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minisugakoobies · 8 months ago

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

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bunnis-monsters · 20 days ago

Text

NSFW

A/N: another kofi request!

When you walked for a while through the thick forest near your home, you were able to find a meadow full of deer hybrids.

It was a secret place, one only a few human beings knew about. Among those humans was you, a young woman currently being courted by one of those feet hybrids.

“My dear!”

You felt arms wrap around your torso from behind, your neck being peppered in warm kisses as you were pulled close.

This was your current predicament. A few months ago you spotted a deer hybrid struggling in a trap meant for regular deer. You knew if the hunter found them he’d be taken to the city and sold as a pet, so you quickly used your pocket knife to cut him free.

The second he was out of his bonds, he nearly tackled you, rubbing and butting against your neck and nearly impaling you with his horns.

“Mate… my mate…”

And that’s how you ended up at the meadow again, visiting him. If you didn’t come once a week to see the fluffy thing, he’d try coming out of the woods and into your neighborhood.

Of course, that was dangerous. Between cars, hunters, and lots of people wanting a cute deer hybrid as a pet, the human world wasn’t safe.

You made a deal with him. Every weekend you’d come and spend time with him. The first time you proposed this deal to him, he leapt with joy, his fluffy tail wiggling super fast.

So today you brought your picnic basket, setting out a blanket and preparing the snacks as he waited patiently nearby. Sometimes he could be a bit shy after greeting you, quickly retreating behind other deer hybrids and peaking out at you with his big doe eyes.

The second you were done, he trotted back, letting out a happy whine when you patted your lap. He loved laying his head there.

His ears flicked, and he looked up at you through his lashes, batting them. Clearly, he was a whore for your attention.

You always knew the best spots to scratch and rub, always getting behind his ears and at the base of his antlers.

His tail wagged, and you couldn’t help but lift it slightly too look at his cute butt, making his head jerk up.

“Mate? You want to mate?”

The deer hybrid excitedly nuzzled against you, pushing you down on the blanket. He let out little grunts, his tail still going crazy behind him.

“N-not yet, not yet.”

He pouted, but quickly returned to relaxing in your lap, almost purring at every scratch and pet. You knew rutting season was soon by now antsy he had been to mate with you lately… and you were preparing yourself to help him.

The guy always wanted to be by your side, bringing you fresh berries and honey he collected. You were his mate, and he wanted to give you all the sweet things he could find!

And boy was he possessive! He would let out whines and grunts when other males approached, pointing his antlers at them and holding you close. It was just too cute!

For months you came and went, giving him the attention he needed while getting to relax and escape all the stress life had to give.

Curling up with him, playing with his soft puffy hair and watching him get all giddy and excited really calmed you down. His fluffy tail always wagged when you were around, wagging even harder when you scratched a good spot or gave him snuggles.

But his rut had finally come in full force, and you knew he needed you.

This time when you came to visit, he was alone, whimpering softly and pumping his cock. He seemed distressed, and you were quick to lower yourself by his side, your fingers gently glazing his swollen tip.

“Shh, shh… I’m here. It’ll be okay.”

He looked up at you through his thick lashes, sniffling. It seemed he had grown attached and reliant on you.

“Please…”

How could you say no to those big, warm doe eyes?

The second your fingers wrapped around his cock, he let out a moan, his hips bucking lightly. He needed his release, and your hand wouldn’t cut it soon enough.

He came quicker than expected, and soon he was mounting you.

The entire time he mated with you, he was more gentle than you’d think a buck in rut would be. He was constantly nuzzling into you, thrusting just hard enough to satisfy you, but not any harder.

When he came inside, his ears twitched and tail wagged, and he melted when you reached out to play with his ears while his cum shot into your womb.

After mating you, he was a happy little thing, making a sort of purring sound while he nuzzled his face against your neck.

Perhaps being mates with him wouldn’t be so bad after all…

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

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troublesomesnitch · 5 months ago

Text

Meeting Vhagar - Drabble

Aemond x Wife!Reader

Much to your dismay, Prince Aemond insists on bringing your little son to Vhagar. Set sometime during the Dance.

Contents: Just a little practice thing... Dad!Aemond, Targaryen parenting, subtle fluff. Little bit of subtle angst too. No filth this time..

Words: 3000, and very sloppily proof read.

The carriage can only take you so far as to the Iron Gate.

Beyond its massive doors, the Rosby Road winds North, poorly maintained and full of potholes, as it is the shortest of the main roads, and thus the least important. It is not as busy as others, and the gate is not guarded as well - clearly, as the men who should be protecting it are presently engaged in a game of cards, laid out on top of a large, flat rock.

That is where the driver will wait, but it is not your destination.

There is another little trail. One that runs in the opposite direction, scarcely used and partially hidden, visible only to those who know it. No horse or wagon can make the journey, and there is no option but to walk - first along a narrow, trodden path, and then further still, down treacherous steps, carved into the very rock the city rests upon. Past the watchtower, and across the Northern beach, to the vast caves of Maegor the Cruel, where Vhagar has made her nest.

You walk alone, just the two of you. The prince in his coat and boots, and yourself in attire much less suited for the occasion. Fine shoes, fine skirts, and with your little son cradled in your arms.

The gentle rocking of the carriage has lulled him to sleep. Four months old, he is, and a source of such joy that your poor heart can scarcely contain it. From his first high-pitched cry when you brought him into the world - oh, the pains of labour were all but forgotten, as was the threat of the raging war. And when the prince came to see his son, you could hardly even bear to let him hold him.

He wanted to bring the boy much sooner, but both you and the dowager queen staunchly put your foot down against that. Children should not be brought outside the home until they have at least lived through the first perilous weeks, and possibly even their first fever. And even then, most would argue, they have no business being around ferocious animals.

“I don’t like it,” you say, for the umpteenth time, taking the hand offered to you by the prince to help you cross a treacherous stretch. “It is mad, bringing an infant to such a beast - ”

“Vhagar should know him,” he says, steadfast and determined. As he has done whenever you voiced your concern.

It does nothing at all to calm your nerves. But it is his most compelling argument, and the only reason you have allowed this lunacy in the first place. So the dragon would recognise the boy as his, and as one of her own. So she would know to protect him, if - something should happen.

You make it halfway across the pebbled beach before the prince pauses. And you do too, lifting your gaze to follow his line of sight; see what he is looking at.

An enormous, greyish mass, some yards away, that at first you thought was a moss-grown rock, or years of washed up seaweed. But the mass makes a rumbling noise and begins to shift and lift itself, slowly and carefully, as though with much effort. Part of it becomes a leg, another part unfurls into a great wing, and the rock nearest to you becomes a head, with a mouth full of jagged teeth, and two eyes opening slowly. Amber in colour, and with slitted pupils staring straight at you.

“She can sense me,” the prince declares, with no small amount of pride, lifting his chin and straightening his back.

You, however, are paralysed, utterly shocked by her vastness. You have never seen Vhagar this close before, and though you knew of her impressive size, it is one thing to see her soaring across the sky, and quite another to be right next to her, unprotected and vulnerable.

It seems to you that the span of her wings could cover half the city, that entire buildings could fit in her mouth. And certainly, she could end all three of you with her fiery breath, or with a single swipe of her claw or her massive tail. One wrong move, even if accidental, even if she did not mean to - you would all be dead.

“Come,” the prince says, pushing at the small of your back. But you stall, digging in your heels, frozen in place at the sight of her.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you stammer. “We should go back - it is not safe…”

The prince gives an overbearing, if somewhat irritated sigh.

“Dragons are loyal beasts,” he reassures. “Vhagar is loyal to me, she obeys me - ”

“She is a beast,” you hiss, hugging your drowsy son closer to your chest. “She cannot be trusted. It is too dangerous - I won’t let you bring him any closer - ”

Prince Aemond does not like to be challenged. He turns around to look at you coolly, his voice low and scornful as he speaks.

“Is your opinion of me so unfavourable, wife, that you think I would risk harm to my own son?”

“No,” you respond, quietly, but truthfully. Since you were married, your opinion of the prince has only risen, slowly but surely. And it continues to do so, still - though perhaps not right now. “I don’t like it - ”

“Mhm - so you said,” your husband says dryly, all but wrenching the swaddled boy from your arms.

He does not complain, the boy. Prince Aemond comes to visit often, at least once a day, and sometimes more. He sits with the child, reads to him, lets him fall asleep in his arms - not for very long each time, but it is at least enough for the little boy to recognise his father’s low voice and stern face as something safe and comfortable. As is evident from the way he now settles against the prince’s leather-clad chest, tangling his little fist into a lock of his hair.

The beast remains still, pensive as her rider approaches, her serpent’s eyes fixed on the thing in his arms, on what he is bringing her. Your most precious treasure, your life’s very purpose, completely at the mercy of the greatest dragon in the world.

You might have felt more at ease if the soft, sparse hair on his head had been silver like his father’s, but alas, it is not. It is exactly like yours, and only the bright violet of his eyes gives away his true inheritance.

And that seems like too little a thing for such a large creature to notice.

Prince Aemond calls out in that strange language of his, with the open vowels and the rolling R’s. It is beautiful, especially in his mouth, and the dragon responds at once, contorting herself to let him touch her wrinkled neck with affection. Which is a strange sight, but what is even stranger is the way she grumbles - as though she likes it. He speaks to her as if she was another person, in long, full sentences that are much too complicated for you to even attempt to understand. There is only one word you can make out, for the sole reason that he says it twice - yoreliatzeh, or yorelatzya, or something akin to that. You haven’t a clue as to what it means.

Vhagar snorts once, and the prince steps back to give her room to move, to rise up onto her legs and bring her head closer, her nose almost touching his hip. While you stand at a distance, staring at the utterly bizarre scene playing out in front of you. A fearsome, vicious beast, sniffing the child like a dog would. Gently and carefully, only she is so big that each of her cautious breaths is like a small gust of wind, making your husband’s hair billow about his face. When she makes a grunting noise, he carefully unwraps some of the swaddlings, holding the child up to let her see him better, smell him better.

He is bright, your darling boy, and curious, like all babes and children. His eyes are wide as they take in Vhagar’s scaly form, and he gives a soft squeal of surprise or wonder, kicking his little feet under the blankets. Reaching his arm towards the beast's massive head, her massive teeth -

“Aemond, please - ” you gasp, clutching your hands to your throat.

The prince turns his head to give you a stern look, one that clearly shows he is running out of patience. And maybe this time it is justified, because your fearful outburst startles the boy, who begins to squirm unhappily in his father’s arms. Fussing and whimpering; a sound that is as painful to you as salt to an open wound.

“Bring him to me,” you plead, “can’t you see that he is frightened - ”

“He is frightened because you are frightened,” the prince says, as soft spoken as always, but with a hint of something sharp underneath.

He cradles the boy closer to his chest, bouncing him gently, holding his head and murmuring soothing words. Exactly as you would do, and to the same effect. It calms him down, and his big, round eyes start darting around again, taking in his surroundings. The dragon, the grey sea, the fine silver clasps on his father’s clothes. It does seem that the latter intrigues him the most.

Vhagar lifts her neck and tilts her head just slightly, seemingly very interested in the child, in this tiny little creature; the way he moves his little limbs, and his soft coos and noises. There is an almost… thoughtful look in her eyes, or at the very least a curious one.

It makes you wonder about the extent of her perception. Whether she truly knows that this is Aemond’s child, that it came from him, from his body, his flesh. If she can sense it somehow, through the bond they purportedly share, or if she understood it when he spoke to her.

How intelligent is a dragon? Are they like dogs or horses, able to learn the meaning of certain words, but not the full breadth of language? Or do they think as people, with nuance and emotion, and a mind as vivid as your own.

You do not know. You suppose no one really does.

“Come,” the prince calls, reaching his arm towards you, beckoning you closer. However, a single glance at Vhagar, whose mighty gaze is now focused on you, is enough to inspire disobedience in even the most well-behaved wife.

“I would really rather not - ”

“She must know the both of you,” he insists.

“Is that - necessary?” you squirm, wringing your hands, very much aware that you are not a dragon rider, that you haven’t a drop of Valyrian blood. “Vhagar has no reason to think fondly of me…”

The prince scoffs.

“Are you not the mother of my child?” he says. “Now, come.”

You must go to him. He is your lord husband, and he is a prince, and such is the way of things. But you are not at all glad to, and you walk with shaky, reluctant steps, gripping onto his elbow and cowering behind him like a frightened child.

You close your eyes when the dragon lowers her head once more, bringing it towards you. A sudden, low-pitched growl makes your heart tremble, but the prince speaks a soft command. Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī.

It has a calming effect on you too. As does the arm he keeps outstretched in front of you - solely for your comfort, you assume, as it would make no difference whatsoever, should Vhagar decide that she does not like you. But you appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

The air is warm, this close to her, and your skirts move around your legs when she breathes, slowly and deeply, while the prince speaks to her in soft tones. That word again, the one from before, and many others. You know the words for wife, for king, for father, brother, sister, even for dragon, but he says none of those now, so you have no guess as to what he is telling her. Or if she understands. Or what he would call you, if not his wife.

This woman is my - spouse? lady? lover?

You do have a kind of love for him, and sometimes you think he does for you, too. Sometimes. One can never be sure of anything with the prince, who keeps himself so closely guarded. Even after more than a year of marriage. Even now that you have given him a child.

The birth went mercifully well, but your recovery was long, and he has only recently begun to come to your bed again. And so far, only a handful of times. The first time, it was so painful for you that the act could not be completed, and the second time, he finished so quickly that it barely even counts. The third was better. Pleasurable for both of you, but still strange after going so long without it - at least for you. It is both likely and possible that the prince satisfied his urges elsewhere while your body was indisposed. You do not know. Nor do you wish to.

The ground shifts beneath your feet, and the heat around you lessens, as does the heavy smell of burned flesh and brimstone, the very same one that so often clings to your husband’s clothes. When you open your eyes it is to the sight of Vhagar, settled onto her belly, her head laid atop her claws. Calm and docile, and with a deep rumble coming from her chest - one that is probably a sign of contentment, even if it sounds utterly terrifying.

“Touch her,” the prince commands, giving a gentle push to your back. “You have nothing to fear, touch her.”

It is quite clear that Vhagar is unruffled by your presence, that she is resting. But with her eyes heavy and half-closed, it makes her look so menacing, so evil - even though you know that evil does not exist inherently in any beast. Only in those who train it.

You draw in a steadying breath, gathering up your courage, reaching your hand out - only to then think better of it and let it fall.

“I am afraid to,” you whisper.

The prince sighs. But his hand closes gently around yours, bringing it to rest on the side of her nose, first the tips of your fingers, and then your whole palm.

It is like nothing else you have ever felt, her scales. You always imagined that a dragon’s skin would feel like leather, but Vhagar’s skin is so much tougher, so much rougher, like running your hand over little rocks. And she is warm - so warm, as though a fire is always burning somewhere in her throat.

She does not object at all to your touch, even when the prince withdraws his own hand, leaving only yours. Only you and Vhagar. The largest, oldest being in the world.

To think, the things she has seen. The conquest, the Dornish Wars, the very founding of the realm of the Seven Kingdoms. Dozens of castles have crumbled in her fire, and thousands of people have perished, and she has fought and won hundreds of battles; torn through stone, rock and earth as though it was boiled jelly.

It is at once terrifying and romantic, like something from a fairytale, or stories of ancient times. A creature of such myth and legend that you almost feel as though you should bow down to her, as one does before a great matriarch.

Vhagar the Conqueror. Queen of all Dragons.

She closes her eyes when you draw back.

“He might ride her too, some day,” the prince says quietly. Wistfully.

“But dragons only have one rider - ” you protest, cutting yourself off when you realise what he meant. What he left unsaid.

This is war. The realm is at war. Death is everywhere; at the end of a blade, in the point of an arrow. And if not on the field of battle, then in tainted water or plague-ridden camps; empty bellies or festering wounds.

“You shouldn’t say such things,” you mutter, looking down at your feet. Your dirtied shoes.

The prince does not answer. A heavy mood has settled over the rocky beach, something vast and bleak and empty, only compounded by the surroundings. The colourless sky, the sombre crashing of waves. Even Vhagar gives a doleful sigh, as though she too is weary of what is to come.

She has been the prince’s companion since childhood. He was born to the queen, but Vhagar made him what he is, made him ruthless, made him brutally ambitious. Made him Aemond One-Eye, Aemond the Kinslayer. Prince Regent, Protector of the Realm. She has known him boy and man, as well as any, and better than most. She has known him in life, and she may yet know him in death.

You push that thought away as forcefully as your mind allows. You shouldn’t think such things.

A coo from your son breaks the tension, and his eyes turn to the sky, where a large heron is flapping its wings. The afternoon is turning to evening, and soon the bell will ring for supper - something warm and comforting, you hope. You are cold, your breasts feel sore, and you have most certainly had enough excitement for one day. For several days, in fact.

“Can we go, please,” you breathe, looking up at your husband with wide, pleading eyes.

“She is tired,” he says, with a soft glance at Vhagar’s terrifying face, and a gentle touch to her side. “Yes, we should.”

—

You walk slower on the way back. Uphill, with sore feet, and your boy now fast asleep in your arms. Safe and snug where he belongs.

“My Prince,” you begin, sweet and innocent. “What does… yoreliatzeh mean?”

There is a sly little smile on his face when you look at him, a self-assured look in his remaining eye.

“Jorrāeliarza,” he corrects, with an artful pause before he continues. As though to keep you in suspense. “It means dear. Or… beloved.”

If he sees the sudden blush on your face, he does not let on.

“Jorālitzeh.”

“No,” he says. “Jor-rāe-liar-za.”

“Jor-rāe-liar-za,” you repeat, trying your very best to mimic the exact movements of his mouth, the way he gently rolls his tongue. “Jorrāeliarza.”

“Better,” he nods, and then you round a corner, just in time to see the guards hastily hide their cards away, and the driver shuffling back towards the carriage, eagerly shoving his winnings into a pocket.

Jorrāeliarza. Jorrāeliarza. Jorrāeliarza.

Dear. Beloved.

You like that very much.

Please feel free to come into my asks or DMs with critique of my fics! Constructive is preferred, but not required.

Tags. @arcielee, @targaryen-madness, @aemondsbabygirl, @qyburnsghost, @blackswxnn

I am a mess with the tagging, I'm so sorry if I forgot or wrongly tagged anyone. Let me know, I will fix it.

#aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond fluff

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timmydraker · 2 months ago

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Tim Drake is a selkie.

No one outside of Janet Drake knows this, and she ensure it is kept a secret purely for the fact that if it gets out people will quickly realise that neither she nor Jack is a selkie themselves.

They would realise that Janet had an affair.

The man she had met on their trip overseas had gotten her pregnant and then vanished, seemingly disappearing into thin air.

It wasn’t until Tim was born that she was sure it was the other man’s child, if not for the distinctly black hair than the smooth pelt like band around his wrist.

His father had one similar and he refused to take it off.

The first time Tim transformed was luckily when Janet was still sure she wanted to be a mother and was bathing him at just four months old. When the little boy with bright blue eyes suddenly went quiet and then rolled over in the bath, she watched as he turned into a small baby seal.

Janet had screeched and backed up in shock, only to watch as the seal looked at her with big black eyes and seemingly start to cry before he shifted back into Tim.

The band around his wrist came off and was the perfect shape of the seals pelt from earlier, sitting in the tub like it hadn’t just shifted Janet’s entire life out of balance.

Naturally she hid the hide and made sure Tim never saw it again, especially when there were no more shifting incidents.

Tim was nine when he found it and well accustomed to his parents lying to him about a range of things, all varying in importance. They lied about when they would be home, about stocking the fridge, about being at his science fair…

But when Tim was sneaking into his mums closet to try find one of her spare credit cards, he found the pelt and something in him felt whole.

Tim had always felt like something wasn’t right about him. He felt like his very body was missing, or maybe his soul, and no matter what he did he couldn’t find a way to fill that gap. Being in water helped, so did showers and sunlight, though it was never enough.

It was why he started skating and stalking Batman and Robin, just to distract himself.

Photography worked best though.

Yet as he reached a tentative hand out to touch the pelt he swore he could feel himself being put back together like a puzzle.

Tim didn’t shift straight away, not when he was left stuck in the blissful feeling of his skin feeling right for the first time he could recall.

It was when he watched the pelt shift to wrap around his bare arm like a sleeve that he shifted.

The seal form he took wasn’t what he expected, but of course it wasn’t.

From then on Tim would spend every chance he got with the pelt, learning to control both the shifting of his skin and how to disguise the hide on his person. He usually kept it as some kind of band that covered his arm or waist, keeping it close to his hand at all times so he could check that it was safe.

He never wore it when his parents were home, just in case.

Naturally, he did research and learnt what he was as best he could.

By the time Janet realised he was taking the hide out of its hiding spot he was thirteen and almost finished his Robin training. He had kept it hidden from Batman if only because he was scared and not even sure if his mother really knew what it was, but when he came home to find her in his room he knew it was over.

She had held out her hand and said in the calmest voice she could, “hand it over, Timothy.”

Tim didn’t.

Janet had stood up and gripped his wrist, quickly finding the pelt around his arm and yanking it off of him.

Tim had cried, not out of physical pain but mental. It was like he was being put under some kind of spell and he found himself unable to move to snatch it back as Janet held the now pelt in a too tight grip.

“You will not touch this again, you hear me? I’m going to burn it.”

And she tried, she really did, but then Tim started to scream. The loud, echoing wails rang through the entire mansion until Jack rushed to his son and tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

Janet only stopped when Jack started calling for her to call an ambulance and she came up with the badly damaged pelt to find her son seizing on the floor with his skin burning red.

Tim calmed down quickly once she put it under water, but he was still shaking and sobbing wildly.

He never found out how she managed to convince Jack to not call for an ambulance or to leave them alone, and Tim tried not to think about how little Jack had to care for him to accept so easily.

Janet had given him the pelt back and watched him sob as he held it to his chest and wailed.

The next trip they went on lasted seven months and in that time he spent as much as he could in his seal form to focus on healing his damaged skin.

It was still burnt, ugly scars covering the bottom and entire left side of his fur, but he learnt to maintain it.

After that he kept the pelt hidden under armour in the Robin uniform.

When Jason attacked him he cut the pelt through his armour, not knowing it was there. He managed to not cut it in half and in a twisted irony got right over where it wasn’t scarred.

Tim managed to hide it from Batman but at that point he was sure that Alfred suspected something.

Yet it wasn’t until Damian that anyone found out.

At that point Tim felt safe enough to have his pelt kept as a thick band around his wrist, out and open but only in the manner.

As much as he wanted to hate him, Tim couldn’t blame Damian when after a year and a half of him being there and the two working out a few differences and issues, he noticed. Tim hadn’t worn it visible since he first arrived and tried to kill Tim, but he had subconsciously felt safer around Damian and the boy was the best at spitting changes in others appearance.

“Oh.”

Bruce had looked up at Damian while Tim minded his business stirring his tea, “what’s up, chum?”

Damian pointed to Tim’s wrist, “I was not aware you were a Selkie, Drake. I apologise if I damaged you pelt in my attacks.”

Tim had tensed so badly that he was sure that Superman could hear his joints locking even though he was off planet.

Naturally Tim started to hyperventilate when Bruce asked with genuine confusion, “What?”

Tim bolted to his room as quickly as he could and shut the door before sliding down it and clutching his pelt-band to his chest with his free hand.

It could have been a few seconds or minutes, but it felt like a whole hour before Tim heard a knock at the door and the calm, gentle voice of Bruce talking through it.

“Tim? Can you open up for me please?”

Shaking his head even when the other couldn’t see, Tim let out a whimper and crawled quickly to the bathroom as his panic took over.

By the time he heard the door open he was in his preferred form of a half seal, his lower body only and the skin of his back shifted, and clutching his inhuman lower body.

Bruce came in and stared at him in shock for a bit before swallowing.

Coming to sit beside the tub, Bruce reached over and turned on the tap to let water begin to run into the tub.

Tim was grateful if not a little confused by the action and finally got the courage to look up at him.

Bruce looked awkward as hell, but was clearly trying if the small smile on his face was any evidence.

Reaching a big hand over, he held it palm up for Tim until the young man reached out to accept it and placed his own now damp hand in his.

“I… I don’t know what exactly you are, but I do know that you are my son. Damian seems to think I should know already and maybe I should, but not because you didn’t tell me. As much as it pains me to say it, I get why you wouldn’t trust me.”

Tim shook his head, “I trust you, Bruce. I just… the less people who know, the less likely I’ll loose my pelt again.”

Bruce frowned but said nothing about what that implied , though Tim knew he’d be asked about it later. It didn’t help that his lower half showed the most of his burn scars.

“I’m sorry, Tim. I can’t change what has been done, but I can promise you I will never, ever take you pelt form you. I don’t know ow exactly what it means, I’ve never heard of a selkie before, but Damian seemed to think it was important.”

Tim smiled even as he wondered how Damian knew what his pelt was.

Bruce gave his hand a squeeze, “He seemed to gain a lot more respect for you because of it.”

Damian spoke from where he was at the door, making Tim jump and Bruce inhale in a way that showed he was taken off guard, “Of course I have. Selkies are nearly extinct and Timothy had survived to almost nineteen without loosing his pelt.”

Tim fully shifted in his shock.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #tim drake is a menace #damian wayne #Bruce Wayne #Batman #batman and robin #Damian Wayne is Robin #selkie #Selkie tim drake

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aealzx · 6 months ago

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Prologue Next

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“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

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I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

#my art #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #I dunno what to tag this with #do people get mad if the main tags get crossover stuff in them?#phantom rogues #nervous about posting #but yolo

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callsigns-haze · 3 months ago

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Little life

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin has always been the centre of attention, but behind the cocky aviator façade, he cherishes quiet nights at home with his pregnant wife, Y/N, as they navigate love, routine, and a life the squad knows nothing about.

Warning: This fic contains fluff, pregnancy themes, and light teasing romance.

Word count: 1068 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Part 2 Part 3

Jake Seresin was a man who always seemed to attract attention. With his easy charm and cocky grin, women flocked to him the moment they laid eyes on him. It happened every time—at the bar, after missions, during social events. The second a woman saw him, they’d saunter over, usually with a flirtatious smile, batting their lashes, asking him to buy them a drink.

And every time, without fail, Jake turned them down.

It confused the entire Dagger squad. They’d tease him relentlessly about it, nudging him with raised brows and playful smirks, wondering why someone like him—someone who had the looks, the swagger, the perfect call sign—never took the bait. They couldn’t figure him out. To them, Jake seemed like the type to indulge in a little fun, to soak up the attention and enjoy the benefits of being the golden boy.

But Jake wasn’t interested.

Not anymore.

Because the truth was, when Jake wasn’t flying missions or teasing his teammates, he was at home in Texas, living a life no one suspected. He had a routine, a life outside of the cocky, brash aviator persona he wore like a second skin.

That life began with you.

You sat at your desk, soft lighting casting a warm glow over your latest manuscript. The smell of ink and freshly brewed tea hung in the air, and the quiet hum of a summer night filtered through the open window. You were three months pregnant now, the couple married for a month now, and the bump had just started to show beneath your oversized sweater, a fact Jake never missed when he was home.

He sat nearby, like always, in his favourite armchair. His legs stretched out casually, one arm slung over the back, while the other held a half-empty glass of whiskey. His eyes weren’t on the drink, though—they were on you, as they always were.

You highlighted another line in your manuscript, frowning a little as you moved the neon marker across the page. The ruler in your hand—one you used to make sure your lines were perfectly straight—had gotten a little too stained with colour, and without thinking, you reached out and wiped the edge of the ruler off on Jake’s hand.

He chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head in amusement. “You know, sweetheart, there are other ways to clean that thing. Ever heard of tissues?”

You glanced at him, giving a half-smile as you continued working. “Maybe. But I prefer you.”

That made him grin wider. “Lucky me, then.”

It had become a sort of routine for the two of you, especially now that you were pregnant and he was often gone on missions. When he was home, though, there was no place Jake would rather be than right here, with you, basking in the quiet moments. To anyone else, he was “Hangman”—the sharp-tongued aviator with an ego the size of Texas itself. But with you, he was just Jake, the man who found peace in the most mundane of moments.

He loved watching you work. The way your brow would furrow in concentration, how you’d absentmindedly tuck your hair behind your ear, or bite your lip when you were thinking through a tricky plot point. Jake would tease you for your little quirks, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on the top of your head when he couldn’t resist anymore.

“Need any help there, author of mine?” he’d ask, his voice teasing but soft.

You’d roll your eyes in response, but your smile always gave you away. “I think I’ve got it covered, flyboy.”

Jake would laugh and go back to his drink, but you knew he liked being part of your world like this. When you’d first met, you had been a rising star in the literary world, already on your way to becoming a bestselling author. You were about to turn 20 in a couple weeks just before you wandered into 27 year old Jakes life. Jake never made a big deal about it, though he’d brag quietly to himself every time he saw one of your books displayed in airport bookstores. No one in the squad had any idea who you were, much less that you and Jake were married. And he liked it that way. He liked keeping this part of his life private, away from the chaos of the outside world.

With you, everything was simpler. Real.

Jake loved you in ways no one ever saw. He loved you in the stolen kisses between your sentences, in the lazy mornings in bed when you pressed your nose against his chest, in the quiet I love you’s whispered as he pulled you close late at night. You were his world—everything else was just noise.

As you finished another page, you sighed softly, stretching your arms above your head. Jake’s gaze was on you in an instant, taking in the slight curve of your stomach, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. He got up from his chair and moved behind you, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders, gently kneading away the tension that had built up from hours of working.

“Time to take a break, darlin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. “Just a little longer. I’m almost done.”

Jake let out a soft laugh, low and teasing. “That’s what you said an hour ago.”

You smiled, but your body relaxed under his hands. You couldn’t deny that the warmth of his touch and the quiet affection in his voice had a way of making you forget the world for a while.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, setting your highlighter down. “But only because you’re so persuasive.”

Jake grinned, pressing a kiss to your neck before straightening up. He turned your chair around so you were facing him, his hands on either side of the armrests, caging you in. His eyes sparkled with that mischievous glint he always had when he was about to say something that would make your heart race.

“Darlin’, I don’t need to be persuasive,” he drawled, his Southern accent thick and smooth. “I’m your favourite distraction, remember?”

You laughed, shaking your head as he leaned in closer. “You’re impossible, Jake.”

“And you love me for it,” he said, his lips brushing against yours before kissing you softly, his hand resting on your belly, feeling the life growing inside you.

And he was right, even though he was nearly seven years older—you did love him for it.

I may or may not have made this into a mini series so let me know if you'd like to be tagged

Part 2 Part 3

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader

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fruithoughts · 2 months ago

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PRINCESS TREATMENT

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤh. joshua x fem!reader ⪩⪨

01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember . ⎯⎯⎯ joshua.

02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 . ⎯⎯⎯ multiple pet names, possessive thoughts, mentions of blowjobs(m.) and sex, just a very gentle guy who loves his girl more than anything.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua whose instagram is filled to the brim with pictures of his beautiful girl, sometimes he forgets to tag you but it’s okay because it takes no sherlock holmes to figure out your username since he only follows your account and a naruto fanpage.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who wants you to meet his parents in less than a month into the relationship, it’s extremely important to him to make it as clear as possible that he is serious about you, leaves no room for overthinking at all, always a step ahead of you in the “would you still love me if i was a worm?” department, the best boy indeed.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who would rather take a bullet than let you pay for literally anything, because how dare you even suggest paying for your own things? as if you don’t know the only reason he works so hard it’s exactly so he can pamper you endlessly? the absolute nerve of you, better get on your knees and start apologizing.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who is the sassiest and most dramatic guy you’ve ever been with, but can not for the life of him handle the thought of you doing any work at all, in every aspect, which, ironically, sometimes makes you work even harder to get what you want.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who makes it the world’s most difficult challenge to accept receiving head from you for the first time, he enjoys being the one doing all of the work to make you feel good, he just couldn’t see how blowing him off would please you at all so he kept denying(while completely ignoring the tent forming rapidly in his grey sweatpants) until you begged too sweetly, so softly, looking at him with so much adoration and love, like you wanted nothing more than to please him, he could have finished right there but instead he shook his head and sat down in the bed, ready to give his princess anything she could ever want, just like he promised he would! even if what she wanted was to kneel in front of him and try to fit his thick cock into her little mouth for a while.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who uses every opportunity that stumbles across his way to show off his huge arms, it’s a win-win scenario, he gets to feel all hot and manly and you get to hold onto your boyfriend’s strong biceps everywhere you go and get carried on bride style after a night out that, honestly, didn’t even leave you that drunk, but since he offered to carry you, who would ever say no?

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who adores your nails and is always super excited to see the results of your nail appointments, asks for pictures during the whole process, sends you food when it’s taking too long, and finally when the nails are done, he’s there to pick you up in his shiny car, more than ready to do the last step of your nail day, which is putting them to the test, the scratch test.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who just can’t help but adore when you leave him all marked up, he loves it, and how can you blame him? was he supposed to be normal about having proof straight on his body of just how good he made you feel last night? how could you even consider he'd do such a thing? this man is not normal about you in general.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who knows your entire wardrobe like the back of his hand, half of it because he bought it, the other half because of how often he’s watching you, definitely a “i look at you more often than you think” kinda guy. he’s very proud of just how well he knows his baby.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who remembers all of your food preferences and orders, knows all of your allergies, all of your icks and all of your friend’s gossips because he’s just so well behaved! he won't tell anyone, he never would! he's your joshy! you can trust him to keep all of your secrets, forever.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who’s very open about the fact that he wants to marry you, live the rest of your lives together, maybe with a kid if you’re into that, maybe just dogs if that’s better for you, he got his own wishes when it comes to creating a family, but at the end of the day; this man has one priority, and she has a name. whatever is best for you, it’s the best for him.

⪩⪨ husband!joshua who no matter how long it has passed since you got married, has not lost even a little bit of his obsession with you. his precious flower, his cute little thing, his darling, his sweet girl, that’s all you’ll ever be to him, all his to love and protect, forever.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua smut #hong joshua smut #joshua fluff #seventeen drabbles #seventeen reactions #hong joshua x reader

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wttcsms · 2 months ago

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come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)

ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )

pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist

If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…

Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.

“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”

“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?”

Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.

“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—”

This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.

Kuroo always knows what to do.

And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up.

The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.

You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes.

“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.”

“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.

Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible.

“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.

Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them.

“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”

“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?”

“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.”

Oh.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager.

“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.

“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.”

“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?”

Kuroo smiles.

“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].”

You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you.

For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up.

Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.”

You can only nod in agreement.

“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”

A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something.

“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.”

While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—

“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking.

You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked!

Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel.

“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him.

“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.”

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.”

“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!”

“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?”

You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.”

Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh.

“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?”

Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission.

“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you.

He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?”

You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.”

He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that?

Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.”

“Atta girl.”

He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you.

He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?”

You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.”

You did nothing wrong.

He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt.

“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.”

“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.

It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be.

“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud.

“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?”

Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to.

Which is why he doesn’t make you wait.

Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed.

He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway.

Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again.

“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.”

The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.

“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.”

And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.

Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after.

Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes.

But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.

You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.

However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.

Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.

When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible.

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?”

You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again.

“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”

“R-really?”

He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs.

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.”

Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting.

“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward.

He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise.

“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”

His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”

You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head.

“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy.

“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you.

You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again.

“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum.

#tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #smut #one shot #drabble #lemon #kinktober 2024 #kuroo smut #haikyuu fanfiction #imagine #well better late than never LOL

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intromortal · 2 months ago

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OLDER!ENHYPEN OT6 HEADCANONS PART 2.

part 1

⚠︎ nsfw, mdni. daddy/sir/master kink, age gaps (every party in this is an ADULT, no minors involved) intoxicated sex for hee's, semi public sex for hee's and won's, pregnancy sex and stepcest for jay's, jake is a little shit, corruption kink for hoon's, public sex for sunoo's, jungwon as an entire warning for sunoo's, teacher/student dynamics for jungwon's.

i strongly advise you read part 1 before this as i'm not sure the dynamics are clear enough without previous context !

a!n i missed older enha sm i just had to give this a pt 2 <3 gen so sorry for not having posted anything in like. forever but life has been beating my ass and while brain is braining, fingertips are not writing ughhh. hopefully i get out of this slump :] as always feedback is much appreciated! enjoy <3

HEESEUNG | ‘s chest was caging you, pressing your front against the cold bathroom wall of the definitely too pricey bar your date for the night had insisted on bringing you to, and you’d be laughing at how fate works in such unexpected ways if it weren’t for how sloppily heeseung’s mouth was running down your neck. warm tongue tracing every little sensitive spot and teeth grazing your skin.

“that little boy out there? he will never make you cum as good as i do,” he whispered as he slightly pulled back, breath hot from the alcohol raising goosebumps all over your body. you were very, very annoyed with him though, after the months of radio silence on his part that followed that one night in your room. and you made it clear with how you pressed your ass against his crotch, the gasp leaving his lips making yours turn upwards in return. had you known all it took to break lee heeseung was showing up to the bar he and his coworkers frequented with another man’s arm secured around your waist, you would’ve done that ages ago.

“well, he definitely made me cum way more in the last m—” you don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence, one of his rough hands flying up to your neck to squeeze it just enough to make the words die in your throat. his other hand grabbed his cock and teased the tip of it against your folds, the fabric of your panties so drenched with your juices they stuck perfectly to your fluttering pussy, and he could feel it all.

“oh yeah? how many? so smug and for what? he must have not done a good job then because here you are, dripping for me and i haven’t even done anything.” he let his cock rest underneath your heat, slowly moving his hips to tease you as he bunched your skirt up to get a clear view. all the patience and control he thought he had was already wavering, but it flew out of the window right then. like all the months of self-restraint, the guilt he felt towards your dad, even when he was fucking his fist alone at night on facebook family pics his best friend would post every so often, bringing his deepest desires out on the surface all over again. it all meant nothing when he finally pushed your panties out of the way, unashamed of the amount of precum mixing with your juices, as he bit down on your ear before letting his tip slide into your heat. “but i have all the time i want to match whatever number it is, angel.”

JAY | who had to watch you walk around with your boyfriend, his stupid face always so bright ever since you gave him the news that you’re pregnant. stupid fucking idiot who thinks he’s the dad. but of course, jay knew better. there was no way that child growing in your belly wasn't his, not after making sure to cum inside you time and time again whenever he had the chance, until his body physically couldn’t cum anymore. he hated your boyfriend and he hated to know you let his dirty hands on your body. he hated that he couldn't claim you publicly, letting everyone know you’re his. so all he had, to keep whatever little shred of sanity left in him, was knowing that your child is a product of your love.

and when his head nuzzled in your hair as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo while pumping his cock carefully in and out of your wet cunt, he asked time and time again if you knew it’s his offspring you're carrying, if you were doing all this on purpose to make him hurt.

“but of course you know—how could you not,” he said in open mouthed kisses against your neck, his hands sliding away from your thighs to swipe soothing figures with his thumb into the skin of your swollen belly. how could it be so wrong? even if he’s your step dad, even if he recently married your mother? his love for you couldn’t be wrong, because then why did it feel so right? something so beautiful and pure just has to be right, he thought to himself. his hands wandered to your tits full of milk, playing gently with your hypersensitive nipples, careful not to hurt you. “shhhh little girl, it’s okay, i’ve got you,” he murmured along the skin of your shoulder as he kept rubbing his fingers all over your tits, the little droplets of milk only helping his digits to move smoothly. you sounded so pretty mewling like that for him, looked so pretty squirming in his strong hold, your back arched as you started to fuck yourself back on jay’s cock. “what a good little girl… helping daddy out,” he moaned in your ear before bringing one of his fingers to his mouth and licking it clean, loudly groaning at the taste of your milk. “so fucking sweet baby, fuck… you always make daddy so proud.”

JAKE | truly didn't mean for this to happen, but it was happening anyway so you two should just make the best of it, at least that’s what you hoped he thought. you though? fuck, you felt so embarrassed. leaving your cheating boyfriend for his dad was one thing. but knowing he was listening in to you two fucking? that’s next level. jake didn’t seem particularly fazed by it, actually maybe a little… excited about it?

you’d swear he’s been pounding you into the matress even rougher than he was before, since he heard the front door slam, signifying his son was back home when he shouldn't have been. you were always so careful with making sure you only went over when your ex boyfriend wasn't there, or maybe jake had done that on purpose? lied to you… but he would never, would he? he’d always been so sweet and caring, truly the best man you’ve ever had. and honestly even if he did plan for this, you were not coherent enough to realize, at least not while he held your head down on the mattress with his huge veiny hand, the other roughly holding onto your hip as he unapologetically pounded into you, making the headboard of the bed slam repeatedly into the wall. the exact wall against where you knew your ex boyfriend’s desk is placed. jake was usually so soft, always putting your pleasure above his, what had gotten into him?

you could barely think as you moved your head to the side to be able to breathe, the relief short lived because soon after he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanked you up against his chest, his hips never faltering as your face started to feel even hotter. you couldn't tell if it was the humiliation or the pleasure, or maybe both.

“stop fucking holding back,” his tone was almost mean, so uncharacteristically him, and it brought tears to your eyes, but also made your messy cunt leak even more. you didn't want to be heard, but jake was making it one hell of a challenge to keep quiet, especially when he let go of your hip and brought his hand to rub harsh circles on your clit.

“please sir… slower,” you bit down your moans, pleading through gritted teeth. and jake was not happy about it. the sting on your clit was sudden, your body jerking in his hold as you slowly realized he’d just slapped your clit.

“no,” his voice left no room for backtalk, as he hit your bundle of nerves one second time. “you will let him hear how much better i fuck you.”

SUNGHOON | was the first man you allowed to touch you. he was obsessed with you from the moment you shyly walked up to him to introduce yourself when you first met him, pretty large eyes looking up at him with a glint he couldn't quite decipher at first. he slowly learned it was submission. from day one, you’d been nothing but obedient, always looking for praise, always trying your best to make him a proud instructor. and you just always looked up to him with such innocence… it felt wrong, how hard it made his cock.

so when he finally had you for the first time, he had to try his best not to cum right then and there, when you told him you’d never been with anyone like this. you couldn't even look at him as you confessed it, poor little thing. no one had ever pushed past your folds inside your tight fluttering hole, you’d never had anything push between your lips, never had anyone taste you. he was obsessed with that thought. he’d get to be your first everything, and that made his cock twitch in his pants.

“it’s okay baby… i will make it feel so good…” he said as he captured your lips in a kiss once again, so soft and careful as if he might break you. the kiss was deliberately slow and sensual, he wanted to just bask in the moment, afraid it might end too soon, his hands roaming around your body and pulling you flush against him, his length rubbing against your body. you gasped at the contact, breaking away suddenly, surprised at how he chased your lips again right away.

“wan’... wanna make you feel good…”

he could tell you were holding something back, too shy to initiate it, so he helped you out. “who is it pretty girl mh? who do you want to satisfy?” he watched you carefully, cradling your head with his hand, and nearly groaning when your nuzzled into his palm right away, just like a little kitty.

“wanna make daddy feel good… don’t know how to,” you stuttered out, hiding your face in his hand, too embarrassed to keep eye contact. he doesn't know where he found the self control to not turn you against the lockers in the changing room and take you right then and there, but somehow, he did. instead dropping to his knees in front of you and sniffing your cunt right through your workout leggings, mouth salivating instantly. he mouthed at your core, basking in your cute whimpers, before he finally slid the thick fabric down along with your panties, enough to reveal your puffy little pussy. he grabbed your thighs, bringing you over his mouth completely, admiring her from so close. “another time sweet girl… let daddy take care of this needy little thing first.”

SUNOO | loved showing you off to everyone. to his employees, to his friends, to his collaborators and most of all, to his competition. especially when said competition has… history with you.

he always made you wear nothing under your skirt, granting him easier access during the night. at that point, you had started to get used to all the weird looks and whispers you got when, like clockwork, his hand slid between your thighs under the table to toy with your pussy. not like they ever said anything anyway, sunoo was just too powerful and important for them to. regardless of how fucking weird he is.

this time though, it’s different. the guest for the night was none other than yang jungwon, one of sunoo’s top competitors, and well… probably your most infamous old fling. and sunoo was fucking loving it. for the special occasion, he’d encouraged you time and time again during the night to sneak your hand in his pants. and so you do; what sunoo wanted, sunoo got. that was the rule.

the air was charged with tension despite the almost laid-back look of it all: sunoo laying back against his chair like absolutely nothing was going on, and jungwon seemingly uncaring for what was actually going on, if not a little humored by it. and they were just making casual conversation at that. “heeseung… haven’t heard that name in a long time,” jungwon pondered, reaching for his wine glass.

“yeah… last time i met him he— fuck yeah puppy, just like that.”

your hand froze on sunoo’s cock, noting the twitch in his length. he always loved putting you in embarrassing situations, got off on it. your eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights as you looked at jungwon, your foot nervously tapping on the floor when he stopped mid sip. he looked between the two of you, eyebrow quirking slightly before downing the rest of the wine in one swing. “puppy, huh?”

you wanted to hide somewhere, anywhere. let the ground engulf you and never let you escape. but sunoo pinched your thigh, and you knew it meant he wanted you to keep milking his cock with your fist, so you did.

“a very obedient one,” sunoo snickered, and you hated how it made you clamp your thighs together in search of some friction.

“she knows how to use her hands, but her head is even better,” jungwon commented, clearly amused by the situation.

“agree, had to train her to take it though.” they were talking about you, in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that you were there to hear it. and for some sick reason it turned you on. you glanced back at sunoo with a questioning look on your features, and he pet your head a few times, the usual glint in his eyes telling you to keep going, or he’d have to teach you a lesson when you two eventually left the restaurant. and one thing about sunoo, you never wanted to push him to do that.

JUNGWON | prided himself in being a calm and collected man, always level headed. that completely flies out of the window when it comes to you. but could you blame him? when he sees how all your coursemates tried to get paired up with you, found any excuse to talk to you? he knew they just wanted to get in your pants, he saw it in how they watched you, how their eyes roamed all over your body whrn you were not looking their way. he saw it in their eyes too, and he fucking hated it.

he knew it was not your fault, but he couldn't take it out on them. after all, what you two have was a secret. so instead, he took it out on you. called for you to stay back so you two could talk after class was over and everyone was already leaving, you happily walking towards him without a know in the world of the storm raging inside him. you caught up soon though, when you noticed how hard his jaw was clenched and how his knuckles were turning white from the strong grip he had on the crumpled papers.

he hastily took off his tie, securing it around your wrists so your arms were bound together behind your back. you were so confused as he made you get on his desk, looking back at him to ask what's happened but he didn't even let you get a word out before he pushed you on your knees. your upper body bent forward to rest on the desk because your arms were tied together, unable to support yourself up. your ass was facing him as he stood behind you, pushing your skirt up to reveal your bare cunt. no panties.

this would usually excite him, but in his jealous haze, it only enraged him further. “and you wanna act like you don’t know what the fuck you did?” he spit out, yanking you closer to the edge of his desk. “slutting yourself out like this? when you know how everyone is trying to get a look under your skirt?”

“won, what are you—”

“won?” he landed a harsh slap on your ass, your body jerking forward at the sting.

“sir! sorry sir—”

“yeah you’ll be sorry alright.” he took a seat on his chair, bringing your ass to hover close to his face before diving in and licking a stripe from your clit to your hole, groaning in satisfaction at the taste. “no cumming today, little brat.”

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