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baby-yongbok · 2 months ago

Text

Say it again

Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✦ Genre - Smut [MDNI] - Established Relationship ✦ Word Count - 2.6k ✦ Summary - You're Chan's princess, he'd give you anything you'd ever wanted but after a drunken slip up he decides to make you wait for what you want for once. ✦ CW - Piss, Soft!Dom Chan, Edging, Dirty talk, Size kink?, Degradation? (towards chan but like... he asked for it? you'll see.), Unprotected sex & Creampie (Wrap it up), Reader is called Princess, baby, nasty girl/ naughty, - Again, this is a piss kink fic. ✦ Masterlist ✦

You’re Chan’s Princess. His sweet girl who he’d sell his left foot for if you asked. You’re a spoiled brat. Well, that’s what his friends say anyway.

There isn’t a day that the group can pass up on an opportunity to poke and prod at your boyfriend for pampering you. They joke that you’ve never heard Chan say the word no and you just smile - It’s kinda true.

Your boyfriend just laughs and rolls his eyes, “She deserves it.” He’d state simply, confidently. He’d give you a wink and proceed to peel your orange or bring you a drink and let you eat half of his food. It was sweet, he was sweet. And then you messed it up.

It’s nothing too drastic, just some tipsy teasing one night a week ago. You said something along the lines or Chan having a small dick or whatever. You honestly can’t remember but Chan does. It lives fresh in his mind and motivated him to change things up a bit.

That night he brought you home, cooed sweet nothings in your ear and undressed you like a gentleman would. He kissed down your neck, up your thighs, over your cunt and lapped at the drenched flesh like a man starved. He built you up, up, up before pulling back and letting it all melt away.

You whimpered as he stood from his knees, his frame towered over you and you reached out to him, silently asking for more, “Channie.” You whined but he didn’t smile, he didn’t touch you, not like he usually would. He just leaned in and hovered over your naked form.

“Next time you wanna tell a joke, make sure that it’s funny, Princess.” The harsh rasp of his voice made your cheeks flush, adding to what the alcohol had caused. With a chaste kiss to your temple he pulled back and left you dizzy, tipsy and wanting more.

This treatment went on for a week.

He spent his time building you up just to let you fall and repeated it the next day. He’d get himself off right in front of your face, jerking his pretty cock with you on your knees before him. He found himself smiling at the way your needy gaze would track his every move. The sanguine glint in your eye only shined brighter with each grunt and moan. You would whine, beg quietly or silently in hopes that your voice could convince him to finally give in but you always end up starving for more.

“How long are you going to do this to me?” You whine four days in, looking up at him with glassy eyes as he redresses. “I’m sorry for what I said, I was tipsy.”

“I accept your apology.” He kneels down to your level, taking your hand in his. “But you still can’t cum.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it before standing and changing the subject like he didn’t just push you a bit closer to the edge of insanity.

You’ve never been this desperate in your life.

You’ve never wanted Chan more than you did when you’d stand at the sink and press your thighs together with the hopes that you could get some semblance of relief. He went from edging you to teasing you to nothing at all and now you find yourself missing the miserable routine of being close to release just to have it snatched away.

Chan caught on to your attempts at self pleasure quicker than you thought he would. He would watch, stare at your thighs and look for that slight tremble or pulse in your muscle then he’d slap your thigh and smile. He’s enjoying this.

And part of you is too.

Tonight marks a week of this punishment. You’re home alone while Chan works late at the studio which is rare for a Sunday but he locked into a track and got stuck perfecting it. You text him a sweet goodnight and warn him to get home before the snowstorm starts. He texts back, warning you to behave.

It’s three in the morning when Chan tiptoes into the apartment. He maneuvers around furniture and discarded objects to ensure that you stay asleep. He grabs the food you left him then heads for the shower to soak the chill of the storm out of his bones.

He’s exhausted, spent, but then he sees you. The walk to his dresser gets cut short when he gets a glimpse of your sprawled out frame. You're so cute and peaceful in your nightgown, with one leg hiked up and bent over a pillow, his pillow.

Chan steps closer, looking over your relaxed body and taking in the way your smooth skin disappears under the soft fabric of your gown. For a second he thinks that you really do look like a princess. Prim and pretty and all his.

He climbs into bed behind you, his towel slips down to reveal more of the firm cut of his hip and he presses into your backside. You push back in a stir and Chan has to bite his tongue not to moan. He needs you.

“Babygirl.” He drapes his arm over your stomach and pulls you back into the growing tent of the towel. His lips brush over the soft skin of your neck and he peppers gentle kisses across the flesh.

“Baby.” He whispers and you hum. His fingers start to trace shapes into the clothed skin of your stomach and you sigh. “Chan?” You mumble, still mostly asleep.

“Mhm.” His hand on your stomach trails down to lift the hem of your nightgown. “Do me a favor and open your legs, hun. Stay asleep, just let me make you cum.”

The indulgent glide of his hand up your flesh makes you shiver awake. You blink your heavy lids and sigh a soft moan at his touch. “Promise?” Chan kisses behind your ear. How could he say no to a voice as sweet as yours?

“Promise, now open up for me.” He pushes his covered cock against your ass and you push back with a moan and then you gasp. Your pleasure is interrupted by the pressure of your full bladder, it sends a sudden shock that makes you squirm. “Gotta pee, Channie.”

You attempt to sit up with the intention of rushing off to the bathroom real quick but Chan’s arm circles your stomach again, keeping you trapped against him. “Yeah? Gotta pee?” The kisses on your neck get firmer, his subtle grinding picks up and his hand pushes softly against your lower abdomen.

“Chan.” You moan in protest but it does little to stop him. The pang of urgency your body is sending you gets stronger with his subtle push and not so subtle grind of his hips. “I’ll be quick.”

He smiles against you, moving his hand back down to lift the hem of your gown up over the swell of your ass. “I know, hun.” His towel gives way and it’s his bare cock pressing against you now. “You wanna cum, right? Want me to give you what you’ve been begging for?”

Your body betrays you, shuddering as arousal starts to gush between your shaking thighs. You press them together in an attempt to hold your bladder. “Then you’ll stay here and let me give you what you wanted, won’t you? You’ll be my good girl.”

Chan’s hand moves between your legs, parting your plush thighs and firmly brushing a calloused finger over your clit. The contact makes you keen. “I can’t hold it. Can’t, please let me-”

“Pick one, Do you wanna pee or do you want to cum?” He kisses your shoulder and you go quiet. What do you do?

“I’ll make a mess” Chan chuckles at your concern then licks his hand. He reaches between your bodies and tugs at his thick cock. “Do I sound like I mind a mess?” He slides his length between your thighs, pressing it against your heat. “If you don’t want me to make you cum I can stop. Just say the word.”

The thought of asking him to stop translates as insanity to you. He drags his hips back and starts fucking your thighs. He grinds against and fucks up over your clenching cunt. His tip gets caught on your clit and your chest vibrates with a deep moan. This is the most he’s touched you in days. It’s dizzying and Chan makes it worse when he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear and whispers.

“Fuck, I missed you, baby.” His hand comes up to your chin and he turns your head just enough to take in the way your features twist in pleasure. “Tell me what you want.”

“More.” Your mouth was faster than your mind. “Yeah? More? Wanna piss all over the sheets? That’s how desperate you are?” You’re nodding, pressing your thighs together when his hips pick up pace. You don’t care anymore. You need him.

“Nasty, baby. So fucking naughty.” The tip of his cock rubs over your slick clit with each thrust. Your body trembles with the sweet satisfaction of finally feeling pleasure and Chan lets you have that for a second or two before his grip on your hip becomes bruising.

“What was it that you said that night? Something about me having a small dick, right?” He’s breathing heavily in your ear and you shudder, nodding mindlessly as you drift farther and farther from reality. “Look at me.”

The movement is reluctant but you follow his request. Your low-lidded gaze meets his and your heart beats double time. “Is that what you said?”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper but that’s not what he wanted. He presses down on your bladder harder and you gasp, “Answer the question.”

The moan that echoes from you is unbecoming. It’s far from prim but very pretty. “Yes, I said it.. I’m sorry.” It’s less of a confession and more of a desperate plea but Chan accepts it with a hum.

“You wanna stand by that? Wanna tell me how small I am?” He presses a bit harder and you groan, breaking eye contact and shaking your head into your pillow. “C’mon, call my cock pathetic, hun.”

The tone of his voice in contrast to his actions is as sweet as cinnamon. “C’mon.” You open your mouth to speak but nothing but half a whimper and a huff of hot air escapes. “Follow the rules to cum.”

“Y-you’re cock, is pathetic.” Chan pulls his hips back. “Gimme more, come on.” His pressure on your stomach lets up and you can breathe again. You inhale and exhale with a shake before giving him what he asked for.

“Your… cock is so pathetic. So small that you never make me c-cum - Chan…” His hips push forward, his cock catches at your entrance and bullies its way into your fluttering cunt. The words you’ve uttered are debunked in real time.

“Pathetic, yeah?” He groans, fingers splaying over your bare stomach. “Y-yeah, I can’t even feel… feel it.” Chan smiles, pressing his hips firmer into you and successfully pulling a scream from your chest.

You can feel the dam threatening to break, small trickles wet your thighs and you try your best to chase your orgasm while holding the mess but you can’t seem to find a way to get one without the other.

“Chan, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I- I..” You’re not entirely sure what you’re apologizing for anymore. You feel desperate to cum, to empty your bladder, for anything and everything. Your boyfriend smiles behind you, finding your begging stutter cute.

“Nah, stick with what you said, baby. Can’t even feel it, right?” The steady rocking of his hips turns into shallow thrusts that actually do have you tearing up.

Chan picks up on your attempt to hold back and presses harder, drilling his hips in and out of you and making the splinter of pleasure and pressure fuse in a way that you’ve never experienced before.

“C-chan - Channie..” Your bladder leaks, wetting your thighs, the sheets, him. But you finally get to cum. You keen and he eats it all up. He tips your head back, admiring the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip before your jaw hangs slack with gasps.

“That’s it, baby. I got you, just fall apart for me.” He wraps his arm around you, reaching down to rub harsh circles into your clit. You’re soaked, shaking through the mix of sweet releases. “Messy cunt.” He groans, pushing your thighs further apart and spanking your clit.

You give him the sounds he was looking to hear with a shudder that makes him hiss. “C’mere.”

He pulls out and positions you on all fours over the messy sheets. You grab your pillow and bury your face in it just as he slides back in. He lets his head fall back with an elated sigh. A lazy slap on your ass follows and you whimper, “God, I missed my girl so much.”

He moves slow and shallow, watching the way his dick disappears into you with each tremor and flutter your body offers. “Just like that.” He coos, picking up pace slowly but not slow enough for you to adjust.

The new angle is deeper than before but it makes you scream all the same. “That’s a lot of noise for a small dick, huh?” A cocky breathy laugh rumbles through him but the pull in his abdomen cuts it short. Or maybe it was the way your cunt squeezed him as your second orgasm snuck up your legs.

“Let it out, pretty girl. Gimme more, c’mon.” You break all over again. The last of you tried to hold wets his thighs and your pussy practically gushes around him.

“Pissing on me again? Nasty girl.” He groans, seconds from falling apart. He reaches around and slaps your clit again and again, moaning at the messy wet sound it makes.

“Gonna let me make a m-mess too? Gonna let me fill you up?” Each word is punctuated with a thrust until he leans forward, pressing into you while his eyes roll back and muscles tense.

“Baby, ba - fuck… baby.” His voice gradually fades into a whisper until all you hear is him panting over you. The cool wetness of his thighs is a shivering contrast to the warmth of you.

“Chan…” You whimper, failing to complete the rest of your plea. “Sh sh sh, you’re good, baby.”

“I’m sorry.” This time you know that you’re apologizing for the mess. He leans over you, running his hand through your hair and rubbing at your scalp. “There's no need to be sorry. I wanted it.”

“Really?” You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze with your glassy one.

“Yes, really.” He kisses over your back with a sweet hum to both comfort you and distract you from the pressure of him moving again.

“You did so well for me.” You open your mouth to speak but a pathetic stutter escapes instead. Chan hums, rocking his hips into you and gently and running his hands up your back to soothe you.

“Look at me, princess.” You blink up at him and he coos, “You’ll do it again for me, yeah?”

His hips snap and you nearly do too. “Say it.”

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nmhdreamscape · 24 days ago

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wanna bet? ✧ l.dh

pairing | non-idol!haechan x fem!reader word count | 6.4k words synopsis | a bet with your enemy where the winner gets whatever they want, what could possibly go wrong? besides, you weren't one to lose, especially to lee haechan. content | enemies to lovers (one-sided), flirty, smut, lots of back and forth, they love to cut each other off, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe!), teasing, hair pulling, some marking, messy request | haechan + 1 (as part of valentine's gift series)

meeting up with your friends after class was almost routine at this point. your chosen hang-out spot was the small garden area at the centre of campus, always sitting on the grass as the tables were always taken. the small group of you would take it as an opportunity to debrief and vent about your days. however, today was different. when you had agreed to meet with everyone like you always do, you were expecting an opportunity to vent about the group assignment coming up or how your latest essay was marked way too harshly. instead, you were greeted by talk of date night plans and romantic gifts.

it was valentine’s day, and you hadn’t even noticed. cursing yourself for not noticing, you reluctantly sat down alongside your friends, preparing yourself for an hour of listening to just how great everyone else’s love life was.

you were barely paying attention when the sound of your name brought you back to reality. it seems that your friends had all finished talking about their plans. all eyes shifted to you, it now your turn to detail your valentine’s plans. being the only single one of the group, you didn’t know exactly why they were asking. You decided to indulge them anyway. You began to rattle off something about how you had decided to spend the holiday alone. Too engrossed in coming up with a plausible story, you failed to hear the sound of footsteps coming up behind you.

“alone on valentines, a little sad, isn’t it?” you froze, recognising that voice from anywhere. you turned to look up at a smirking haechan. your eyes immediately narrowed, looking away from him with a scoff. you hated how he always seemed to have this air of smugness around him. hated how he seemed to command the attention of whatever room he walked into. you hated how he now sat across from you, giving you the same look he always seemed to give you. a knowing look as though he had you right where he wanted you to be, like it was only a matter of time before you fell for him like everyone else seemed to.

you hate lee haechan. and you would never give him the satisfaction of falling for him.

“god you’re annoying. didn’t your mother ever teach you to not interrupt people when they’re speaking” you spat, arms coming to cross underneath your chest. you didn’t miss the way that haechan’s eyes travelled downward to watch the movement before snapping back upward again, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“she did, but i’m sure you can teach me some more… creative ways to shut up.” haechan leant back down onto the grass, body spread out and on full display and a hand brushing through his hair. your eyes scanned his body as he did so, feeling a slight heat rising to your ears at the sight. he was attractive, not that you’d ever let him hear that. you were stubborn, not a liar. if only his personality better matched his looks, maybe then things would be different between the two of you.

haechan just couldn’t seem to wipe the smirk off his face. he had clearly noticed the way you had noticed him. it was clear to you now that his actions being done with the intent of you gawking over him. you hated the way he got some sort of sick enjoyment out of getting a rise out of you.

“you’re actually disgusting.”

this was the normal routine between the two of you. whenever your friends has the displeasure of being in the same room as you both, they would watch your back and forths like a tennis match. haechan would always open like he had tonight with some teasing remark, always seeming to know how to push your buttons just right. you would then follow up with some kind of insult, only for haechan to then turn it into some vaguely sexual innuendo. your back and forth would continue like that until you both felt satisfied. your friends now knew better than to try to intervene after being reprimanded many times before, instead choosing to take a backseat to it all.

so that’s what your friends did, choosing to watch on in silence as you continued to go at one another. and while they knew that haechan’s comments came with the intention of driving you mad, they would have to be blind not to notice the obvious tension between the two of you. they were just waiting to see who would cave first.

“why don’t i do you a favour and take you out, that way you won’t be lonely.” haechan suggested. he now had a certain look in his eye, as though he would be doing you a favour by taking you out. you tried to barely pay it any mind, fobbing his comment off.

“i don’t need you to take me out, if i wanted to have a date, i could go out and get one.”

“really? want to bet on it?” now that caught your attention. “if you get a date by midnight you win, if you don’t, i win.” haechan continued, now sitting back upright.

“what does the winner get?”

“anything they want, so long as it isn’t too crazy.” you thought it over. knowing haechan, this was probably some sort of trap. and yet, you couldn’t seem to figure out what the downside could be. sure, there were many things haechan could force you to do if you lost. but you don’t lose, and you weren’t planning on starting now.

“bagging a date and getting to see the look on your face when i win. how could i refuse?” you sated, returning haechan’s smug attitude.

the two of you fleshed out the details together, while your friends carried on their own conversations. you needed to secure and go on a date before valentine’s was over. it could be anyone, so long as it was a legitimate date and not just some friend you had convinced to play along. you also had to make sure to get some sort of evidence of your date, such as a picture or a gift. once it was past midnight, you would meet haechan outside his dorm room and determine who was the winner.

the winner would get whatever they want from the other person, so long as it is within reason. the two of you went back and forth about what exactly ‘within reason’ meant. haechan eventually suggested that there be some sort of veto system whereby you could bypass a request, stating “i’m not an asshole, i’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do.”. that was before immediately suggesting that using the veto would be the ‘cowards way out’ and something that ‘he would never do’. after thinking it over one last time, you held out your hand in agreement. haechan simply smirked at this, reaching forward to take your hand into his own. you firmly shook hands, sealing your agreement.

finding a date was going to be so easy, you had nothing to worry about.

fuck dates. fuck valentine’s. and fuck people who had dates on valentine’s.

turns out, finding a date at 6pm on valentine’s day wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. though the universe did seem to enjoy making you suffer, so you don’t know why you were surprised. anyone you had been talking to or were casually interested in seeing were busy, already having made plans for the night.

at 7pm, you messaging anyone you had come in to some sort of contact with in your classes to see if they were free. anyone from people you’ve done a group project with to the people you’ve simply exchanged greetings with. all seemed to be busy with their own plans.

by 8pm, you were stalking the social media pages of your exes, trying to figure out if any of them were single and would be willing to take you out. much to your dismay, they all appeared to be in some sort of relationship that would prevent them from taking you out. and even though you knew some of them were shitty enough to take you out despite having someone else in their lives, you weren’t about to step on anyone's toes.

9pm brought with it desperation. time was well and truly ticking now, and you still had no hope in sight. that’s how you ended up with a horde of freshly installed dating apps staring back at you. you must have broken some kind of record trying to set them all up, cursing whoever decided that you needed to hand over your life story in order to have a complete profile.

once you got in, you immediately began swiping right in every profile that came your way, not caring if your efforts came off as desperate so long as you won. matches trickled in at a snails pace it seemed. half of them were looking for a hook-up, you now being traumatised by multiple unsolicited dick pics. the other half seemed unwilling to meet you straight away.

10pm signalled you losing hope. you finally just began to be brutally honest with the people you were matching with, hoping one of them would take pity on you and take you out. you weren’t having much luck with that strategy either, even having one of your accounts banned after one match was particularly concerned for your well-being.

11pm was when you were meant to meet the one guy crazy enough to take you up on your offer. you had thanked any holy figure you could think of when you matched, the guy being both close to campus and not scared off by your whole date-to-win-a-bet thing. you had agreed to meet at the 24-hour café on campus. and yet as the time ticked on, your match was nowhere to be found. 11 became 11:15 then 11:30 and still nothing. at 11:45 you accepted your fate, you had been stood up.

well that’s embarrassing.

but nowhere near as embarrassing it will be to admit defeat to haechan. when the alarm went off on your phone signalling that it was now midnight, you could have cried. you had actually managed to lose. you begrudgingly grabbed your things and left the café to make your way over to haechan’s dorm. after six hours of hopelessly searching for a date, you don’t think you were mentally prepared to deal with his antics. but a deal’s a deal.

pushing the door to haechan’s dorm building took more out of you than you would like to admit, your dignity seemingly vanishing into the wind. as you approached haechan’s dorm room, his figure came into view. he was wearing the same ripped jeans and sweater as before now paired with a pair of thick dark frames you had only ever seen him wear before on days when he had forgotten to put his contacts in. he chose to lean against the wall and play with his phone as he waited for you. you had taken notice of the outfit before, as you thought he looked particularly nice today. how did he manage to look this good, so late? shouldn’t he be dishevelled and in his pajamas by now?

but it also got you thinking. did haechan even have a date of his own? you knew he didn’t have a girlfriend to go out with, but maybe someone else? that would explain why he was still so well put together so late at night. but during your hangout, he never mentioned having a date of his own. and he hadn’t posted anything to indicate he was going out. did he stay all dressed up because he was meeting with you? surely not.

the sound of your platform boots against the floor altered haechan to your presence. he put his phone away in his back pocket, his eyes finally looking up to meet yours. a smirk immediately graced his lips. it was clear on your expression, he had won. you positioned yourself on the wall on the other side of the hallway with a huff.

“you can wipe that smug grin off your face, just tell me what you want as a prize.” you conceded with a roll of your eyes. you hated losing, but this was even worse. you absolutely hated giving him the satisfaction. at least you could say you tried.

haechan simply watched you, revelling in your dismay. he didn’t seem to even mull over what he might make you do, having already thought it over with the assumption that he was going to win. you knew he already had something in mind, otherwise he wouldn’t have offered the deal in the first place. what exactly was he planning?

“for my prize, you owe me a kiss.” your eyes went wide, looking at him in pure horror. as much as you wanted to believe that you had misheard him, he was crystal clear in his request. images started flashing through your head of what it would be like to kiss haechan. him having to lean down to meet your lips, hands coming to grip at your waist. how good it would feel to have him pressing against you, fingers running through his hair as he claimed his prize.

what. the. actual. fuck. since when did you think about him like that? you would slap yourself for thinking like that, but haechan had a habit of sniffing out weakness, and you didn’t want to let him see you sweat. haechan narrowed his eyes at the lack of a clap back, expecting a more explosive response. you finally decided to indulge him.

“are you serious?” you exclaimed, ignoring the slight heat you felt on the tips of your ears.

“deadly.”

“out of all the things you could get, a kiss?” haechan simply nodded, looking at you expectantly. the thoughts from earlier came rushing back to you, cheeks flaring red now.

“i’m not kissing you!” you shouted before slamming a hand over your mouth, hoping that you hadn’t woken anyone in the dorm with your antics. haechan let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“that’s unfair! it was part of the bet, i won fair and square. it’s a perfectly reasonable request!” he justified with a huff.

“to you maybe!”

“does the idea of kissing me turn you off that much?” haechan pouted, arms crossing over his chest. you had no reasonable response to that question. because despite what you insisted you felt for the man in front of you, the idea of kissing him was not turning you off. in fact, it was kind of doing the opposite. this had to be the result of sleep deprivation, or mental overexertion from trying to find a date in such a hurry. and well… he’s attractive, who wouldn’t want to kiss an attractive man?

lee haechan was trying to coax you into kissing him. and it was working.

you studied the expression on his face. at first, you thought he was playing it up, acting all pouty in an attempt to get you to cave. but underneath it all, there was something else. had your rejection managed to genuinely upset him? it seemed like it had. the back and forth between you had always been mostly lighthearted. and while you hated his attitude, you would never deliberately want to make someone upset.

well, that’s what you would say to justify what you were about to do.

haechan watched as somehow your cheeks managed to flush an even darker red, taking a couple steps forward so that you were well and truly in his personal space. you leant upwards to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, just below the mole on his cheek bone. you immediately scurried back to your side of the hallway, watching as haechan just processed what you did.

haechan was stunned. you had actually gone through with it. sort of. his eyes scanned over your blushing figure with a smirk, fingers coming up to trace where your lips had been. you watched on in horror, coming to grips with what you had just done. you could already hear the teasing remarks he was about to spew, most likely about how you hadn’t actually fulfilled your end of the deal.

he had managed to reduce you to a fumbling, blushing, rambling mess at the mere proposal of a kiss. which is probably why you jumped to speak before he could make fun of you.

“you never specified where you wanted to be kissed. if you wanted it to be somewhere specific, you should have said. i think i did you a favour by kissing you on the cheek. if anything, i think that’s a more valid form of kissing, more intimate even. i swear i read a study that said-” your rant was cut off by the feeling of lips against yours. you froze in place, eyes finally focusing on the image of haechan in front of you, his eyes having fluttered closed as he kisses you in the way he had originally intended to happen.

and for some reason that you would definitely have to unpack later, you began to kiss him back.

now that it was happening, your imagination did not do it justice. the way his soft lips left against yours. how he chose to cup your face with his hands instead of resting them on your waist. how he pulled you in closer to him as you reciprocated, his movements becoming more rushed as you leant into him. you gripped onto his sweater tightly as his tongue slid into your mouth, eliciting a sigh from the back of your throat.

it was a few minutes before the two of you parted, out of breath and panting into each other’s mouths. you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, coming to some silent agreement, before haechan turned around to open the door to his dorm room. you quickly shuffled inside, haechan following close behind as he closed and locked the door behind him.

you barely had time to kick your shoes off before he was on you again, lips pressing against yours in a way you could only describe as desperate. you returned his kiss with a giggle, hands coming up to tangle in his hair. at the feeling of you tugging on his hair, haechan let out a groan. he nipped lightly at your bottom lip before trailing kisses down the column of your neck. he seemed to find your most sensitive spots with ease, paying them the most attention as he basked in whatever small noises he could coax out of you.

he slowly began to move you both towards his bed, lips coming up to meet yours again. with the back of your legs hitting the edge of the bed, you felt haechan lightly push against your shoulder. now separated, you fell back against his mattress with a huff. you quickly shuffled further up the bed, watching as he crawled to be on top of you.

haechan paused when he came face-to-face with you. he stared down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. your cheeks grew warm at the intensity of his gaze, hands coming up to hide your face. haechan wasn’t having any of it, moving your hands to pin them either side of your head.

“what?” you finally questioned, unable to suppress the goofy smile forming on your lips. haechan let out a hearty laugh, leaning down to resume kissing you.

“you know, you could have easily won today.” he stated when he decided to pull away from you once more. you looked up at him in confusion.

“how?”

“you could have asked me out.” now you were even more confused. to accept your invitation for a date would have meant an automatic loss for him. did he want to lose?

“but that would mean you lost?”

“yeah, but it would have been worth it so see how happy winning made you.” oh. well that caught you off guard. you don’t think you had ever heard haechan say something so… romantic. and he was so genuine in his sentiment, that’s what caught you off guard the most.

haechan took your silence as an opportune moment to go back to pressing kisses against the sensitive spots on your neck. his fingers began to work at the buttons on your shirt. you watched in amusement as he struggled slightly.

“where’s all this sappiness been hiding?” you questioned, finally giving in and helping him to take off your blouse.

“it’s always been there. teasing you is just more fun.” he winked, quickly taking his own shirt off before resuming his trail of kisses down your collarbones and to the swell of your breasts.

“you’re actually evil.”

“yeah, but don’t act like you don’t like it that way.” haechan teased, movements pausing so he could rest his head on your chest and look up and you mischievously. you looked down at him and scoffed, mind beginning to conjure an appropriate retort. however, any rebuttal you had died on your tongue when haechan’s fingers slipped underneath your skirt to palm at you through your panties. he watched on with a smirk as your expression shifted from one of reprimand to pleasure.

haechan let out a quiet curse as he felt how wet you had gotten. he hastily pushed your panties aside, fingers coming to part your folds. you let out a moan as his fingers found your clit, drawing small circles around it. haechan positioned himself directly above you again, crashing your lips together in a hurried kiss. he ate up every single noise you gave him, tongue teasing them out of the back of your throat.

you felt him slip his middle finger inside of you, shallowly thrusting it in and out as his thumb came to resume the ministrations against your clit. you involuntarily parted from him with an elongated whine, back arching and head lulling back in pleasure. you felt yourself growing flushed at the depravity of it all. haechan fingering you underneath your skirt, groaning into the nape of your neck at how good you felt, spit slicked lips pressing against your skin with every noise.

“not so evil now am i?” he smirked, finally letting his finger slip all the way inside. you let out something between a laugh and a moan at the sensation, haechan somehow being able to angle his finger in just the right way to hit your most pleasurable spots with every thrust.

he was very clearly taunting you with his words, thinking he had rendered you incapable of engaging in the back and forth he enjoyed so much. the first time you attempted to respond, he slipped a second finger inside of you, resulting in you cutting yourself off with a gasp. haechan let out a small laugh at your reaction. it was like he knew you were about to make a smart ass comment. after a few more quiet moans made their way past your lips, you managed to respond.

“that’s debatable.” haechan watched you in amusement. it was clear from the way you were now gripping at his sheets that he was doing something right. and yet you still wanted to push him for more.

“how do i show you i’m good, then?” he asked with feigned innocence, removing his fingers from you entirely. you let out a high-pitched whine at the loss of pleasure. he backed off of you entirely, straddling your lap as he waited for a response. you let out a frustrated huff at his teasing.

haechan sat there silently, smirk growing wider with every moment. he wanted to do some good? then you were gonna tell him exactly how. you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, now once again face to face with the boy in your lap.

“by shutting up and putting that mouth to better use elsewhere.”

you let out a giggle as haechan pushed you back down into the mattress. he shimmied further down with his target in mind, trailing kisses along your abdomen as he moved downward. when he reached the waistband of your skirt he simply flipped the pleats up, dragging your panties down your legs and flicking them where he had flung all your other clothes.

he then positioned himself in front of your now exposed sex, letting out a string of curses at how good you looked to him. he began trailing kisses along your inner thighs, taking his time to leave some evidence behind that he had been there. on reflex, your thighs came to close around his head. he let out a groan at the feeling, hands coming up to hold them apart.

you sat up onto your elbows, letting out small noses at the feeling of his lips against your thighs. although you were a little confused. why hadn’t he taken your skirt off? surely it was just getting in the way at this point. just as he was about to move on to the main event you gripped at his hair, holding him in place. he looked up at you with an irritated look, disappointed you had just prevented him from getting a taste.

“you’re keeping my skirt on?” you questioned, your hold on haechan’s hair loosening. he furred his eyebrows in response.

“yeah? is that a problem?”

“yeah it is.”

“why?” you knew it wouldn’t be as simple as him agreeing and moving on, it never was. you were beginning to feel embarrassed by your protest, remaining in silence instead of answering. haechan sensed your reluctance, rubbing soothing circles into your thighs. “i can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” he added, looking up at you with genuine concern.

“i wanna watch you.” you admitted quietly, avoiding his gaze. haechan felt himself relax in knowing that he hadn’t done anything wrong. haechan pursed his lips as he contemplated his response. he could give in, but where was the fun in that?

“well i think you look really fucking hot in this skirt, so i’m gonna keep it on.”

“but-“

“y/n, relationships are about compromise.” haechan said with a mocking tone. the situation was almost comical. you two were probably the only people who would start bickering over the way you were about to be eaten out.

“we’re not in a relationship!” you corrected with a huff.

“just give me about five minutes and i’ll convince you otherwise.” he said with a wink, hands reaching up to grab at the hem of your skirt. he pushed it up in your direction, waiting for you to grab onto it. you did so despite your confusion, looking down at him in disbelief.

“what does that even-“ you cut yourself off with a loud moan, haechan licking a stripe up your pussy. you clung onto you skirt for dear life as haechan began to tongue at you. you watched on intently as his tongue moved against you expertly.

that didn’t last very long though, as the sensation of him finally paying attention to your clit again drove you back down into the mattress. you were sure the noises you were letting out now were loud enough for his dorm mates to hear, but you didn’t care. you released your hold on your skirt to grip at haechan’s hair, hips bucking against his face as he continued to suck on your clit.

haechan let out a groan at the feeling of your nails against his scalp. he was trying to focus on getting you off. but fuck. the sight of you was practically pornographic, expression contorted in pleasure, lips wide open with continuous moans pouring from them. haechan couldn’t help himself. he began to buck his hips against the mattress, clinging on to the small amount of pleasure that was providing.

you were well and truly lost to the pleasure at this point, fucking yourself against haechan’s face in search for your release. you untangled one your hands from his hair to push the cups of your bra aside, boobs spilling out. you began to pinch at your nipples eliciting a high whine from the back of your throat. haechan watched on in amazement, growing even more turned on if that was possible.

you were getting close, movements becoming more frenzied and desperate. haechan seemed to pick up on this. he slipped two fingers back inside of you, curling them to hit your sensitive spot just right. he felt you clenching around him, wetness dripping down his fingers and onto his sheets. that’s a problem he would gladly deal with later. you had a vice-like grip on his hair, chasing after your orgasm with little care for anything else.

your climax rushed in, suddenly clouding your senses. your eyes screwed shut as your back arched up off the bed in pleasure. haechan let out an audible whine against your clit at the way you tightened around his fingers, having to halt the movement of his own hips to avoid cumming in his pants. he helped you ride out your orgasm, only removing himself once you started letting out small whines of overstimulation.

you fell back against his mattress with a content sigh. you watched as haechan cleaned up his fingers using his tongue. when he caught your gaze he sent a wink your way. you simply shook your head with a laugh, this in contrast to the way your thighs clenched together at the sight. when you had regained some energy you came to sit up next to him. haechan looked at you expectantly, the same smug grin he wore earlier in then day now once again on his lips.

“have i convinced you?” he asked, pressing a quick kiss against your lips. you didn’t let go get away that easy. you pulled him back in, tongue slipping into his mouth. he gladly returned your movements, letting out a groan when you backed up to suck on his tongue. after a few moments, you pulled away from him, suppressing a giggle at his disappointed expression from your separation.

“almost.” you beamed. haechan looked back at you in exasperation.

“jesus woman! what more do you need?” he whined, bottom lip coming forward in a pout. it was now your turn to smirk at him.

“lie down.” you commanded. haechan complied without much thought, lying back against his mattress. you turned to straddle his thighs, reaching forward to open up his jeans. he watched on, wide-eyed, as you pulled his jeans and boxers down simultaneously, getting them off without much help from him. you bit your lip as his cock sprung back against his abdomen, tip leaking at the lack of proper attention it had received. he let out a groan as you grabbed his cock. you shifted yourself forward, your other hand coming to align yourself with him.

once his mind came back to him, haechan scrambled to stop you. he didn’t want you to think that he had only done all of this in order to get something in return. you looked back at him confused, wanting to know why he was hesitating.

“hey, you know you don’t need to do this. i wasn’t expecting anything. i’m totally fine if you leave now. i’ll be even better than fine, i’ll be amazing, spectacular even. here, i’ll just-“ you cut him off by sinking down onto his cock. you both simultaneously let out a moan at the feeling. you relished in the feeling of haechan stretching you out, while he let out strings of curses at the feeling of you being wrapped around him. once you were fully seated, you leant forward to press a quick kiss against haechan’s lips.

“you won the bet, now enjoy your prize.” you smiled. haechan returned your expression, smiling up at you brightly. you pushed back on his shoulders to position yourself up right again. you stared down at him as you lifted up your hips before slamming them back down again.

haechan watched intently as you rode him. the focused look on your face, the way your tits bounced against your bra with every movement, the way you frustratedly flipped your skirt out of the way when it was messing with your chosen rhythm. he loved how you were letting him see you like this. not the uptight and well put together person he always saw, but another side to you entirely. desperate and messy, doing whatever you could to get a sound of pleasure out of him.

“you look like a fucking mess.” haechan let slip. your movements faltered slightly, the comment flustering you. you weren’t normally like this. haechan always seemed to bring out different sides to you, and you were beginning to realise that you really enjoyed it.

“do you ever shut up?” you snapped back with a particularly harsh bounce. haechan let out a whine, hands coming to grip at your hips, halting your movements.

“i mean in a hot way! you look so fucking hot right now.” he clarified, worried he had accidentally offended you. in response, you rolled your eyes, hips rocking slightly on his cock in impatience.

“you still haven’t answered my question.”

“i’ll shut up if you make me.” challenge accepted. your lips came together in a mess, almost missing each other entirely. once haechan settled on sucking on your bottom lip, he began to thrust up into you. you let out a loud curse at the sudden movement, giving him the go ahead to take over.

haechan used his grip on your hips as leverage to continue thrusting into you, finally allowing himself to chase his own orgasm. his sharp and rough movement were sure as hell taking you along for the ride, finding yourself meeting his movements as you cried out in pleasure. haechan’s head came to rest in the nape of your neck, using it as a way to suppress his whines and groans.

as his movements became sloppier, you could tell that haechan was close. the feeling of you clenching around him was definitely helping that along. you felt your own release building up once again, hands coming to grip at haechan’s shoulders for leverage. nether of you were lasting much longer, and you were both perfectly fine with that.

haechan came first, groans morphing into whines, which morphed into a loud string of curses as he released inside of you. you continued to ride him, chasing after your own release. haechan let out whines of oversensitivity as you rode him to your own completion. you came with a loud moan, nails digging into his back, almost guaranteeing that there will be marks left there in the morning.

you let out a whine as you moved off of his cock, feeling his release leaking out of you. haechan shot off of the bed, racing to get a cloth for you to clean yourself up with. you let out a lazy laugh at his swiftness, thanking him for the cloth when he handed it over. haechan pulled you into his chest when he returned to the bed, wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzled into his chest.

“so… what now?” you asked, playing with his fingers.

“well, did i convince you that we should be together?”

“you haven’t even taken me on a date!” you exclaimed, looking up at him with a teasing look. haechan took a moment to think it over before he shot out of bed once again, reaching for where his boxers had landed. he slipped them on before reaching for his pants, you looking at him in confusion.

“what are you doing, i’m tired.”

“too bad. get up, we’re going on a date.” you shot up in the bed in shock, looking at him like he was crazy.

“now?!”

“i’ve waited for you long enough, we’re going out now.” you let out a scoff at his suggestion. you looked down at yourself, thighs covered in bruises that your skirt barely covers, said skirt being crumpled and creased from having two sets of hands gripping on to it. you didn’t even want to think about how your hair or makeup looked right now.

“i look like a mess!” you whined, slamming your hands down onto the mattress.

“i thought i made it clear to you that i’m into that.” haechan stated, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you let out an annoyed sigh. his insistence had worked, and you were giving in to his request.

“fine! just give me a second.” the second you attempted to walk away from his mattress your legs refused to comply, faltering and causing you to stumble back onto the mattress. haechan burst out laughing at your display, your cheeks blazing red at his reaction.

“holy shit! i mean, i knew i was good, but i didn’t know i was that good.” haechan joked, going around the room to pick up the various clothing items of yours that had been flung around during your activities.

“god, you’re annoying!” you complained as haechan began to help you back into your clothes. he even went so far as to help you slip your shoes back on, tying and zipping them up. you watched on with a soft smile on your lips, cherishing the romantic gesture. haechan looked up to catch you staring down at him with your love struck smile. he let out a small laugh, standing up slightly so that he was now face to face with you.

“don’t act like you would have it any other way.” haechan whispered against your lips before giving them a peck. you hated that he was right, but you couldn’t help but smiled at how well he could read you. he let you go and fix your hair and makeup quickly, watching you in the mirror of his bathroom as you did so.

once you were done, haechan outstretched his hand for you to grab. you took it gladly, being pulled into his embrace. his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guided you out of his dorm room, going on about how he was going to give you the best post-sex date you’ve ever had. you don’t think that either of you had ever had one of those before, but you weren’t gonna correct him, simply looking forward to whatever he was pulling out of his ass as a last minute plan.

and at that moment you decided that maybe liking lee haechan wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

valentine's gift masterlist main masterlist requests and asks are open!

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xjulixred45x · 2 months ago

Note

Mark x male viltrumite reader. Where reader is sent to earth instead of Anissa since he is closer to marks age. With orders to get close to mark and spy on his progress. But starts to grow closer to mark and the earth.

WOOOOOOOooo-DRAMA! I LOVE THIS!

Also, unrelated, but defo Mark (of the series at least) give me HUGE Bisexual vibes

Mark Grayson/Invencible x Viltrimite! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: male

Warnings: spoilers from Both the comics and the series of Invencible, Reader has ISSUES and problems, but gets character devemplot, Viltrume culture, violence. Comfort/Fluff in the end.

• The Viltrumite empire was going through a great crisis. Well, maybe not to the same level of crisis as the plague, but it was definitely enough to make a big fuss. The reader found out because it was the most interesting thing they had had in many years.

• A Viltrum agent had not only withdrawn from his assigned mission on a primitive planet, but his son (an almost pure Viltrumite) seemed to refuse to continue with the mission (it seemed due to some kind of affection towards the species of that world. How absurd)

• For the same reason, there was a debate about who should be sent to check the boy's progress (if he made any progress in conquest) on the Earth.

• One of the first choices was Anissa, an elite warrior who everyone respected. However, the reader could not miss the opportunity to see such a unique case, curiosity was killing him. He then used his best charms to convince Thragg to let him go.

• Much to Anissa's chagrin, the quest was designed for the reader.

• However, what they didn't take into account was the peculiar way in which the reader planned to monitor the young Viltrumite.

• The earth was… .primitive. not Bad. Just primitive . It was what he expected, but it was suitable enough to blend in among the humans Grayson loved so much. From there, he would form his plan...

• Mark was having the worst week of his life.

• First the whole situation with Armstrong, his father, and now the Viltrumites may be coming after him and his family, his girlfriend broke up with him, he decided to leave school to focus solely on being a hero and he honestly felt miserable.

• Until one day, things changed.

• He was waiting for William at the fast food place, just wanting to have a “normal” time before getting back to the action. However, William seemed to be “fashionably late.”

• In those moments, while Mark was simply staring into space, thinking about his things, someone spoke to him. Or well, it seemed like he had already tried to talk to him and he hadn't realized. He was so tired...

• "-Hey! Are you okay man?”

• When Mark realized this, he turned to see a boy around his age, who looked confused at his lack of response, almost worried.

• Mark apologized for that and he and the guy (who is called “reader” apparently) had a friendly chat while he waited.

• He seemed like a very positive boy, a bit of that enthusiasm rubbed off on Mark. Reader said he came from out of state, wasn't on very good terms with his family, and wanted to basically start over in the city.

• Even if Mark was a little worried about the detached way the boy talked about his family, it felt good to talk to him. So when he offered to exchange numbers, he didn't really put up any resistance.

• How bad can it be to have a friend? At least he wanted to have one that wouldn't get screwed because of his superhero job...

• William eventually arrived, but when Mark was about to introduce him to the reader, he had already left. Queer. But then again, he was so tired lately that reader could have left while he didn't notice.

• Meanwhile, reader looked from the top of a water tower, playing a little with his phone's camera to focus on Mark and William leaving the premises, smiling to himself, before taking flight as quickly as possible in the opposite direction.

• Oh, Mark, you're in big trouble~

• From there, Mark and reader would chat relatively often, reader making sure to have a context consistent with his “situation” on earth. Whether it's to see some place in the city, to try some kind of food, even reader discovered that human sports are fun to watch! The more Blood, the better.

• Mark didn't really think Reader's behavior was strange, I mean yes, he ate a lot more than the average person, and he loved to scream in contact games (and scream very violently) but those were normal things in NORMAL guys, right?

• What was definitely not normal was that every time he and Reader went out in public, almost always, something happened where they needed Invincible, Mark swore it was just his damn luck again. Like when he was on dates with Amber, now was when he finally had a social life—

• The thing is that, it wasn't like that, the reader thoroughly studied all the villains in the city, memorized the possible dates of their robberies, and so he could see Invincible in action, it was incredible. His own source of entertainment (WHILE accomplishing your mission!)

• What he don't expect, though, was that at some point, this would stop feeling... good.

• There was one time, when they went to a park, that a villain was especially rude to Mark- I mean, to Invincible. Reader could see how the villain almost pulverized the bones in his left arm, the pain on Mark's face.

• And he no longer felt satisfaction.

• He felt guilt.

• Why was he putting him through that? Clearly this Viltrumite cannot carry out the invasion, he should have noticed that immediately (no, he NOTICED it immediately, but he was so into it out of curiosity and now he got attached--) and go back to the Viltrumites.

• Why did he feel that way? Why now?

• Why did he now feel empathy when Mark told him how conflicted he was about the future?

• Why did he get excited about these silly human activities?

• Why did he start avoiding places where Mark could get hurt when they went out again? Why did he feel bad lying to him?

• Oh no…no no no no no NO-

• Mark had seen many, many strange things, but seeing his new friend, fly through the skull of a sea monster, was definitely a lot to take in one day.

• But that wasn't even the worst thing, the worst thing was that he was wearing a Viltrumite uniform.

• And his whole world stopped. He didn't even feel angry or betrayed, just disappointed. He wanted to be disappointed. Stay away from him even if he was calling him, calling him by his name.

• Despite this, he did not resist when reader grabbed his hand trying to stop him, when he looked up, he did not see a crazy bloodthirsty warrior, not even someone like his father.

• He saw someone sad, regretful, a reader with the world in pieces...

• Because he realized that everything he ever learned, believed in, was wrong.

• Mark had been there before, in his position.

• he couldn't hate him, he couldn't leave him. He wouldn't do it.

• If we jump to the relationship headcanons directly, leaving aside the rocky start, you can bet there would still be drama.

• First of all, Debbie is quite skeptical about letting the reader live with her, Mark and Oliver, but seeing that he was now reduced to a kicked puppy made it easier.

• Mark tries to guide the reader in aspects of Earth culture that he couldn't before, now that he knows his context he can better teach him those concepts (things like his childhood memories, entertainment, ways of getting energy that don't involve killing the other person , etc.)

• To no one's surprise, Mark is very insistent that the reader not talk to Russel, he knows that if he finds out that there is another Viltrumite they will most likely want to open him up to see his weaknesses, so no.

• I think one of the best ways to bond with these two is to play video games, since then the reader can “fight” without really having to hurt themselves and thus learns to change their competitive nature.

• Reader is definitely the more flirtatious of the two, I don't set the rules, Mar doesn't really know how he does it until he remembers that Reader is probably much older than he looks (now he would like to forget that).

• Since they're both super humans, they get to spend a lot more time together (other than missions) and Mark honestly likes seeing the reader's expressions when they visit a new country. He was so used to all the planets looking the same, he didn't expect so much culture from such a small planet!

• Of course, just because the reader is working on being less violent does not mean that he has stopped fighting completely, sometimes Mark calls it as reinforcement, sometimes they both decide to train together.

• Ironically the greatest strength of their relationship is in domestic acts.

• Mark has taught the reader how to cook! Something like that, at least he doesn't cut the entire cutting board anymore. They even have a race to see who eats the fastest. Needless to say, the reader usually wins.

• At first, reader is very, very confused with physical affection, Mark would try to hug him from behind and he would Suplex him. But that is precisely the consequences of growing up with the Viltrumites.

• Now, ironically, reader is stuck to Mark like a tick, and Mark honestly adores him, he seems like a clingy dog. Except that said dog will rip your hand off if you insult Mark in front of him (he still finds it cute).

• There are times when the reader can't sleep, Mark feels like he walks from one side of his room to the other, how he sometimes falls out of bed, and he honestly doesn't blame him. He also has night terrors.

• sometimes Reader just looks behind and regrets EVERY day he didn't get away before, before he did those things, before he destroy so many's peoples lifes. No matter how many times Marks tell him he didn't know better, the Blood is something he NEVER loses ...

• So sometimes they just go into the living room, with a big bowl of ice cream, and cuddle until they're asleep. A nice domestic moment.

• Wow, no wonder Nolan left the mission. Love feels great.

• In general, a couple that has many battles ahead of them, but they will know how to resolve them. Together.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Mark really said "i can fix him" and it worked💀

#headcanons #male reader #invincible show #invincible series #mark grayson #invincible spoilers #invincible comic #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 11 months ago

Text

tense

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 2.5K

Warnings: Set after the movie; kid's tennis coach Patrick; single mom reader; fingering; oral sex ; vaginal sex; safe sex

Summary: You'd realized within a few meetings that Patrick wasn't exactly like a big kid—he was more like a frat boy that had never gone to college. He'd asked for an advance on his fee, but had agreed to an all-cash payment at the end of the first lesson. He palled around with your son, teased him about school, about the girls that he had a crush on. He didn't fill the role of a father where your son didn't have one, but he was more like an older, cooler schoolmate.

He was funny, he was knowledgeable, and he never missed an opportunity to flirt with you.

"You nail this kid's dick to the wall, I'll teach you that trick shot."

You know that the outward show of your disapproval for your eleven-year-old son's tennis coach's is necessary, but you're biting back a laugh, too. You know that it's the motivation that your son needs going into his final match, but there's gotta be a better way to say it, right?

Still, your son is nodding enthusiastically, and Patrick is turning to look at you. You tip your head to the side, purse your lips, and try not to crack a smile at the guilty, almost dopey smile that Patrick gives you, accompanied by a little shrug. You shake your head and reach for your coffee, using the sip to cover the smile you've been fighting.

Well, Patrick's methods have always been...A little unorthodox.

You'd been warned that he was a little different when you'd gotten his information. Your contact at the Mark Rebellato Academy had recommended him when your son hadn't qualified for a scholarship.

"He needs to get his game up," Your contact had said, "And Zweig's the one to do it. He'll write him a recommendation, too. He's a good guy, good coach. He's not on the level with the kids, but he can get there, you know. He's good with kids 'cause he kinda...Sometimes acts like a big kid."

You'd realized within a few meetings that Patrick wasn't exactly like a big kid—he was more like a frat boy that had never gone to college. He'd asked for an advance on his fee, but had agreed to an all-cash payment at the end of the first lesson. He palled around with your son, teased him about school, about the girls that he had a crush on. He didn't fill the role of a father where your son didn't have one, but he was more like an older, cooler schoolmate.

He was funny, he was knowledgeable, and he never missed an opportunity to flirt with you.

The first time, you'd figured that it was just his way of trying to secure his place as your son's coach, but after the fifth time, you got the sense that he was sort of just...Like that. Every hello and goodbye came with a less-than-subtle elevator gaze—a slow sweep up and down over your body before he gave you a little wave and sent you and your son on your way.

For as surprising as flirting had been, it wasn't totally unwelcome. Your dating life had basically been nonexistent since you'd had your son, and Patrick's advances were kinda...Flattering, even when you weren't completely sure that he meant them.

But the truth of it had been driven home when you'd been driving your son home from practice.

"Patrick asked about you."

"Oh?" You'd responded distractedly, figuring it would be something related—whether or not you'd ever played tennis, if you enjoyed it—but your son went on:

"He asked if you're single."

Your brain stalled for a moment, not fully taking it in as you pulled the car into your driveway.

"...He what?" You finally asked, twisting to look at him.

"Uh-huh. And if you date."

"What'd you say?"

"I dunno. That you're busy."

It was a fair answer, and the truth, but there shouldn't have been a world in which your son was getting that question in the first place. You stewed on it for a few hours before you ultimately called Patrick. You eyed your son a room away where he was doing his homework, listening to the brrrrr....brrrrr as you waited for Patrick to pick up.

"Hey—"

"What the hell are you doing, asking my son if I'm single?"

Patrick doesn't answer for a moment, and it gives you a chance to imagine where he must be, what he must be doing. You can hear the murmur of a tv in the background. Is he in a house, an apartment? Alone, or with someone that's trying to pin him down? You can imagine the cracked screen of his phone pressed up against his beard.

"...It just came up."

"How the hell did something like that just come up?"

"I asked him if he ever practiced with his dad."

Your hand flexes around your phone, irritation rising.

"We don't have contact with his father."

"Yeah, I uh. I got that."

"What's that have to do with me dating?"

"That was just pure curiosity."

You close your eyes, trying to quell your annoyance.

"Well if you have a question about that sort of thing, you ask me, not my son."

"Okay."

"Do not cross that line again, Zweig."

"Okay."

"I mean it."

"I won't."

"I'm serious—"

"I am, too. I won't ask him about that stuff."

"Good."

"So when's the last time you got fucked?"

Your jaw dropped, face going hot as you tried to parse where the hell this man got the audacity to ask you that kind of thing.

"Excuse me?"

"Thought it seemed like a pretty straightforward question."

"It's a stupid one."

"...Yeah, you're right."

It should end there, but before you can wrap the conversation up, he adds—"It's pretty clear that you haven't gotten any in a while."

"Is it."

"Very obvious, yeah. You're really tense."

"This is just how I am naturally."

"I doubt that."

"Doubt all you want, but you're wrong."

"I don't mind. It's kinda hot," He adds, "You've got that grumpy milf thing goin' on."

Your mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before you managed, "Okay, I—I am hanging up on you now."

"Sure. Think'a me when you're rubbing one out later."

You hang up without another word, your face hot with embarrassment. You take in a deep breath, dampening the appeal of the curse words that bubble up in your throat. You're fine. You're not worked up. Patrick Zweig did not get to you.

But despite your best efforts, you did, in fact, think of him as you rubbed one out.

His flirting hasn't lessened since then. If anything, it's become more overt. Patrick never says anything untoward when your son is around, but he teases you when the two of you are waiting for your son to get his things together, or over text between lessons. You never take it too seriously. You're sure he's coaching other kids, flirting with their moms just as much. Part of his personality, part of his business model—whatever it is, it's pure Patrick, so you don't begrudge him.

You look at Patrick again as he sits beside you in the stands.

"Nail his dick to the wall?" You repeat.

"With points. Obviously."

"Right."

"You look unconvinced."

"I just don't think that that's necessarily the right way to motivate my son."

"Really?"

"Really."

"...Huh."

You try to ignore his mock curiosity as he leans back in his seat, propping his elbows up on the chairs behind you. When your son serves, hitting a solid ace, and crowing in excitement as the ref declares the point his, you feel Patrick preening beside you, and feel his arm curl around the back of your chair. You can't even bring yourself to be truly annoyed, but you make a point of sighing anyway.

"What were you saying?"

"Can it, Zweig."

"So a trick shot isn't a way to motivate him, but this is?" Patrick waves his arm toward the array of flashing, screeching games, the children zipping back and forth, their pockets bursting with tokens and prize tickets.

"I promised him a month ago that if he won his tournament, he could pick two friends and come to Chuck E. Cheese. I just..." You trail off, "I didn't think that...He'd be pick you as one of the friends."

"Am I not his friend? I'm wounded."

"You are—Kinda, I just mean that I figured he'd pick two of his friends from school. You know, kids his own age?"

"Ah," Patrick nods. "Well, I'm flattered."

"I'm sure."

"...I am."

You hesitate before you turn to look at Patrick, and are stunned to find a small, sincere smile on his lips. You can't help but smile a bit, too.

"He appreciates you," You admit. "Your guidance, you know. You've totally changed his game."

"Eh," Patrick looks around. "He would've gotten there without me."

"Not on his own."

"...Not without you, either," Patrick meets your eye again. And while you're certain that everything else he's ever said about you has been a joke, you can tell that he means this. But you can't help but deflect:

"Yeah, well. I'm his mom. There are most places he can't get without me. School, for example."

Patrick huffs a soft laugh, and you smile—really smile. You see something in Patrick's eyes that you haven't seen before, something warm and wanting. You don't let yourself read too much into it as you turn to look around the Chuck E. Cheese again—but before you know it, Patrick is scooching closer, curling his arm around the back of your chair.

"So," He presses his thigh against yours, and you try not to think about the hard, steady muscle, "You still haven't gotten any, huh?"

You bite the inside of your cheek as you fold your arms across your chest.

"Do you have any idea how inappropriate that question is?"

"I know exactly how inappropriate it is."

"And how uncalled for?"

"I think it's very called for."

"Really."

"Very."

"I can't say I agree with you."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not asking you to agree, I'm just asking you to answer."

"You seem to think you know the answer."

"I dare you to tell me I'm wrong." You feel his breath brush against your jaw as he leans closer, lowers his voice to a husky murmur: "And even if I am somehow wrong, whoever it was did not do it right."

"The hell makes you say that?"

"You're still tense."

"I'm always tense. I'm naturally tense."

"I still don't believe that."

"I don't care what you think, and you know what else?"

"What."

"I don't think you could make me cum." You make the mistake of looking at Patrick when you say it. You hope that you've wounded him, but his knowing smile just widens.

"Really."

You can hear his slick smugness, and you know that he doesn't believe you at all. But you force yourself to hold his gaze, nodding.

"Really."

He pouts just a little, nodding.

"I think we should test that hypothesis. Make sure you really are just that tense."

"Even if I did agree to that, I don't exactly have a ton of time.

"What about when he's at school?"

"I have a job."

"Right."

"Mhm. It 's how I'm able to pay you for the lessons?"

"That makes sense. I'll work something out."

"Will you."

"Sure."

"I'd like to see you try."

Patrick grins, leaning back in his seat again.

"You're gonna like a lot more than that."

When you get the text, you realize that he must know that you're not—that your son must have told him about his friend's birthday party, that you'd have a free afternoon. You're tempted to tell him that you're occupied—that you have a date, that you've found someone else to fuck you.

But as you stare down at Patrick's text—Busy?—you can't help but lean into your curiosity.

It's supposed to be different from this. It's supposed to be awkward, and weird, and not nearly as good, but you can't help it. Your thighs are tense; your fingers are curled in the sheets; your arms are shaking as you hold yourself up, pushing back against Patrick's cock. He groans against your shoulder, his arm hooked around your middle as he fucks you from behind.

His breath pushes hotly against your shoulder, a groan pushing between his lips with each thrust. His hand slides up to grasp your breast, squeezing and teasing in a way that makes you shiver.

Goddamn, but it shouldn't be so good. He shouldn't have been able to make you cum on his tongue and fingers with that dopey grin on his face. He shouldn't have covered your body in kisses in a way that made you feel cherished and wanted and special in a way that you haven't felt in a long time. And now, he shouldn't be able to make you want to press back, to chase down the stretch of his cock as he picks up his pace.

You reach back, grasping his thick curls as he nuzzles against your neck, chasing the scrape his beard with a soothing, slick kiss.

"Patrick," You breathe, "Fuck, I—Oh, God."

"Cum for me again," He urges, sliding his hand down to toy with your tingling clit. "Fuck, tighten up on me, baby—Fuck, that's it, that's it—"

You cry out as you cum, hips rabbiting back against his as your orgasm swells. Patrick groans, pulling out as you're still cumming. He crawls up over you, yanking off the condom and jacking his cock over your parted lips. You lean up, taking the head of his cock in and swirling your tongue. The first spurt of his cum catches you off-guard as much as the feeling of his cock pressing more deeply into your mouth as he thrusts. You draw back just enough to let go of his cock, jerking it as his cum sprays across your neck and shoulder.

Patrick finally lowers himself to lay beside you, panting as the two of you settle. You glance over, taking in his hairy chest, his muscled physique. You watch the rise and fall of his chest as he calms his breathing, and feel his hand smoothing over your thigh. You smile a little bit at the feeling, giving his hand a pat before you push yourself off of the bed to go to the bathroom and grab a washcloth. You rinse your mouth out while you're able, cleaning his cum off of your skin before returning to the bedroom, passing the washcloth to Patrick. He mutters his thanks, wiping himself down beside he tosses it away.

"C'mere," He urges.

You climb back into bed with a narrowed, speculative gaze as Patrick takes your hand, drawing you closer.

"Hey," He laughs, "What's that face for?"

"Nothing."

"You still tense?"

"Told you I would be."

"I think you're faking it. And that better be all you're faking."

"What if it isn't?"

"Oh, it is."

"How can you know that?"

"I know." He doesn't let you keep your distance long, curling his arms around your middle and drawing you into his lap. You wobble a little, tucking your legs beneath yourself and steadying your hands on his shoulders. Patrick's hands slip down to cup your ass, giving it a playful squeeze and grinning when you smile. Patrick tips his head up, dotting your neck with kisses as you tip your head to the side, giving him a bit more room.

"What time's the party over?" He mumbles against your skin.

"Of all things, he didn't tell you that?"

"Said you might let him sleep over at his friend's place, but you hadn't decided yet."

You smile, nodding.

"I did tell him that."

"What'd you decide?"

"...He can sleep over."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Can I sleep over?"

"You gonna be on your best behavior?"

Patrick leans back, grinning up at you.

"Not a chance."

#Patrick Zweig x Reader #Patrick Zweig x You #Patrick Zweig/Reader #Patrick Zweig/You #Patrick Zweig fic #Patrick Zweig imagine

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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago

Note

I've seen you mention that alastor would make little deer bleats in a few fics, do you have anything for the reader hearing him bleat for the first time, like reader said something flirty that caught him off guard or while petting his ears, alastor would definitely be the time to be like "what ever are you talking about dear, you're hearing things" and try to change the subject out of embarrassment

- 🐞

I LOVE IT

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, Explicit s e x towards the end

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor makes deer noises, usually when he's pissed off or exerting some of his power

It's a very emotional and unintentional thing, something he normally can't help or hide

Usually, you can hear buck grunts, warning calls, though elk bugle sounds dominate most of the other noises he makes

You didn't even know he was capable of making softer sounds until you found out by accident

The two of you were alone, sharing a romantic moment with you in his lap and his hands caressing your body

You had pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath when his twitching ears suddenly got your attention

Not that Alastor minded, keeping his mouth busy with your neck and shoulder instead

As if you could ever pass up the opportunity to touch those fluffy ears...

You couldn't help but scratch and rub his furry ears, leaning into kiss one while giving it a playful nip

Only to be surprised by the soft bleat that escapes from Alastor and the way his entire body goes stiff out of embarrassment

"Alastor, did you just-"

"Would you look at the time?! I must go, darling! Things to do, people to see!"

Leaves you on the floor, on your back, and in shock

You try to bring it up to him later but that doesn't work-

"Alastor, about that sound you made..."

"Hm? Oh! I merely had to clear my throat! Not to worry, darling! It won't happen again."

"But I want it to."

👀

It becomes a game between you two, well...more of a game for you, Alastor has never been so nervous in his fucking life

You're on a mission to hear that adorable noise again by any means possible

He's eating breakfast?? You're leaning over him and kissing along his neck while pouring him tea

Which doesn't work, he just tilts his head and gives you a contented growl before continuing with his meal

He's taking a small break? Eyes closed and relaxed? You try going for his ears again, massaging them

That doesn't work either, instead he gives you a warm smile and pulls you down to lay with him

You try flirting with him, maybe you can say something sultry and catch him so off guard he makes that sound again?

Instead, you just get yourself into trouble because instead of something small and subtle you just drop a fucking bomb instead

You corner him and pin him to the wall, mustering up every bit of courage and control to push forward

"Do you believe dreams can come true? Because I dream of you cumming inside me."

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT PICK UP LINE

Angel

Oh that makes sense

It doesn't work, instead Alastor gets a predatory look on his face and he's pulling you closer to him

"Luckily for you, my dear~ I happen to have a soft spot for dreamers such as yourself~"

Oh fuck

It actually does end up working in your favor, just not the way you thought it would

You don't even remember how you end up naked on your back, legs spread to accommodate Alastor between them

Both of you are close, having been at it for hours at this point, desperate ragged sounds coming from the two of you

Your nails are digging into his back, no doubt leaving nasty marks that he'll later tease you for

He has one clawed hand on your hip while the other grips and makes deep grooves into the headboard

You're nearly out of it, mind fizzy and hot with the feeling of being so full of Alastor's cock that you almost miss your chance

You know exactly how to get that sound out of him

Suddenly, your legs lock around him and you're tugging him down to you to give him a desperate steamy kiss

He's caught off guard and startled but eagerly reciprocates your actions, chasing a building orgasm between you both

He pulls away to growl and pant, head rolling back as his thrusts become sharp and erratic

You tug him back to you by his hair and suddenly give him a watery smile, barely able to hold on because you're so close

"A-Alastor...haa...I love you...~"

And that's what does it, his eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly releases inside you, letting out a pathetic sounding bleat

He's so mortified afterwards, burying his face in your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair. Both of you shuddering and trying to catch your breaths

"You...you are an evil evil person..."

You can't help but laugh and kiss his head, scratching around his antlers affectionately

"I love you too, Alastor~ Every part of you~"

This one got away from me...it's probably not what you asked for but... I hope you like it!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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jhdyuiee · 4 months ago

Text

treasure trove

𓇼 pairing: husband!johnny x fem!reader

𓇼 tags/warnings: fluff, smut!, unprotected sex, tit job, fingering, multiple positions/orgasms, oral (m receiving), tit/breast play, sucking/marking/biting, kissing/making out, dirty talk, breeding kink, cursing, name calling (good girl) & pet names (wife, babe), sex by the beach :0, rough johnny

𓇼 w.c: 2k

𓇼 a.n: hehe, i told ya'll i'd be back very soon and with my first ever johnny fic no less, hehe. anyhow this is the last release of the week, please stay tuned next weekend for my next releases! thank you for your continuous love and support, i truly appreciate it & i love ya'll just so much! until next week, jiji out 🤍

Maldives.

Nothing beats the ocean side view. The water so clear, so exquisite. You looked out the window of the restaurant you and your husband were dining in for the night. Today marked a day until your honeymoon was over. You were a bit sad, not wanting this to end, not wanting to leave just yet.

You watched as the sun slowly set, illuminating the beautiful ocean. You were always fond of the ocean, it was the center of all your good moments in life. You teared your gaze from the beautiful ocean to the man in front of you.

Your husband: Johnny Suh.

“I’m starting to think you’re on this honeymoon with the ocean rather than with me,” Johnny says as he swirls the wine in his cup.

You couldn’t help but smile at his commentary. “Jealous of the ocean, Suh?” you teased.

“You’re a Suh too now you know,” he answered, taking the cup of wine to his lips. His face scrunches up when he gets a taste. He sets the glass down, using that hand to entwine his fingers with yours.

“Did I ever tell you how magnificent you look tonight?” your husband speaks, a slight blush adorning your cheeks.

“Yes, yes you have… in fact it's all you’ve said to be tonight,” you told your husband who just looked at you like a love struck fool. He was your fool, head over heels for you. In Johnny’s world he always thanked the lord above for letting him meet someone like you.

“Well, what can I say, my wife is simply just the most radiant woman in the whole world!” he says a bit louder, loud enough for other guests to hear.

You slightly shout his name as you see the few guests turn around to your table. Johnny just laughs, bringing your entwined hands to his lips where he kissed it so lovingly.

“I love you,” he mutters, instantly melting your heart.

“I love you too,” you tell him as you then bring his hand to your lips so you could do the same thing.

And so your dinner with Johnny continued, laughter and smiles radiating from your table. Everyone in that restaurant could feel the love surrounding you two– the newly wedded couple. Once it was time to go, Johnny made sure to take your hand–holding it real tight–and walk you to his car. You noticed there was no one else there except you two, Johnny noticed this too. And Johnny for one was someone who wouldn’t miss an opportunity to do something… revolting.

His hands quickly find their way to your waist, holding you as he slams his mouth onto yours. You could taste remnants of his wine from him, intoxicating yourself. You didn’t mean the wine, but Johnny himself, the man was like an addicting drug, something you couldn’t help but intoxicate yourself with.

You find yourself trapped, being eaten alive almost. His tongue fights against yours, dominance overriding Johnny. His hands lingered on your ass, groping it which caused you to moan into his mouth. He lightly smacks one of your cheeks before soothing it. You could feel your panties begin to wetten, yourself begin to heat up.

He parts from the heated kiss first, instead going to kiss your cheek, jaw, before settling on your neck. He uses one hand to brush away any hairs, leaving your neck in full exposure to him. He nips on your skin before sucking on it. You grab onto his brown locks, holding him as he tries marking you. You were sure you were going to be left in a body full of marks by the time ya’ll leave tomorrow. Well, not that you were complaining.

Once Johnny felt satisfied he parts from your neck, meeting you at eye level. And just as he was about to devour you again, you two hear a woman’s laughter in the distance. You two freeze, instantly sobering up. However you didn’t fail to notice the remnants of lust in Johnny's eyes.

“Just wait until we get into the villa,” he whispers into your ear before taking your hand to guide you to the passenger seat. As you take your seat and he begins to drive off, your mind wanders to all the indecencies that are about to unravel.

𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉

You two couldn’t make it past the front door before he had you two undressing. You were left in nothing, naked as he sucked on your tits. “How are you so perfect,” he groans against your breast, kissing his way to the other one where he proceeds to suck on your nipple before marking you up. You gripped onto his hair, watching as he loved on your body.

When he’s had enough he brings his lips to yours, pecking them before saying, “why don’t you take care of me now, I’ve been hard ever since the restaurant.” Johnny guides your hand to his hardened member that was still confined by his boxers. You shyly smiled before dropping onto your knees where you then proceed to take them off. His cock springs out, leaking with pre already and the tip looking red.

You licked your lips before inching towards his cock. You dart your tongue out before swirling it around his tip, licking up his pre. You groaned at the sour taste, only focusing on his tip. Johnny looks down at you with an urge to just shove himself down your throat, but he wanted you to do it yourself. He watched as your cute tongue licked his tip before licking his slit. He curses and closes his eyes at the pleasuring sensation.

You looked up, finding your husband in pure ecstasy from just some licking. You felt it was right to now kick things up a notch, so you spit on his cock. You used one of your hands to spread the spit around him, making sure to wet him well. When you felt it was wet enough you begin.

Johnny opens his eyes again when he feels his cock slide in between something soft, something he knew all too well: your tits.

“Fuck,” Johnny curses as he watches you try to fuck his cock in between your tits. Eventually opting to help you out by thrusting himself in between them, watching as you take his tip inside your mouth.

He knew he wasn't going to last, feeling himself nearing his release. You too could feel it in the way he twitched in between you. So being the caring wife that you are, you helped him out a bit by squeezing your tits a bit tighter and taking him in your mouth more deeper.

Johnny gripped your head, holding it as he came. His warm seeds erupting inside your mouth before you swallowed them. You lick him clean one last time before getting back up. Johnny immediately kisses you, tasting himself on you. You feel as his fingers go to your dripping cunt, he moans at the amount of juice overflowing you right now. He continues, sliding them in between your pussy lips. He barely gets to your entrance before you part from the kiss to say: “Pl-Please Johnny, in-inside… inside me pl-please.”

He groans, “anything for you my wife,” he says, unable to resist your pleas.

He flips your two around, your back against the wall. He takes one of your legs into his hand, holding it as he uses his other hand to bring his cock to your dripping entrance. You watched intently, watched as you swallowed him right up. Your hands fly to his shoulders, holding him as you feel his girth spread your gummy walls apart. He was snug inside you, fitting into you just right.

“So fucking tight, feels so good,” Johnny moans against your ear before kissing it. You mutter a sultry, yes, back to him.

Johnny starts thrusting, in and out, you watched with watery eyes. The pleasure so massive as you feel his cock reach up to your cervix, kissing your womb so nicely. You chant out his name when he continues pumping his length into you ruthlessly. You could feel yourself being fucked into oblivion already. You tightened yourself even more around him. “Fuck, already gonna cum babe?” Johnny asks.

“Mmmm,” you say, unable to cohort a simple sentence. Your fingers scratched Johnny’s back as he continued pounding you against the wall.

Johnny watches you in pleasure, watching the way your tits bounced in front of him. It was a sight he couldn't pass up on. Johnny wraps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on the poor thing as you grew closer to your release.

Too lost in the overstimulation from his cock and mouth, you failed to notice his fingers which grazed your clit. It wasn’t until you felt them rub your clit that you felt your eyes widened. Involuntary moans erupted from you as he continued playing with your clit.

“I’m… I’m cumming,” you moaned, as you gushed around his cock. Johnny too moans, loving the way you felt as you came around his cock. He continues his thrusting, overstimulating you into mini orgasms until he finally cums. You still couldn’t get used to how much he would cum, how’d he’d fill you up with such warmth.

However, just when you thought it was over, it wasn’t. Unlike the other nights, tonight Johnny was in a desperation of more. He carried you further inside the villa, rushing to the bedroom. He plops you on the bed, feeling it dip as he climbs on as well. Johnny opens your legs, watching as your and his orgasm mixed together and dripped out of you.

“Say, my dear wife, what if we have a child,” Johnny blurts out.

You didn’t know what to say, was this the cause of his sex driven state or was he genuine? Well, whatever the case, you didn’t mind. You were always talking about how much you wanted a child and were always ready to have one if the time ever arose.

“Do it, get me pregnant tonight my dear husband,” you whispered, pecking his lips. you were testing him, a test Johnny wasn’t going to play by tonight. He backs up a bit, spreading your legs wider before positioning his cock in between your folds. He rubs himself in between them, gathering the remnants of his leaking cum only to push them back inside.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, “I could feel you so deep.”

Johnny smirks, watching your face twist in pleasure, watching as your eyes glistened with tears. He pistoned his thrust, hips slapping against your ass. He continues his ruthless thrust in and out of your cunt as the squelching sounds echoed in the room. He was wrecking your cunt, trying to make sure he was the only one that could ever leave you satisfied for all your life.

“Keep squeezing me babe and you’ll milk me in no time,” he groans, feeling as you squeezed him. “Good girl, just like that,” he then says as he rubs your clit once more.

“I’m go-gonna cum,” you moaned, tongue lolling out, “Cum wi-with me!”

His thrusting falters, going irregular until he finally cums inside you for a second time tonight. Yet he wasn’t done, he still had a promise to uphold. The promise to make sure you left this trip pregnant with his child, our child. And so he fucks his cum into you deeper, not stopping until he’s sure he’s made you pregnant.

𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉𓆉

Once everything seemed all perfect to him, Johnny takes his cock out of your stuffed pussy. Remnants of his animalistic side, subduing and being replaced by a gentle and cuddly husband. Johnny engulfed you into his body, his warmth, as he whispered sweet-nothings into your ear.

Then everything fell silent, the ocean waves sounding in the distance lulling you to sleep. You peacefully slept in Johnny’s arms, resting after a long day and night. In the midst of you sleep you felt a hand graze your stomach, and a loving whisper in your ear.

“I promise to protect you both, my treasures.”

2024. 11. 10

final a.n: have a great weekend! stay safe! & creds to the person who created the dividers, i lost their tumblr page so i couldn't tag them ahhh

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raevingmadness · 1 month ago

Text

Tour bus

Billie Eilish x afab!reader

‼️18+ content‼️

‼️Warnings: fingering, oral, use of strap, switch!Billie, Switch!Y/N, referring to strap as cock/dick‼️

.~*_______________________________________*~.

It was well known that Billie’s love language was physical touch. She was especially clingy with Y/N, her partner. When they were together, Billie was on her lap, in her arms or holding onto her shirt. Now Billie was out on tour, it was hard for her to go such long amounts of time without the love of her life by her side. When Y/N finally had the opportunity to fly out to join her for about a week or two on tour, Billie was over the moon. Finneas wouldn’t let her go more than five seconds without being teased about her clingy behaviour.

Sure, there was the sweet side of Billie Y/N got to see when they reunited. The giddy smile, the hugs, the kisses. But best believe as soon as they got a moment alone, a whole new side to Billie came out. Not clingy Billie, needy Billie.

She was all over her girlfriend, kissing and squeezing her as they stumbled onto the tour bus. The couple didn’t even make it to the bed. Billie had her partner pinned beneath her on the couch. “Billie, baby, you’re being pushy.” Y/N breathed out as her shirt was thrown across the room and Billie’s hands moved around her back to unclasp her bra. “‘M sorry, babygirl. Just missed you s’much.” She murmured between hasty kisses to Y/N chest. “Shit-“ the taller girl gasped as the singer’s lips closed around her nipple. Billie moaned against Y/N’s soft skin. She’d missed that sound, that breathy moan she was always able to coax out from her girl.

As Billie moved closer, swirling her tongue around Y/N’s nipple, the shape of something familiar became clear in her shorts. “Fuck. You’ve been shopping without me, hm?” She breathed out. Billie smirked as she took off her own shirt and threw it on the floor. “Mhm, I kept you in mind.” She purred. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of Y/N’s shorts, tugging them down. She bowed her head down, nipping at her thighs and soothing the marks with kisses or gentle licks. “Stop teasing, I haven’t seen you in like a month.” The woman whined. “I know, ‘m sorry. Just so happy to have you back, I wanna appreciate you.” Billie breathed out as she began sliding Y/N’s panties down her legs.

Billie spread Y/N’s legs slowly. “You’re so wet already.” She observed, sliding her finger against the girl’s slit teasingly. Her hips bucked at the sudden touch. “I can’t help it.” She pouted. “Oh I know, baby.” Billie hummed, sliding a finger into her partner slowly. She bit her lip, almost moaning at the way Y/N’s lips parted in a soft breath of pleasure. Billie kept her mouth busy, kissing her girlfriend’s thighs as she eased a second finger into her dripping heat. “Oh my god-“ Y/N gasped, brows creasing as she moaned a little louder. Billie ducked down, flicking out her tongue to tease Y/N’s clit. The singer closed her eyes, happily listening to the sounds escaping Y/N’s mouth.

When she got close, Billie withdrew. She giggled at her girlfriend’s pout and pathetic panting. “Just hold on, baby.” Billie soothed as she pushed down her shorts and boxers. Y/N almost gasped at the sight of the strap Billie was wearing. “Holy shit. Will that-“ she began. “It’ll fit, honey.” Billie stated confidently, trying to slide a layer of reassurance on her tone. Billie brought her partner into needy kisses, not yet filling her the way she wanted. “Billie, I want your cock.” Y/N whispered, knowing exactly what to say to get what she wanted. Billie gasped at her girlfriend’s whisper. She kept Y/N pinned to the couch, hand sliding between them so she could line up the strap. Y/N gripped onto the shorter girl’s shoulders, preparing herself for the initial stretch.

Both women were panting messed as Billie got to work. Each thrust made Y/N whimper and Billie moan. “Good job, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me.” Billie cooed as she pushed her fingers through Y/N’s hair. Their kisses became quick and needy, something to cover up the sounds they couldn’t stop themselves from making. Billie’s hand moved under the other woman’s knee, lifting the her leg so she could fuck the strap deeper into her pussy.

With each thrust becoming deeper and stronger, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from a particularly loud moan escaping her lips. Billie would have to pay the tour bus driver extra. Poor guy.

Billie hated to admit it, but she didn’t know if she could keep up. Her thrusts were becoming sloppy. She usually had more stamina than this but after a concert, it was hard to remain dominant and rough for such long periods of time. Y/N noticed Billie’s fatigue and cupped the dark haired girl’s face in her palms. “Let me ride you, Bils.” She whispered. Billie nodded dumbly, a shiver rolled down her spine as she pulled out.

Y/N straddled Billie’s lap, grabbing the strap and lining it up to her drooling cunt. “Look at me.” She whispered. Billie’s attention was instantly grabbed, her eyes locking with her partner’s. Billie bit her lip, watching as her lover slid down onto the strap. Y/N’s moans were shameless as she began riding. Billie couldn’t help herself, grabbing and squeezing the woman’s tits as she bounced on the strap. “Oh fuck- ‘m gonna cum!” Y/N gasped, nails digging into the shorter woman’s shoulders as she bounced up and down. “Good girl, baby. Cum for me- fuck- cum on my dick, baby.” Billie panted, able to steady her shaky hands enough to grab her partner’s hips and slam her up and down on the fake cock.

Y/N’s head fell forward, face buried in the crook of Billie’s neck. She was a whining, whimpering mess as her entire body shivered with pleasure. She murmured something, words slurred and quiet. Billie rubbed her hands soothingly up and down her girl’s sides. “What was that, baby?” She whispered. “Love you, Bils.” Billie smiled at the soft, shaky tone. “Love you too, babygirl.”

.~*_______________________________________*~.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #fanfic #billie eilish smut #afab!reader #wlw

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sad-girl-hours23 · 2 months ago

Text

This Is Not a Temporary Love

For @bucktommyfluffebruary Day 1: Non-sexual Intimacy

Tommy trails calloused fingertips across Evan’s skin, followed by feather light kisses, mapping the landmarks of ink and scar tissue.

Evan runs a hand through Tommy’s curls. “What are you doing?”

“Exploring,” Tommy says between kisses. “Admiring the artwork. Committing you to memory.”

Evan hums and his eyes flutter shut as Tommy ends his journey at Evan’s birthmark, peppering kisses along his brow.

∗∗∗

A few nights later, Evan turns the tables of affection on him. Under Evan’s steady gaze, Tommy feels as if he’s been put under a microscope. His skin heats from Evan’s careful touches and the thought of being on display.

“What are you doing?”

Evan smirks, a playful shine reflected in his eyes. “Admiring the artwork.”

“What artwork?”

Evan smiles as he traces invisible lines across Tommy’s skin. He takes Tommy’s words for the joke they are, not the self-deprecating dig they might have once been.

“Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

“Thought about it, yeah.”

“But…you haven’t wanted anything enough to make it permanent?”

Tommy hesitates. “Are we still talking about tattoos?”

Evan laughs. “I promise it’s not a leading question.”

Tommy looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t like needles.” When he looks at Evan, there’s a soft smile on his face.

“Hey, thank you for sharing that with me.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Evan—still tracing the contours of Tommy’s body—asks, “what would you get if you could?”

∗∗∗

A week later, Tommy shows up at Evan’s loft with takeout for their date night in.

He also gives Evan several packs of tattoo markers and blanket permission to use his skin as his personal canvas.

Evan’s face lights up like Tommy has given him the directions to the Lost City of Atlantis.

Between bites of Lo mein, Evan draws a fortune cookie on Tommy’s shoulder.

“What’s my fortune?”

Evan looks into his eyes and says, “you have a love that will last a lifetime.”

Tommy admires the way the words fall so effortlessly from Evan’s lips. It’s not casual or flippant, but confident and sure—like he’s practiced the thought so many times, mouthing the words until his tongue memorized the shape of them.

Tommy kisses Evan, pouring all the words he doesn’t know how to express into Evan’s open, eager mouth. When they part, Tommy swipes his thumb over the sweet and sour sauce lingering on Evan’s lips.

“Lucky me.”

∗∗∗

After that night, Evan takes every opportunity to mark Tommy’s skin.

And it’s never mindless scribbling. It’s always deliberate, if not reverent, the way Evan moves the markers over his skin. It makes Tommy feel appreciated in a way he hadn’t expected.

When they’re watching movies together on the couch, Tommy’s feet in Evan’s lap, Evan keeps himself busy drawing comic book characters on his legs and thighs.

At the bar, surrounded by their friends and family, who watch with various expressions of confusion and amusement as Evan adds a rainbow of colors to Tommy’s skin. Maddie fondly compares it to giving Jee crayons at a restaurant to keep her entertained. Evan blushes and Tommy laughs, even if the observation misses the mark. Tommy actually likes having a language that only they understand and he thinks Evan feels the same.

In the kitchen, while waiting for dinner to be done, Evan sits him down at the island and asks him about his day, hanging onto every word Tommy says as he inks a new animal onto a different part of Tommy’s arm. First, it’s a penguin. Then a swan, a puffin, a crow.

Evan asks him one night, “do you know what they have in common?”

Tommy looks at the black bird on his bicep. “They all have wings?”

Evan gives him a look that says Tommy’s being deliberately obtuse. He’s listened to enough of Evan’s animal facts to know they’re all animals that mate for life.

Evan draws a wolf on Tommy’s forearm next, a challenging look in his eyes.

In between grueling shifts and the exhausting work of moving in together, Evan continues his artwork.

∗∗∗

Evan holds Tommy’s hand, even though he knows it can’t be comfortable given how cold and clammy it is.

“You don’t have to do this,” Evan says. “We can buy tattoo markers. I can draw on you again if you want.”

Tommy winces at the sound of the tattoo machine coming from the back room of the shop, but he’s determined to see it through. “No, I want this. When I have to take off my wedding ring for work, it always feels like I’m missing a part of me.”

Evan ducks his head and blushes. “If you’re sure.”

Tommy squeezes his hand. “I’m sure.”

Also on AO3

My Fluffebruary works collected here

#bucktommy fluffebruary #bucktommy fic #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #sad-girl-hours23 does fluffebruary

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bluelavendre · 13 days ago

Text

"I'll always come back to u"

Idol Yoongi x reader

2012

You and Yoongi had been dating for a few years, ever since high school back in Daegu. Your relationship had turned long-distance when he left for Seoul to pursue his passion for music production. You always supported his dreams, cheering him on whenever he felt like the world was against him.

One evening, during a late-night phone call, you could hear the frustration weighing down his voice.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Yoongi admitted, sounding defeated. “Is this path even meant for me?”

Your heart ached hearing him like that, but you knew how much music meant to him. Taking a deep breath, you replied gently, “Gi-ah, I know the path you’re choosing is hard, but if you really love what you’re doing, have a little faith. Sometimes it takes a long process to get where you want to be, but I promise you, it’ll be worth it in the future. I believe in you, Yoongi.”

On the other end of the line, Yoongi felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. You were his comfort person—the one he wanted to come home to at the end of the day. No matter how tough things got, your words always made him feel better.

At that time, Yoongi was working as a producer at BigHit, a small company just starting to make its mark. He had been writing songs for various K-pop groups, but nothing ever seemed to match the success of artists from bigger companies. Doubt often crept into his mind, but your unwavering support kept him grounded.

One day, something unexpected happened. BigHit offered him a contract—not just as a producer, but as an idol trainee alongside six other guys: Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. At first, he was hesitant, unsure if this new path was meant for him. Then he remembered your words:

“Grab opportunities.”

With that thought in mind, he signed the contract, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—because he knew you’d be right there supporting him, no matter what.

A few months after Yoongi signed the contract, you received some life-changing news of your own—you had been accepted into a college in Seoul. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, a step closer to becoming a professor one day. Your hands trembled with excitement as you dialed Yoongi’s number, unable to contain your joy.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up, sounding a bit breathless. “Hey, babe. What’s up?”

“You won’t believe it!” you squealed. “I got accepted into college in Seoul!”

There was a beat of silence, and then Yoongi let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Are you serious? That’s amazing! I knew you could do it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes from how proud he sounded. “Thank you, Yoongi. I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

He chuckled warmly. “You’re gonna be the smartest professor one day. I’m so proud of you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. “I’m proud of you too. I heard you’ve been working nonstop. Make sure you take care of yourself, okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone softening. “I’ll make sure to rest. You’re gonna be in Seoul soon… I can’t wait to see you.”

Even after you moved to Seoul, the two of you continued to respect each other’s time and space. Both of you were working hard toward your dreams—Yoongi training tirelessly with his group and you diving into your college life. Yet, even in the same city, meeting up wasn’t always easy.

But Yoongi always found a way. One evening, after his long and exhausting practice, he showed up at your apartment, still in his training clothes, hair slightly messy and eyes tired but bright with affection.

You opened the door, surprised. “Yoongi?”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “Hey. Missed you.”

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You melted into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat pounding against yours.

“You should be resting,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m resting now,” he whispered, holding you even tighter. “Being with you is the best rest I can get.”

You chuckled softly, guiding him inside and making him sit on the couch. “Wait here. I’ll get you something to drink.”

As you prepared tea in the small kitchen, he leaned against the counter, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You know, I still can’t believe I get to see you in person now,” he said.

You smiled over your shoulder. “Neither can I. Feels surreal sometimes.”

He smirked. “It’s funny… I keep thinking about how I want to hold your hand every chance I get. And how I just want to hear your voice, even if it’s just you complaining about school.”

You laughed, setting the tea down on the table. “You’re so cheesy today.”

He shrugged, pulling you down to sit beside him. “You make me like this. Can’t help it.”

He took your hand, intertwining your fingers, and rested his head on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you sipped tea together, sharing quiet moments of peace.

Even after his debut with BTS, Yoongi made it a habit to visit you whenever he had free time—sometimes surprising you after practice, other times just showing up when he missed you too much. No matter how hectic his schedule got, he never stopped making time for you.

One night, after another successful concert, he knocked on your door, a tired smile on his face. You let him in, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against yours.

“You did amazing today,” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

Yoongi grinned. “You saw?”

You nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He kissed your forehead softly. “I’m glad you’re here. You always make me feel like I’m home.”

2016

Years passed, and life kept moving forward. BTS slowly but steadily climbed their way up the charts, gaining recognition and building a loyal fanbase. Their hard work and passion were finally paying off, and Yoongi couldn’t have been prouder of how far they’d come.

Meanwhile, you were thriving in your own journey. Four years of hard work, sleepless nights, and countless exams had earned you the prestigious title of Dean’s Lister every year. Your dedication to your studies never wavered, even when juggling part-time jobs to support yourself. Whenever you received your academic awards, Yoongi was always the first person you called, his proud voice making you feel like all your efforts were worth it.

“I knew you’d do it,” he would say with a wide smile through the phone. “You never fail to amaze me.”

“And I knew you’d make it big,” you’d reply, hearing the excitement in his voice every time BTS achieved a new milestone.

As BTS’s fame grew, so did Yoongi’s income. He never hesitated to spend a portion of it on you, despite your protests. From cute stuffed animals to expensive accessories, he’d often surprise you with gifts, each one reminding you of him when he was away.

One evening, a package arrived at your apartment, and you nearly choked when you saw the designer label on the box. Inside was a beautiful bracelet—simple yet elegant, with tiny musical note charms. You quickly dialed his number, knowing he’d just finished practice.

When he picked up, you couldn’t hold back. “Yoongi! Did you seriously buy me this? This must have cost a fortune!”

He chuckled softly. “You like it?”

“Of course I do, but you didn’t have to spend so much!”

“You work hard, and you deserve nice things,” he replied, his tone gentle but firm. “And it’s not like I can take you on proper dates right now. Let me spoil you a little, okay?”

Despite your hesitations, you couldn’t help but smile, twirling the bracelet around your wrist. “You’re too much sometimes.”

“I know,” he teased. “But you love me for it.”

Little did you know, Yoongi’s generosity hadn’t gone unnoticed. One day, his manager called him into the office, his expression serious. As Yoongi sat down, he could sense something was off.

“We need to talk about your relationship,” his manager said, his tone professional but firm.

Yoongi tensed, a slight frown appearing on his face. “What about it?”

The manager sighed. “We’ve noticed you’ve been spending quite a bit on your girlfriend. Fans are becoming more curious, and it’s starting to draw attention. The company thinks it might be best if you... end things with her.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “What? Why?”

“BTS is just starting to gain momentum, and any hint of a relationship could ruin our image. You know how the industry works. We can’t afford a scandal right now.”

Yoongi felt his heart drop, anger and frustration welling up inside him. He knew the reality of the industry, but the thought of losing you—of being forced to break up with you—made his chest tighten painfully.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and unwavering. “I’m not breaking up with her.”

The manager looked at him with a mixture of surprise and disapproval. “Yoongi—”

“I’ve worked too hard to give up on my dreams, and I’m not giving up on her either,” Yoongi interrupted, his tone firm. “She’s been with me since the beginning. She supported me when no one else did. I’m not letting go of the one person who believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself.”

His manager sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just... be careful. Don’t let it become a distraction. And try to keep it low-key.”

Yoongi nodded, his jaw still tense. “I understand.”

That night, he called you, trying to sound as normal as possible, but you could sense something was wrong.

“Yoongi? Are you okay?” you asked softly.

There was a long pause before he replied, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “Yeah... I just needed to hear your voice.”

You smiled gently. “You’re working too hard again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, a hint of a smile in his voice. “But it’s worth it.”

The pressure from the company never eased up. Even though Yoongi kept standing his ground, it became harder to ignore the tension building up around him. Managers constantly warned him to be more discreet, and some staff members avoided bringing up his personal life altogether. He knew they were just trying to protect the group’s image, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

One morning, Yoongi woke up to his phone buzzing nonstop. Notifications flooded his screen—messages from his members, his manager, and dozens of missed calls. Confused, he rubbed his eyes and opened one of the messages from Namjoon.

Namjoon [6:23 AM]: Hyung, don’t look at Twitter. Stay off social media. Call me when you wake up.

His heart dropped, and despite Namjoon’s warning, he couldn’t resist checking. As soon as he opened the app, he saw his name trending along with phrases like “Yoongi’s Secret Girlfriend” and “BTS Scandal.” Clicking on the hashtag, his blood ran cold as he saw pictures of you—leaving your apartment, wearing the bracelet he bought you, even some blurry photos of him entering your place late at night. The media had found out.

Panic set in as he dialed your number, his hands trembling. You picked up almost immediately, your voice shaky.

“Yoongi?”

“Baby,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “Are you okay? Did anyone—”

You took a deep breath. “There are people outside my apartment. Reporters. And some... fans.”

Yoongi cursed under his breath. “Don’t go outside. Lock your doors and windows. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Yoongi, no,” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “You can’t come here. It’ll just make things worse.”

He bit his lip, fighting back the helplessness washing over him. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this.”

Just then, there was a loud bang on your door, followed by muffled shouts from outside. Your breath hitched. “They’re getting louder... I’m scared.”

Something in him snapped. “I’m coming. Just stay put, okay? I’ll handle it.”

Before he could hang up, you stopped him. “Yoongi, wait!”

He paused, his heart pounding. “What is it?”

You hesitated, choking on your words. “Maybe... maybe we should listen to them.”

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained.

Your eyes filled with tears as you forced the words out. “Maybe we should break up.”

Silence.

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, and he shook his head as if you could see him. “No. I’m not losing you because of this. We can figure it out—”

“Yoongi,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Look at what’s happening. Your career... everything you’ve worked so hard for... it’s falling apart because of me.”

“That’s not true!” he snapped, frustration and fear mixing in his tone. “You’ve done nothing wrong. They’re just being irrational. I won’t let them take you away from me.”

A sob escaped your lips, and you wiped your tears, trying to be strong. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose everything. You’ve worked so hard to get here. I can’t be the one who ruins it.”

He was silent for a moment, breathing heavily as he tried to process your words. “I don’t care about any of that,” he finally whispered. “You’re more important to me.”

You smiled bitterly, your heart breaking. “But it’s not just about you and me anymore. It’s about BTS too... and I know you love them. I know how much you’ve sacrificed for this dream. I can’t let you throw it away because of me.”

Yoongi gritted his teeth, fighting back tears. “So what are you saying? You want me to just... let you go?”

You hesitated before whispering, “It’s for the best.”

He didn’t respond right away, his mind racing as he tried to find a way to convince you otherwise. But deep down, he knew you were right. The backlash wouldn’t stop, and the hate directed at you was something he couldn’t bear.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he finally spoke, his voice trembling. “Fine... but promise me something.”

“What is it?”

He swallowed hard, his heart aching as he forced himself to say the words. “Wait for me. No matter how long it takes, I’ll always come back to you. Just... wait for me.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I will. I’ll wait for you, Yoongi.”

Neither of you spoke for a while, both lost in the pain of goodbye. Finally, he whispered one last thing before hanging up.

“I love you.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving you alone with the ache in your chest and the shattered pieces of your heart.

A Few Weeks Later

Since the public found out about your relationship and Yoongi had to deny it, the two of you kept your distance, just as you both agreed. You changed your phone number and deactivated your social media accounts to avoid the relentless hate and messages from fans. It hurt, but you knew it was necessary.

Yoongi did his best to focus on work, throwing himself into producing and writing, but his heart wasn’t in it. The members noticed the change in him—how he seemed quieter and more distant, his eyes constantly tired and empty. One evening after practice, while sitting on the floor of the dance studio, Namjoon finally spoke up.

“Hyung, are you okay?” he asked gently, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Yoongi didn’t respond right away, staring blankly at the floor. The other members exchanged glances, worried.

Jin cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately. Are you eating properly?”

Yoongi forced a small smile. “Yeah. Just... tired.”

Hoseok scooted closer and gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on, hyung. You know you can talk to us.”

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi hesitated before finally admitting, “It’s harder than I thought.”

“What is?” Jungkook asked, tilting his head curiously.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, trying to keep his emotions in check. “Pretending like it doesn’t hurt. Denying the one person who’s been by my side since the beginning... it feels like I betrayed her.”

The room fell silent, and Jimin lowered his gaze, understanding the pain Yoongi was feeling. Taehyung reached out and patted Yoongi’s shoulder gently.

“I’m sure she knows you did it to protect her,” Taehyung said softly.

Yoongi let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not even sure of that myself. I keep replaying her voice in my head... how she tried so hard to be strong while breaking up with me. I thought keeping our distance would make it easier, but it just hurts more.”

Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hyung... I know how much she means to you. But you made the choice to protect her from the hate. It’s not your fault.”

Yoongi shook his head, his hands trembling. “I feel like a coward. I promised her I’d always come back... but what if she stops waiting?”

Jungkook bit his lip, hesitant to speak but feeling compelled to comfort him. “If she loves you as much as you love her, she’ll wait, hyung. Love like that doesn’t just disappear.”

Jin nodded in agreement. “We know you’re hurting, and I’m sure she is too. But this will get easier with time. You just have to keep pushing forward.”

Hoseok forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus, we’re here, too. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Yoongi looked around at his members—his brothers—grateful for their support. Even if the pain didn’t go away, knowing they were there made it a little easier to bear.

The days continued to pass, and Yoongi kept his promise to focus on BTS. He poured his heart into writing lyrics, his songs often reflecting the ache and longing he kept bottled up. Late at night, when everyone else was asleep, he’d sit by the window, phone in hand, staring at your contact name on his screen.

He wanted to call you—just to hear your voice or know if you were okay—but he held back, respecting the distance you both agreed on. Still, he couldn’t help but write texts he’d never send:

“Did you eat today?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to protect you.”

One evening, as BTS sat in the dorm living room watching a music show, one of the rookie groups performed a song that Yoongi had helped produce. The familiar melody made his chest tighten, and he couldn’t help but think of how proud you’d be if you heard it.

Jimin noticed Yoongi’s faraway look and nudged him. “Hyung, your song is doing well. You should be proud.”

Yoongi forced a nod, but his mind was elsewhere. “Yeah... it’s doing well.”

Namjoon glanced at him knowingly and spoke up. “You’re not planning to give up on her, right?”

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with determination. “No. I meant it when I said I’d come back to her. I just... need to get through this storm first.”

Taehyung grinned softly, his boxy smile comforting. “Then keep that promise. She’ll be waiting.”

Jungkook chimed in, trying to sound hopeful. “And when you’re both ready, it’ll be worth it, right?”

Yoongi gave a faint smile. “Yeah... it will be.”

As the night dragged on, Yoongi found himself back at his writing desk, scribbling down lyrics that spoke of longing, loss, and the unwavering hope of returning to the person he loved. His heart ached, but he knew that someday, when the chaos settled and his dreams became reality, he would come back to you—just like he promised.

And until that day came, he would keep working hard, knowing that somewhere out there, you were holding on to that promise too.

Four Years Later

Time flew by faster than you could have imagined. The pain of letting Yoongi go never truly disappeared, but you had learned to live with it. You threw yourself into your studies, determined to make something of yourself despite the heartbreak.

Graduating at the top of your class, you earned your degree with honors, and it was the proudest moment of your life. You remembered how Yoongi used to tell you how smart and hardworking you were, and a small smile crept onto your face as you accepted your diploma. You wished he could see you now—see how far you’d come.

After graduation, you didn’t stop there. You pursued your master's degree, specializing in educational leadership and curriculum development. You spent countless sleepless nights buried in research papers, lesson plans, and academic journals. Your passion for teaching burned brighter than ever, and the dream of becoming a professor stayed alive in your heart.

During your master's program, you took up a part-time teaching position at a local university in Seoul. It was nerve-wracking at first—standing in front of a class full of eager minds, trying to inspire them the way your own mentors once inspired you. But with each lesson, your confidence grew. Your students admired your dedication and passion, and seeing them learn gave you a sense of purpose.

One evening after class, your colleague Mina approached you.

"You did great today, Y/N. The students love your teaching style," she said with a warm smile.

You chuckled softly, rubbing your neck. "Thanks, Mina. I still get nervous sometimes."

"You’d never know," Mina replied. "By the way, have you thought about applying for that international teaching program? I heard they’re looking for innovative educators, and you’d be perfect for it."

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued. "International teaching? Where?"

"The United States. They’re offering positions for professors who specialize in modern teaching strategies and curriculum development. Plus, it’s an incredible opportunity for growth and exposure."

The idea stirred something in you—ambition, curiosity, and a desire to prove yourself on a global scale. Could you really do it? Could you leave Seoul and pursue your dreams halfway across the world?

That night, you stayed up researching the program. You read testimonials from previous applicants and saw how their careers flourished after being accepted. It was an intimidating thought—leaving behind the familiarity of your city and starting fresh in a new country—but something about it felt right.

Finally, with a deep breath, you submitted your application, pouring your heart into your cover letter and highlighting your dedication to education. You didn’t expect much—competition was fierce, and the thought of being chosen felt almost impossible.

But fate had a way of surprising you.

A few months later, you received an email from the international program. Your hands shook as you opened it, scanning the words with bated breath.

"Dear Ms. Y/N,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for the International Teaching Fellowship has been approved. Congratulations on being selected as one of our newest professors! Please review the attached documents for further details and next steps."

Your jaw dropped as you reread the message over and over. Tears filled your eyes as the reality set in—you did it. You had achieved your dream of becoming an international professor.

You immediately called Mina, who squealed with excitement on the other end. "I knew you could do it! This is huge, Y/N! You’re going to be amazing!"

Packing your life into a few suitcases wasn’t easy, but you knew this was your chance to grow. Before leaving, you visited your favorite spots in Seoul one last time—the cozy coffee shop where you used to study, the park where you’d stroll to clear your mind, and even the little restaurant where you and Yoongi would share meals on his rare free days.

Memories flooded your mind, but you pushed them away, focusing on the bright future ahead.

"Goodbye, Seoul," you whispered as you boarded the plane, determination sparking in your eyes.

The transition wasn’t easy. You struggled to adapt to the culture, the food, and even the accents. Some nights were lonely, and you found yourself scrolling through old photos and reading the letters you wrote to yourself for motivation.

But slowly, you adjusted. Your students were bright and curious, eager to learn from your experiences and methods. You found yourself immersed in academic conferences, workshops, and mentoring programs. Your innovative approach to curriculum development earned you respect among your colleagues, and soon enough, you were invited to give lectures at different universities.

One evening after a successful seminar, you sat in your office grading papers when your phone buzzed with a notification. Curious, you checked it and saw an article headline:

"BTS Makes History as the First Korean Group to Sell Out Multiple Stadium Tours Worldwide!"

Your heart clenched at the sight of Yoongi’s face on the thumbnail, his gaze as intense as ever. He looked different—more mature, confident, and a bit more worn out. Pride swelled in your chest despite the pang of sadness that followed.

"You did it," you whispered, running your fingers over his photo on the screen. "I knew you would."

You turned off your phone and leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling. The thought of him still lingered in your mind, but you reminded yourself that you both had dreams to chase. You had come this far, and there was no turning back now.

One night after class, as you were tidying up your materials, one of your students approached you.

"Professor Y/N, your lecture today was really inspiring," she said with a bright smile. "You always talk about chasing dreams no matter how hard it gets. Have you ever done that yourself?"

You hesitated, memories of your journey flashing through your mind. A soft smile graced your lips. "Yes. I have. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done... but it was worth it."

The student beamed. "I hope I can be as brave as you someday."

You nodded, your heart warm with pride. "You already are. Just keep pushing forward."

As you walked back to your empty apartment that night, you couldn’t help but wonder if Yoongi ever thought of you—if he remembered the promise he made. Maybe someday your paths would cross again. Until then, you’d keep building your future, one dream at a time.

A Year After Your Departure

Yoongi found himself stuck in a never-ending cycle of rehearsals, recordings, and interviews. BTS’s fame had skyrocketed beyond imagination, and he was grateful—truly grateful. Yet, despite the worldwide success and the overwhelming love from fans, he felt emptier than ever.

He tried his best to focus on producing songs and writing lyrics, but every melody seemed to remind him of you—your laughter, your encouragement, your unwavering support during his most vulnerable moments. The studio, once his safe haven, now felt suffocating, filled with memories of late-night phone calls and words of comfort you used to offer.

He couldn’t help but wonder where you were, how you were doing, and if you had moved on. He hated himself for letting you go, for denying what you two had, and for pretending that he didn’t care.

One evening after a long practice session, Yoongi sat on the studio couch, his head resting against the wall as he fiddled with his phone. Absentmindedly, he scrolled through social media, searching for any trace of you. He had tried countless times before, typing your name into search engines and browsing through mutual friends’ profiles, but he always came up empty-handed.

"Yoongi-hyung," Jungkook called out as he poked his head into the studio. "You okay? You’ve been in here for hours."

Yoongi let out a tired sigh. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... trying to find someone."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and stepped inside, curiosity evident on his face. "Someone? Who?"

Yoongi hesitated, not wanting to open old wounds, but he couldn’t deny the ache in his chest. "Y/N. I just... I don’t know where she went. She’s not in Seoul anymore."

Jungkook’s expression softened. "You really miss her, huh?"

Yoongi didn’t answer, just clenched his phone tighter.

Jungkook smiled gently. "If it’s meant to be, you’ll find her again. Just trust that."

Just then, the door burst open, and Jimin came rushing in, nearly tripping over his own feet. His phone was clutched tightly in his hand, and his face was flushed with excitement.

"Hyung!" he practically shouted. "You’re not going to believe this!"

Yoongi and Jungkook exchanged confused glances. "What’s with you?" Yoongi grumbled, though he couldn’t hide his curiosity.

Jimin shoved his phone in Yoongi’s face, pointing at the screen. "Look! Look at this post!"

Yoongi squinted at the screen and saw an Instagram post from Jimin’s younger brother, Park Jaehyun. The caption read:

"Huge thanks to Professor Y/N for guiding us through this tough semester! We learned so much from you. Your passion for teaching inspires us every day. #Grateful #BestProfessorEver"

Beneath the caption was a photo of you standing at the front of a classroom, wearing a crisp blouse and slacks, a bright, encouraging smile on your face. You looked more mature, more confident—like you had truly become the person you always wanted to be.

Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at the screen, his fingers trembling. "That’s... her," he whispered.

Jimin grinned. "Jaehyun texted me earlier about how he loves his new professor. When he showed me the post, I couldn’t believe it. Hyung, Y/N is teaching at a university in the States!"

Yoongi swallowed hard, his mind reeling. "She... went to America?"

Jimin nodded. "Apparently. Jaehyun said she’s one of the most sought-after professors there. She’s been hosting international seminars and lectures too."

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a mix of pride and regret. You had made it—chasing your dreams just as you promised. While he had been drowning in guilt and loneliness, you had been thriving on the other side of the world.

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, his expression softening. "Hyung, maybe this is your chance. If you miss her that much, reach out. Let her know you’re proud of her."

Yoongi hesitated, his mind spinning with possibilities. Would you even want to hear from him after all these years? Would you still think of him the way he thought of you?

"What are you gonna do?" Jimin asked cautiously, sensing Yoongi’s turmoil.

Yoongi took a deep breath and lowered his gaze. "I don’t know. I want to see her. I need to talk to her. But... I don’t know if she’d even want that."

Jimin smiled softly, patting his shoulder. "One way to find out. You always said you’d come back to her, right? Maybe now’s the time."

Yoongi knew he was right. He had made a promise to you once—a promise to always come back. Maybe it was time to fulfill that promise.

Late that night, while the other members were asleep, Yoongi sat at his desk, staring at your picture on Jimin’s phone. His heart thumped in his chest, and he gathered his courage to send a message to Jaehyun, asking for your contact information. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but he couldn’t let this chance slip away.

For the first time in years, he felt a spark of hope. Maybe—just maybe—he could find his way back to you.

Yoongi’s mind was spinning with thoughts of you. After finding out where you were, he couldn’t help but feel restless. The thought of finally seeing you after so many years brought a sense of excitement, but it also made his stomach churn with anxiety. Would you still want to see him? Would you even want to talk to him after all that happened?

That night, Yoongi lay on his bed, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. Sleep refused to come as memories of you filled his mind—your laughter, your encouraging words, the way you used to tell him to keep going no matter what. He missed you more than he could ever put into words.

The next morning, without telling the other members, he squeezed in some free time in his schedule and booked a flight to the States. He knew it was reckless, but he didn’t care. He needed to see you, to hear your voice, even if it was just from a distance.

He was on his way to the airport when Jimin appeared out of nowhere, pulling his suitcase behind him. Yoongi stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, his tone harsher than intended.

Jimin grinned, completely unfazed. "You didn’t think you’d go alone, did you? I’m coming too. Besides, I want to see my brother. It’s been a while."

Yoongi opened his mouth to argue, but he knew it was pointless. Jimin could be annoyingly persistent when he wanted to be.

"Fine," Yoongi mumbled, pulling his cap down to hide his face. "Just... don’t make a fuss."

Jimin snorted. "Like I would. Besides, it’s not every day I get to see you all worked up over a girl. It’s cute."

Yoongi shot him a glare, but Jimin just laughed, following him through the check-in and boarding process.

The flight was long and filled with silence, save for the occasional hum of the airplane engine. Jimin sat next to Yoongi, occasionally glancing at his friend’s tense posture.

"You nervous?" Jimin asked softly.

Yoongi didn’t answer right away. He stared out the window, watching the clouds drift by.

"Yeah," he finally admitted. "I don’t know what I’ll do if... she doesn’t want to see me."

Jimin smiled gently, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You’ll be fine, hyung. She’s not the type to hold grudges. She loved you. I’m sure she still does."

Yoongi didn’t respond, but he hoped Jimin was right.

After landing in California, the two made their way to a small hotel near the university where Jaehyun had mentioned your upcoming seminar would be held. As they checked in, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his hands trembling.

Jimin noticed and nudged him. "Hey, relax. It’s gonna be okay."

Yoongi just nodded, but the knot in his stomach wouldn’t go away.

Later that evening, Jimin video-called his brother, and Jaehyun picked up almost immediately, his face lighting up with surprise.

"Hyung? You’re here?!" Jaehyun exclaimed, clearly not expecting a call from his older brother.

"Yeah," Jimin replied with a grin. "I’m here with Yoongi-hyung. We just arrived."

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. "With... Yoongi-hyung? Wait, why—"

"Long story," Jimin cut in, giving his brother a look. "Where’s the seminar happening?"

Jaehyun thought for a moment before replying, "It’s at Stanford University tomorrow morning. Professor Y/N is giving a guest lecture in the humanities department. It’s a pretty big deal. She’s been doing seminars all over the States."

Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name. You really had made it big, just as he always knew you would.

"Got it," Jimin said with a nod. "We’ll head there tomorrow. Don’t tell anyone, okay?"

Jaehyun grinned. "I won’t. Good luck, hyung. I’m rooting for you."

After hanging up, Yoongi leaned back against the wall, letting out a shaky breath.

"She really made it," he whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Jimin patted his shoulder. "She did. And you’re here now, hyung. Go get her back."

That night, Yoongi barely slept. His mind kept replaying the moment he would see you again—how your eyes might widen in shock or how you might even turn away, hurt and betrayed. He didn’t know if he was ready for the worst, but he had to try.

The next morning, Yoongi and Jimin dressed inconspicuously and made their way to Stanford. The campus was bustling with students, and the two idols did their best to stay low-key, despite a few curious glances.

They eventually found the humanities building, where a large poster announced your seminar titled "The Power of Education: Cultivating Future Leaders." Yoongi’s lips curved into a small smile. It sounded just like you—passionate and driven.

As they approached the lecture hall, they noticed a long line of students waiting to get in. Yoongi’s heart pounded harder with each step, and Jimin gave him an encouraging nod.

"Let’s sneak in from the back," Jimin suggested, guiding Yoongi around to a side entrance.

They slipped into the hall, taking seats near the back where they wouldn’t be easily noticed. The room was filled to the brim with eager students, their excitement buzzing in the air.

When you finally walked onto the stage, Yoongi’s breath hitched. You looked so confident—composed and radiant, wearing a sleek blazer and professional attire. Your hair was styled neatly, and your expression was both serious and approachable. The way you greeted the students with a warm smile made Yoongi’s heart ache with longing.

"Good morning, everyone," you greeted. "Thank you for coming to today’s seminar. I’m honored to share my insights and experiences with you all."

Yoongi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He hadn’t seen you in years, but his feelings hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, they’d only grown stronger.

Jimin nudged him gently. "Hyung... she’s amazing."

Yoongi just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. As you began your presentation, confidently discussing educational philosophies and the importance of nurturing young minds, he couldn’t help but admire how far you had come.

He could see it now—how you had blossomed into the person you had always wanted to be. And it hurt that he hadn’t been there to witness your journey.

When the seminar concluded and students approached you with questions, Yoongi hesitated, unsure whether to approach or wait. Jimin gave him a gentle push.

"Go," he urged. "Now’s your chance."

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi mustered the courage to stand up and make his way through the crowd. As he approached the stage, you finally noticed him, and your eyes widened in shock.

The room seemed to fall silent as you stared at him, your expression a mix of disbelief and something unspoken—maybe longing, maybe pain.

"Y/N," Yoongi whispered, his voice trembling. "I... I’m here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, still frozen in surprise.

"I came back," Yoongi said softly, his gaze unwavering. "I told you I’d always come back to you."

Your breath hitched as your mind struggled to process what was happening. You blinked a few times, trying to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“Y-Yoongi?” you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Yoongi’s lips quirked up into a small, fond smile, his eyes never leaving yours. Seeing him standing there after all these years—looking just as handsome, just as familiar—made your heart pound in your chest. A whirlwind of emotions surged through you: happiness, confusion, shock, and a hint of fear that this might just be a cruel dream.

Yoongi’s hands itched to reach out and pull you into his arms, but he hesitated, not wanting to overwhelm you. Instead, he just looked at you with that soft, tender gaze that you remembered so well—the gaze that once made you feel like you were his whole world.

“It’s really you…” you managed to choke out, covering your mouth as tears brimmed in your eyes.

Before you could stop yourself, you rushed forward and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Yoongi staggered slightly, caught off guard, but then his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth and scent you had missed for so long.

**“You came…” you whispered, your voice muffled against his hoodie.

He let out a shaky breath, his hand gently caressing the back of your head. “Of course, I did,” he murmured. “I couldn’t stay away any longer. I had to see you… I missed you so damn much.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands still gripping his shoulders. “I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” you whispered. “It’s been so long, Yoongi…”

He reached up and gently wiped away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “I know. I’m sorry for making you wait. I just… I had to come back. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’ve been on my mind every day.”

Your lips trembled, a soft laugh escaping as you wiped at your own tears. “You idiot… You really think I stopped thinking about you?”

Yoongi’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I never stopped loving you. I promised I’d come back, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling through your tears. “You did.”

Suddenly, you heard someone clearing their throat, and you both snapped your heads to the side. Jimin was standing there, his phone held up, recording the entire interaction with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hyung, you’re so cheesy,” Jimin teased. “The guys are gonna love this.”

Yoongi shot him a glare. “Yah! Park Jimin, delete that!”

Jimin just giggled and skipped back a few steps. “No way! The guys need to see this. You were about to cry, hyung! I’ve never seen you this soft!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth as Yoongi tried to chase after Jimin, who was already texting the video to the group chat.

“Jimin-ah!” Yoongi hissed, but his annoyance was half-hearted. He glanced back at you, giving you a soft, embarrassed smile, his ears turning red.

Jimin, still grinning, gave a thumbs up. “Yoongi-hyung’s in love!” he sang teasingly. “I’m telling the whole world!”

Yoongi gave up chasing him and just groaned, running a hand through his hair. But when he turned back to you, his expression softened once again.

“Sorry about him,” he muttered. “You know how he is.”

You just smiled, wiping your cheeks. “He hasn’t changed a bit.”

Jimin leaned in and whispered, not so subtly, “Actually, neither of you have. You’re still so in love it’s ridiculous.”

Yoongi shot him a warning look, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile despite himself. He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Can we… talk?” he asked softly. “There’s so much I want to say to you.”

You nodded, your heart racing but your smile never fading. “Yeah… I want that too.”

Jimin patted Yoongi’s shoulder before stepping back. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Just don’t forget to thank me later, hyung. Without me, you wouldn’t have found her.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but gave him a grateful nod. “Thanks, Jimin-ah.”

As Jimin wandered off to give you two some space, Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time all over again, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it, Y/N. You made your dreams come true.”

You bit your lip to keep from crying again. “You too, Yoongi. You became everything you wanted to be. I’m proud of you too.”

He looked down for a moment, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes. “I just wish I hadn’t lost you along the way.”

You reached out and cupped his face gently, making him look at you. “You didn’t lose me,” you said firmly. “You never did. I was always waiting for you.”

Yoongi’s lips quivered, and he leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “Then I’ll never let you go again,” he whispered, his voice full of determination. “Not this time.”

You smiled and leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. The kiss was tender and filled with years of longing, both of you savoring the moment that you’d both been waiting for.

And just around the corner, Jimin snapped a few photos and sent them to the group chat with the caption:

"Mission accomplished. Lovebirds reunited. Yoongi-hyung actually cried!"

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