Haikyuu, BSD, Blue Period, Black Clover(some characters) and Genshin
When asking for ideas with a character/person, Please specify female, male or GN reader(also sub and dom). Pick scrabble or long fic because I will choose for you if you don’t!
SUMMARY: You enrol into a rich ass university under a scholarship scheme. You find out the university is not only famous for its prestigiousness, but also very famous for their host club: a club with five very handsome, very eccentric boys that entertain the bored and affluent students. When you accidentally land yourself in debt to them, you're forced to assist with five events each under a different host. What can go wrong…?!
GENRE: smut, homie hopper y/n, ohshc au, mini series, dom! reader, crack, fluff, uni au, reverse harem, parody
PAIRING: sub! ot5 txt x dom! reader
INTRODUCING THE HOSTS:
Each of the five hosts attracts guests with their own distinct type, all of which are widely loved for their different appeal.
CHOI YEONJUN ! The ‘prince charming’ type
With his good looks, princely charm, and flamboyancy, Yeonjun is the most popular member of the host club, with a 70% request rate. His rose's color is white and his representative animal is a fox. Choi yeonjun was the one to create the club, his family plays a significant role in funding the university, hence why he is able to get away with having such a club. He personally recruited all of the other members and the club is something he values more than anything. A fashion major, Choi yeonjun is the heir to a global luxury fashion house. He also excitedly designs and creates many of the costumes for the host club events and members. He is the most flirty member and does the most fanservice.
CHOI SOOBIN ! The ‘gentle leader’ type
As the club’s president, Choi soobin is known for his calm authority and soft spoken nature. He is very polite and known to be very gentlemanly. His family is also the richest, with very old money and an aristocratic lineage. Despite this, he remains humble and approachable. His rose’s colour is pink and his representative animal is a bunny. Guests love him for his soft posh boy vibes, often wearing fake glasses as he knows guests love it, leaning into this image. His soft nurturing nature as the leader earned him the club’s unofficial title of the ‘mum’, whilst yeonjun is referred to as the ‘dad’ - a contrasting dynamic guests really seem to like. He also studies English literature. Guests ask soobin to create bullshit poetry for them, which they fawn over. Despite being an English lit student, poetry is not one of his strong suits.
CHOI BEOMGYU ! The ‘emo rockstar’ type
He is very brooding and emo, known for his mysterious nature which, unsurprisingly gains him a lot of attention from guests. With his messy wolfcut, guitar, and multiple facial piercings, he leans into a rockstar aesthetic that many find appealing. It is a role that sells. His roses’s colour is red and his representative animal is a bear. Unlike the other members, he is also secretly on a scholarship and does not come from an esteemed or wealthy family. He has his issues with the club, but it pays well and he does love his members. He remains deeply attached to the club and still enjoys being a host. Choi beomgyu studies music. Seems to always be tired and sleeping due to balancing his studies and being a host club member.
HUENING KAI ! The ‘cute angel’ type
Often referred to as ‘Honey Kai’, a nickname guests who favour him use fondly. Kai is known for his bright, sweet, sunshine personality and his sweet tooth. His cheerful energy and soft, approachable nature makes him especially popular with those drawn to the cute type. He loves plushies and collecting them, particularly penguins and is almost never seen without one. Guests frequently gift him penguin plushies, to the point where he now just has two rooms filled entirely with them. His roses’s colour is yellow and his representative animal is a penguin. His family owns hotel and resort chains. Kai studies music alongside beomgyu. Occasionally, beomgyu and kai will produce background music for events together.
KANG TAEHYUN ! The ‘cool intelligent’ type
Kang taehyun is known for his cold and unemotional resolve. He is highly intelligent and academically driven, taehyun is the treasurer of the club. While soobin and yeonjun handle overall planning, taehyun oversees the numbers and tracks profits, keeping track of who performs best and what brings in the most revenue. He claims to only be involved for the experience and connections it offers, treating the club more like a strategic investment. His rose’s colour is blue and his representative animal is a squirrel. Though, many guests argue he is more of a cat. Despite all of this, taehyun is known to have a soft spot for kai, who is his best friend. Their dynamic is also especially popular. Kang taehyun studies finance and comes from a family involved in finance and brokerage. He also workouts the most and is popular for his good shape and muscles.
RELEASE DATE: TBA
COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST !
A/n: this probably won’t be out until around June since I have exams lol but I wanted to post a teaser since it was fun to make and to see the reception !! This series is going to be a mini series and will probably have 5 parts for each member. Also don’t get your hopes up LMAOO each chapter probably won’t be too long and will sort of be like oneshot smuts with each member. I do have rough ideas for each member now but this is still probably not going to be plot heavy or super cohesive loll
Also tell me which character has caught your eye so far based on the profiles in the comments I’m very curious hehe…which host would you be requesting for?
summary. when he was younger, satoru had a big fat crush on one of the teachers from the kyoto school. ten years later, you come out of teaching retirement to join him in tokyo, and his crush is back with a devastating vengeance... only this time, he might stand a chance!
wc. 10.4k
tags. smut | sub bottom gojo, dom top reader. older!reader, ex-teacher!reader, virgin!gojo. age gap (unspecified, reader has salt n pepper hair), size difference, first time, multiple orgasms, sir kink, daddy kink, reader calls gojo 'princess', rimming, crying, belly bulge, mirror sex, mating press
notes. based on this ramble post of mine which people really liked lol, so kinda requested?? enjoy.
"Will you miss me, sensei? When you go back to Kyoto?"
Satoru holds out a little pink packet of candy the size of his hand. He wears a hopeful smile and those trendy round sunglasses that make him look like a polar bear cub. He brightens when you accept his gift with a nod, admiring the cute branding before slipping it into your jacket pocket.
You hum, turning your attention to him from the sunset over the forest encircling the campus. You adjust your legs where you sit on the engawa, leaning back against a wooden pillar and resting your arm over your knee. A can of soda hangs from your fingers. "Of course, Satoru. You're shaping up to become a great sorcerer. That trick you pulled with Suguru today was clever – brawn alone won't win you every fight, so I'm glad you're putting effort into strategising."
He puffs out his chest, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin. "I took your words to heart... even though I could have won with strength alone. Still, it was a good challenge. Don't you wish I were your student, sensei?" He strikes a pose and tosses up a peace sign, making you smile. "I'd make your class average go up since I'm smart and strong."
"That's true. I've heard from your teachers that you like to slack off, though, and you drag your classmates into it. Not sure that's in your best interests."
"I wouldn't if you were my teacher. The ones here talk so slow and boring. I know most of the stuff anyway, so what's bad about napping a little?"
"Well, if you're doing fine with the content, then I don't see much of an issue. The bosses send you out far too often and I know how late you can return, so it's good to catch up on sleep. Though I wish they'd ease up on you – you're still kids, after all." You shake your head. "I digress. I have more of a problem with how you distract your classmates. Don't you think that's unfair to them?"
Satoru pouts, taking a seat next to you and tucking his knees up to his chest. He wraps his arms around his bare legs, wiggling his toes in his slides. "It's their fault for not ignoring me."
"They wouldn't have to ignore you if you weren't doing anything."
"Stop poking holes in my argument. That's mean, sensei."
You laugh softly, raising the can of soda to your lips. Condensation gathers in little droplets down the colourful brand art. "Alright, alright. I'll stop harping on about it – you probably get enough of that with your teachers." You settle down more comfortably. "Have you been taking care of yourself, Satoru? Three proper meals a day?"
He blinks. It's been a long time since anyone's asked him how he was. Every letter from his clan only requested updates regarding his technique and whether or not he'd gotten stronger, better, more efficient – he doesn't want to admit it, but on bad days, the weight of their expectations grows heavy. They can call him a natural prodigy all they like, but having to figure everything out by himself is anything but easy.
You watch him patiently, a soft concern in your gaze which you don't try to hide. His heart flutters. It feels good to be cared about. To be... seen.
"Yeah, 'm okay," he murmurs, pressing his cheek into the tops of his knees. "Just tired sometimes. I get headaches if I leave my eyes uncovered too long, or even if I just focus too hard. Hope I'll get it under control before graduating – it'd be such a pain to deal with that every single day."
"I'm sure you will, Satoru. You're resilient. More than you know." You offer a smile that's so trusting and wholehearted that Satoru knows you aren't lying. He finds himself smiling back.
"Thanks, sensei," he breathes, giggling shyly. It's almost pitiful how much you affect him. He scratches the back of his head. "I'll really miss you when you leave tomorrow. Can't you transfer campuses? I promise I'll be quiet in your classes. I'll even, like, raise my hand to answer questions. I never do that, by the way. But I would for you."
You chuckle softly and reach over to ruffle his soft white hair. He pouts, whining, but doesn't stop you. When you retract your hand, he finds himself leaning towards you, subconsciously searching for your touch. He stops before he topples over.
"You know I can't. I have family in Kyoto. Even if I didn't, I think spreading our strength across the country is better than piling it all in one place, no? We can protect more people that way."
He hums non-committally, disappointed but not too upset by your refusal; he can't expect you to change your mind just because he asks for the twentieth time, though it'd be nice if that happened. It's a net win, anyway – he likes the sound of your laughter and the warmth of your smile. You're patient and gentle, and god knows he needs that.
"Do you have a wife?" he asks suddenly. "Children?"
You tilt your head. "Hm? No. Where'd that question come from?"
He shrugs, gnawing back an ecstatic grin. "You just seem like the kind of guy to have some. I mean, you're really nice... and handsome. Thought someone woulda snatched you up like that." He snaps his fingers.
"Oh – well, thank you, Satoru," you laugh, pleasantly surprised. "But I travel far too much to make my own family. It would be cruel – not to mention difficult – to lie to someone about what I do, too."
"You want to marry a normie?" He frowns. "What's wrong with sorcerers?"
You laugh suddenly, a little flustered. "Ah, I don't know why I didn't think of that.... I suppose I could, but clans don't take well to people who don't come from one. Nothing is gained in those partnerships. Honestly, I wouldn't really want to marry into a clan – their drama sounds ridiculously tiring from everything you've told me."
"I wouldn't want you to, either. They have a way of sapping the joy out of life. Maybe they feed off it or something – it would explain why my clan elders look so much older and wrinklier than any old person I've seen on the street." He sighs, resting the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically. "Ugh, I'm really sad that you're leaving me so soon, sensei...! You're so dependable. Feels like I can trust you with anything."
You hum, patting his back sympathetically. His skin prickles with pleasant warmth under his t-shirt. "Don't worry, I'll be back next year. Time will fly by in the blink of an eye. After that, you'll be a fully-fledged sorcerer, and we might run into each other more around the workplace! Doesn't that sound fun?"
Satoru grins, nodding. He shuffles closer, exploiting your hand on his shoulder to lean against your side, tucking himself in there as if it's home. Your hand shifts to his other shoulder in a more comfortable position, and giddiness bubbles in his chest – it's as if you're cuddling, he thinks gleefully.
"Yeah," he sighs contentedly, watching the golden sun dip below the treetops. "Crazy to think we'll be co-workers soon. Felt like it was just yesterday that I got detention for being late for my first ever class. Time flies, huh?"
"High school's hectic, even without all the jujutsu. It's not unusual to feel that way." Finishing off your drink, you let out a soft grunt as you stand up, dusting off your trousers. You offer Satoru a brief smile. "Now that I think about it... What do you think of heading to a restaurant tonight? My treat – it's Friday. It bothers me to see you kids get swamped with the same amount of work they give me – you deserve to have some fun, relax, make the most of your youth. Maybe we could try out some karaoke afterwards? I'm pretty good, in my humble opinion."
An off-campus dinner? With you? Satoru needs to do his laundry right fucking now. He also needs to break out the ironing board, and the leather shoe polish, and his favourite cologne. But did you have preferences? Did you like stronger scents or clean ones? Floral? Vanilla? Wood?
You're still looking at him.
To his great embarrassment, he has to consciously close his mouth, his jaw gone slack. He flushes red, stuttering – your eyes crinkle in amusement.
"Dinner? W-With you? Absolutely I'd want that, holy fuck! I-I mean—" He clears his throat. "Yes. That sounds great. Thanks, sensei."
"Anytime," you laugh as he tugs and twists his hair, just for something to do with his hands. He'd bury his face in them otherwise. "Do you mind letting the other Tokyo students know? I'll tell my kids as well. I wonder if I could rope Yaga into chaperoning, too... Nah. I can look after a handful of teens. You're all well-behaved – I think."
Satoru tries not to show the way he deflates. You're inviting everyone? Damn it. There go his dreams of being hand-fed canapés under golden lights in a private booth.
"Okay," he mumbles dejectedly, only to brighten immediately – like a light switch flicked on – when you pat his head fondly. He beams, cheeks dusted pink.
As you card your fingers through his hair, he melts into your touch, and you chuckle at the sight of him butting his head into your hand like an affectionate cat. "What a sweetheart. Tell you what, Satoru – why don't we eat dinner together in the school holidays? I can come down to Tokyo. If you like, no one else has to come. You can tell me what's on your mind and ask for advice, and I'll do my best to help. You won't have to clam up because of the company."
He stares up at you with large blue eyes. You think he's disappointed because he wanted private career counselling? While you couldn't be further from the truth, it does make his heart squeeze unreasonably tight. He's Gojo Satoru, the most powerful sorcerer alive, reputed as perfect and confidently assured in everything... Yet here you are, treating him like a normal high school student with fears and worries of his own. You want him to eat good food, get enough sleep, and do well in classes. Yes, he's strong, but you neither worship him nor coddle him.
With you, he's not the Six Eyes. Not the Limitless. He's just Satoru, loud and mischievous with an obsession for anything sweet.
You refuse to let him crumble to weight and pain like so many of your peers have. You watched them isolate themselves and wave off your concern with a scoff, just to be haunted by what they run from. Because they are protectors, they can't show vulnerability, lest others begin to doubt them.
"Really?" Satoru whispers, and as much as he wants to, he can't set aside the churning emotion in his chest for simple boyish excitement over an intimate dinner.
You care for him. You really, really care for him, seeing beyond the weapon that he is.
You nod, leaning against the pillar on the engawa with one hand in your pocket. "I think you'd benefit from it. My students tell me I fret like a mother hen, but I get the feeling that having a real, honest chat with someone would do you some good. Of course, if you don't care for that kind of talk, we can always just catch up. What do kids like these days? Movies? Super Mario?"
"I like Digimon," he says softly.
"Digimon? That's different from Pokémon, right?"
He nods, still wide-eyed. Suddenly, he throws himself at you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle. He buries his head in your chest.
You laugh, startled, but you rest your arms around his shoulders anyway. "Satoru? Everything okay?"
"'M just really gonna miss you, sensei," he sniffles, his voice thick with emotion. "Damn it, it's so not fair that Kyoto gets you every day! Those dummies don't deserve you."
"Don't be mean, Satoru," you chastise, patting his back gently. "I'm not vanishing off the face of the earth, you know. You'll see me again."
"Next year's way too long," he mutters, arms tightening around you. "Even Christmas is too far. But you promise you'll come down then, right? I'm staying on campus so I'll be free every single day." Just for you, he doesn't say. "Isn't like I'll have anything more important to do."
"Then I'll let your principal know a few weeks in advance and ask him to tell you the date. That alright?"
He pulls back and nods eagerly, his thousand-watt smile almost blinding. Date! You said date! Not in the way he wishes it was, but he'll be getting ready at the asscrack of dawn regardless. He's already thinking up outfit ideas and fretting about his 'needed-a-cut-a-month-ago' hair.
He feels like he's on cloud nine. Surely Suguru won't mind being kidnapped for an hour or three while he gushes about you like a lovesick idiot, right?
—
Ten years later, Satoru stands in front of a small, mossy shrine a few steps off the forest path. Below the mountain sits the beleaguered village, quiet at this time of night and heavy with superstitious fear. Apparently they're being haunted by a grade one curse, but if Satoru is being honest, he's having a hard time coaxing it out of hiding so he can validate those reports. It seems that it only comes out when it stands a chance against unarmed and frail old villagers.
With a long-suffering sigh, he kicks a tuft of grass and shoves his hands into his pockets, scrunching his nose up at the scent of someone cooking a really good soup, carried up the hill by the rustling wind.
"Ugh, I'm hungry," he whines to the open air, nearly stomping his foot during his tantrum. "Can you just come out, already? I'm going to die of starvation before you manage to do anything. Ughhh."
Suddenly, a hand pops over his shoulder, holding an unusual-looking talisman between two fingers. He glances at it, surprised.
"Burn it," you say simply. You smile, those oh-so familiar eyes of yours crinkling with mirth. "Hello, Satoru. Been a while, hasn't it?"
Satoru stares. Then, with an excited squeal, he launches himself into your arms, kicking his feet up behind him and putting his whole weight on you. You don't stumble or even have to shift your footing, simply wrapping one arm around his middle with a hum.
"Sensei!" he gasps, feet paddling in the air. "Oh my god, hi! Hello! I missed you so much, sensei, you don't even know!"
You chuckle, a soft rumble that reverberates through your chest and sends shivers up Satoru's spine. Your hair is dashed frosty silver through your temples, and the crow's feet around your eyes are deeper when you laugh – Satoru's heart races even faster.
You smell good, too, your cologne warm and inviting with notes of cedarwood. You've changed it in the last ten years; it used to be lighter – blue – and it's not so much a betrayal of his memory of you than it is a logical evolution. You're older now, calmer. Makes sense that your signature smell is less 'soda on the beach' and more 'coffee by the fireplace'.
He's getting ahead of himself. He never did manage to catch you in the workplace – you were needed wherever he was not, and those assignments rarely overlapped.
"Hey, kid," you greet, releasing your hold on your cursed energy. Once it's no longer suppressed, Satoru recognises you immediately, warm and constant like a good hug, and his grin grows wider as he giggles and tightens his arms around your shoulders. "You havin' trouble with this curse?"
"No," he denies immediately, trying to ignore how your voice is rougher now than when you were a teacher. There's a low, pleasant gravel to it – he assumes it isn't a permanent change. Probably just tiredness, given the plane ticket stub poking out of your pocket. London? Geez. He can sympathise with those long flight hours.
He continues, "It's just embarrassed 'cause it's so much weaker than me. Where'd you get the talisman?"
"Someone from the village gave it to me. Said it was how they began their prayers to ensure the gods were listening. Try it their way – rites like this usually contain pieces of truth."
The case file never mentioned local customs. It also advised staying away from the villagers because they were snappy and suspicious of outsiders and would impede a sorcerer's work – you appeared to ignore that paragraph completely. Getting difficult people to work with you seemed to be your specialty.
Reluctantly, Satoru puts his feet back on the ground, taking the offered paper talisman and inspecting it. It doesn't seem particularly interesting, certainly not like it could summon a cursed spirit, but he's seen much weirder things. Maybe all the weirdness has been like exposure therapy for him, because he doesn't even question the idea.
"Did the higher-ups send you?" he asks curiously as he snaps his fingers and lights the paper on fire. It burns efficiently, bright orange swallowing curled blackened edges until only a corner remains. Satoru lets go, and the flames consume the remnants of the fluttering talisman before it touches the ground.
"Mm. Apparently, you've been acting extra rebellious recently, which they don't think too highly of. I'm here to supervise and report back." You push one hand into the pocket of your casual clothes. Satoru feels a flicker of annoyance spark in his chest. Can't they let you at least go home to shower after a fourteen-hour flight?
"Oh, that! Ha-ha. Did you hear about Sukuna's vessel?"
Recognition flashes in your gaze. "Yes, actually. That's part of the reason why they requested my return so suddenly. They say you've delayed the kid's execution until he consumes every finger. Is that true?"
"Affirmative," he says, playfully saluting. "He's my student at the Tokyo campus. You can't have him."
"I wouldn't want him in Kyoto, anyway. Gakuganji would probably try to kill him in his sleep, and I'm no longer there to oppose him." You glance around when your skin prickles. The wind whispers through the dark branches, picking up speed. "Feel that?"
"Yup," he says, popping the 'p' as cursed energy gathers in the air. He grins, eyes sparkling under his blindfold. He loops his arm through yours and grabs your hand, trying not to giggle nervously at the feeling of your muscles beneath your shirt. You're so tall and broad... Your thigh's the size of his waist, he realises as you stand shoulder-to-shoulder. He blushes so hard he feels dizzy.
He stands up on his toes to whisper in your ear. "Can you kill it for me, sensei?" he pleads, a cute pout on his glossy lips. Of course he'd wear lipgloss to a rural countryside exorcism. "I'm scared."
You give him a look. "No, you're not."
He blows a raspberry. "I'm tired?"
"You're not."
"Senseiii," he whines, tugging your sleeve as the curse manifests from the shadowy undergrowth, too many eyes flicking and rolling white like a terrified horse. "Please kill it for me! It's so ugly I'm gonna cry. I really will! You don't want your favourite student to cry, do you?"
You can't help but smile as Satoru cowers behind your shoulder, peeking out behind your arm and giving a dramatic little yelp when the curse scuttles closer on long, spider-like legs. A dozen eyes blink open on the legs, all pivoting towards you.
"Ew! Ew ew ew, sensei, it's getting closer!"
"Alright, alright, you big baby. Stay here," you chuckle, patting his spiky white hair. He pouts up at you as you mess it up, whining miserably.
"Hey! I spent a long time on that!"
You drop his hand. He opens his mouth to bawl about it, but his words get stuck in his throat as you dash towards the bus-sized curse.
You're barely a blur as you fight, and Satoru doesn't flinch as an insectoid leg goes flying over his head and pierces a tree behind him, making its roots shudder in the earth. He waves his hands like he's at a concert, smoothly sidestepping a section of carapace as it sails past him like a frisbee. "Whoa! Go, sensei, go! Ten outta ten, what a thrilling performance!" He claps as he watches you exorcise the curse, pinning its writhing body under a boot and wrenching off its head with a grunt and a flex of your biceps. Your jacket sleeves are putting up a better fight than the curse.
You toss the head aside with a deep sigh and step away. You glance up, wiping purple blood off your cheek with a playful wink. "Who's your daddy?" you tease, beckoning him closer with a curl of your fingers.
His knees almost give out from under him.
Satoru's on you before the curse dissolves into nothingness – he wraps his arms around yours, propping his chin on the corner of your shoulder. "You are," he says dreamily, nearly tripping over himself as you begin to walk back down the hill side-by-side. "Ahh, you're so cool, sensei... You saved my life."
You toss your head back to laugh, and Satoru's blush darkens as he admires your features. He's never been gladder for the blindfold as his gaze trails down to your lips. "You don't have to call me that anymore, Satoru. We're co-workers now, aren't we?"
He swings your hand in his own, taking little skipping steps so he brushes against you more often. "It feels weird to call you by your first name, and last names are so formal... I like calling you sensei."
You hum. "Alright, if that's what you prefer. Oh – I nearly forgot. I've got some news for you."
"You got married?" he says immediately, devastated. He clamps your arm closer to his chest.
"No, Satoru," you laugh, "I'm still single. No, I'll be based in Tokyo until Sukuna is defeated. I'm residing on campus. That's my news. I guess you got your wish after all, hm?"
Silence. Then an ear-piercing wail.
"Senseiii...!" he cries. Without a moment's notice, Satoru jumps into your arms, wrapping his limbs around you and burying his face in your shoulder where your cologne is strongest. "Sensei, this is amazing! 'M never letting you leave ever again! Never ever, okay?"
Chuckling softly, you pause to set him down. You continue towards the car on the edge of the village together, with him skipping along as he grasps your sleeve. When you try to unravel your arms to reach for your keys, however, he makes a distressed noise, locking his limbs tighter around you.
He really is a big baby, you think fondly. Shifting Satoru to free up your side, you eventually get the passenger door open and slide him inside, guiding him down on the leather seat as gently as a princess. He beams up at you, happily belting himself in, and hunts down the AUX cord in the glove box as you close his door and round the car to the driver's side.
He blasts S&M by Rihanna and half a dozen Lady Gaga songs on the ride back to campus. You wonder if he's trying to tell you something.
—
Satoru has been having the time of his life. Not even the situation regarding Sukuna could bring him down – he skips through the halls like a character in a musical, smile widening and his demeanour shifting whenever he crosses your path. He never denies the opportunity to run up to you and ramble about anything and everything, even walking in a completely opposite direction to his goal just to linger a little longer by your side.
If he had any shame, it'd be horrifically pathetic behaviour. He's lucky you think it's sweet.
Late one night, Satoru is alone in his office cubby, systematically grading tests. The room is silent, not a single soul left, and all he can hear is the scratch of his pen and his own breathing.
A gentle knock resounds at the door. "Hey, Satoru."
He perks up at the sound of your voice, a smile automatically creeping across his face. He clicks his pen and twists in his office chair. "Oh! Hi, sensei. It's late, you know. What're you doing here?"
You lift a brow, entering the room. The door swings shut behind you. "I was about to ask you the same thing. You doing alright?"
He nods agreeably. "Yep, peachy. Just couldn't really sleep, and I thought getting a head start on my work would be more productive than four hours of phone time in bed. If I had any more than a handful of students, though, phone time sounds infinitely more manageable."
Humming, you step closer and reach out to place a white plastic bag on his desk. The ends are tied to make bunny ears. "Quite mature of you. I, uh, brought you some food – I didn't see you eat today, and while I know you could've just teleported elsewhere for lunch, I just couldn't shake the thought. You don't often buy proper meals when you're alone, either – it's always candy or sweet treats, things easily eaten on the go. Plus, I remember how much you liked yakisoba, so..."
You trail off your rambles, nudging the bag closer toward him. He continues to stare at you, lips parted, as you push your hands into your pockets and rock on your heels. Heat crawls up his neck.
"You noticed that?" he asks softly, tilting his head and sitting straighter in his chair.
"Of course I noticed – when you're the only one not eating, it makes you stand out a little. You can always keep the food for tomorrow, but I thought I'd just pop by. You have a lot on your plate and I wanted to make sure you're not burning yourself out."
How were you so perfect? In this cruel world where human lives are currency and children are taught to kill, how did you manage to retain such gentleness? Such... humanity?
It was easy to forget he was a person. People turned to him for reassurance and safety, turning him into something bigger than life: a protector, a saviour, a shield. Sometimes he fears he'll lose himself – his morals, his opinions on mundane things, everything that makes him human – and become something as scary as Tengen: alive for one purpose. Sequestered away until needed. Known only for what they can provide.
Alone until the end.
Satoru stands, placing his pen down, and wraps his arms around you. He doesn't jump on you, doesn't squeeze you until you wheeze – just a firm, gentle hug, every available inch of him pressed against you as if to lock you in place and keep you from leaving.
He sniffles. Silly Satoru. You'll never leave when he needs you.
"Hey?" You place your hands on his back, patting him. "Not getting sentimental over some street food, are we?"
"I am," he laughs wetly. He buries his face in your shoulder. "I'm crying over yakisoba. It's so stupid."
Even this is a little embarrassing for Satoru. He really had no walls at all around you – just pure unguarded openness.
Your arms close around him, stroking his shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous. A good meal is worth crying over."
He laughs again, airy and soft. He gives you one last squeeze before stepping back, his fingers dropping until they entwine shyly with your own. You glance down at them, but don't pull away.
"Can you stay with me, sensei? Just for a bit. I don't really wanna be alone right now," he murmurs.
You tilt your head at him, watching him closely. He swings your hands between your bodies idly.
"Alright," you agree, reaching up to rest a hand on his shoulder. You squeeze, offering a reassuring smile, and move past him to steal a neighbouring chair. You cruise your fingers over the bookshelf against the wall, picking out some academic text about the Tokyo region's topography at random. "I'll go before midnight, though, and I'm not leaving you here. Trust me when I say that overtime like this isn't a habit you want to make."
He nods, sitting back down and opening up the plastic bag. He peeks inside and lets out a satisfied sigh as he reaches in, rustling around for the disposable chopsticks and pulling out the clear plastic box, warm to the touch. "I won't. Thanks, sensei."
Cracking open the book, you settle into the chair. "Anytime, Satoru."
As promised, an hour later, you pull Satoru away from his desk. You place a hand on his back to keep him from running off, and he trots happily by your side as you lead him towards your car. He doesn't use one regularly on account of his abilities, generally finding them time-consuming and restricting. So many rules to obey.
For you, though, he'd suffer through anything.
He pulls you past the threshold of his apartment before you can protest; he shuts the door and leans back against it so you can't escape. He wears an unusually apprehensive expression.
"Sensei," he begins softly. "Can I ask you something?"
Your attention flicks down to his arms, folded around his middle. Self-soothing? "What is it, Satoru?"
Technically, he's just kidnapped you. Into his house. You don't seem particularly concerned despite the fact that he could spaghettify you in a blink.
He sighs, nibbling on his lower lip. He tugs his blindfold below his chin and ruffles his hair, stunning blue eyes flitting over your features with full clarity. His cheeks warm. "I think you know already that I really like you... as something other than a friend or co-worker."
"Oh. I do, yes."
Your lack of judgement bolsters his confidence. He straightens up, taking a deep breath. "So... if I were to, um, ask to kiss you... what would you do?"
Your eyes widen, and you pause to mull it over. He holds his breath. Then you offer a small shrug. "Why don't you find out?"
"Really? You mean it?" His heart somersaults when you nod. He barely refrains from jumping for joy. "C-Can I kiss you, YN-san?"
"Sure, Satoru." Your eyes are soft, obliging. "You may."
Like a little firework, he launches forward, lips crashing against yours. You catch him like always, but this time you place your hands on his waist in new, intimate ways.
It's happening. It's really happening. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, making you hum softly and raise your hand to rest in the small of his back.
When you part, Satoru wears the widest, giddiest smile you've ever seen on him. It beats the time when he demolished your entire second-year class during training – you were watching and even congratulated him on his improvements afterwards. He pants softly, glancing down at your lips hopefully.
"You kiss well," you say approvingly, and Satoru nearly melts on the spot. "Have you had much experience?"
"Just a couple times. None were as important as this." He flashes a nervous smile. "This is the first time where it matters what the other person thinks."
"Oh, please. You'll make me blush." You rest your palms low on his waist, massaging his hipbone. "Satoru, are you sure you want me?" you ask in a low, careful murmur. "I'm old enough to be your father."
"Please don't say that if you want me to stay away. It has the opposite effect."
You bark out a laugh and shake your head in disbelief. He grins in return. "You're something else, Satoru. Something else entirely."
He answers with another kiss. God, he remembers dreaming about this every night, wishing he could see you more than once a year. That innocent desire faded with time, but recently, upon your return, he's been plagued with reckless dreams of a bare-chested figure above him, pressing him into the sheets and making him take and take and take until he wakes in a hot rush, breaths sharp and laboured. He can never quite remember the face, but those strong, large hands cradling him are unmistakable. All he's left with are a needy ache and a name: daddy.
It's fucked up, Satoru thinks as he plays with your silver-dashed hair, well-maintained. He gasps as you push him back against the door with a quiet thud, moaning against your lips. It's so fucked up that he chases your authority even when you're equals.
There's probably quite a bit to unpack there, but what does it matter? You're kissing him, and you're letting him feel you up under your t-shirt. That's enough of a dopamine rush to tide him over for the next few weeks.
He can feel the strength rippling beneath his touch, your muscles flexing as he pushes your shirt higher to expose your stomach and chest, and he pulls away to admire them with a debauched moan. With a shaking hand, he reaches for your lower stomach. Your skin is warm – he traces your happy trail with awe, breath hitching when his fingers dip into your belt. Dazed, he cups your chest in one hand and plays with your happy trail in the other.
"Having fun?" you murmur, amused.
Satoru blinks himself out of his trance. He turns bright red. "S-Sorry! You're just so—" He gestures vaguely towards you. "Big..."
"Yeah?" Teasingly, you place his hand on the front of your jeans, making him whine softly at the implication. You kiss the spot below his ear. "Does that excite you?"
He nods so hard his head threatens to fall off. You laugh, crow's feet deepening, and Satoru nearly forgets his name.
"Cute," you comment, tucking his hair behind his ear as you brace a hand against the door by his head, a classic pose he's sure you're doing on purpose to make him yelp. "What do you want me to do to you tonight, Satoru? Remember, tomorrow's still a weekday. Can't have you limping everywhere."
Weekday? Who cares if it's a weekday? Satoru's not giving up this chance. "Want you to fuck me," he whispers, gulping as you nibble at the side of his neck. It tickles and pinches, and heat zips down his spine and pools between his legs. "Want it hard and rough."
"Didn't I say I don't want you limping tomorrow?" You lift a brow.
Satoru clutches the front of your shirt, whining as he presses his lips against yours to sweeten the deal. "I can heal it," he protests, though he knows he won't. Why break what you fix? "Please. I'll be good."
Your eyes flash, and his heart skips a beat. You liked that.
"That so?" you mutter, hand tightening on his hip. "You gonna be a good boy for me, Satoru?"
He swallows the whine that threatens to slip out. He bobs his head desperately. "Mhm, your good boy! I'll do whatever you want as long as you fuck me. Want you to make me yours."
"Mine," you repeat, playing with a lock of his snowy hair. Your eyes flicker to his. "Could you handle being mine? Just look at you – delicate little thing, already hard from a couple of kisses. Might end up breaking you if I'm not careful."
His fists twist in your shirt, knuckles white. He's already panting hard, deep pools of blue fixed on you. His hips shuffle against your thigh, and he squeezes his eyes shut with a choked whimper as you press roughly into him.
You tilt his chin up with your finger and rest your temple against his, your lips brushing his ear. "Cat got your tongue, baby?"
His hips jerk, his cock throbbing in his pants. He gnaws on his inner cheek, grinding roughly into your denim-clad thigh. The inside of his zipper digs into his shaft. "Hn – s-sorry... I can han-handle it. You can break me... i-if you want," he whispers. "As long as I can keep kissing you, I don't mind what you do to me."
He's going to be the death of you.
"Satoru." Your voice is gentler now. He blinks, straightening slightly. "Is this your first time?"
He squeaks, trying valiantly to push aside his lust to dig up the correct memory. "Ah, y-yeah... I never had time to go all the way with someone." He peers up at you from beneath snowy white lashes. "I like that you'll be my first, though. I want you to take control."
"You like giving in to me, do you?"
He bites his lower lip and nods, playing with your collar as he gazes up at you. "Mhm. Makes me feel good."
"Oh, I can do that."
Satoru grins and leans up to kiss you, hands resting on your biceps, and he lets out a soft moan as you tug his clothes off and toss them over the nearest barstool by the kitchen island. Soon he's down to just his socks; he'd tried something similar with you, but he'd gotten completely distracted when your shirt came off. He couldn't stop touching you long enough to shed your clothes.
He squirms against the back of his front door, gasping as you hike one of his legs over your hip. He flinches when your jeans rub against his bare, swollen cock, the rough material and cold steel zipper sending sparks up his spine.
You admire his cock, sweetly flushed and leaking. You take it into your hand and his heel digs into the back of your leg as you pump him, smearing his pre into the hollow of your fist and making the glide wetter and easier. You lean in and kiss him – his eyes flutter shut.
His back arches as you squeeze his length. He sucks in a sharp breath, moaning into your mouth. Scrambling, he reaches for your belt and fumbles it open. "Ah, fuckfuckfuck – your hand feels really good—"
You glance down at his throbbing, leaky cock in your palm, engulfed completely. If you close your fist, you can't see it at all. Satoru gulps, stomach flexing at the sight, and precome dribbles down his tip. He lifts his eyes pleadingly, tugging ineffectively at your belt with clammy hands.
"So needy," you say – not meanly, but Satoru's gut still clenches – and you use one hand to flick your belt buckle free. Immediately, he moves on to your zipper. "I've barely touched you."
"I just—" he stutters as he reaches into your jeans, gliding against the warm bulge that fills his palm. "Don't be mean, sensei."
You chuckle. "Alright, princess." You don't give him time to respond before you grasp his wrist, pulling it out of your pants. "Let's not have your first time in the hallway. Bedroom?"
You can't keep doing this to him! Talking about breaking him, calling him princess, then being all gentlemanly about his first time? He's going to die! Or come. He's not sure yet.
Satoru's head bobs in assent as he takes you by the hand, dragging you hastily through his apartment. It's smaller than you thought he'd go for, cosier – and it's not a penthouse, which also comes as a surprise, given his wealth. Eight floors up, he's far enough from the street to not be constantly assaulted by the sounds of traffic, but not so high that all he sees are clouds and flashing neon billboards.
As you step into his bedroom, you wonder if you're the first person he's allowed inside. He hastily shoves unfolded laundry into his closet and shuts the door before it can fall out, then pulls you down onto the bed, leaning up to kiss you.
"Do you have protection?" he asks, a little nervously. He's never said those words in his life, and saying them now makes it all the more real. "I mean, I could probably alter Infinity to act like it, but I've never tried that before so—"
With a grin, you pull a black square from your wallet. He sighs in relief.
"Oh, good, thank god. Yeah, what was I thinking, using Infinity as a condom? Ha-ha, that was embarrassing..."
You move closer, letting him tug at your jeans. "Innovation isn't weird, Satoru."
He pouts as he slides your pants down your thighs. "Don't call it innovation... 'S far too clean a word for what I wanted to do with it."
"Maybe it's my age talking, but you get shy over the smallest of things. Funny, for someone who acts so shameless with others. Didn't you beg one of your coworkers to take you out to dinner?"
His cock jerks. "Don't... Don't keep talking about your age. Please."
"Hm?" Your gaze rakes his slender body, and you take his jaw firmly in one hand, lifting his face so he can't avoid your eyes. His breathing stutters as he grasps your wrist, eyes wide. Your voice is low, a warning. "Did my boy just try telling me what to do?"
His mouth waters and he swallows harshly, gripping his own thigh so hard he leaves red crescents in his skin. "No. No, sir, I'm sorry."
His voice is breathy, easily dispersed in the cool bedroom air. You inspect him, checking for lies, but you find nothing that indicates he's only saying what you want to hear. Those big shiny eyes tell you that he truly is remorseful.
Satoru seems surprised when you let go of his jaw without punishment. He squeaks when you grab one ankle in each hand and tug his legs apart. Instinctively, he tries to pull his thighs together, only to moan when you yank them apart with more force.
Kneeling at the end of the bed, you pry his pale thighs open and examine him coolly. He whimpers and covers his face, already growing hot with embarrassment, and his pink hole twitches as it comes into contact with the air.
"What's this, princess?" Your thumb presses against his puffy rim, shiny with lube. His breath catches in his throat. "Did you plan on bringing someone home tonight? Tsk tsk, Satoru. I thought you liked me."
He mewls as your thumb threatens to slip inside. He shakes his head, burying himself in too many pillows. "No! No. I just – I t-touched myself a bit, okay? When I couldn't sleep. It didn't, um, w-work..."
"So you're a filthy little thing, then."
"No!" He sounds devastated. He sniffles behind his hands. "Nnh... Y-You're so mean, sir..."
"Oh, sweetheart." You sigh, feigning disappointment. "Did you even manage to come?"
He bites his lip and shakes his head meekly.
"Why? Fingers not long enough?" Teasingly, you entwine your hand with his, and he shudders as yours envelops his wholly. He's not small by any means, but fuck... He can't even speak.
"How about I give you something smaller to start with, then?" you hum lightly. "Give you a little taste-test?"
He whimpers. He clutches your arms and nods so intensely he makes himself dizzy. You smile and peck his nose.
You drag him towards you and flip him over with just your hands, making a soft cry spill from his lips at the show of strength. He gasps as you spread his ass with your palms and lean closer, your intentions made crystal clear. His insides clench as your tongue – hot, wet, and firm – begins to circle his rim.
"Oh," he gasps, hips jerking backwards onto your face. His arms tremble beneath him. "Oh, mmh – f-feels weird, feels really weird!"
"Just relax, sweetheart. When you get over the embarrassment and focus on the pleasure, you'll feel better. I promise."
He's glad you can't see his face. He mumbles, "I-It already feels good..."
"See? Already doing so well for me. Don't be nervous. I got you."
He moans as your tongue flicks against his hole lightly, tempting him to push his hips back to chase more. He caves to the desire, sighs and gasps escaping his lips as you spread his cheeks and bury your face in his ass.
Your stubble scratches pleasingly against his soft, sensitive inner thighs. It sends hot sparks up his spine and out to his limbs, making his toes curl and his fingers dig into the bedsheets. You press into him deeper and your tongue slips inside his rim.
His back arches. He lets out a sharp sob, fisting the sheets so hard they threaten to rip. He shoves his hips back, your writhing tongue reaching new depths and making his cock spurt.
"Mmh, daddy!"
Immediately, he claps a hand over his mouth, horrified. He glances over his shoulder, but you're not glaring at him in disgust. In fact, you haven't pulled away at all, and the only reason he knows that you heard is because of the way you suddenly eat him out more fervently, hands pushing and pulling at his creamy thighs and ass until his legs are shaking. You groan into his skin, hungrier the more you devour him, and Satoru keens, burying his face into the sheets to hide the heat in it.
Heart pounding in his chest, his lips part, quivering with nerves as his voice comes out in a whisper. "'M gonna c-come, daddy..."
In response, he receives a low, raspy groan and a tongue that thrusts deeper inside him, licking the inner edge of his rim. It's joined soon by your thumb – he mewls as it slowly pushes in and pulls out, gently stretching him open.
The pleasure and the shame light a fire in his stomach, ecstasy hot, heavy, and sharp like a poker. His body feels uncharacteristically weak, disobeying his orders to hold steady – it's all he can do to stay propped up on his hands and knees, his hips twitching shyly to force your tongue deeper inside him.
You pull away and a sound of distress pierces the room, high and desperate. He burns red. It's far louder than he expected.
"Easy, princess," you chuckle, licking your lips and dragging your thumb over the corner of your mouth. His hole feels wet and tender, hypersensitive – there's a lingering tingle on his inner thighs where the scratch of your stubble had him clenching and shoving his ass into your face.
He shudders, lips jutted out in forlorn shame as the depravity of his own actions catches up to him. You're eating his ass. His dick is inches away from your face – the one he's imagined countless times kissing him all over and telling him how loved he is. It feels corrupting, taking his dreams and twisting them into icky fantasies about his dick in your mouth and his come on your broad chest.
He squeezes his eyes shut, panting harder as you press two fingers, then three, inside him to the first knuckle. No, Satoru, don't imagine coming on your face! Don't imagine your face buried below his cock!
Fuck. He's imagining it. His dick pulses in time with his heartbeat as his nails claw the sheets, a string of sobbed whines torn from his throat. He arches like a cat, hips chasing your mouth with trembling jerky movements, and comes like a truck, nearly screaming as your hand swiftly attaches to his cock and jerks him off. He shudders, eyes damp and blurry, as each movement, backwards or forwards, brings him to a new high.
Finally, he collapses onto the bed, arms too weak to hold himself up. You pull away, kissing his twitching hole, and gently guide him to lie on his back, his long legs limp and spread apart. His flushed, pretty cock twitches against his pale stomach, a messy trail of come shiny all the way up to his chest. His lip quivers when you roll the condom over your length, his dick jerking to life and already weeping.
Huh. Youths these days have so much energy.
He sighs in pleasure as you settle between his legs and lean down to kiss him, making him taste himself on your tongue. He moans with reddened cheeks.
"Good boy, baby, you did so well for me," you murmur, and he shudders hard, gripping your shoulders. He glances down, swallowing the gathering saliva in his mouth. You're not wearing any pants. You catch him staring and you grin as you take yourself into one hand, stroking yourself and slapping your thick tip against his balls. He flinches, biting back a needy moan. "Want it, Satoru?"
"Please," he nearly weeps, reaching down and pulling his hardening cock and balls out of the way. They fit comfortably in his slender pianist's hand. He arches his back. "I want it, daddy. I want it so bad! F-Fuck me, please."
Then, he feels you press against his puffy entrance, big and thick and heavy. It twitches against him, and as it presses forward, his bravado absolutely shatters, a pitiful whine echoing off his bedroom walls.
"Wait! 'S'too big, it's never gonna fit," he sobs, pushing weakly against your shoulder. "It's too big, too much, oh, god..."
"I'm not even inside you yet," you say, a touch amused.
He takes a deep breath, his exhale shaky. He shifts on the bed. "Ah..." He gulps as he notices your cock resting against his stomach. "It really is big, daddy..."
"Yeah, baby. Think you can take it?"
He whines. "J-Just go slow, please...?"
"Mm, of course. Wanna hold hands?" Your voice is light, playful, as you offer one – he takes it, pouting slightly but appreciative. It's obvious how nervous he is.
You talk him through it, murmuring in his ear as you push in, making him gasp at the unfamiliarity. The stretch burns, but you take it slow enough that it doesn't hurt too much, and the tears that prick at his eyes are from pleasure rather than pain. His nails dig into your shoulders, his mouth perpetually open to pant and moan, and he's so tight you swear you can feel his heartbeat through his walls.
Squeezing your hand, his head falls back against the pillows, breathy moans puffing warmly on each exhale. You caress his soft thigh as you inch inside him, pausing and thrusting shallowly until his expression loses its edge. His hair sticks to his temples, dark silver with sweat.
Eventually, you pause deep inside him – so deep that with each breath, he can feel your dick shifting inside him. The idea makes him unreasonably needy. He's never going to feel as good with anyone else – not when his hole's perfectly shaped to fit your cock.
He reaches for your other hand, teary azure eyes glazed and glossy. Limp on the bed, he tenses every so often, desperately trying to stave off his high. What would you think of him if he came twice and you hadn't even come once?
"'S'it in...?" he slurs, eyelids fluttering. "Mmh, 'm so full..."
Your mouth twitches in a sympathetic smile. "Not quite, baby. Just a little more, okay? Can you do that?"
He lets out a choked whimper but nods, gripping your hands. You shift, leaning on your knuckles with his fingers entwined with yours, and ever-so-gently bury yourself inside him to the hilt with a soft plap.
Satoru's jaw drops as his eyes widen. Your hips are pressed against his ass, your balls hot and velvety against his skin – that's all of you inside him. This is how big your dick is. When he clamps down, he can feel you pulsing inside him, hot and hungry deep in his belly.
When he looks down, his mind goes fuzzy – there's a slight bump in his stomach that moves as you do. He sniffles and lets out a hiccuped sob as he presses down on it, the pressure setting his nerves alight with bliss. He raises his clouded eyes to yours, so full he can barely breathe, and comes with a silent scream, body seizing up and eyes rolling as thick ropes of white spurt onto his stomach and chest, dripping down the split of his chest and gathering in the dips of his heaving stomach.
He throws his head back against the bed. He lets out a belated cry, loud and ruined, as his hips jerk and his hole milks your cock with rippling waves, his walls slick and hot like oil.
He cries out when you begin to move, your shaft tugging his swollen rim with every thrust.
"Oh – fuck, fuck," he half-sobs, wrapping his shaking legs tighter around your waist. His breath catches in his throat as you tug him closer, holding his hips up to fuck into him at another angle – harder, faster, deeper. Your balls slap his ass. "Fuuuck...!"
You hiss, low grunts drowned out by Satoru's constant whiny moans. "Shit, boy, got a dirty mouth on you. This is what you wanted, isn't it? I told you I might break you. Have I got you hooked already?"
The speed and vigour with which he nods makes his head spin. He clutches your wrists on his waist, your callused warm palms firm on his ass, and feels so damn small as you fuck into him, jostling his body back and forth as if he weighs half of what he does.
"Yes, daddy," he mewls, body rolling in a clumsy attempt to match your pace. He gives up after a few tries, too busy drooling over your dick to spare the brain power for anything else. He's perfectly pliable, taking you like he was made for it. The outline of your cock shifts in his stomach. "Ah, mm – only w-want your cock, only ever wanted you, daddy! Awh, fuck, 'm gonna come again—!"
You grab his jaw and force him to look at you, making him cry out as you fold him further in half. His cock bounces above his stomach, painfully red and leaking fervently despite the ample mess already glazing his stomach.
"That right, Satoru? You never thought about picking up a boy your age with that pretty face of yours?" you ask softly, and he shudders at the use of his name. It feels far more intimate. 'Baby' makes his thoughts melt, but his name has an extra layer to it that sharpens the pleasure – he's got years' worth of memories where you call out to him, and hearing it now while you drill into his ass reminds him of how he used to feel about you.
"N-No," he whimpers, tongue darting out to wet his lips. His glossy eyes flit between your face and the bulge in his tummy. "W-Wanted a real man's cock t-to – hahh – pop my cherry." He giggles dreamily, his hands twisting the pillow under his head. "Nnh—! S-So fucking good, daddy," he slurs, voice thick with bliss. His eyes are half-lidded, the whites showing as you crush his swollen prostate, every drag making his thighs jolt. The sheer size of you means you're almost constantly pressing against it, and Satoru swears he can feel your dick in his damn brain.
You let him slump back to the sheets, picking up the pace. He huffs sharply as you hook his knees over your elbows. He can't tell if he's dizzy from a lack of air or from coming relentlessly. Regardless, he feels like he's floating, and he really wishes he'd chased you down at work so he could've gotten this treatment earlier. Years of missing out... he has to make up for it, doesn't he?
You can barely recognise Satoru. Usually so chatty and composed, he can no longer string together a single proper sentence without stuttering. And Satoru never stutters. You're probably not helping by knocking the wind out of him, but he looks so adorably helpless that you can't gather the strength to pity him. It isn't as if he can't handle it – he giggles between shouts and moans, locking his ankles behind your back to keep you from pulling out too far. Seems as if he enjoys being filled so completely.
"Oh, sweetheart – can't resist a cock like mine, huh? If only you could see yourself right now." You go to say more, but you cut yourself off, mulling over your words. You glance at his wardrobe's mirrored sliding doors, and an idea pops into your head. You grab him like a doll and pivot, making him gasp, and twist a fist in his hair, pinning his head to the side.
"Take a nice long look, sweetheart," you murmur as he babbles, eyes wide and wet as he watches your dick disappear into his hole over and over again. "Look how needy you are, taking all my cock like a champ – you sure you're a virgin? Couldn't've guessed an ass so greedy would've never tasted cock."
Satoru whimpers wetly, eyes trailing over his pale, flushed body, so slender under yours. Even your hand in his hair looks big compared to his head, your forearm thick and heavy. His dick weeps as it bounces against his stomach, and he can barely think, pounded into the mattress like a common whore. His lips are parted, one of his arms looped limply around your hand in his hair, and he lifts his trembling thigh against your shoulder to get a better glimpse of your thick cock sliding into him, every thrust making his ass ripple.
His moans grow louder, more desperate. He looks like such a slut! It's so embarrassing. He wants to close his eyes, look away, but you're watching him closely, making sure he takes it all in. He sniffles, whining, as you kiss his calf, his leg pinned high over your shoulder.
"Daddy," he gasps, voice pitching higher as his balls tighten and pleasure boils in his core. "Ohh, daddy, 'm coming! I love your dick so muh-much! Gonna come, gonna come, I c-can't hold it, fuck—!"
You pick him up only to shove him back into the bed, making him cry out in bliss as his tears wet the sheets. You hike his other leg onto your shoulder as well and he cries out as you fold him in half, slamming into his ass with relentless desire. He hiccups, eyes rolling back to show their whites as he comes hard, semi-clear fluid splattering his chest in long pulses.
You slap his thigh, making him warble out a drawled moan. "Eyes open," you order, and his lashes flutter as he forces his body to obey. "Watch yourself come."
He sobs as you fuck him harder, rougher, your pace losing its rhythm as you chase your high. He can barely keep his mirror's reflection in focus, and his gaze drifts from his body to yours – against your wishes, but he can't help it. Why would he look at himself when you're right there?
"Daddy," he whispers dreamily, voice high and soft and sweet as sugar. You growl as you thrust once, twice, and your high crashes over you as he tightens, walls rippling hungrily as he milks you, as if he can bypass the latex through willpower alone. He lets out a string of loud, sharp moans as he feels heat bloom inside him, your dick throbbing and twitching against his prostate and dragging out his own peak. Creamy warmth douses his stomach and drips down his sides.
Gently, you let go of him, bracing against the mattress as you lower his legs to the bed. They fall limply, his hole still clenching and hips still jerking, as you lean down and allow him to pull you into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, more panting than actual kissing. He moans as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, his whole body trembling as you lazily thrust into him, letting his mind catch up before you pull away completely.
"Still with me, baby?" you murmur, breath hot against his jaw. He giggles and nods, working his lower lip between his teeth, and sighs adoringly as you pull out of him with a hot, slick pop. He pouts, dazed and feeling all too empty all of a sudden. His hole throbs, stretched and gaped far wider than he's ever done by himself. It feels heavenly.
You toss the condom into the bin, moving to get up, but Satoru whines and curls himself around you, twisting you over and pinning you to the bed. He nuzzles into your shoulder, breathing in the sweet, musky scent of sex and body heat, and moans quietly, your bare cock pressed against his stomach. If he moves just right, he can grind against it, his dick twitching as his tip catches on the ridges and veins.
He swallows an unholy amount of saliva. Would you let him suck it next time?
Eventually, you let out a soft hum, your hands rubbing patterns into his waist. "Gotta clean up, Satoru."
"Don't wanna, daddy," he argues, words slurring as he holds you tighter. He buries his face in your shoulder, taking deep, slow breaths. "Jus' wanna... wanna stay here..."
And, just like that, he's snoring softly on top of you, out like a light with his limbs twisted with yours.
You chuckle, a low rumble in your chest, and gently shift his hips off to the side, letting you turn slightly to cradle him. "Really tired you out, hm?" At least he's no longer unable to sleep. You wonder if it'll become a regular thing to fix his insomnia – you can't promise you'll deny him if he ever asks for it again.
Your lips thin into a line as you lean back against the pillows. Oh, what's the harm? He deserves a little happiness in life, and if he finds that in you, then it'd be cruel to shake him off when you feel the same way.
Rather than standing up to collect your clothes, you tug the bedsheets over Satoru's waist and tuck his hair gently behind his ear. You slide an arm under your head and close your eyes, cradling him to your chest, and sink into a deep sleep to the soft sound of his breathing.
vampire reader who tries to avoid biting giyu but hes so pathetic actually he wants it soo bad and finally one day he snaps. pulls you on top of him and basically shoves your face into his neck. quietly begging for it cause you did it once out of necessity and he’s been fantasizing since. when he finally feels the sink of your teeth and the throbbing of the wound he literally shudders
the sensation of your lips latched around the bite suckling softly? oh his stomach does flips and his eyes flutter shut. so if his hands find your hips and he starts grinding your leg in the middle of it well.. you really can’t fault him :c
and maybe actually he doesn’t pull you onto him but climbs into your lap instead >< nothing changes tho he’s still just as needy
For as long as Renjun could remember, he was a terrible sleeper.
It started off lightly, little Renjun would wake up at nine at night randomly every couple of days. He’d wake up all energized and ready to talk for what seemed like ages for his mother, then he’d fall asleep after a few hours.
But as he aged, things quickly get out of hand. He gets sleepy at weird times in the day, dosing off at broad daylight or four in the afternoon. But can’t seem to get proper sleep at night. He’d wake up at midnight sometimes, most of the time he can’t sleep before one in the morning.
Renjun would get these dreams, he’d constantly get scenes of him crying. Well, he assumed it was him but it was a kid’s voice. This little kid would cry and cry, until he meets a figure, and his first dream would end in white light.
The second dream was of him hugging this figure, its body felt surreal. He felt more like himself, as if he wasn’t a kid anymore. The gesture felt very familiar, like he has done it thousands of times before. Only in this dream, that he can sleep for longer and better quality without his medications.
It felt like Renjun’s dreams were puzzle pieces, everytime he dreams, he unlocks another piece and life seems to tell him to put them together to know the bigger picture.
He deeply despises his sleeping habits. Why can’t Renjun just sleep? He wished to simply sleep like a normal human being. Dreamt normal dreams like a normal human being, not these cryptic nightmares waiting for him to solve.
Cold sweat. Renjun, again, wakes up from another dream. This time, it’s a new one.
renjun —> jeno
you —> renjun
“Thank you so much,” Renjun tiredly smiles, he can barely stand up but still tries to act alright in front of you. Surprisingly, you’ve been talking for 15 minutes, even after his cup of tea was boiled.
“It’s no problem. I would be anxious if you didn’t have proper medication.”
He laughs, it’s been a very long time since he felt this comfortable in his sleeping hours. The feeling of sleepiness came back, so did the warm, fuzzy feeling of his house.
“I’m actually feeling sleepy.” Renjun mumbles, slouching towards his bedroom.
“That’s good, I’ll be heading out now.”
He’s stunt back at how you could have heard him, but the thought is over looked by your announcement instead. “So soon?” Renjun stopped by the door, and peered over the door frame.
“It’s 1:40 am.” You showed your phone to him,
“Oh,” He looked at his cup of tea, “Right.”
“No worries, you’re not bothering.” You reassured, seeing the distressed person. You followed Renjun in to the bedroom, earning relief from him.
Renjun removed his slippers, dropped the mug down on the table and slipped in to bed. “What were you doing outside at this time?”
A faint pause in the conversation occurred, you pretended to space out for a bit. “I just didnt want to sleep.” You shrugged it off.
“That was insensitive. Wish I had that problem.” Renjun rolled his eyes.
“My bad you insomniac!” You playfully yelled at him.
Both presences laughed. While Renjun’s mind was running, somehow his insomnia was cured, he felt really sleepy with the presence of this person. But moreover, Renjun feels comfort. Odd, and familiar comfort. He doesn’t hate it at all, in fact his mind was fighting to stay awake to not miss out.
“Are you okay? You look really troubled.” You put the pills on his bedside table.
Renjun contemplates, for quite a time. “Are you sure we haven’t met?” He musters up the courage to ask.
“Were you trying to remember if we had meet before?” You say in a teasing tone.
“No.” Renjun turned over to the other side of the bed, covering his face with the blanket.
“Don’t lie now Renjun.” You smirked.
“Stop trying to read me!” Renjun curled even further in to a ball, covered by his blanket.
“I’m not!” You exclaimed.
“Yes you are!” He exclaimed back.
“Your troubled mind is making up things.”
“Just because I’m an insomniac doesn’t mean I’m crazy.”
“Mhm,” You nod, in amusement. “Whatever you say Renjun.”
He throws a pillow at your body, “Shut up!”
You laugh, catching the pillow.
Then, realized this person is in deep need of sleep. You slowly straighten the folds, then place it lightly on his bed next to the others. “I don’t want to keep you awake for too long.”
“Alright,” Renjun feels a wave of disappointment, “Get home safely.” He shook it off quickly.
You nod in agreement, intuitively raise out your hand to pat his head, but you fold back in to a fist, knowing you can’t just yet.
“Sleep well okay?” You press your lips in to a bittersweet smile. Leaving the bed, causing a sudden bounce, letting Renjun know that you left.
As you near the staircase leading to the exhibition, realization hits hard.
It’s just the biggest art showcase of the school year, only the whole university including teachers, parents and students from all courses attending. You can’t even guarantee that the bag would still be there for Shotaro.
Yeah, no big deal!
You take a deep breath, walk up the stairs confidently and take a right to reach the art exhibition hall. It’s a double door, somehow that makes you even more nervous. It’s okay, just keep your head down, grab the handle, push down and in.
There’s no one, thank goodness but the relief doesn’t last for too long. Immediately after you are bombarded with artworks from all sides of the room, from houses, fields to empty bedrooms. What a diverse pool of topics, you wished you paid more attention to the advertising on the outside boards. Maybe that would help you connect more to these great paintings. For now, you eye all of them quickly.
The questioning of theme turns in to curiosity towards a light shining on an empty wall. not entirely a wall, but it’s a huge empty space in the middle with no painting on it. There’s a nail, so there must be a painting incoming, it also must be the main one as how it is located. Perfectly in the line of sight of whoever walks in, maybe not Sungchan, but most of the population.
You stay fixated on that wall. You snap, realizing why you were there. You have to go get Sho’s bag. Right, where could that huge thing be-
You feel sudden contact on your right knee and shoulder. Not enough to make your vampire body feel pain, but enough to physically get pushed away. Your reflexes saved you from embarrassingly falling to the ground, instead your body slightly hits the door before gaining balance again.
“Fuck, are you okay?”
A soft voice appears from the collision side. The voice seems worried, especially with your quiet status right now. You can’t seem to grasp the familiarity from that ever so sweet voice that you space out, trying to remember where you’ve heard that before.
“Did I hit your head!?” The person drops their handle on the four-wheeled hand truck and rushes to your side.
You weren’t mad, somehow this person being an artist made you have some understanding for them. You’ve seen those been used by art students before. They’re handy for carrying materials up and down, after all there was so much supplies needed to experiment as an artist. It’s not like you got hurt anyways, why bother worry the already back-breaking artist?
“No no, I’m okay.” You smiled, looking up at their paint splattered clothing and small figure. Your smile turns in to hidden shock.
Fuck, now you know why his voice sounded so familiar.
It’s Huang Renjun.
Note: its been two years since I’ve written the first partsss, im actually going to finish this smau this time guys 💔💔
I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)
HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!
the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)
— sponsor | sub park sunghoon
tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship
you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.
the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.
you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.
a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.
when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape.
"aish..."
"ah, sorry."
"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.
"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.
"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"
"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.
he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."
"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."
"yes sir." he replies without much thought.
you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.
"you caught my eye in the performance."
he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."
"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that.
"oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.
"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."
his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"
you chuckle, "yes, really."
☆★☆
perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.
you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.
"did you see the spin?"
"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at.
"issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.
after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.
the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.
he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.
"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"
"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"
"yes."
you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.
☆★☆
navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.
"what are your expectations for me?"
and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.
"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."
he looked determined, continuing on.
"is sex on the table?"
he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...
"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.
"i see." he pulls back, shy again.
"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.
he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.
"i am."
☆★☆
and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.
training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.
"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.
"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.
it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.
sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.
but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.
you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.
you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.
gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.
and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.
☆★☆
you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.
“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”
you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.
“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”
“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.
“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.
“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”
he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.
“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”
you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”
he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.
“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.
“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”
your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”
he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.
“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.
“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.
“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding the his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.
“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.
“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.
“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.
not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.
“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.
“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?
“come for me hoonie, come for me.”
his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.
it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.
“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.
“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”
“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”
you guys share a look before laughing.
☆★☆
everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.
before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!
snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.
after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.
☆★☆
sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.
you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.
“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.
your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.
“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.
“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.
“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.
you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.
his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…
that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.
his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”
you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.
“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.
I really can’t get it out of my head oh my god. I want to grab it, i want to love it. Please. it’s driving me crazy so I wrote a short thing about it, please enjoy ~
GN! Enhypen member! Dom! Reader
Warning: degration, reader has a waist fixation, not fully clear consent, very suggestive, NSFW, sub! Jungwon, uhhhh Jay is mentioned
Imagine the first time he found out you like it, he was laying under you and you kept praising him and saying how beautiful his waist was. He had never realized that his waist was pretty, he never thought his waist was anything special, but it made his stomach flutter to think you were looking at him like that without him even noticing.
Imagine the morning after, him looking in the mirror, lifting up his shirt, spinning around a little to see it from different angles.
“Is it really that special?” He’d think to himself. Then he’d remember how you grabbed onto it and he would feel flustered and pull his shirt down.
After a few weeks he noticed more how you looked at him and touched him in public. Mindlessly resting your hands above his hips, insisting that you fix his belt when it is crooked, hands and glances lingering a bit too long to be completely innocent.
Soon he started focusing his choice of attire more on his waist when he knew you would be around, sometimes purposefully bumping into you or pushing his waist against you. With you both living in a dorm with the members, he also did this in front of the other guys to make you jealous.
Eventually, you snapped.
You were all trying on the clothes for your upcoming concert, making sure they fit well and everything. Jungwon was wearing a corset. And like the little shit he is, he asked Jay to help him instead of you, who were right there.
You felt your blood boil when Jay pulled at the strings and asked him if it was alright. “A little tighter is okay” jay pulled some more and Jungwon FUCKING MOANED.
“Hey, Jungwon can I get your help with something upstairs?” Both Jay and Won looked at you, like they were caught doing something bad, slightly started from your harsh tone.
As Jungwon followed you you grabbed his hand, gripping it harder with every step until you reached your room. You closed the door and pushed him against it harshly.
“What the fuck you do you think you’re doing slut?” Jungwon’s eyes widened but you could see a little smile.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I was just asking for help”
You looked at him with an unimpressed look. You grabbed his mouth and kissed him, palming him through his pants simultaneously. He moaned. You dragged your hands down his waist, feeling the gentle curve under your fingers, before roughly tuning him around and undoing the corset.
“Such a whore you are, won. I was right there but you asked Jay to help you? You let jay touch this gorgeous waist?” You threw the corset on the ground and started feeling up his waist again. Your cold fingers made his hair rise and his breathing intensify.
One of your hands travelled to his nipple, and you twisted it harshly. As he let out a loud noise you quickly put you thumb on his tongue.
“Shut. Up.” He looked at you widely, his gorgeous eyes looked like they were going to cry. He did this to himself, he needs to face the consequences.
You slowly put your index and middle finger to pinch at his nipple, and circled the tip with you tongue. He tried to stay quiet, but a low and high pitched mewl vibrated against your thumb.
“Shhhhhhh”. You put your thumb further into his mouth and let your hand travel up to his neck. You rubbed soothing circles against it and licked up his throat. You felt him shiver and squeeze his eyes shut. You let your teeth graze his skin before moving your hand down further, until it glided over an evident bump.
“Fucking slut.” You whispered in his ear while smiling.
You had never been this rough with him before and he was loving it. Usually your love sessions were filled with your words of praise and admiration, this was a new side of you he hadn’t seen before. Feeling all these different sensations at once, it was too much for him. He felt so so good.
“My baby is all hard for me. Did you like it when I spoke to you like that? Hm? You liked it when I called you a stupid little slut?” He let out a noise and vigorously nodded his head ‘yes’. His hips bolted towards your hand, trying to feel more, but you pulled your hand away while clicking your tongue in disapproval. You started pulling down his hands, with one hand still in his mouth. His belt and pants fell onto the floor, his underwear soon following suit. His cock sprung up, pointing straight at you. You trailed your finger down it and watched him shake in pleasure.
“You know… if we were alone, i’d have tied you up to the bed, edging you all night. Poor baby would be begging me to let him cum, pleading for me to keep going. Maybe i’d do some real brat taming, throwing you over my lap and spanking you until your ass is all red and swollen. Maybe i’d have had you under me, pleasing me as much as I’d want. Using you like a toy. That’s all you are to me, a worthless toy.”
He cried out and bucked his hips again.
“I’ll make sure to give you a real punishment later, for now, all you get is this.”
You pulled your thumb out of his mouth and left the room with the door open. He stood there dumbfounded at what happened. His cock was rock hard and all his clothes on the floor.
pairing: idol!niki x idol!male reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 465
includes: established relationship, idol au
the stage lights overhead burn into niki’s skin as he stares out at the seemingly endless sea of fans below. stray confetti coats the ground in splotches of colour beneath his feet. he unconsciously rocks on the balls of his feet, occasionally leaning down to wave at nearby fans or offering small comments in response to his hyung’s speeches.
niki stands near the corner of the stage, watching as the led screens behind them pan between the members and various fans in the crowd below. he pauses when heeseung’s laughter cuts through the cheers, turning back to send a questioning glance in jake’s direction.
“niki,” sunghoon laughs, pointing at a fan in the crowd. “an engene wants to steal y/n from you.”
niki squints, leaning towards the direction of sunghoon’s hand. amidst the various concert banners he had seen being sold just outside of the venue and handmade signs with declarations of love stands a fan holding up a poster with something different - a few pictures of you with big black letters decorating the space around your face: NIKI, CAN I STEAL Y/N’S HEART?
he dramatically falters, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. jake stands beside him; one of his arms lazily slung over niki’s shoulder. “do you have anything to say about this?” he asks, holding his microphone up to the boy’s lips akin to a reporter.
“i’m hurt,” he laughs, shaking his head in mock disbelief. his hyung’s laughter mix with his own as the noise continues to echo loudly throughout the packed concert arena - much to the enjoyment of the fans filling the stadium.
niki can’t help the smile that threatens to overtake his features as he raises his own microphone to his lips. “you really want to take y/n from me?” he chuckles. “are you sure you can handle him?”
another roar of excitement spreads through the crowd at his words. various shouts of “of course!” and “give me a chance!” are just barely loud enough for him to hear.
niki smiles, his gaze drifting back to the small poster of you. he’s sure you’ll be more than prepared to tease him once he returns to their hotel for your daily facetime call - the thought making his smile even brighter despite his halfhearted attempts to hide it. “wow, you’re really gonna keep y/n from engene?” sunoo teases, nudging niki’s shoulder with his own.
“they even asked for permission!” jay laughs, spurring on even more cheers from the crowd.
“i guess we can share,” niki sighs in mock defeat, dramatically dropping his shoulders. beside him sunoo laughs - the sight just enough to amplify the crowd’s reaction even further. “just make sure to give him back, okay? he’s still mine.”
“of course, of course,” jungwon snickers.
notes: trying something new where i rewrite some of my old fics. inspired by this post by @yeeunjia; original post here
if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out more enha imagines or enha reactions <3
vaporwave
kianamaiart
ellievsbear
