel like you can do that with me.”

“Tell me something else about yourself then,” He waits, your mind trialing away for a moment, thinking.

“I feel like I never have control over anything—my life, my relationships,” You sigh, “it…it is a lot deeper, I think. But, I don’t know how to fix that. Sometimes it feels pointless.”

Dave nods slowly, and thoughtfully.

“I can teach you control, sweetheart.” Dave assures you, “Do you want that?”

The intensity in his eyes is new, but it doesn’t scare you. Instead, you find yourself nodding obediently. He kisses you that night again, more intensely than he ever has, a hand fisted into your hair, your body curled around him and it is nearly impossible to let him go.

—

The third date is intimate, as you had expected.

He invites you to his place and it takes you a few minutes after hearing him say it for the words to click in your head, until he reiterates it again and you agree eagerly.

It was how you ended up on his couch after a full, delicious meal that Dave had cooked you himself and the drone of a local news channel playing on the television as you curledl up at his side, taking in the sights of his own apartment. It was so…detached. No family pictures, no drawings, no personal artifacts outside of expensive art and sculptures that had to cost more than a month of your own rent, maybe even two.

“How can you afford this?” You ask harmlessly, eyes dragging up to the gaudy chandelier hanging overhead, “I mean, your living room is the size of my entire apartment.”

“I’m not a starving college student,” He jokes, taking your playful jab in stride, “—this is just a temporary space, sweetheart. I…travel a lot for work, I’m only ever here maybe one week out of the month really.”

It explained why your dates were so spaced out and why phone calls and texts were preferred over an in-person meeting. But, he’s still skirting around the topic and it heightens your worry the tiniest bit.

“My turn to ask a question?”

You nod.

“If I had tried to fuck you on the first date, would you have let me?”

You smirk slightly, knowing the answer despite your distaste for the other men.

“I’ve had…really bad experiences any time I break that rule,” You admit, “it’s another situation where I feel like I’m losing control and it quickly turns into something I’m not interested in. I want to say no, but the answer is probably yes.”

Dave’s eyes go pensive, his gaze dragging to the small gap between you both, the arm slung over your shoulder stopping for a moment, but his touch remains, his fingertips against the slope of your neck and he’s fighting something within himself. You can see it.

“Just say it, Dave,” You find yourself pleading with him, “I think we’re beyond the realm of a third date. Whatever it is, I promise not to judge.”

“I know I told you I work freelance, but it’s…more than that,” He looks around, wondering if he should flee now and escape this conversation, but your gaze is heavy and unrelenting, “I used to work for the government, but things happened. Now, people hire me too—”

The gears are working overtime in your head, putting things together as he speaks, and really—it should have been more obvious, that far disconnected from his personal life, and the unwillingness to share information so freely.

“You’re a hitman?” You break the tension and spit out the word he’s dancing so carefully around.

“More or less,” He nods, carefully examining you to gauge your reaction.

“I mean, you’re not just…going around killing innocent people, are you?”

“Only the people that deserve it,” He doesn’t want to go into detail, already seeing the disconnect on your face, “It isn’t—it’s not something I’m doing often and it isn’t shit that I take lightly. It’s also not at all ethical and if you want nothing to do with me now, knowing that, I can respect that—”

“Would you kill me?”

Dave looks at you incredulously, “No—what kind of question is—”

“Then—” You shrug, “it isn’t my business, unless you want to make it my business.”

“You are…something,” Dave says aloud, his thoughts trickling from his mind to his mouth.

You smile, tilting your head as you rest it against the back of his couch.

“Did you still want a lesson in control?” Dave asks curiously.

You nod silently.

“Do you trust me?”

“So much,” You admit, “it’s a little embarrassing.”

Dave sits up then, nodding toward a far-off room you hadn’t been privy to exploring yet.

“Follow me.”

—

His bedroom is large, but it isn’t anything surprising. It’s dull colors and clean, almost sterile. But, you still wander—and he allows it, lingering as he unbuttons his cufflinks and strips himself of his button-up shirt. You run your hands over the soft sheets on his bed and climb on carefully, feeling your dress ride up with the movement, the cold touch of the comforter bringing you back to reality.

“I wanna try something,” Dave admits, tilting his head to meet your gaze from across the room, “—and I need to hear it again, that you trust me.”

“I do,” you nod easily, “I trust you.”

“Take your dress off,” He instructs and you’re slightly confused, but you follow his direction and pull the dress over your head, bare breasts spilling out with the lack of bra you decided to go without and Dave’s gaze lingers, heats up, his movements only slightly more hurried as he works at his slacks, “lay down—close your eyes.”

You laugh quietly at the absurdity of his clinical tone of order, but the weight of him as the mattress dips has your body pulsing at the thought, cunt throbbing at the smallest hint of his smell that you’ve become so accustomed to.

“I’m going to put something in your hand,” Dave tells you, “only open your eyes when I say so, alright?”

You nod obediently and unfurl your hand, feeling a heavy weight press into your palm and another hand trail down the inside of your thigh, squeezing at the junction where your inner thigh meets your cunt, and then his other hand is grabbing your hand, and curling it around the object and your senses do the work for you, unfortunately—

“Dave, is that a—” Your heart races in a panic as your eyes rip open, “is that a fucking gun?”

“Baby, calm down,” He soothes, and weirdly, it works, “the safety is on.”

He retrieves the gun that has fallen from your grip and returns it, dragging the weight up until your hand is resting between your legs, the barrel of the gun pressing into the skin just above his belly button, watching as his bare stomach flexes against the cool touch of the gun. It was then that you had a moment to admire—you figured this line of work required him to keep some kind of strict regime for himself, but it wasn’t clear until now. He’s wide, and broad, but you already knew that much. He’s not ripped in a sense, but he looks—feels strong, his tight grip on the inside of your thigh an immediate sign and he breathes, pushing against the barrel.

“You want control? I’m giving it to you.”

“Dave, this seems a little—”

He guides the barrel down, down, until the weight of it catches against the front of your underwear and guides your hand in slow, careful circles as the tip of the gun catches your clit and you find your pussy quivering at the action, but not out of fear.

You were turned on and Dave knew it.

“I want you to be comfortable around it,” He admits, and oddly, it makes your heart ache, “but if you don’t like this—we can stop.”

You find the gun dragging back toward his abdomen at his words and the smile on his face is immediate. Dave doesn’t move a fucking inch.

“No.”

“There’s my girl.”

His thumb replaces the barrel, rubbing slow circles over your clothed clit, and his eyes are locked on you, somehow managing to make everything else fade in comparison.

“Can I taste you?”

It sounds lewd, more than it should. Like an animal dying for a taste, He can feel the warm, wet spot forming in the patch of underwear covering your cunt and he needs it, but only if you’ll allow it.

You nod, the barrel slowly crawling up his chest as he lowers himself, fingers hooking into your underwear as he pulls them down, tilting his head up to look at you as his warm breath fans over cunt, “Put it against my head,” He suggests rather than orders, and you’re hesitant for a moment before he’s giving you that nudge, his tongue dipping into your cunt without warning as he’s lapping up the center of your pussy, groaning as the barrel presses front and center to his hairline and your back arches, fingers still carefully off the trigger but tightly wrapped around the grip and you moan, so loudly you find yourself trying to muffle the sound with your hand.

“Soundproof,” Dave notes, “don’t hold back, baby.”

He doesn’t either, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he spreads you wide, broad shoulders giving you no relief as he licks, quick and practiced tongue flicks over your clit until you’re keening, the gun trembling in your grip as he presses his head further into the barrel, leaning down until he can slip his tongue inside of you, grunting at the way you cry out, walls pulsing around his tongue.

He pulls away suddenly, featherlight kisses over your pussy, gentle lips over your mound and it feels like it’s all in an effort to tease—you’ve never gone this far before with him but somehow he was already in tune with your body, and frankly, you’ve been waiting too long for this to allow him to drag out your release any longer than you’ll allow.

He grins as the barrel pressed more firmly at the center of his forehead, a silent demand. But, he’s not satisfied.

“Tell me. With your own words.”

“Make me come,” You order him, another firm press, “now.”

He buries his face into your cunt without another word, nose pressed against your clit as you felt yourself clench around the work of his tongue and fingers, the breach of one, as it pushed inside of you, had you squirming under his touch. Your grip on the handle slips but Dave is there, hand wrapping around your own to keep it firm as he hums, lapping you up greedily.

Your eyes are half-open, stuck staring at the plain ceiling as your head tips back, gasp caught in your throat as he doesn’t relent, his mouth moving over your clit to suck, alternating between that and precise flicks of his tongue before you’re curling over the edge with a loud moan, all while Dave’s hand slips to the barrel, keeping at steady while he admires you, the strain in your neck as you shout, legs shaking around his head as he finally gives you some relief, trapping him there as he cleans up the mess between your thighs.

He rises slowly then, gun trailing down until it drags against his chest, watching it indent in his skin until you’re pressing it against the bulge in his boxers, the dark material hugging his thighs and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and nod as his fingers trace over his waistband, still unmoving despite your eager eyes.

Take control.

“Take them off,” You tell him, the end of the gun tucking itself between the fabric, a playful smile pulling at your lips, “I wanna taste you, too.”

He hesitates, his palms pressing against your knees as he tilts his head slightly, “This is about you, sweetheart.”

“And what I want is your dick, in my mouth—is that too much to ask?” You pout slightly, dropping the gun to the comforter as you pull at his waistband but his hands stop you—maybe you weren’t as in control as you thought, it was all just metaphorical and Dave was into some weird shit.

“I’ve got…plans, for that,” Dave hints lightly, grinding his bulge into your palm as you press it against his clothed cock, “how about—you let me fuck you? I did make it to the third date, after all.”

He wanted you to be selfish—to soak up all the pleasure he was attempting to offer. He knew your past hookups couldn’t have been great; short three-minute fucks on the bed inside some dirty apartment of the man you had selected for that weekend, this was about you.

He wasn’t trying to control you, but rather guide you.

“Plans?” Your ears perk up as you lean forward, one hand tucked behind you for support as you squeeze at his cock over the fabric, his hand sliding over your neck to caress your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the curve of your lips before tilting your head up, “Who said I keep things going after the third date?”

He can see the inkling of playfulness in your expression as he surges forward suddenly, getting his hands underneath you and pulling your hips over his own, squeezing at your thighs as you instinctively ground yourself down against him, a wet patch forming in his boxers.

“Grab it,” He nods to the lone weapon.

It feels feeble now, just a prop. Sure, it made your heart race at the weight of it in your hand—that it was real, but you knew there was no real danger. Still, you play along.

You pick it up, examining it leisurely as you move your hips, “Have you killed anyone with this?”

Dave nods silently, his eyes following the line from your abdomen to your cunt, watching as your cunt dragged over the material and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something so badly, his thumbs pushing at his waistband, but the jerk of the gun being set effortlessly in your grip and placed at the center of his chest startles him for a brief moment.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” He answers, “I have—does that scare you?”

You nod absently, helping him as you lift your hips and let him push his underwear down his legs, kicking them off haphazardly as you drag your bare cunt against him and his mouth falls open slightly, his eyes still closely following your face, waiting for your response.

“No,” You shake your head, because as much as it should—it didn’t.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” Dave teases, feeling the subtle flex of your fingers into his chest with the hand that you had free, the barrel dragging up slowly until it forced his chin higher, resting just against the center of his throat.

“Maybe,” You reply, “does that scare you?”

“Baby, nothing scares me anymore.”

You flick off the safety in the heat of the moment, but there’s no reaction, not even a flinch.

“I wouldn’t have given you that if I didn’t trust you,” He ignores the way your face softens, a frown forming on your face, “Don’t—don’t worry. You won’t, I know you won’t.”

He guides your hips up as your eyes stay locked on the weapon at his throat, finger off the trigger but your heart is hammering in your chest, afraid that even one small movement would be a mistake. But, there was something in the way his jaw flexed, pressing his throat even further against the end of the gun as he slid into you, hand fisting his cock as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, sinking further and further, until he was rooted inside of you.

“Don’t think,” He tells you, “just move, baby—take.”

Take it, claim this. Him.

It dawns on you in the heat of the moment, mind partially clouded that this was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, especially for someone you were fucking for the first time.

But weirdly, you felt comfortable—and you knew if you wanted to stop, Dave would allow that. Still, you didn’t.

You rock your hips slowly, free hand gripping his shoulder as his own fingers dig into your skin, aiding in the rise of your hips as his own lifted and smacked into yours with a quickly building intensity. No words were shared, just sounds breathed into each other’s skin.

He trails a hand up the center of you, curled around your face as his thumb presses against your bottom lip, pulling until it touches your teeth and you finally understand, taking the digit into your mouth and sucking.

Dave’s thrusts are rough, precise. It hits a spot so deep inside of you that your entire body aches at the feeling, rubbing against your g-spot with every stroke, feeling your eyes roll back in your head as he forces his thumb down on your tongue, a wordless communication as the the gun slips with you fleeting mind, but he’s there with his hand on the barrel to keep you steady.

“Come,” You command, “come inside of me.”

And his sanity be damned, he was. He didn’t care what the aftermath would bring—he’d do whatever you needed him to, silently praying that you weren’t that reckless.

You wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his broad shoulder and his hips jerk at the feeling of you squeezing down on him, your thumb hesitantly pulling back at the hammer of the gun—he knows that sound and he feels the vibration of it against his throat as he comes, it hits him like a force.

He grunts through gritted teeth, rocking your hips with every weakened thrust as he pulses inside of you, still having half the mind to swat the gun away carelessly, his demeanor changing on a dime after you’ve had your fill of him. You shout softly as he rolls, trapping you underneath him with his hips and hands, shoving your palms under the pillow, and settling between your legs.

Your first instinct is to reach out, and touch him.

“Don’t,” He warns, “don’t move.”

You freeze, hands squeezing at the silk pillowcase, fabric bunching on your grip as he reaches for the gun.

“I want you to come again,” He demands, flipping the gun in his grip, the barrel pointed at you now.

“Dave—“

“Again,” His eyes flick down, “—get creative.”

You take a shallow breath, eyes pleading.

But, you knew you could. You wanted to, especially with him looking at you so hungrily, unexpectedly pushing his cum back into you with two fingers as you felt it seep out, a touch so delicate that it gives you whiplash against the dark dichotomy of his tone.

“Hold—hold it against me,” You tell him, “please?”

“You’re asking?”

“Do it,” You sound more steady and he moves with hesitation, pressing the tip of the barrel against your swollen clit, already too sensitive and the moment he presses the cold metal there your entire body shutters, mouth dropping open in shock, “fuck—I’m too sensitive.”

“Or I can fuck you with it, is that what you want?”

There’s a brief moment of intrigue that crosses your features and Dave can’t help but chuckle, his cheeks dimpling with the emotion.

“You’re trouble,” He admits, “so much fucking trouble.”

You rock your hips against the hard, but somehow dull edge, knowing that it would only take a few seconds but you were teetering, riding that line and needing more.

“Dave, please—your fingers,” You squirm, eyes squeezing shut as you grip the pillowcase so tight it might rip under the stress, “put them inside of me.”

Thankfully, he does. It’s the crook of his middle finger and the weight of the gun against your clit that pulls you over the edge a second time, vision whiting out as you came and forcing a broken sob from your chest, finding that the emotion floods you in an instant.

It wasn’t sadness, just a feeling that overwhelmed you.

Pleasure, peace, and with Dave staring at you with such adoration you weren’t sure how you’ve gone this long in your life without him.

You sigh shakily, “Fuck, that was intense.”

“Hey, sweetheart, look,” Dave cocks the gun back and your eyes draw to the weapon, showing that it was empty—it had never even been loaded, “it was all about control, alright?”

You laugh lightly, the absurdity of the situation sending you into a temporary delirium. Dave recocks the gun and flicks the safety back on, placing it on his nightstand before he’s tending to you, pulling at your arms and rolling over onto his back. You cuddle against his chest wordlessly, his soothing hands on your back a constant presence as he fumbles for the blanket, covering you both.

“I’ve never done that before,” You admit quietly.

“Did you enjoy it?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, he already knows the answer.

“I trust you, so much,” You admit, “I don’t even know—“

“I wouldn’t have attempted that on a first date,” Dave tells you, “just so you’re aware.”

“Oh, so the gun has a three date rule, too?”

He knows you’re being coy.

“It has a you rule, sweetheart. If you had said no, I wouldn’t have questioned it.” He tells you, feeling your heart swoon despite the absurdity of the situation, “Being behind the barrel of a gun, pointing it—it’s that surge of adrenaline. The control of the situation. I wanted you to feel that.”

You stay silent, lost in thought as you stare at him, watching as his gaze flicks down at you briefly with a knowing smirk, “Plus, I never would have handed you a loaded gun—not when you don’t know anything about gun safety. Was that your first time holding one?”

You nod meekly, wondering if he was going to feel regret.

“Would you teach me? If I asked?” You ask suddenly.

“How to use one?”

“I mean, is there a better person to ask?”

Dave chuckles dryly, a faint smile showing that quickly disappears.

“I’ll teach you, baby. As long as I get a fourth date.”

“You can have as many as you want. Five. Ten—“

“Careful,” He chided, “there’s still stuff you don’t know. About me.”

“I want to,” You assure him, “in your own time—as much as you’ll tell me. I can wait.”

Dave feels like he’s taking advantage of your kindness, your blind willingness to trust him. But, it has been so long since he’s had this—a confidant, someone who he could connect with without judgment.

He knows you’ll find a reason to run eventually, they always did.

“How do you feel about Paris?” He asks suddenly.

“It’s…pretty? I’ve never been but it seems alright.”

“Are you free next weekend?”

Your eyes widen at the implication.

“Dave—“

“Is that a yes?”

You nod shyly.

“Perfect,” He mouths into your hair, pressing a kiss against the scalp, “pack something fancy to wear.”

“How fancy?”

“Absurdly fancy,” He chuckles.

Because if there was one person who could get you to agree to anything, it was Dave.

#dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #the equalizer 2 #dave york smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #literally who am i writing for DAVE

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