AU: Pianist!Baekhyun, ???!Au
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Wordcount: 1031
Notes for Update: Comment if you want more!
Warnings: Smut
A/N: This is the third one guys, you know the drill, comment for more, if it reached the desired amount of notes we’ll see about more ;)
His hands were everywhere, smoothing over your sides, tugging at your hair. You felt his chest heave against yours as he pressed you into the mattress. Hot breath fanning out of your neck, before he kissed the skin, sucking, scraping his teeth over it till you were a whimpering mess in his embrace.
“Baekhyun.” You breathed, fingers dancing along the nape of his neck. He smelled heavily of his cologne, the tinge of it filling your nose along with the scent of sweat and your own perfume.
He hummed, moving his kissed further down your body as you pulled him closer to you with your legs. His lips were smooth against the top of your chest, tongue darting out to taste you there. It was hot in the back of the car, the material scarping against your back as he rocked his hips into you slowly. He was taking too long for your liking, stringing you along in his game like he owned you. And he did.
Your hands traveled down the planes of his back, his muscles shifting with his every movement. He was playing you like a fine instrument, in control of every little sound he had you make. The way his fingers danced over your body like they did with his piano, perfectly altering pressure when he needed to, creating symphonies in the form of your pleasure.
He looked up at you when his mouth descended over your nipple, eyes dark with desire. Baekhyun was expensive, exquisite, so at home here in the back of his Rolls Royce, unlike you. There was a way in which he exuded his status, how he held himself, that made your knees weak.
With deft hands, you helped him out of his pants, quickly pulling him back to you. He was warm, hot almost, as it was freezing outside. The material of the seat was becoming slippery with your sweat, as he finally dragged his fingers up your folds. So slowly, barely touching you.
You keened high in your throat when he slipped a finger inside, his eyes studying the way your back arched of the seat. For Baekhyun, his fingers were what he owned his money with. And you felt it, in his firm strokes and soft taps against your clit. “Baek.” You moaned, reaching out for him, clawing your nails over his shoulder.
He chuckled. “You’d do with only my hands for the rest of your life, wouldn’t you?”
Could you even tell him no? Another moan escaped your lips as you tried to answer him. He’d set out to take you to dinner, but you’d never made it. There was nothing innocent in the way his hand had skimming your thighs under the dress that he’d bought for you. Embroidered with real crystals and made of the finest silk. He’d set out to show you off, to government officials and his fellow musicians at one of the biggest events of the year. But now he was just showing off to you, as per usual.
You keened again, as his fingers slowly moved inside of you. With a hand you reached for him, trying to pull him closer.
“Use your words Dolce.” He mused, light smirk playing on his lips as he whispered his little nickname for you. His hair colour reminded you of Dulce the Leche, a soft caramel flavour that you loved.
“Want you.” You mumbled, closing your eyes in sheer pleasure. “Please.”
He chuckled. “But you have me already.”
Your body rocked as he pinched you lightly, your mouth falling open. He was always one to drag everything out as long as possible. Every single one of your interactions were inspirations to hime. Goodmornings under his silk sheets, hot nights spent in his piano room when he got frustrated with the large instrument, or passionate spur of the moment things like this. Sex, in the back of his car.
“Baek.” You whined, not one to easily give him what he wanted when it came to words. Everything he did to you, ever push and pull inside of you, every little touch, pinch, flick, was more than enough to make you feel like heaven, but not enough to send you into ecstasy. He knew that.
He scolded you, with a familiar glean in his eyes, before he came back over you, chest brushing yours. Your hands ran through his hand, and up his side. Baekhyun kissed you, lips enveloping yours, tongues dancing to a melody he was creating in his mind. He slowly pushed inside of you, rocking his body against yours softly, savouring every moment he got like this.
Like always, he created the perfect tempo, with dips and spikes that made you see stars. How long you’d been here, you didn’t know, but everything felt good. Until it felt too good and your body stilled and shivered beneath him in a silent crescendo. He followed you, face buried in your neck, fingers bruising your hips.
An hour later you arrived at the venue, 2 hours too late but just in time for his performance. His friends had looked at him with curious eyes, and looked at you with judgements. He’d briefly introduced you to some, before he left you alone with Chanyeol’s wife to take place behind his piano. Chanyeol was his manager, his wife was 2 years older than you, you got along well. She knew her way around the world of riches and music, like her husband.
Baekhyun started playing, creating a pattern of goosebumps on your skin in a way that only he could. From behind the glossy black grand piano he looked at you with a loving smiles. His eyes closed, deft fingers dancing over ivory keys in a way you’d never heard. This composition was new, it was slow, painfully so, making you want more. You wanted the speed, a firmer touch of the keys. But he wouldn’t give it.
This was inspired by what had happened, in the car. You helped him create the most beautiful melodies like these, because he loved you. Because you made him love you. Why? Because he’d made a deal with your employer, the devil.
