#in a way I do think he'd be bolder Because there's not a set of expectations. the weather talk became a best friend talk..

[demonstars]

likee i can't stop thinking of new born puppy dream, its may and he's so in love and all he can do is try and give himself fully, as much as george lets him -eras

IT'S ABOUT TO BE SUMMER AND HE'S SO HAPPY AND EXCITED TO BE ALIVE AGAIN. AND HE WANTS TO GIVE HIM ANYTHING

[jaysbaefie]

noona | sjy (2/2)

synopsis: in which your little brothers best friend can’t keep his feelings and true intentions a secret anymore.

genre: brothers best friend to lovers

pairing: little brothers best friendljake x older afab reader

warnings: sad!jake, petty!jake, degrading, light dubcon, light fondling, manhandling, oral (m.rec and f.rec), unprotected p in v, forced confession of feelings, choking, jake eats his own cum…overstimulation, fingering, pussy slapping, creampie, almost getting caught (again). that’s it….i think.

wc: 5.1k

read part 1 part 2

a/n: i didn’t think id pop out w a part 2 for this fic but here i am… i was procrastinating w my other ones so i decided to do smth w little to no plot and just filth. anyways.. hope u enjoy! notes reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

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weeks went by and you'd had enough.

the guilt was eating you alive, and every time jake touched you when sunghoon was nearby, your heart nearly stopped. it was reckless, dangerous and completely insane.

your heart ached whenever you saw jake and sunghoon hang out, seeing their friendship. you wondered how sunghoon would react if he found out that his best friend was fooling around with his older sister.

you couldn't bear the thought of your brother looking at you differently, so you made a decision.

that night jake was over, as he always was. you watched the two boys play games on the living room couch, standing afar as your cleaned up in the kitchen.

your parents had bid their goodnights, heading upstairs to go to sleep leaving you, sunghoon and jake alone downstairs.

"hey! you said you'd cover me!" sunghoon grunts, his eyebrows furrowed as he squints his eyes—focusing on the screen ahead.

"i was getting attacked! i had to protect myself!"

"and your ass still died. what was the point of that."

the two argued playfully amongst each other, the thought of them not being friends because of you ached you.

time passes by, you loiter in the kitchen—pretending to do work on your laptop.

"noona, you can go to sleep you know. i know you're bored," you heard sunghoon say to you, peering back to see you sitting at one of the barstools in the kitchen.

you give him a soft smile, shaking your head. "it's no big deal, i have to stay up anyways. have to finish off these papers."

he nods, adjusting his head set. jake looks over, your eyes widening when he smirks at you—biting at his bottom lip. you quickly avert your eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

jake had gotten much bolder with his actions, however, nothing too intimate had happened ever since the kitchen scene a few weeks ago.

he wasn't as touchy, but his words had gotten bolder.

he always found ways to lean in too close, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured things that made your face burn. "you smell good today, noona." or "you know, i have dreams about you. wanna know what they're about?" and when you pushed him away, he only chuckled, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

if you dropped something, he'd pick it up and hold it out—only to yank it back when you reached for it. "use your manners, noona. say please."

"please?"

his smirk widens, "good girl, noona."

if you were cooking, he'd stand behind you, arms caging you in as he reached for something. "careful, wouldn't want to burn yourself." he'd rub himself up against your butt, letting you feel how hard he was for you. but he never did more than brushing up against you or the occasional lingering touches.

it was almost like he was riling you up, teasing you so you'd snap.

when sunghoon was in his room with his headphones on, you pulled jake aside into the hallway. sunghoon had said goodnight, insisting that jake stay over since it was past midnight. jake had agreed, a dark smile on his face as his eyes raked up and down your figure—tongue jutting out to quickly swipe over his lips.

his usual cocky smirk was already forming, like he knew exactly why you wanted to talk.

"jake, we have to stop."

he blinked at you, amused. "stop what, noona?"

you swallowed, your stomach twisting. "this. whatever this is. it's wrong."

his smirk faltered for a second before his expression darkened. he stepped closer, forcing you back against the wall, trapping you between his arms. you tried not to shiver when you felt his breath against your skin.

"you think you can just cut me off like that?" he murmured, voice low and dangerous. "like i'm some bad habit you need to quit?"

you turned your face away, refusing to meet his gaze. "i—jake, i mean it. this is over."

he scoffed. "bullshit."

your eyes snapped back to him, widening as his fingers trailed along your arm. "i know you, noona. i know how you sound when you're turned on. i know how you taste when you're falling apart under me. and i definitely know how you look when you're pretending you don't want me." his hand suddenly slid between your thighs, over your shorts, pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.

you gasped, pushing at his chest. "j-jake, stop—sunghoon is upstairs!"

his smirk returned, but this time it was cruel. "exactly. so why haven't you screamed for him yet?"

you froze.

your mouth opened, but no words came out.

his grip tightened on your hip. "you could call him right now. tell him everything. tell him what a perv i am, how i've been touching you when he's not looking, how i licked your pretty cunt until you were shaking in the kitchen." he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "but you won't, will you?"

your breathing was ragged. "jake—"

"because you like it, noona." his fingers pressed harder, making your legs clench involuntarily. "you like how dirty this is. how wrong it feels. you say we need to stop, but your body?" he chuckled, sliding his knee between your thighs. "your body says otherwise."

he squeezes your hip, pushing you down so you grinded against his knee. you held in a moan, pursing your lips as you feel jake get tougher with his actions.

tears pricked at your eyes. whether it was from frustration, guilt, or something else entirely, you didn't know. "this isn't fair," you whispered.

jake pulled back slightly, tilting his head as he studied you. then, to your horror, his smirk completely disappeared. for the first time, he looked... genuinely hurt.

"you think this was just a game to me?" his voice was quiet, almost disappointed. "you think i did all this just to fuck around and piss you off?"

jake was hurt, he felt like you didn't even know him. he was never the type of guy that fooled around with girls, and you knew that. he thought he had made it clear how much he liked you, and only you.

you didn't know how to answer, standing there speechless.

jake clenched his jaw, his hands dropping from your body. his warmth disappeared, replaced by an unsettling emptiness.

"fine," he muttered, stepping back. "if that's what you want."

you felt like you could finally breathe again. but the victory was short-lived.

because the very next day, everything changed.

jake ignored you completely. no teasing touches. no lingering glances. no stolen moments in the hallway. it should've felt like relief, but instead, it felt like loss.

and the worst part? he was still around.

he still showed up at your house every day, still hung out with sunghoon like nothing had happened—but now, he acted like you didn't exist. and it was killing you.

although you hate to admit that you missed him and his advances, you were thankful that it had ended.

but just when you thought you were free, just when you started convincing yourself that maybe this was for the best.

jake reminds you why you could never escape him.

it happened late one night. a week had gone by since jake had pretended as if you didn't exist, you were slowly coming to terms with it.

you were in the kitchen alone, getting a glass of water, when suddenly, the room darkened. the air shifted, and before you could turn around—a familiar voice whispered against the shell of your ear.

"miss me yet, noona?"

your heart stopped.

and that was when you realized. this wasn't over. not even close. and in fact, it'll never be over.

your breath hitched as jake's hands found your waist, his grip firm, possessive—like he had every right to touch you.

"j-jake," you whispered breathlessly, your fingers tightening around the glass in your hand. you should push him away, should scream for sunghoon, should do anything but melt into him like you seemed to be doing.

but your body betrayed you.

he chuckled darkly, his nose grazing the side of your neck making you shiver in delight. "you thought i was done with you?" his fingers slid down to the hem of your shirt, teasingly brushing against your skin. "you think you can ignore this?"

his free hand covered yours, plucking the glass from your grip and setting it aside on the counter. the moment it left your grasp, he spun you around, pressing your back against the cool marble of the counters.

you mind races with flashbacks from weeks ago, when jake had his head between your legs and his tongue in you—making you writhe in pleasure. your chest heaved as you finally met his gaze—dark, hungry, filled with something dangerous.

"i was trying to be nice," he murmured, dragging his fingers down the dip of your throat, over your collarbone, down to the top button of your pajama shirt. "but you don't want nice, do you, noona?"

you looked up at him with pleading eyes, "you're a lot stronger than i thought you were, noona," he starts, his hand grabbing a hold of your breast making you whine. "i thought you'd break in a few days, but seems like you were getting used to my absence. can't have that now, can we?"

you swallowed hard, eyes darting to the doorway. "s-sunghoon is upstairs," you reminded him, voice barely above a breath.

jake smirked, popping the first button open. "then you better be quiet."

your stomach twisted as another button came undone, then another, his fingers deliberately slow, teasing.

"jake," you tried again, but suddenly, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, stealing the breath from your lungs.

your hands instinctively flew to his shoulders, but whether to push him away or pull him closer, you weren't sure. it didn't matter. he took the decision from you, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel just how much he wanted this.

a muffled whimper escaped your throat when he rolled his hips into you, your core throbbing at the friction.

"fuck," he groaned against your lips, one hand slipping under your shirt to splay across your bare waist. "you have no idea how much i missed this."

"we—we can't," you breathed, even as your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging him closer.

"we already are," he murmured, teeth grazing your jaw before trailing down to your neck. you gasped when he sucked at the sensitive spot just below your ear, your body arching into his as heat coiled deep in your stomach.

"so sensitive," he mused, his lips curving against your skin. "you missed me too, didn't you, noona?"

you hated that he was right. hated that you had missed this—his touch, his voice, the way he made you feel alive.

but before you could admit it, before you could even think of responding, his hand was dipping lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts.

your breath hitched.

"jake," you gasped, your knees nearly giving out when his fingers brushed against your clothed heat. he groans at the dampness he found, his other hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"look at you," he murmured, eyes dark with need. "so fucking wet for me." you let out a soft whimper, and that was all it took for his restraint to snap.

"you're going to be a good girl, right noona?" he pants softly, his hand slipping out of your shorts. you almost whine at the loss, missing his touch where you need it the most.

you nod mindlessly, looking up at him to catch the dark look in his eyes. his lips pull into an almost evil smirk, "then you're going to have to apologize to me, noona. you hurt my feelings," he fake pouts.

you gape at him, your mouth opening to apologize only for jake to slip in two of his fingers past your lips. you gag around his fingers, not adjusting to the sudden intrusion in your mouth.

he stares down at you, his breath hitching when he pumps his fingers slowly into your mouth.

"nu uh, noona. that's not how i want my apology," he begins, his mouth pulled into a lazy smirk. he slowly pulls his fingers out, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth and his digits. he rubs his spit covered fingers over your lips messily, his face pulled into a pained look as he holds in a moan. "you don't need to use your mouth, but your going to let me use your mouth. yeah?"

your eyes widen at his words, swallowing harshly before you're nodding your head. it felt as if you didn't have control over your own actions.

he grins at your obedience, his hands tangling it into your hair before he's pushing you down to your knees slowly.

you sink down, coming face to face with jake's crotch—your eyes widening when you see the large tent in his pants. jake smirks, tilting your chin up.

"c'mon, take it out."

your hands fumble with his pajama pants, pulling them down along with his briefs. you gasp when his cock springs free, thick, flushed, already leaking. your eyes flick up to meet his, but he doesn't give you time to marvel or breathe—his hand is already fisting in your hair again, pulling your head closer.

"open," he mutters, and when you hesitate, he tightens his grip, yanking your head back. "don't make me ask again, noona."

your lips part, and jake doesn't wait. he slides his cock into your mouth with one slow, brutal thrust, groaning low in his throat when he hits the back of it. your hands fly to his thighs, nails digging in, but he doesn't ease up—he rolls his hips, feeding more of himself into your throat until you're gagging, tears stinging your eyes.

"this is what you wanted?" he grits out, in pure bliss that the woman he had wanted for half of his life was taking him in to her mouth. "just my cock, right? that's all i was to you, yeah?"

you try to shake your head, try to speak around him, but he just holds you there, his other hand coming down to cup your jaw, thumb smearing at the tears running down your cheeks.

"don't lie now," he growls. "you said it yourself. you thought i didn't give a fuck about you. you thought i was just using you."

he pulls out just enough for you to suck in a shaky breath before slamming back in, your moan muffled, choked, sinful.

"you're older than me, right?" he spits, voice bitter. "supposed to be the mature one. then why the fuck are you acting like a scared little girl?"

you look up at him, ruined. your jaw aching, drool trailing down your chin—and jake just smiles. not soft. cruel.

he could feel the familiar coil in his stomach tighten, but this wasn't the way he wanted to cum for you.

"you hurt me, noona," he whispers, finally pulling out completely. you gasp, throat sore, but he doesn't let you rest. he grabs you by the arms and yanks you to your feet, pushing you hard against the counter.

"bend over."

"jake—" you choke, blinking through the fog of tears and lust. "we shouldn't—sunghoon—"

"you think i give a fuck about sunghoon right now?" he hisses, dragging your shorts down roughly, letting them pool around your ankles. "you think he'd care about protecting his slutty sister who lies about what we have?"

you flinch, but you don't stop him—not when he kicks your legs apart, not when he presses the head of his cock right against your dripping entrance.

"say it," he snaps, one hand gripping your hip while the other holds your hair in a tight, punishing fist. "say i'm not just a fuck. beg me to forgive you." you hold in a mewl as his grip on your hair gets tighter, the crown of your head touching his chest.

you bite your lip, shame and heat colliding in your chest, but you say it anyway—voice trembling, broken.

"you're not just a fuck," you whisper. "i'm sorry, jake—please, i didn't mean it. i thought you didn't care...i was scared."

he goes still for a beat, his grip on you relaxing before his chest presses against your back. you hear the shift in his breath.

and then he thrusts into you so hard the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"you should be scared," he hisses against your ear. "scared of how much i fucking want you. scared of what i'll do when you try to run again."

you cry out, biting your own wrist to keep quiet as he starts to pound into you, fast, rough, relentless. you could feel yourself convulse around his girth, your velvety walls sucking him in like a suction.

"mine," he growls with every thrust, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. "mine. you hear me?"

you nod, gasping his name, body trembling from the intensity. it's overwhelming—the pace, the anger, the feeling behind every snap of his hips.

"say it," he demands again, thrusting particularly hard.

"i'm yours," you sob, gripping the edge of the counter like your life depends on it. "jake, i'm yours, i swear—"

"damn right you are."

he grabs your throat from behind, turning your face just enough so he can kiss you—deep, messy, almost violent with how badly he wants to consume you.

"no more ignoring me," he pants against your lips. "no more pretending this isn't real. you understand?" you nod frantically, unable to speak, unable to think—just feel.

and when his hand slides between your thighs, rubbing fast, precise circles over your clit, your whole body locks up. you could feel that familiar feeling tighten up in your lower stomach, your body shaking with every thrust he delivers.

"cum for me, noona," he whispers. "make a mess. and don't you dare try to hide it."

"jake—jake, i—" your voice breaks into a whimper, hips jerking as his fingers circle tighter, rougher.

"go on," he pants, cock driving into you so deep you can't breathe. "cum all over my cock like the slut you said you weren't."

you sob into your arm, your entire body tightening as the knot in your stomach finally snaps. pleasure crashes over you like a wave—sharp, hot, almost unbearable. you clench around him, trembling as you come hard, your release soaking the base of his cock, dripping down your thighs, coating his fingers.

jake lets out a strangled groan at the feeling, his hips stuttering. "fuck, fuck—you feel that?" he growls, voice cracking. "so fucking tight when you cum for me. you were made for this."

his rhythm falters, becoming erratic. you know he's close—the grip on your hips turns bruising, his breath uneven as he drives into you with punishing force.

"where?" he growls, leaning over you, his chest flush against your back. "tell me where, noona. say it. beg for it."

you turn your head slightly, eyes glassy as you whisper, "inside. jake, please—want you to cum inside me."

he curses under his breath, his hands shaking as he fucks you harder—desperate now, his control gone.

"say it again," he snarls, voice wrecked.

"come inside me," you cry, your knees threatening to give out. "need you, jake. need to feel you."

that's all it takes.

with a guttural groan, he slams in deep one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you. his entire body shudders as he comes, filling you up with thick, hot spurts that you swear you can feel leaking out even before he's pulled out.

he stays buried in you, breathing hard, one hand gripping your hip, the other fisted in your hair as he presses his forehead against the back of your shoulder. you're both shaking, sweat-slicked and ruined, your legs barely able to hold you up.

but jake doesn't move—not for a long moment. when he finally does, it's slow, careful, like he's afraid of letting go. he pulls out with a hiss, watching the way his cum spills from your swollen cunt, dripping down your thighs onto the kitchen floor.

his jaw clenches.

he gently turns you around, lifts you up onto the counter, and cups your face between his hands—his voice lower, quieter, but still rough with leftover anger.

"you really think i didn't care?" he murmurs, brows furrowed as he looks into your eyes. "you think i could fuck you like that and not be in love with you?"

your breath catches at his sudden confession.

"you ignored me," you whisper, still dazed.

"because i was hurt," he growls. "because hearing you call yourself a toy—saying i was just using you—fucked me up, noona. i've been in love with you, and you thought it was just my dick talking."

he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"you're mine," he whispers, softer now. "and i'm yours. whether sunghoon likes it or not."

you swallow hard, your hand rising to rest on his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart.

"...i didn't mean it," you whisper. "i was scared. you're younger, and—i thought i was making a mistake."

he kisses you—slow, breathless, a stark contrast to how he'd fucked you minutes ago. and when he pulls away, he's smirking again, cocky and flushed and still so mad.

"you did make a mistake," he says. "and you're going to make it up to me." his hands slip beneath your thighs, dragging you toward the edge of the counter again.

"starting now."

his hands are already back on you before you can breathe—dragging you down the counter, legs parted, chest heaving. he doesn't even give you a moment to recover. you're still dripping with his cum when he spreads you open, gaze locked on your wrecked, swollen pussy.

"look at this mess," he growls, thumb smearing the mix of your release and his across your folds. "you look better like this. ruined. mine."

you gasp, hips jerking at the overstimulation, but he just chuckles darkly, grabbing your thighs to yank you closer until your ass is barely on the counter.

"you made me wait," he sneers, his tone dropping. "you ran your mouth. called me a kid. said i was just using you. and now look at you."

you try to respond, but he presses two fingers to your lips again, "no. you don't get to talk right now. just sit there and take it."

then he's dropping to his knees between your legs, and you barely manage to get a word out before his tongue replaces his fingers—licking up every drop of his cum that's still leaking out of you. he moans like he's starved, eating you out through the overstimulation, not stopping even when your legs tremble around his head.

"fuck—jake, too much—" you sob, fisting his hair, but he just growls into your cunt, locking his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. his tongue runs up and down your slit, flattening it where you need it most.

"this pussy's mine," he mutters against your clit, slapping it lightly with his tongue, making you cry out. "mine to ruin. mine to clean up. you don't get to tell me when i'm done." he continues the pattern, licking figure 8s on your clit as his fingers pry into you slowly—teasing you.

and he doesn't stop until you're falling apart again, legs shaking, tears streaking your cheeks as you cum a second time with a broken scream, biting down on your hand to muffle it—sunghoon still upstairs.

he stands up slowly, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes wild. his cock is hard again, flushed and angry-looking, already twitching against his stomach.

"turn around," he orders, his eyes wild as he stares down at you with hunger.

you hesitate—wrecked, overstimulated—but he grabs your hips and flips you over himself, bending you back over the counter like you weigh nothing.

"you wanted rough?" he pants, lining himself up again. "you wanted to act like i was just some horny little kid with a crush?"

you try to speak but scream instead when he slams into you in one brutal thrust.

"jake—"

he wraps his hand around your throat from behind, yanking you upright against his chest. you gasp at the feeling, his grip on your throat now bruising as you struggle for air. 

"say it again," he hisses in your ear. "say my name like that again."

"j-jake," you sob, your voice breaking as he fucks into you with punishing force.

he leans down, biting your shoulder hard enough to bruise. "you're never calling me a kid again. i'm the only one who fucks you like this. the only one who makes you this dumb."

his other hand slides down, slapping your clit repeatedly without mercy, and your whole body jolts.

"gonna cum again, noona?" he pants. "fucking pathetic. creaming around my cock again when you said we couldn't. when you said i didn't mean it." your body trembles as jake forces your third high out of you, your cunt convulsing around him pathetically.

you cry out, tears falling freely now, your body on fire, collapsing in on itself with every thrust.

"beg for it," he growls. "beg me to fill you up again."

"jake, please—" you gasp, clawing at the marble. "fill me up. need it. need you."

"yeah?" he groans, his rhythm faltering as you tighten around him again. "say you're mine. say you love this."

"i'm yours," you cry, so close to breaking. "i love it—love when you fuck me like this—i'm yours, jake, only yours."

he lets out a low, desperate moan, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "that's right. my noona. my pussy. mine."

his hips slam into you once, twice more—and then he's spilling inside you again, groaning through gritted teeth, his entire body curling over yours like he's trying to bury himself so deep you'll never forget.

you collapse against the counter, boneless and shaking, his cum dripping out of you all over again as you relish in the feeling of your third high.

he leans down, kissing your shoulder softly now—contrasting the bite he left minutes ago—and whispers, "never again. don't you ever say i don't mean it."

he pulls you back up into his arms, pressing soft kisses behind your ear now, your body still trembling.

"...you okay?" he finally asks, quieter now. "too much?" you nod slowly, clinging to him. "no. not too much."

just jake. your jake. four years younger and somehow still the only one who's ever made you feel like this. you don't know how long you stood there, pressed against jake's chest, his arms tight around you as if he couldn't bear to let go.

your legs barely worked, still trembling from the aftermath, and you knew you looked wrecked—shirt open, hair tangled, neck littered with blooming marks. you were both soaked in sweat, your thighs sticky, his cum dripping slowly down your leg.

jake kissed your temple softly, breath still ragged. "i should clean you up," he murmured. "but if i touch you again, i'm not gonna stop."

you leaned your head back against his shoulder, exhausted. "don't think i can take another round anyway."

he chuckled, but it was laced with something darker—possessiveness still simmering just beneath the surface. "you'll take what i give you next time. and you'll say thank you."

you didn't get the chance to respond because that's when you heard it.

a door creaking open upstairs.

both of you froze.

footsteps.

"shit," you breathed, panic setting in as the reality of your situation crashed down.

sunghoon.

your little brother.

he was awake and if he came down and saw this you two would be screwed.

"move," jake whispered harshly, grabbing a dishtowel from the counter and tossing it over the wet mess you'd left behind. "go to the bathroom. now."

you scrambled to button your shirt, tugging your shorts up with shaking hands, nearly falling in the process. jake tucked himself away quickly, grabbing his hoodie from the kitchen chair and pulling it over his head just as the stairs creaked again.

you slipped down the hallway barefoot, heart pounding in your throat, ducking into the bathroom and locking the door with a soft click.

two seconds later, you heard sunghoon's voice from the kitchen.

"jake?"

"yo," jake replied, voice smooth—so effortlessly casual you wanted to scream.

"what are you doing down here?"

"water," jake said, cracking open the fridge to grab a bottle "couldn't sleep."

sunghoon hummed, still half asleep, "you good?"

jake laughed, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. "never better, hyung." you covered your mouth to keep from making a sound.

"you coming back up?" sunghoon asked, voice groggy with sleep as he reaches for the bottle of water that jake had offered him.

"in a bit."

they stood there in silence for a moment before you heard the footsteps retreat. the stairs creaked again. the door shut.

you waited a beat longer—just to be safe—before cracking the door open. jake was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted slightly.

his eyes met yours. slow. hungry.

you looked like hell—still flushed, lips swollen, hair a mess.

and jake?

jake looked like he'd do it all over again if he had five more minutes alone with you.

"you okay?" he asked, voice quiet now—sincere. you nodded, stepping closer, until he reached out and tugged you into his arms.

"you scared the shit out of me," you mumbled into his chest.

"you scare me every time you act like this is something i'm not serious about."

you froze.

jake pulled back slightly, his hands gentle now as he cupped your jaw. "i'm not just fucking you, noona. i've never just been fucking you."

your chest ached at the truth in his voice. raw and exposed.

"i know," you whispered, finally. "i believe you." he smiled—small, but genuine. "good. because next time you call me a kid, i'll fuck you and fill you so you have mine."

your breath hitched, but this time it wasn't from fear or shame—just need. you kissed him—soft, slow, the kind of kiss that promised this wasn't over.

because now you knew, it would never be over.

and god help you, you didn't want it to be.

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!

[buckgasms]

Now I know Bucky isn't a mafia boss or anything in the Princess universe BUT I feel like he would have enemies and people would definitely think his Princess was a good target.

So imagine with me that you are out shopping and you are suddenly surrounded by burly men in suits who guide you to an unfamiliar car. Your shopping bags are left on the curb as the tyres screech as they peel away.

Maybe for a moment you think, is this an elaborate prank that Daddy has set up? But as you begin to speak a hand clamps around your mouth, pressing a damp rag to your face and everything turns black.

🖤

You wake up, groaning as you feel your hands tied to a chair and you still aren't quite sure if this is one of Daddy's games, because you've definitely been put in this position before.

"Ah you're awake, quite the snorer you know..."

A slippery voice speaks in the darkness of the room. It looks like a cheap hotel suite. Big but grubby, the sheets on the bed look like they be greasy to the touch and the walls are a sad beige. No. Daddy wouldn't bring you here. You should feel scared, but the fact this man is hiding from you makes you a little bolder.

"Bucky's gonna kill you..." You say, keeping your voice as steady as you can. "And I don't snore..."

The man chuckles and appears into your view. He looks vaguely familiar, maybe someone Bucky has identified to you at a party of some kind. A shady character, dirty dealings and always trying to encroach on Bucky's businesses.

"Now... Are you going to be good for me?"

You balk at his words and grimace. He pulls out a long knife and you shiver. You knew Daddy would be on the way, but how long did you have to endure would be unknown.

"You are going to tell me everything I want to know or I'm going to ruin that very pretty face of yours..."

🖤

When Bucky's security team kicked down the door of the hotel room they were almost surprised to find you unscathed, your captor laying on the bed with a pen and paper in his hand, both of you looking quite relaxed.

Well until they grabbed him and dragged him out of the room.

Bucky came storming in, eyes wild in panic until he saw you smiling at him. He dropped down, hands going to the binds around your ankles and wrists.

"Are you ok Princess? Are you hurt baby?"

You smile, tears of relief welling in your eyes and you wrap your arms around him. "M'fine Daddy, he didn't hurt me too bad..."

He pulled back, holding your face in his hands before kissing you desperately, lips, cheeks, nose, forehead.

"Did you do what I told ya?" He says, panic lacing his voice and he checks your skin for damage, stroking at the red marks appearing on your wrists. He looks a you again, searching.

You giggle and nod. "Yeah, I told him everything I knew. Everything I could think of..."

Bucky grins and drags you in for another kiss. "Good girl, so proud of you Princess..."

🖤

"If you ever get taken baby I need you to do something for me..."

You lay in Daddy's arms, stroking his chin as his hand wraps around your wrist. You roll your eyes and giggle, but he pulls you to focus.

"It's important Babygirl, I want you to pay attention." He couples that with rolling you on top of him, your naked body pressing into his. You were very much aware of everything that was happening now.

"If anyone takes you and they wanna know my secrets..."

"Daddy don't worry I'll keep my mouth closed" you say, making a zip motion across your lips, throwing away the key, he grabs your hand and shakes his head.

"No princess. I want you to tell them everything you can think of. Nothing I do is worth hurting you for. Tell them whatever you can baby. I want you to promise me that.."

Your eyes widen a little, thinking about the gravity of what he's saying. His business, his empire, that he built from nothing. He'd risk it all to keep you from harm.

"Ok Daddy, I promise..." You lean down and kiss him as he rolls back over, squashing you, sending you into a fit of giggles and showing you again how much he loves you.

🖤

His fingers run through your hair as you cup his face in your soft hands. Despite the way it went, you were still pretty scared and being back in his arms was a great relief.

Sensing your adrenaline bubbling he picks you up and carries you out of the room. You bury your face into his neck and breathe deeply, trying to relax in his arms. Finally he climbs into the car and settles you on his lap.

"I'm so sorry this happened baby, never wanted you to get caught up in stuff like this. That son of a bitch is gonna pay, I swear to god..."

He watches you, as you fiddle with his shirt buttons, a look of concern on your face. He tilts your chin until you meet his gaze, thumb stroking gently at your cheek.

"Are you ok Princess?"

"Yes I think so... it's just....Daddy..... Do I snore?"

[moraesong]

imagerie

park jisung x female reader

In which you're the escort who Jisung has been seeing regularly, but you're pining for him.

Genre: fluff, light angst, nonlinear narrative?

Content: this is set in a non-idol alternative universe. a bit suggestive at the beginning, but there's really nothing else besides that. reader is an escort but there aren't mentions of negative interactions with clients. overall pretty sweet

Word count: 5,344 words

Author's note: In a way, this story is an exercise in pining more than anything else, so it's not necessarily intended to be realistic. I wrote this with the idea that the reader's character is the same age as Jisung, but that is not specified in the story. I'll have more notes after the end!

Looking back, all of this began because of Na Jaemin. 

You still remember that day so clearly. At the time, you were accompanying Xiao Dejun at a fancy hotel dinner that was held in celebration of a collaboration agreement between two large companies. It was only your fourth ever appointment since becoming an escort.

Na Jaemin was the most handsome man you'd ever seen in your life. You were flustered when he started flirting with you, with Dejun still by your side, no less. Thankfully, Dejun seemed amused and not annoyed. 

Near the end of the party, Jaemin pulled you aside and asked for your phone number. You initially thought it was for himself, but he told you about his beloved younger friend, and how he was looking for a date for the next company gathering.

Na Jaemin was a master at reading people, and he could tell that you were kind and gracious—a good match for his beloved Jisung. But most importantly, he saw a genuine sweetness in you, one that you couldn't mask. He found you beautiful too, which didn't hurt. 

So that was the beginning of it all. And here you are now, waiting for Jisung to come down to the pool in his luxury apartment complex. It's been five months since you had your first date with Jisung, facilitated with Jaemin's interference, of course. 

Jisung was shy at first, but over time he'd grown more comfortable with you, and bolder too. Now he's one of your main clients, and you see him fairly often. He even started giving you gifts such as necklaces and bracelets. You had tried to refuse them, but he insisted. 

It's Saturday afternoon, and Jisung had paid you to spend several hours with him today. This is your first time in his apartment complex, though. When you'd asked, he was vague about the details of how he wanted to spend this time, with the exception of mentioning the pool. So you'd brought your best bikini to look pretty for him.

You sigh loudly, alone at your pool chair. You don't know what you should do about all this. 

But never mind that, because the door just opened. It's Jisung. You looked away after seeing him, but you can feel his eyes on you. You'll let him look—after all, you'd wanted to impress him today.

You finally look up to see him standing there awkwardly. He hasn't been this shy since your first few dates together, so you're a little confused. 

“What is it, Jisung?” you prompt.

He grows even more bashful, if that's possible. “Ah, it's nothing,” he says. “It's just that when I saw you, I really thought that you're like a goddess.”

A goddess? You feel your cheeks warm. Yeah, Jaemin was right about you. You fall easily for words like this. Even though you've been an escort for half a year now, you're still affected by praise and sweet words. 

But you shake your head. “I'm just me,” you say. “And you know me.”

“And you're the most stunning girl I've ever met.”

You don't answer to that. Jisung has a habit of trying to be romantic, and it's one that you should protect your heart from. After all, he could easily have a change of heart and stop paying for your company. It could happen anytime, really. 

So you stand up and play the part of the sultry escort. You slide your hand down Jisung's chest and stop at his lower abdomen. He's so hot, you think. “Do you want to go in the pool now?”

The pool was actually really fun. You swam by yourself for a bit before rejoining Jisung. The two of you chattered away, and you ended up smiling so much that your cheeks hurt. Being with Jisung made you happy. 

You're done showering now, and your hair is dry. Jisung is showing you some of the new song lyrics he's been writing lately. In his family, his older brother is the one who is more involved with the company, so Jisung is free to pursue whatever he wants, which usually means art. And you too, if you could be considered as someone who entered his life through money. 

But really, truly, you didn't have anything to complain about, did you? You were steadily earning money through your profession, and you'd been able to meet Jisung, who treated you well and even went above and beyond. The only problem was that you liked him too much.

Was there ever a way that things could have turned out differently? You don't think so. Your fate was set for you the moment you saw Jisung's smile. 

It was during your first date with him. He had been reticent until you said something that made him laugh—you always try to remember what exactly it was, but you’re never able to. All you remember is what happened after. The way he smiled and how it made his whole face look so cute and bright. And you noticed how Jisung’s smile was shaped like a heart, and in that moment, your own heart was set on him. 

It didn't make sense, you knew. How could you have loved him already? Well, even if it wasn’t love, you knew there was something there. Not love, but your heart calling out for a home, and maybe it just so happened that Jisung was right there and it was convenient for your heart to attach itself to him. Maybe. 

You had decided to wait the feeling out and see what happened. You knew after the first date that it could have been your first and last time seeing Jisung, but it didn't turn out that way. There were several more dates, and it all came to a peak that one Sunday.

You couldn't hold yourself back. At the end of the date, you kissed him, short and sweet. It startled Jisung, and he flinched and stepped back a bit. He hadn't expected you to do that. You saw this, and apologized immediately, feeling guilty because you knew it caught him off guard and you hadn't asked for his permission.

You watched as Jisung patted at his heart and took a deep breath. He told you that it was okay, and that he'd liked it, just that he gets startled easily and he didn't realize what you were going to do. Before he left, he added that you could do it again another time, if you wanted to. 

It was after that when he became bolder with you, and a bit more touchy, taking your hand sometimes or leaning his head against your shoulder. You tried to not think too much about what that could mean, because he still paid you for your time every time, and he never said anything that indicated that he actually wanted to date you “for real.” Maybe he just liked the convenience of knowing you'd be there for him as long as he was a source of your salary. That you wouldn't turn him down because this was something you had to do. 

You thought it was obvious to Jisung that you genuinely liked him, but one day you accidentally saw his text messages to Jaemin, and he'd written that you were a really good escort, and “Thanks for recommending her.” Did that mean he thought you were just really good at your job? Yes, you tried to be, but it was easy with Jisung because you were just that enamored. Again, you decided to not think about this too much, either. 

To your surprise, you'd received a text message from Jaemin. He wanted to ask for your time this Friday evening—there was a fashion gala in your city that he had to be at. 

You weren't sure what to make of this. Jaemin was Jisung's friend, so surely he must know how often you see Jisung, right? Unless you really didn't mean anything to Jisung, thus making Jaemin feel like he could ask this of you…

You were getting ahead of yourself. You shook your head and replied to Jaemin, telling him you could make it. 

So the evening came, and you came with the resolve that if Jaemin tried to pull anything, you would strongly reject his advances. A silly part of you wanted to show your loyalty to Jisung, even if it didn't make any sense.

“You can relax, Y/N,” Jaemin said, more sincerely than you'd expected. “I won't do anything tonight. Just wanted your company.” He flashed you his megawatt smile. 

“How do you always know?” you asked. 

Jaemin winked at you, and laughed as he saw the disgusted face you made at him. “I have my ways. People are easy to read.” 

And you'd never wished more that he didn't have this ability until this night came. You were sitting down by yourself, Jaemin off in the crowd with someone else—Lee Jeno, he said?—chatting and chatting. You let your eyes wander towards Ning Yizhuo, the star of tonight's gala, and get a heavy feeling in your stomach when you realize the person she's talking to now is no other than Park Jisung. 

He knows her? That was your first thought. Your second thought is about whether they were dating or not. Jisung had never mentioned her to you, or anyone who seemed like a possible girlfriend for that matter, so you had assumed that he didn't have anyone and that you weren’t his ��side piece,” if that was any consolation. But maybe you were wrong. 

You know it's not right to assume that any girl Jisung is talking to is romantically involved with him, but the fearful part of your brain takes over. You want to look away, but you can't. You watch silently as Jisung laughs and smiles easily with her, and wish desperately that you could be in Ning Yizhuo’s place.

“Looking at Jisungie now, aren't you?” 

Jaemin is back. He caught you…you remind yourself that tonight, you're with Jaemin, and no one else. 

So you apologize. “I'm sorry about that, Jaemin. I promise I'm yours for tonight.” You sit up straighter and focus all your attention on him, looking him in the eyes. You'd forgotten how blindingly handsome he is, and it takes a lot for you to not look away. 

But Jaemin just waves his hand. “No need to apologize, Y/N,” he says. “And if you're wondering, Jisung and Ningning are childhood friends. He's not seeing anyone right now. Well, except for you, of course.” 

You must have looked visibly relieved at this information, because even though you thought you hid your reaction, Jaemin follows up with, “Wow, you really like him, don't you?” He almost looks sympathetic. 

You look down at your lap. There's no point in denying anything when Jaemin knows it all. “Yeah.” You sigh.

Deciding to be brave, you ask, “Do you know how he feels about me?” 

But before Jaemin has even opened his mouth, there's a new person pulling out a chair at your table. He has a strong bone structure and dark hair. He greets Jaemin casually before turning to you. 

“You're Jaemin’s date tonight, right? Who are you?”

He's very straightforward, you think. But he seems fine. So you say, “I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you.”

You're confused though, because his mouth drops open and he gasps. “Wait, did you say Y/N? As in Jisung’s Y/N?” At this second question, he turns towards Jaemin. 

You were known by somebody as Jisung’s? What is going on…

“My apologies. I totally forgot to introduce myself! I'm Zhong Chenle.” He smiles brightly at you, and you find yourself smiling back easily. He has a melodious voice too, you notice.  

Chenle is a fantastic conversationalist. It seems to you that he can talk about anything and everything. Within the span of your conversation with him, he's told you about his dog, what he ate for breakfast this morning, his new exercise regimen, and even the first time he met Jisung. 

“Jisung and I have known each other since we were ten,” he says proudly. “I'm his oldest friend.”

Oh wow. So you'd do well to be on Chenle's good side, since they're so close…but wait, why are you thinking about all of this because of a guy who pays you to spend time with him? Are you really that down bad? 

The answer is, unfortunately, yes. And you know that more than anyone. More than Jaemin, even. 

But what you don't know is that Jisung had a whole conversation about you with Chenle. Chenle remembers it well.

“I really do think she likes me,” Jisung had insisted. 

“You know she has to act like she likes you, right? That's what you pay her to do,” Chenle had pointed out, not unkindly but truthfully. 

“But I really feel like she does. I think she likes me for real. She always looks at me this certain way and kisses me on the cheek at the end of all of our dates. She doesn't have to do that…” 

The two were quiet for a moment. Then Jisung asked, “...Do you really think it's all just fake?” 

He looked so dejected that Chenle's demeanor softened. “I don't know, Jisung. I haven't met her. I just don't want you to get hurt over someone who isn't supposed to hurt you.”

Jisung had sighed. “You're right. Maybe I'm just imagining it.”

But now that Chenle's been talking to you, he’s starting to think that maybe Jisung wasn't imagining things. You seem a lot more genuine and guileless than he thought you'd be. He's surprised. He even risks asking you what it's like when you spend time with Jisung, and the way you smile and giggle at the thought of him surely has to be real. 

Chenle thinks he has his answer now, but he'll leave it up to Jisung to figure it out.

Chenle isn't the only friend of Jisung's whom you meet here. You hit it off with the kind and well-spoken Mark Lee to the point where you're enthusiastically exchanging phone numbers. As you're doing this Jisung actually passes by your table, and you almost pause what you're doing to wave at him, but he ignores you. You try to not feel embarrassed by that. 

And wait a minute…where even is Jaemin?

You're back at Jisung's apartment complex. This time, you're on the rooftop deck, a breeze blowing through your hair and Jisung sitting by your side. The stargazing has been going just okay, since it's cloudy tonight. You've given up for now and have started chatting about other things instead.

Suddenly Jisung asks you, “Did you like meeting Mark the other day?”

“I did,” you say. “He's one of the coolest people I've ever met. I love how well-read he is and how uniquely he thinks about things. It's so cool that you're friends with somebody as amazing as him.”

You say this very sincerely as you look at Jisung, but the compliment doesn't seem to have the effect that you wanted. He just looks at you blankly. “Are you going to be seeing him a lot, then?”

Oh. He thinks it's like that? 

“I don't know. I mean, it's up to him,” you reply after a brief pause. 

Jisung just nods at you and hums in acknowledgement. It looks like this conversation is over. You don't like Mark like that, though, and you didn't get the vibe from him that he wanted to spend time with you as an escort. 

You want to tell Jisung that he's the only one for you, but you keep your mouth shut before you blurt out something you shouldn't. You know you’ll have to say something sooner or later and that you can't hold it in forever, but for now you'll hold your silence. You've been doing it for this long anyways, so a little more should be okay.

Jisung had been hesitant at first, as he often is. When Jaemin told him about you for the first time, he'd refused the idea of hiring an escort to be his date. He didn't know what you'd be like, and he thought it might be immensely awkward to pay someone to spend time with him. But Jaemin reassured him. 

“She won't do anything that you don't want her to. Since you're paying her, you can let her know what's ‘awkward’ and what's not, in your words,” Jaemin had said. “Besides, don't you want to meet someone new? She's really sweet and pretty. I promise you'll like her.”

Jisung had his doubts about that. But still, he relented and asked you to be his date.

He didn't know what to expect, but as it turned out, you were just as sweet and pretty as Jaemin said you were. Jisung being Jisung, he was rather awkward with you at first (and then he felt awkward about being awkward!), but you never reacted negatively towards him. You clearly tried to make him feel more at ease, asking him about himself and his interests, his thoughts about the dinner you were provided at the company gathering, and how he was feeling. Soon Jisung felt himself relaxing a bit in your presence, and you smiled at him beautifully. 

Near the end of the event, you had told him, “Jisung, I didn't mention this earlier but I want to say this now. You're so handsome.” You put a hand on his arm, gently.

Jisung had blushed red and tried to stop himself from sputtering and embarrassing himself even more in front of you. “Really?” Did you mean it? Were you just trying to butter him up? Maybe this was something you always said…

“Yes, of course! Don't you know? You're gorgeous.” You moved your hand down to squeeze his hand, while Jisung brought his free hand up to cover his mouth in shyness and maybe even disbelief. You giggled at this, making Jisung look at you, and then the two of you giggled together.

Jisung decided that he didn't mind, even if you were just buttering him up. But he learned as time went on that you weren't, and you always meant what you said when you complimented him. It did boost his ego to be lavished with all this positive attention from a girl like you, and he even asked you one time if you could tell him about all the reasons you thought he was handsome. It was your turn to be shy and sputtering, but you told him. 

Jisung liked having your attention. He realized that he did have some kind of effect on you, and so he came to enjoy flirting with you just to see your responses. And after the first time you took him by surprise with a kiss, the only kisses you initiated with him were kisses on his cheek. So from then on, he was the one to start kisses with you on the lips, and the way you'd be breathless with your eyes shining as you parted from him—he wanted to see that again and again.

Maybe there was a romantic in him that needed to be fulfilled. Jisung almost forgot that what the two of you had was bound by the material world of monetary payment and time limits. He paid you generously for your time with him, but the way you sweetly thanked him every time somehow tricked him into thinking that it was a gift to the girl he liked, rather than something you required from him. 

What brought him out of this endless sky his delusional heart floated in was when you'd ask him if there was anything you could do better for him. Was there anything he wanted you to change? Did Jisung have any feedback for you about your services?

It was always jarring to him. How could it be, that you were only doing a job, but he felt so right with you? Jisung came to understand that you were a very good escort, and he told Jaemin as much. From a more cynical perspective, maybe this was all a ploy to be able to earn more from him.

Still, Jisung dreamed of love. And he remembers that one time you asked him, “Are you sure there's nothing better I could do for you? I can try more to be what you really want.” 

He told you, “Just keep being you,” fully aware of how silly that may have sounded. 

But you didn't seem to think that. Actually, you looked quite surprised to Jisung, and for the first time since he'd known you, you were fully speechless. 

After that moment had passed, you'd nodded and took a deep breath. ���Okay, Jisung,” you said. “I can keep being me for you. I will be for you.”

I will be for you. What did you mean by that? That you'd be yourself for him, yes, but had you been trying to say something more? Jisung doesn't know. 

That night you quietly kissed his fingertips before leaving him to his own thoughts.

This was wearing on you too much.

Last night you'd stayed over at Jisung's apartment. You weren't supposed to, and it wasn't included in the time that he'd paid you for. But just a few words from him, and you'd folded. His voice had you weak. 

“Please, Y/N? I think I'll sleep better if you're here with me.” 

You couldn't argue with that. Maybe Jisung made you ditzy; maybe Jisung made you dumb. You prided yourself on being able to maintain your composure and your propriety, but maybe you'd never been that person with him from the start. Too easily swayed when it was words from the boy with the prettiest eyes and pretty lips.

So, even though it was far too intimate, you did it. His white bedsheets were soft, and he made sure you were properly covered by his duvet. It was quiet too; just the subtle sound of his and your breathing. Soft, soft, soft. Your heart that was soft for Jisung, the softness of his bed, and the softness of the peaceful night that felt like it could last forever. 

Worst of all, or maybe best of all, Jisung was soft, too. He kissed you on the forehead and whispered to you a good night. 

You felt like your heart was going to burst. He made you feel like a girlfriend, but you knew you weren't that to him. 

But this had to come to an end. You've made up your mind, and you can only hope you're making the right decision. 

You've been an escort for about seven months now, and for six of those, you've been seeing Jisung. You never thought when you started that something like this would happen to you, but you've been consumed by him. Waiting for his texts to know when you would see him next, because it was always up to him and never up to you—though he never kept you waiting for long.

You can only hope that he'll take it well after you tell him what you have to tell him, but part of you wants him to not take it well. You want him to care. But, will he? 

No matter how this will turn out, you don’t feel ready for the consequences. 

You arm yourself with your best outfit and a gift for Jisung. You're wearing a white tulle butterfly top with a long skirt (even though you're going to be indoors, it's still winter outside!), and around your neck is a locket: the first gift that Jisung ever gave you.

The plan is for you to meet Jisung at the restaurant today. It's a popular restaurant and Jisung was out with his parents for a long while earlier, so to make sure the restaurant honored his reservation, he had to quickly make his way there on time rather than meeting up with you first. 

You don't mind. It gives you a little more time to mentally prepare yourself before you have to see him. 

But when you arrive at the restaurant and see him sitting there, you almost feel like all your worries were in vain. You're just happy to see him. Jisung looks just as beautiful as he did the first time you met him. 

He doesn't notice you until you're a few steps away. “Y/N! You're here.” 

“I am!” you say. You lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. Usually you only do that at the end of your dates, but you don't know how today is going to turn out, so you'd rather do it now while you still can. 

“What is that?” Jisung asks you. He's looking at the big gift bag you're holding. 

“It's for you,” you tell him. “Happy early birthday, Jisung.” 

“Wow,” he says, in a very Jisung-like manner. “You didn't have to get me anything! Being with you the weekend before my birthday is enough of a gift for me.” He smiles at you, and you don't think you're imagining the softness in his eyes. That gives you hope. 

“You know how it is. Anything for you,” you respond. You resist the urge to sigh those last few words out. 

Jisung asks if he can see the birthday present right now, or if you'd rather he wait. You find his excitement cute, so of course you pick up your gift bag and give it to him. In any case, you're trying to have as many sweet moments with him as you can before you might never see him again. Keep it sweet while it's sweet. Don't mix sweet and sad. 

You're trying. You think you're keeping the bad feelings at bay well enough so far. 

As expected, he likes your gift a lot. You gave him an Oasis vinyl, knowing his love for the band. Jisung says that he thinks this might end up being his best birthday ever. You're struck by how happy he seems to be today. Is it because of you?

Before the two of you start eating your food, you ask Jisung for a selfie together. You can tell he's a bit embarrassed to draw attention to himself in such a full restaurant, but he still says yes, so you come over to his side of the table with the thought that you'll make it quick. But Jisung surprises you again when he reaches for your phone and takes a few extra selfies of the two of you.

“I always take a bunch of extra ones when I take selfies, so don't worry about it,” he reassures you. 

Dessert time comes in a flash, and when both you and Jisung are almost done with your chosen desserts, you know it's now or never. With your heart beating fast, you take a deep breath. 

“I just want to say happy birthday to you again, Jisung. Today was really fun and I hope your birthday this year will be the best one you've ever had. But I have something I need to tell you.” This time, you can't stop yourself from sighing. The nerves are too much. 

Jisung nods and waits for you patiently. 

“I'm going to be quitting next week. I thought about it for a while, and I just feel like I'm not a good fit for this job, and I can't see myself doing this for much longer anyways. Since we see each other so often, I wanted to let you know. And I'm really sorry to bring this up so close to your birthday, but the timing…it just worked out that way. I'm sorry.” You lower your eyes, afraid of his response.

When you dare to look up, you see that Jisung looks concerned more than anything else. “Are you okay, Y/N? Did something bad happen?”

“No, nothing bad happened.” You deliberate on whether you want to say the next sentence in your head, and you think, why not, at this point. “Well, something did happen, but I don't think I can really tell you about it.” You shift in your chair. 

“That's okay. I understand,” Jisung says. This is going a lot better than you'd hoped. He doesn't seem upset with you for not telling him earlier, and he's also not pressing you about your reasons (the aforementioned “something” being the fact that you really genuinely like him and can no longer handle being in the in-between position you're in as the escort he hires). 

Jisung interrupts your mental processing with, “But, while I still have you here with me, is there anything else you want from me? It can be anything. I want to repay you one last time.” 

You hesitate. There is something you want from him, but if you ask for it he'll know your feelings for him. 

Well, he did say “anything”...

“Yeah, there is something.” With your fingers, you awkwardly hold up the heart-shaped locket you're wearing. “...Do you think you could give me a photo that fits into this locket?” 

You immediately regret saying that. From an outsider’s perspective, it makes zero sense for you to have a locket with a photo of one of your clients. It makes even less sense right after you told said client that you're quitting. But you've long given up on trying to make sense to yourself.

You remember what Jisung told you the day he gave you the locket. He said he bought it for you because it reminded him of your style. Although he didn't say it outright, he'd implied that there was no particular reason that it happened to be a locket. Still, you loved it and treasured it, keeping it safe in a jewelry box. 

“Y/N…what kind of photo? Do you mean a photo of me?” 

“It can be whatever you want,” you mumble, not wanting to admit what you meant. But it seems like he already knew. 

“I said it can be anything, so you can tell me exactly what you want. I can give you a photo of me, if that's what you want. But are you sure that you don't want something else? Why do you want a photo of me?” 

Oh no. Now he's grilling you. His calm demeanor throughout this conversation is making you nervous. 

You never intended to be the escort who got attached to her client, but that's what you are today, and what you were yesterday, and what you were for the past several months. It's time for you to be honest with yourself, and honest with Jisung.

So you say, “Jisung…hasn't it been obvious? I really like you.”

Silence. Oh, you knew this was a bad idea. 

Jisung reaches across the table to take your hand. You look at him, vulnerable. “I really like you too,” he confesses. “I thought you knew. I don't think I really hid that.” 

You stare at him in shock. This is everything you hoped for. Did you hear that right? Did Park Jisung just confess to you? 

You don't say anything, so Jisung continues. “Is it that hard to believe?” 

“No, I guess not…but I couldn't be entirely sure of your feelings, since you never said anything.”

“I was going to, but I talked to Chenle and he kind of talked me out of it. I did think that maybe you liked me too, but I started doubting everything after I talked with him. So I decided to just wait.” 

“I think I liked you from the beginning,” you say. “I'm so glad you feel the same.” 

So when the two of you leave the restaurant and Jisung asks you if he'll be seeing you again soon, you don't say that it's up to him. You give him a time and date, and this time he's the one to leave you with a kiss on the cheek before you go. 

You make a note to text Jaemin and thank him for everything.

Notes: Although I'm not entirely happy with the last part of the final scene, I feel like the way it is now is probably as good as it's going to get, so I decided I would leave it and be finished with this. I have been slowly working on this story since July 21, 2024, in sections when inspiration struck me, so it's been a while, and I wanted to finish it! This year, while trying to finalize the context for the final scene, I realized that it would make perfect sense for it to be related to Jisung's birthday, and for me to post this before his birthday. This also gave me the push to really go for sharing this for real! So, thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! This is my debut fanfiction for NCT, so I'm both nervous and excited to post this. And finally, everyone, please give the real Jisung a lot of love, and look at him prettily!

Credits

Header: from Jisung's Instagram post

Dividers: by enchanthings

References to this poem, this song, and the dedication of Book of My Nights

—imagerie, fanfiction written by moraesong on tumblr, posted 2025

[caitlyn-asks]

Decoration Disaster

Caitlyn sets up a design for Ekko and Jinx’s wedding, and things go less than great:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caitlyn: *Caitlyn walked around the booths, picking out gold plates, lavish silverware, white drapes and flowers of white and red* “red symbolizes love, white purity. Oh these are just lovely, Ekko, look at this.” *she lifts a rose shaped centerpiece, made gold, every single inch of the sculpture flawless.* “this is just stunning.”

Ekko: *Ekko scrunched his nose a bit at the sight.. He was an artist, it's not like he couldn't recognize the skill and thought put into these decorations... But they still looked off to him.* "Hm.... I guess, yeah. But it wouldn't complement Jinx and I too well, would it..? It's not like we'll be draped in these... Colors."

*He approached her slowly, taking the centerpiece and giving it a once over, before placing it back down on the table.* "And these flowers..." *He reached over and grabbed a red rose, shaking his head a bit before placing it back in place.* "I was thinking we could go with something a little.. Bolder?"

Caitlyn: *she flinched a little, almost offended* “Bolder? Ekko, these are the most traditionally stunning pieces! Could you two please try to keep it a little traditional? Look at these roses, they’re absolutely stunning. The red will compliment the gold so nicely, and it will match the whites of her gown, correct? She and Violet had gone on a dress search and Vi said she decided on the most lovely dress, she looks beautiful in white”

Ekko: "Yeah... 'S kinda the problem, Cait." *Ekko took a white rose for examination, bringing it close to sniff it before his face quickly turned to one of disappointment.* "If tradition was our thing then maybe we'd be *seeing eye to eye* on this one. But we both know it's not happening."

*He placed the flower back in place again, turning to lean back against the table, ruffling the cloth atop it a bit.* "Besides, can you even call these things flowers..? They have no smell, and they're clearly artificial.... I mean what's the point of the prissy color symbolism if the flower itself isn't even natural?"

Caitlyn: “…shes not wearing white?” *Caitlyn made a face, disappointment or disgust it was hard to tell* “it’s so they don’t attract bugs! And they won’t wilt! You can keep them forever. And they were hand crafted with the finest silk, Ekko.” *that last bit had bite, irritation plastered across her features.* “I’ve been married before. You should listen to my advice.”

Ekko: "Why would I know? One moment you want me to keep up with your tradition mumbo jumbo, the next you want the *groom* to know what the bride will be wearing? Pick one, lady." *He said with a bit of added snark, smirking a little before shaking his head.*

"Bold of you to assume that's gonna work. If things go your way then everyone is gonna have to show up showered in perfumes, which are gonna seep into the silk... You do know silk comes from bugs, right?" *Ekko's question was a little condescending, but he'd be lying if he said that was by accident.* "And what's the point of a flower that doesn't wilt anyway? You have any idea how hard it is to grow anything in the Undercity? We're not busting our chance to get some real plants in here just because Pilties don't know what it means to live in the moment."

Caitlyn: *scoffs, tossing the flower aside. Her mood was quickly changing. How stupid could this man be? It’s tradition!!!* “so tell me what you and that explosive wife of yours wants then? Bombs at every table? And just to be clear, Ekko, doesn’t your wife wear perfume? She smells of it every time I see her. A little cheap to come after me about that” *she rolls her eye, crossing her arms over her chest* “you’ll have bees and wasps, beetles and everything! In everyone’s food and drinks, flying around, gods it will be so annoying! And what more color do you want!? It’s bad enough Violet is letting Jinx ruin a suit with paint balls!”

Ekko: "Wasn't thinkin' about it, but now that you mention it..." *He pauses for a moment, tapping his chin with one finger to pretend like he was really considering the bomb idea.* "She does, yeah... But the difference is she doesn't go around bathing in the stuff. I can't smell her from 50 meters away, unlike basically everyone I bumped into on the way here."

*Ekko scoffed at her words, lowering his head before letting out a small chuckle.* "We get it, Cait. You see every minor inconvenience as a pest. We could install some pipes and pump the booth with some of The Grey before the ceremony starts, if that soothes your mind?" *He pushed away from his leaning position against the table, messing the cloth further before tilting his head slightly to state at her.* "Last I checked Vi suggested it... If you want your little porcelain wedding then you can just ask Vi's hand again.. Can't guarantee her suit won't be "ruined" for it though."

Caitlyn: *she snarls a little, annoyed at his snarky comments* “I came here to help you, not be scolded on my quality taste. If you want to be stung by bees and drinking bugs go right ahead. Real flowers are this way.” *she begins walking, heels clicking against the pavement* “do you even have a color theme?”

Ekko: "If you wanted to help then maybe you could've... Idunno... Asked us what we wanted before you began? If I didn't know better I'd say you just wanna show off how well you can fold a napkin." *He grabbed a little napkin from the table that had been neatly folded into a triangle.... He then disassembled it and quickly folded it into an origami rose, without even looking at it.*

"You don't have to show me the way. Not all of us gotta follow neatly behind you, m'kay?" *He picked up his pace and walked straight past her, shrugging at her question.* "To be honest I've been hoping to do a painting on one of the walls and decorate the place with some colors Jinx and I like... So some greens, oranges, pinks, purples.... Sorry, was that too much? I know looking at more than three colors at a time can be rough on your eye, the eyepatch didn't fly off when you clasped your pearls, did it?"

Caitlyn: *she stops, furrowing her brow* “how you ruin the tradition of weddings is on you and Jinx, not me! But I will remind you who is funding half of this, Ekko. You run off of trade for a living. None of that is paying for your decor, your flowers, any of it. Mind your tongue and show me a little respect, okay?”

*she glanced at the napkin he had folded, sighing and returning her gaze forward, stopping to look at flowers* “Baby’s breath. Blue and white. Hydrangeas, roses, lavender or lilac, take your pick.”

*she steps back, letting him look while she spritzed a little of her own perfume from her bag onto her wrist. The chemical smell was pungent and strong enough to burn out the nose hairs of everyone in Noxus. The smell of artificial vanilla and rose unfavorable*

Ekko: "If you don't wanna see us ruin your dumb little rules, then don't show up. No one's forcing you to, it's our wedding, not yours." *Ekko stopped dead in his tracks as he spoke, slowly turning to face Caitlyn as he made his way back over to her, his eyes narrowing.*

"I'll measure my words around you when you deserve it. Don't forget your place around here, Kiramman.... Mommy isn't calling the shots behind a comfy Council seat anymore, so you don't get to decide what we can and can't do. Did I make myself clear or do you only listen when people enable you?"

*He didn't even bother looking at the flowers. Despite not having seen most of then in person before, his studies made it easy to discard all of those as options. His face contorted into one of disgust as she applied her perfume, forcing a gag out of Ekko's throat before a dry cough.*

Caitlyn: “do not bring up my mother again” *she snarls, glaring at him as he gagged* “what was that for?”

Ekko: "Then stop looking so funny when I do." *He snarled back. It was clear he didn't even find his own comment funny, but the insult was all that counted anyway.* 

*He cleared a stray tear from his face before adjusting his posture, taking a step back.* "Do all Pilties walk with The Grey in their pocket or something?! That was disgusting.. Is everything you use as artificial as your smile? The hell kinda perfume is that..."

Caitlyn: *scoffs* “my smile is real, unlike the demented one Jinx walks around with. And for your information, it’s the top line from R.G Beauty, thank you! Everyone uses this! It’s the best quality brand!”

Ekko: "You'd know about crazy, wouldn't you?" *He raised his back over to cover his face, adjusting it a bit.* 

"Do you always talk about my wife like that or is it just when her sister isn't around?" *The mask made his voice sound a little deeper and more echoing than usual, even if he wasn't specifically playing an intimidating role.* "Best quality in what? Pesticide or toilet cleanser?"

Caitlyn: “oh, please, Ekko, like you’d know quality. You probably get that shitty perfume for her trading a few gears. For your information, the smells of gunpowder and lavender don’t mix,” *she rolled her eyes, making a face* must you wear that stupid thing in public? There are people here! High class, respectable people! At least act like you want to be here and save me the embarrassment.”

Ekko: "At least I can tell apart a poisonous flower from a regular one. I wasn't the one who offered to shove these things near the food." *Ekko reached for dome Hydrangeas, ripping them out of their place and crushing them in his hand. Maybe pettiness was why he wore gloves all the time.* "Why don't you take a bite of one of these things and see what happens if even some of it gets spread over near the food."

*He shoved the crumpled flowers on her hands, before crossing his arms.* "Skin contact can cause rashes and irritation, by the way. But you're already pretty irritating so I doubt you'll mind."

*Ekko's shoulders rose and fell as he chuckled, which slowly turned into a laugh, before he took a small moment to breathe.* "No idea what kind of moron would take up *your* word when it comes to style. You're a one-eyed sharpshooter who somehow feels pride at wearing the peanut patrol uniform. Do you still have the stupid big hat? I'd love to see you wear it at the wedding." *His tone was quickly becoming louder and more aggressive, he wasn't even pretending to care about the people Caitlyn had mentioned. Maybe he even wanted them to hear.*

Caitlyn: *she dropped the crushed petals, wiping her hands with a handkerchief she kept in her back pocket, her nose scrunched.* “poisoning of any kind seems to be that psycho’s line of work, amongst other things, but let’s keep that point aside for now. Last thing I needed today was to be scolded by a man-child who plays at a leader. You don’t fool me, Ekko. You don’t fool anyone. All you have is Piltovers most well known psychopath and a damn tree.” 

*she flicked at his mask,* “you play at politics like you’ve been around it all your life, and it doesn’t work. It’s what got you nearly killed on that bridge, what turned your beloved in to even more of a monster than she already was before, and it is what is keeping Zaun from growing any real power and economy.” 

*she takes a few steps away from him, walking forward as she continues to speak.* “I lost my eye defending Piltover. Fixing my mistakes. You can bend me, Ekko, but you will not break me. So. You have two choices. Treat me with respect and get what you want, or go home and tell your bride to be there was nothing for her here.” 

*she stops in front of a variety of peonies, one of Jinx’s favorites since childhood. She takes one, holding it out to him* “treat me with respect, or keep your mouth shut. What will it be, King of Zaun?” *her tone was sharp and cold, but she kept her face neutral, though her body language was stiff*

Ekko: *Ekko didn't even flinch when she flicked his mask, no, not like he would've even if she punched him... He just silently took off the mask, before holstering it back around his waist.*

*He turned his head off to the left, then the right, listening to the satisfying popping sound from his joints a he loosened up his shoulders a bit.* "I don't have to prove anything to you. I've been leader since I was ten because of your people's incompetence, and I never had to gas anyone. Do you think you could've done better in my shoes, Piltie?"

*Ekko reached for the flower, gently taking it in his hand. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of a real flower. He then placed it down gently on a nearby table, eyes closed the whole time... Until they flicked open as he thread a punch straight to Caitlyn's face after he heard her tell him to shut up.*

Caitlyn: *she stumbled, eye widening as she felt the sting from the force he struck her with. Before reacting she looked around, watching people whisper and murmur, others stare. She could not lash out, not here, she had a name, a reputation to keep. She simply stood tall, gave a little nod and walked away* “good luck with your wedding, Ekko. I will be pulling my funds. I will see you another day, perhaps, when you’ve pulled your head from the dirt and decide to apologize. Until then.”

Ekko: "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you... And if you decide to show up again? Just bring the hat. I called dibs on it already." *He said with a smirk, before going over to remove Caitlyn's decorations... Or destroy them, whatever was faster.*

[kivaember]

ac6 drabbles: DILF

okay didn't write anything yesterday because i had a banging headache and felt pretty bad, but today i feel more refreshed! since i have a large pile of prompts, let's see...

okay gonna do "Also 621 calling Walter "daddy" because I'm a degen" from @arcticarthropod since i am also a degen.

If you wanna know how Walter's design is for my drabbles/stories, this is his design done by my good friend mango!

DILF

'Handler,' came the flat, dispassionate voice of a text-to-speech programme, 'I have a question.'

Walter looked up from his terminal, the screen which was a mess of various sensor readings, data compilations and geographical comparisons, to see C4-621 standing in the doorway of his office.

Wasn't a very impressive office - more like a shoebox with an uneven desk crammed in, the surface which supported an ancient terminal, a far more modern laptop, and various datapads that he had collected over the decades. Most of the floorspace in this repurposed building was set aside as the garage, tending to the far more important asset of their AC and its various support auxiliaries. There was also an administration area for the technicans to sleep in, and C4-621 had his own space to decompress in, but usually Walter was left alone in this little, out of the way shoebox of an office, and it was how he liked it.

Still, he encouraged C4-621 to approach him if he needed something, if only because his hound would literally just stand in a corner staring vacantly at the wall if left to his own devices for too long. Walter had long grown used to his hound approaching him at random hours requesting 'enrichment' or 'tasking', and as a result his drawer was full of miscellenous things that he'd hand over.

Last time he'd given him a ball of yarn Carla had, for unknown reasons, bundled in with their regular supply drop. Walter had handed the yarn over and told C4-621 to practice cat's cradle (after showing him what that was exactly) and hadn't seen him for an entire day. He'd actually ended up going to hunt for him, and found C4-621 sadly entangled in the yarn, giving him a woebegotten look at his 'failure' to 'achieve his assigned objective'.

"What is it, 621?" he asked, half-expecting it to be something either totally mundane or off-the-wall insane. There was no inbetween with C4-621.

'I was observing the technicians earlier,' C4-621 inputted into his communication device. 'They mentioned a term I didn't know, but when I asked them to clarify, they said to ask you.'

Off-the-wall insane, then. Those technicains were RaD men Carla had sent over on loan. No doubt they were sniggering away in the garage, slapping each other on the back, thinking of innocently oblivious C4-621 asking Walter something potentially obscene.

So, Walter drew in a deep breath and braced himself, asking tiredly: "What's the term?"

"D-I-L-F."

Walter briefly raised his gaze to the ceiling in exasperation.

"...it's not relevant for you to know, 621," he finally said. "Ignore it."

C4-621 didn't immediately respond. He didn't type anything, but neither did he move. Instead, he shuffled his weight slightly, turning his communication device over and over in his hands. Walter recognised the behaviour: C4-621 wanted to press the question, but his instilled obedience to a higher authority strangled his nerve. The fact he was so openly dithering, though, meant he was getting a little bolder. Before, when they first arrived on Rubicon, he would've simply nodded and dropped the whole thing immediately.

Walter stoically waited him out. He returned to his terminal and continued to work, and after ten minutes of C4-621 awkwardly hovering in the doorway, his hound spoke again: 'They asked if I thought you were a DILF.'

Of course they did.

'I said I wasn't sure of what that term was, and they said to ask you, but that it is normally considered a compliment. So I said, yes, I viewed you as a DILF.'

Of course he did.

"621," Walter said, almost helplessly. He looked at him, unable to get a read on C4-621's impregnable expression. "You shouldn't blindly agree to things, especially where Carla's men are concerned. I've told you this."

'Sorry,' C4-621 said. 'Did they trick me again?'

Well. Walter was sort of stuck here. He didn't want to explain what DILF was, because Walter had waded once into the topic of sex with C4-621 and it had been the most surreal conversation he had ever had (and increasingly drove his suspicions that C4-621 was either raised in an attic as a child or by alien wolves), but on the other, Walter just knew that C4-621 would immediately go back to those technicians and say "Handler wouldn't tell me :c" and who knew what nonsense they'd fill C4-621's head with.

He sighed, defeated.

"DILF means... 'daddy I'd like to fuck'," Walter said stonily. "They were asking if you thought I was sexually attractive, 621."

C4-621 did not look flustered or embarrassed or otherwise startled at this information. He absorbed it, applying its definition to memory, and stared intently at Walter in an evaluating manner.

Finally, he nodded.

'Then my opinion remains unchanged,' he said, and promptly left before Walter could even react to that.

A reaction that was just a blink and a blank stare at the now empty doorway. After a moment of dumb staring, however, Walter just shook his head and decided to chalk it up to C4-621 being... C4-621.

Who knew what went through the head of that hound of his...

[warheittiashi]

Voyeurism/Exhibitionism. Yep, that's what I'm dealing with right now.

I'm kind of struggling because I'm writing these stories out by the day. Who is to blame? Why, my greatest enemy. Me. Honestly, I should have written ahead of schedule, but I only decided a day before October to even do the Kinktober challenge.

That being said, time to treat myself a little with some good old LiuJiu and one-sided LuoShen.

I will actually try to keep it short this time. Let's try jumping straight into the scene.

Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu are not partners. Due to some complications (aphrodisiac plant maybe?), they tossed each other around. Somehow, they began to see each other regularly.

This begins with them sparring, going deeper into the bamboo forest. They keep it up until they are completely alone.

Standing across from each other, Liu Qingge sheathes his sword and approaches the panting Shen Jiu. His hand slides down Shen Jiu's arm until he is holding a hand loosely holding onto the hilt of a sword.

Shen Jiu drops Xiu Ya, the blade piercing the ground.

Liu Qingge pushes Shen Jiu roughly against a boulder. They begin to rid each other of their clothing. Desperate hands tugged hatefully on tightly knotted sashes. Soon, their skins touched.

Liu Qingge makes a mess out of both of them. It had been a while since they last did this. He had been sent on a mission that lasted for 3 months, and he missed this.

Liu Qingge thinks that despite the time apart, Shen Jiu was still his.

He notices the sound of a tree branch snapping and looks up to see the wide eyes of a Qing Jing disciple. Shen Jiu was so lost in his lust that he didn't hear it.

Liu Qingge recognizes the boy as Luo Binghe. The child was talented for sure, but he felt nothing but irritation. He noticed the way the child had been looking at Shen Jiu, especially when the scholar began to take notice of his talents.

The boy had become much bolder. He heard the way the child would chase Yue Qingyuan off the peak, and he'd been on the end of the boy's petulant glare when Shen Jiu allowed him into his home.

Feeling a surge of possessiveness, Liu Qingge maintained eye contact as he took Shen Jiu apart. He pressed his lips to the back of Shen Jiu's ear, pressing his hips tightly until all movement was suppressed.

"Who is making you feel this good? You want to cum right?"

"Liu-Shidi..."

"And who do you belong to?"

Shen Jiu managed to glare through his tears, piercing Liu Qingge's heart. "No one... I belong to me."

Liu Qingge sets a punishing pace, but he makes sure that the boy knows his place. His release took him by surprise, and his eyes clenched at the onslaught of pleasure. When he opened them again, the boy was gone.

Back with Luo Binghe, he felt his heart breaking in two. However, he didn't lose hope. Shen Jiu said he belonged to no one which means he wasn't technically with Liu Qingge - not in the way that matters.

Luo Binghe reaches into his pants to reposition himself, hissing at the friction of his palm on his sensitive length. He rearranged it so that it was held flat by his waistband. He couldn't walk to the privacy of his woodshed without passing through the buildings, and he wouldn't want anyone to see his current state.

Aaaaaaaaaand, yeah, that's about it. Reading through it, it looks like it'll be at least 2k... Well, I'll see how I can work it out.

Then for now, a jaunty adieu.

[phantasmalnightmare]

Gundham grit his teeth as he realized that he could not, in fact, remember most of those things that she so desperately wished to know. Although as to why she wanted so many useless facts concerning his childhood, was beyond him. "I have but one of those answers I am afraid. The first creature to earn my friendship, was our house feline. His name was Onyx. Soon to follow, was a squirrel and a crow that I had started sharing some morsels with." Luckily, his Mom caught him feeding the critters scraps not long after he'd started, and she'd bought Gundham some nuts and seeds to offer them instead.

"Your Father enjoyed Gundam? That is a rather interesting choice for a King." It was hard to imagine a member of royalty watching the mecha anime, but Sonia's father seemed to be anything but a normal King, at least from what he'd heard about the man.

Once again, the breeder expected her to step away when he hugged her, to flinch, for her body to tense, for anything, but her returning his hug. Surely, earlier had been a fluke: A momentary weakness because she'd been crying. Yet, she wrapped her arms around his torso, even going so far as to rest her head upon his shoulder. It was almost as if she desired the touch as much as he did, but that was impossible. Right? His heart raced loudly as her skin touched his own, sending small shocks throughout his body. He could smell the shampoo she used, the underlying hint of wine and.. spiced whiskey. Something he could tell that she relied on much too heavily since they'd woken up. He wished he could replace her dependence on the alcoholic beverage with himself: With his embrace, his warm kisses, and his body on top of hers.

His cheeks reddened as his thoughts drifted. What was he thinking? He was simply comforting a friend when she needed a hug, nothing more. "Perhaps to you I was never poisonous." He muttered, trying to pull his thoughts away from the devious path they'd been on. Gundham didn't deserve to heal, to be with the woman he loved in that way. The words he spoke to her felt almost hollow, as he himself couldn't imagine moving on from what he'd done, even though he wanted her to. It was incredibly hypocritical, he thought as he reluctantly let go of her, and he supposed he should try and follow his own advice. Yet it was so hard, when the screams of the past constantly broke through whatever little peace he made.

His body stiffened as he set down the plates, the only indication he'd heard her. "I... am sorry too." Was all he managed to get out in response. For helping to kill her parents... Something he'd had a much more involved role in then his Mother's death. He took the seat across from her, trying to take his mind off of the past, if only for a bit. The wine helped, as he took another sip, and he found himself anxiously awaiting her response as to whether she liked the spaghetti. He didn't quite understand the French she spoke, but he got the message more or less. "Itadakimasu." He agreed.

He knew he was rusty, as he hadn't cooked in quite some time, so he hoped that it came out decently. He took a bite to give it a taste, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that it had come out just the way he'd used to make it, despite the wine and many distractions. There was something so intimate about sharing a candlelit dinner with her, especially since he'd cooked for just the two of them. He'd thought the whole night had felt like a date, but this took the cake. He was suddenly aware that he was probably over dressed in his suit. Maybe the candles had been too much? But hadn't she suggested them?

Gundham's cheeks turned more red as she spoke of a side only she got to see. "Thank you." He suddenly felt the urge to pull his scarf up, just as he'd used to do, except he wasn't wearing one. She could likely see how red he was, but the wine was making him feel just a little bolder. "I have always shown you many more sides, that no one else can see. You, who have always accepted me for who I am, flaws and bravado and all. I hope to stay by your side forever, showing you new sides of who I am. The good and the bad."

As if he could eat his embarrassment away, or just to hide his face perhaps just a little bit, he took a slow bite of garlic bread. "I.. am glad you enjoy the dish. It is the first time I have cooked since before... the Tragedy I believe." He didn't remember cooking as a Remnant. His animal army had to eat of course, but he couldn't remember if he'd prepared them meals, or they'd simply ate their fill of flesh. The latter seemed more likely. He downed the rest of his wine and continued to eat, suddenly feeling too bashful to say anything else. What had he been thinking? The wine was making him so sappy, and much more forthcoming about his emotions than usual.

Sonia smiled, as much as she could under the circumstances. Mrs. Tanaka, like so many others, had died. "Oh, what your favorite toys and books were, and what you liked to eat the most, and most likely what animals you befriended as a child," She replied, listing all sorts of things that she suspected he might not remember but surely his mother would. She seemed like an attentive, loving sort of person: in contrast, her own mother couldn't name a favorite movie of her daughter's, when she'd been alive. And had often stated only 'pleasant and highbrow' books were the sort her daughter read: limited to the classics and important biographies only, practically a list to be respected by the old money upperclass. And while Sonia had read everything on that list, she adored horror, mystery, and romance the most, all things that had once been inappropriate dinner conversation.

Now, that inappropriate dinner conversation was how they'd committed murder and how they remembered each other's atrocious actions. "I am sure he would have loved to meet you too," She swallowed, trying not to picture the last time they'd both seen him in her mind. "Admittedly, I rather expect he would have been fascinated by the origins of your name. He enjoyed the Gundam mecha series greatly, knew all of the fictional political factions, the spacecrafts, and the mobile suits themselves." To that end, she'd seen far more of the space war politics show than most Novosonian children: those and the Godzilla movies had been her father's way of spending time relaxing with his daughter, when he wasn't teaching her the necessary skills of a monarch.

Maybe she'd said too much about him anyway, babbling on about her father while Gundham saw to the garlic bread. He insisted that she saw through him and understood him, and yet Sonia hadn't thought that he'd reach out to hold her afterwards. The morning had been an apology, possibly a fluke, but this one...this one Sonia couldn't explain. All she could do was what her heart wanted: to be pulled into Gundham's embrace. Warm, for the former Supreme Overlord of Ice, and with the gentle fragrance of cologne. In the simulation, he'd always smelled faintly of the Dark Devas who lived in his scarf, but they were gone. "Oh Gundham," She murmured into his shoulder, her arms falling away from her torso and finding their way around him instead. "You were never poisonous, not then and not now." She couldn't agree with him about becoming a better ruler: Sonia wasn't sure that was possible. But in that kitchen, with her arms around him and her head against his shoulder, she could at least say with absolute certainty that nothing about him could kill anyone anymore, especially her.

It wasn't until he let go that she realized just how healing his embrace had been. Maybe he was right, in part: if they spoke of their lives before The Tragedy, they could begin to move forward in their future by acknowledging their past. She wasn't sure what to say: of course it was good that he didn't have to hold onto the shame of his mother's death by his own hands, but that likely didn't make it any easier. "I am sorry," Sonia replied, "For your mother's death, and your part in everything afterwards." Acknowledging his father sounded horrible and gave Junko Enoshima the perfect opportunity to manipulate him seemed counterproductive: arranging the proper tableware, however, was the opposite. Between the two of them, everything had been set quickly and Sonia sank into the chair Gundham had pulled out for her. "Thank you, I am eager to try it," She replied. It was an abandoned island with a mostly-forgotten hotel filled with traumatized former murderers and their caretakers, but she couldn't rid herself of the feeling that, with the set table, the candlelight, and Gundham reappearing shortly with plates of food and refreshed wine glasses...it felt rather like a date.

Sonia felt her cheeks grow hot and was thankful for the low lighting in the hotel's dining room. What an outlandish thing: a date, after everything she'd done in The Tragedy. After everything she felt for him, it was ridiculous to believe he could feel similarly about her. Still, she looked at him with something she hadn't felt in ages: hope. And gratitude. And longing.

"Oui, merci beaucoup et bon appétit," She said in return, utilizing one of Novoselic's primary languages for once. She hardly ever did anymore: speaking in French or Italian only reminded her she would be returning home and likely not speaking much Japanese ever again. Eager to not consider that likely future, she followed suit with the spaghetti, twirling it on her fork and carefully taking a bite.

It wasn't complex, but it was cozy, garlic and basil and tomato filling her mouth alongside a hint of parmesan cheese (when had the island gotten a shipment of that? Still, she was happy it had). Sonia chewed, swallowed, and smiled across the table at him, her fork twirling another bite around the tines. "It is warm, and delicious, and flavorful, and comforting," She told him honestly. "It is like being in your kitchen. It is greeting a side of you I did not know existed until tonight, and I am so very lucky to meet it."

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

summary: because what’s sexier than seeing you in red lipstick? 💄

warnings: fluff, humour, slightly explicit (minors DNI!)

a/n: on an ADCU spree so I figured it’s the best time to write my own, courtesy of @safarigirlsp​ & @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather​ for continuously feeding my obsession hehe! pls pls pls give their work some extra love!! and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

Le Gris' own presence exudes confidence, ferocity, and allure, and his lady is no different. What better way to show the men who envy him the same way the ladies do with you than by bringing you the best of the best? He will settle for nothing less, especially when it comes to your comfort and the like, and he will know if they're not up to par.

Old-timey Jacques will indirectly criticize the maiden in charge, knowing they probably did so to make you seem 'less appealing' to your very own lover, but many seem to forget that he was extremely smart just as he was your doting husband. Just a quick exile over here, a simple repeat of his demand for the best over there and boom, he's back to being happy ol' Le Gris. Modern Jacques is no different, for he would easily purchase the shades you'd swatch and hum to yourself, knowing if he heard how much you liked it, he'd buy the whole store for you. Do you want them personalised, too? Go right on ahead!

And that's not a threat, it's a promise.

“You should never settle for anything less, ma chérie. I shall not allow it.” He’d chime in as soon as he sees your eyes sparkle at the new case with both wonderment and guilt. If you offer to repay him for his endless gifts, he will ask for your kisses, complete with the new set he’s given you, but ever the lover boy that he is, you know good and well it won’t end with just kisses.

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

Ever heard of the saying "the fortune favours the bold"? He doesn't need to hear from Stallworth that Flip has in fact 'loosen up' upon being graced by your existence. He does, however, preen in the knowledge that since knowing you, he's become bold. Well, bolder than he already was. Where has uncertainty brought him in life? But as much as he'd like to deny till the end of time, he's nearly done it before.

Keyword: nearly.

The day you met, he wondered if he had died in a shootout and met hell's personal It girl—no angel could pull off the devil's shade with pride the way you do. Had he continued to mask his hesitancy by returning your undeterred gaze, he'd be the biggest fool for letting you go.

He'd clock in work with your lipstick stains if he could. Public indecency be damned! He'd fight everyone and anyone if he hears another person talk about it as a form of embarrassment.

"S'not my fault you don't have a pretty girl to come home to." He'd shrug, though the wolfish smile told the poor bastard everything that he felt. Was he wrong? No. Was he going to fight Flip for publicly embarrassing him with the truth? Absolutely not; your husband would probably knock him out before the guy could even land a hit.

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

To think there were more red lipstick shades than he could count with his good hand. In all honesty, he really doesn't have a favourite nor does it matter if it's even red or not. That's not to say he doesn't care because clearly, he does, but only in the sense that it makes you happy. You are the professional in this particular field, after all. But best believe the happiness that heightens in him whenever you'd ask for his opinion.

Still, the colour red does, however, as the current generation says, 'hits different'. Unsubtle glances from his patrons were a normal occurrence but they never got any easier by the day. But, on the other hand? He’s the lucky son of a gun who gets to call you ‘his’.

But the man loves his kisses, and kisses he will get! With your frequent visits to the bar, you'll never let this man work without at least a peck on the cheek. Seeing his signature pout lift to the bashful smile we know and love (the audacity) takes no effort.

“Y’know just how to make a man happy, sugar.” He’d murmured against your lips, his sudden boldness not surprising you but instead, his customers, who were only giving him shit but also openly ogling at you not too long ago.

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

Whether you think of our ol’ touch-starved leader, the vampire, the knight, or whatever suits your fancy, Kylo will want nothing more than the top-notch of things for his darling, and your preference for lipstick shouldn’t be any different! He, in a way, is an embodiment of red—his passion for both his belief, his interest, and especially, his devotion to you. So, to see the very same colour he associates closely with, other than black, be embraced as your very own as well? He shouldn’t be surprised that most, if not all of his elation are sourced from you in general.

He’s a busy man, but he will not miss the opportunity to watch you apply your colour of the day with great care. He’s unconsciously smiling, lost in your melodic hum as his vow to keep you out of harm’s way grows stronger. He’s been through hell and back to survive, and he’d have no problem doing the same it’s to ensure you leave the danger zone unscathed. So, if something as simple as red lipstick makes you happy, then don’t be surprised if you see a new one even before your current one runs out.

And although all kisses are good kisses, don’t think he won’t pull you in for a real one once the smooching fest starts. You’re worried about leaving a stain? Don’t be! His men/subordinates don’t have the balls to point them out, knowing by doing so is a game over for them.

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

The man eats, sleeps, and breathes art, so it's knowing his beloved has her very own is a major plus! One would think nothing impresses him anymore, or at least, not as much as his own work, but oh, were they dead wrong. There hasn't been a day where the lipstick holder on your vanity table never makes him puff out his chest with pride. From the simple matte ones he'd buy after a random day at work simply because it reminds him of you, to the high-end bold to burgundy ones personalised with your name engraved on the case. C’mon, what harm would it do to him for paying a couple of hundreds for makeup as one of his ways to say thank you to his wife—his muse!

Charlie embraces this as your form of art; the shades, the textures, the right amount of shine or shimmer—just anything that screams you. Artistry performed best by his one and only.

And how could he forget about the polaroids you both have? Yours which has him covered in your lipstick stains and face in absolute bliss? His which were you kissing the area close to his happy trail, leaving the same shade colour to his toned body?

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

Another hunk who really just finds your confidence in whichever you find is best is more than enough, because what's better than his girl's own joy? Even so, if red really speaks to you, then don't be surprised he takes advantage of it. If the numerous times you've caught him staring at your lips and even shamelessly holding your gaze doesn't tell you anything, then the instance he wraps his arms around you for a little while longer before pressing his lips onto yours definitely should.

And if we're talking about the whole time-travelling shebang and somehow, you had to make your own lipstick? Wowie. This man will scour every nook and cranny for the ingredients if you asked him to. Best believe he will find what you need!

If it means getting the opportunity to see you do your thing in your colour and being able to wipe off the accidental smear just after you've applied it, that man is on a mission.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

You can tell that I lost my roll towards the end HAHAHA but if you’re wondering what lipstick in particular inspired me to write this, it’s:

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

[library-of-ohara]

Hiii! Could I request Kidd, Thatch and Smoker and their reactions to a gn reader having an obvious crush on them. Thank you everyone, love the event so much!!

requested by: anon written by: lemon (@eustasssimp) a/n: my favorite boysssss

Kid, Thatch, Smoker x GN reader

SFW Prompt: Reader has an obvious crush wc: 1k

Kid thinks it's funny, how hard you try to hide it. But how could anyone miss the way you stutter as soon as he even is in the same room as you? Not to mention how your brain almost visibly malfunctions whenever he's near you.

He would be mean about it, but not because you like him. The tulip loves that you have a crush on him, even if he's super awkward about it at first. When the original internal panic he has subsides, oh boy are you in trouble.

Eustass Captain Kid is a cocky motherfucker, he's hot shit and he knows it, and would purposely flaunt himself around you just to see you get flustered. Doing bolder makeup, wearing even wider v-neck shirts, making sure to come talk to you when he comes out of his workshop. He doesn't quite get it, but you seem to be even more flustered when he’s covered in grease after a hard days work.

He'd get more touchy with you, nothing directly inappropriate but he'd sling an arm around your shoulder, tug you somewhere by your hand, loom behind you with his chest against your back if someone tries to hit on you at the bar. His heart flutters when he feels your muscles tense from his touch and your breath getting caught in your throat.

His own teasing of you would drive him crazy as well, though. If he didn't originally have them, thinking about how you have feelings for him would accidentally make the emotionally-clueless idiot get feelings for you too, and he'd get himself flustered by some of his own antics.

If it went on for long enough, he would get tired of waiting for you to confess and accidentally give you the cold shoulder in frustration. He doesn't want to be the first to confess, and would much rather have you do it first, but if you make him wait long enough he'd stomp over to you to confess in a completely out of the blue angry huff.

Thatch thinks you are just the sweetest thing. Sweeter than any dessert he could ever cook up, at least. He teases you a lot, but in much more subtle ways than Kid.

Asking you if his pompadour looks okay, if you could tie his scarf, roll his sleeves up for him because his hands are covered in flour, a lot of little things to keep you close to him and to see the blush on your cheeks as you help him. If you hadn't been helping him in the kitchen before he caught onto your crush, rest assured you'd be spending a lot more time in the kitchen.

Calls you more nicknames than he does other people, names like sugar, honey, sweetheart rolling off his tongue in a way that makes your knees weak.

He'd call you over in a tone so warm it's hard to resist, asking you to taste test for him. "Thank you, sugar," He'd say as he lifted the spoon to your mouth. It would be hard for him not to smile at the way your cheeks burned. "You're the best one for the job, my own personal taste tester"

Thatch would shower you in silly pick up lines, calling you a cute-cumber whenever he was making a vegetable dish. "Thatch it's a zucchini," the way you giggled at his terrible, and inaccurate, pun set his heart racing in a way he hadn't felt since he was a younger man.

He would ask you out with a food pun so bad you would have said no if he wasn't so damn irresistible. "Thatch, I can't find the raisin's you asked me for," You had scoured the cabinets for a long time looking for the dried fruit. Before you knew it, the chef was behind you, pretending to look at the shelf while he towered over you. "Hm," He'd say with a hum. Putting a hand on your shoulder and turning you around, you're met with the biggest grin you had seen in a while.

"Well, if there's no raisins, how about a date?"

He tries really hard not to do anything about it when he first gets a hint that you might like him. Smoker, regardless of his own feelings, tries to remain professional at all costs, but he can't help but finding himself wanting to be around you more now that he knows you have a crush on him

It would be slow at first, little things like calling you to his office more, assigning you more tasks. Then he might move your ranks, slowly hopping you to a position that is closer to him more often. He'll try to be sneaky and move other people around too, but you are too acutely aware of the gap that slowly closes between you and the Vice Admiral

If he walked in on training sessions, he would do the "let me help you fix your posture lest you hurt yourself wouldn't that be terrible" thing, letting his hands tap your back, arms, knocking at your legs to help your stances. Though he would try to do the same to other soldiers, Smoker would find it hard not to focus solely on you.

He might even offer to spar you, to help you practice the stances he showed you. It's an offer you couldn't refuse, who wouldn't take the opportunity to fight a Vice Admiral?

Smoker would win, an outcome everyone saw coming from the difference in rank alone, but he would be so kind as to take you to the infirmary. The walk would be silent unless you prompted conversation, but when it came time that he no longer had a reason to linger around you, Smoker would be outfront about.. something like his feelings.

"I'll have to ask you to stay late at work today," His voice would be gruff, his eyes looking anywhere but your own, "You'll get overtime, I'll get you dinner. I just need help with some work."

and that is what oh so romantically turns into your first date.

[echoes-ofdawn]

thinking about kaveh building a humble but obviously aesthetically pleasing, safe and just very him, home in the desert

he'd have a steady job building different infrastructures to slowly but steadily improve the lives of the people in the desert

he'd get sunburns at first because he's not used to the harsh sun but thanks to cyno, he finally stops getting himself burnt... unless hes deep in his mindset, busy with work and forgets about it, which happens often until candance puts the fear of god in him and now hes very careful about it

in the beginning everything is very chaotic and he loses a lot of nights of sleep, doesn't feed himself right and is generally a hot mess for a good while but once all is set in place, things get better

at this time, his hair has grown a bit. who has time for haircuts when there's work to do? he finds that he likes it and keeps it that way. he generally leaves his hair down but on certain occasions he puts it up in a ponytail or a messy bun or even a braid (he never notices it but it draws a lot of stares to him)

as life goes on kaveh notices his home suddenly became fully surrounded by desert foxes. which is rather impressive as theyre extremely skittish of people and the only time desert foxes ever followed him was because of the interdarshan championship task where they got confused because of the ley lines

theyre still very skittish of others but somehow kaveh ends up being different, perhaps the other foxes communicated to their buddies that he was safe

one time alhaitham comes and visits him, naturally they start to bicker. sensing kaveh's distress one of the bolder foxes jumps and bites alhaitham in the hand, effectively surprising the scribe

kaveh worriedly brings alhaitham inside and insists on (tenderly) care for his wound, nothing too serious. still he carefully wraps a bandage around his hand and in a fit of courage kisses it, leaving alhaitham shocked for the second time that day

much later after they finally kiss, eat dinner and settle in bed together, kaveh starts to laugh uncontrollably at alhaitham getting bit by the fox

"see now you have to be nice to me, there's no choice unless you want my foxes to gang up on you" he said with a smug smile.

and with a soft indulging smile, alhaitham agrees "i guess i do"

[byicarus]

carson should have been off-put by all of the hollywood artifice — the fake smiles, the burning hot sets, the pin-pricks from a wardrobe fitting . . . but for every downfall, there was a saving grace. of course, he'd only been corralled into bit parts in movies and the occasional bigger role in a b-movie. a lead role in a vincent josephs film was a sure catapult into the stratosphere of stardom — but that was only if he could make it through a scene without pulling out all of his hair! this was carson's big break, and if he didn't seize the day, he'd probably be put out to pasture soon. it'd all be one hazy, elaborate dream . . . but carson was determined to make a name for himself, and he didn't care at what cost it came. perhaps that was what vincent saw in him — a raw hunger that was eager to sink its teeth into something real, something more than just a sappy romance film, something more than a goofy screwball comedy. vincent was hard on him, harder than any other director he'd known. carson was just trying to live up to the task. "a-and i appreciate all of that, vincent," the raven-haired boy started. his blue eyes were transfixed on the blonde man beside him, his heart racing in his chest. there was a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach, one he couldn't name, one he dared not to think about for too long . . . but it was there nonetheless and not afraid to make itself known. "i just don't know where i'm going wrong. i don't know how to get out of my own way . . . but i will do just about anything to make it happen. i want this — just as much as you do."

carson had never quite felt right with women. he found kissing them awkward, and he shouldn't shake the feeling that he was always doing something wrong. all of his high school romances had been short-lived, and he hadn't had much luck in hollywood either . . . but guys had never crossed his mind once. that was until he was face-to-face with vincent, and he couldn't stop staring at those lips — such a delicate shade of pink that would've put any flower to shame . . . and they looked so soft, even in the golden rays of the california sunshine. you could've told carson that vincent had been painstakingly chiseled by michelangelo, and he wouldn't have doubted it for a second. it was the first time he'd ever really noticed anyone's beauty before. "do you mistake me for a fool, finch? anyone with a pair of eyes can see it," carson barked back. he was following where étienne's heart — or was it his own? — led him. the lines between reality, fantasy, and the story had blurred and morphed into something entirely different. he felt electrified, bolder, daring even . . . he didn't know what was coming over him, but truth be told, carson didn't care. "then why waste your time standing here with me? because you know, no matter what you say, you liked it," carson whispered. his mind was hazy and full of lust. his slacks had become far too tight, and he could've sworn a california heatwave was bursting its way through the josephs estate. he didn't know right from wrong, up from down, left from right . . . but he carried on. when he found himself at vincent's feet, all carson could feel was desire urging him on. "consider this my way of proving it to you, vincent," he whispered, pressing a trail of kisses along the length of his soft, golden soles. carson couldn't stop himself, letting his tongue drag along the sweaty flesh. his lips wrapped around the toes and sucked gently while his baby blue gaze never once left his handsome lover's face. "i don't know what i'm doing," carson admitted sheepishly, "i just know i can't take it any longer." his hands slid up along vincent's sun-kissed legs, sneaking their way up to the bulge protruding from his pants. "i think i'd just about explode if i didn't get touch you. you get so close to me, and i can smell you . . . a-and it drives me crazy. now, i wanna drive you crazy too. and if that means i have to start by kissin' your feet and makin' my way up, well . . . then that's just what i'll do, sir. i need you. you see that now?"

vincent josephs always suspected that he was destined for hollywood stardom — and he was right. he might have been talented enough to act, and even pretty enough to model, but vincent didn't have subservience within him. vincent wanted to be the one calling the shots, wanted his name next to the greats of cinema, and he wouldn't accept it any other way. not everyone who traveled to the city of angels was lucky enough to have such confidence, but vincent was special — and he couldn't help but see inklings of himself in carson. there was no one else that could say they had been invited to vincent josephs' hollywood hills mansion to run lines, nor could anyone say that the eccentric director had risked a major motion picture to ensure their very own piece of fame. vincent couldn't explain what was pulling him toward carson, only that it was strong and relentless. he had no choice but to follow it, to pour his knowledge and energy into the young actor, and hoped they wound up on the other side of a multi-million dollar picture. "listen, kid... there's nobody that believes in you more than i do," vincent sighed, a hand placed on the boy's thigh. "so much so that i stuck my neck out for you, and i don't do that for anyone. i could see your potential the moment you walked through the door, could see that you were born to be on the silver screen. i fought for you because i want to direct you, i want you to help me bring my vision to life — and i know that you can do it, but you're getting in your own way."

it certainly wasn't the first time vincent had another man's lips pressed to his own. his dalliances with the same sex, however taboo, were practically an open secret amongst his peers. carson valentino, however, was not his peer. vincent claimed to be opposed to romantic flings with his talent, even if they were unbelievably gorgeous and entirely his type. he would have loved to believe that he was simply going along with carson's bold attempt to understand his character, that he was being a good mentor — but there was something else afoot. vincent could feel it, jaw-achingly thick and pressed up against his thigh. "what in the world makes you think that you know me, etíenne?" vincent countered, plush lip curled into scowl. "utterly fascinating? then you ask me a couple of questions, mate. you don't kiss your fiancé's brother!" no one knew the characters better than the man who'd written him. finch was stubborn and repressed, and he wouldn't be led down etíenne's rabbit hole easily. vincent, on the other hand, was far too close to caving. it wasn't finch padding across the floor to spread himself out upon the daybed, and it certainly wasn't finch peeking over his shoulder to ensure that carson was following. vincent let out a deep breath, one that he didn't even realizing he was holding onto, as the younger male made his way across the room and fell to his knees. "i'm tired of hearing you say it, carson — show me," vincent tempted, not realizing that he'd let the wrong name slip from his perfect lips. his breath hitched as the boy began kissing his foot, soft toes curling against the his cheek. "you did say that you wanted to worship the ground i walk on... guess that's a pretty good start, isn't it?" the older man chuckled softly. "go on, carson — it's okay, you don't have to pretend to be etíenne anymore. this is what i want, it's what you want... give it to me, babyboy. touch me."

[hush-writes-preg]

if it's not to much trouble could I request some innocence/corruption... I'm a virgin but I always think about getting my boypussy bred by someone much bigger and more experienced than me. Not sure what exactly is happening as my belly and tits swell up, and my body becomes more...fertile looking.

I'm nearly always open to requests, and I try to respond when/if I have the time! Plus this is one of my favorite scenarios, so. *****

You'd always figured that it would be a smart idea to list yourself as a virgin transguy on your Grindr profile. Too many men had expectations for you that were just… a little bit much, and you were afraid of being ridiculed due to your lack of experience. So you added that into the profile section, and sat back to see what would happen.

You ran into a few weirdos, sure, but then you met Allen.

Allen, a big bear of a man almost ten years your senior, who slid into your DMs with a clever joke rather than a dick pic. Allen, whose golden skin and dark eyes spoke of good humor and sparked an unfamiliar heat deep in your gut. Allen, who offered to take you out on a date to your favorite place, and after an incredible night out, took you home and dropped you off with no expectations of anything more.

God, but you quickly found you found yourself crushing on him so hard.

One date turned into two, then three, and after the third date you tentatively opened your door and asked him if he wanted to come inside. His tall, burly form seemed to fill the hallway, but in a way that left your mouth dry with anticipation. You shut the door, turned around, and tried desperately to figure out what you were supposed to do next when he leaned down and kissed you.

Allen's warm, full lips teased yours, chaste at first, but growing bolder as you relaxed and found yourself instinctively opening up to him. His big hand cradled your cheek as he pressed closer, crowding you against the wall, but you didn’t feel threatened. If anything his calm strength and casual dominance left you shuddering, warmth blossoming between your legs in a way you hadn't felt before. Your arms curled around him, clutching shyly at his waist, and Allen chuckled in his deep, stomach-quivering way as he tugged you against his body.

You might have been a virgin, but even you could recognize the hot, thick shaft that pressed against your belly. And you wanted it.

Allen spent the evening showing you pleasures you could have only dreamed of before, stripping you of your virginity much as he'd stripped you of your clothes-- slow, gentle, patient. He opened you up with his fingers before stretching you wide around his impressive cock, letting you set the pace as you took care of the pesky barrier that marked your former chastity. You weren't on the pill, and he didn't have any condoms because he said that they were always too small for him, but he soothed your worries away with his insistence that you couldn't get pregnant the first time around. "Don't worry," he'd said with a smile. "Trust me."

So you did.

And you trusted him to pull out the next time, and the time after that he knew that it was the wrong time of the month to be dangerous, and again, and again, until you finally gave up worrying about protection. Allen wouldn't let you get knocked up. Allen would take care of you.

The months passed by as the two of you grew closer. You removed your 'virgin' status from Grindr, and eventually closed your profile altogether as the two of you became exclusive. Allen kept you well-fucked and sated, but he also treated you like the most precious person in his world, and you fell for him hard.

It wasn't long after you moved in with him that you realized you'd put on some weight. Your pants weren't fitting anymore thanks to a little belly pudge, and the tits you'd always tried so hard to hide grew more tender and felt… bigger. You mentioned it to Allen a few times, but he'd always chuckle and pull you close to kiss the self-consciousness away, reminding you that he found you gorgeous no matter what.

He always had a strange gleam in his eyes when he said that, looking you over in an odd, hungry sort of way, but it was hard to focus on it for long. He'd slide a hand into those too-tight pants and fondle you until you ground helplessly onto his hand, begging for more, thoughts of anything else fleeing from your mind.

You had no idea what was happening to you, even when your tummy became queasy some mornings and your abdomen grew tight. Allen's loving attention always distracted you when you grew too concerned about how your body was changing. In fact, it was almost like he couldn't keep his hands off of you the bigger you got, his large, masculine hands sliding over your newfound curves with a reverence you didn't understand.

After a while, you just stopped caring. Why worry about your swollen tits or the strange flutter in your belly when you had a man so willing to fuck you into next week?

[aggravatetheaxe]

GRABBER X GN READER PT I

I just wanted to get this out there and I haven't even edited it, so sorry if something's weird. I'll probably do a Part 2 because I have Ideas, but I knew I wouldn't be able to finish it tonight so I just wanted to get this out there for now.

Reader is heavily implied to be male but it's never clearly stated.

NSFW, minors please DNI. The Grabber is not a you-know-what and I'm not gonna fight about it so save your energy.

music: x

words: 1,271

Masterlist

***

Boulder probably didn't want you back at this point.

Could you blame them? You'd been taking bribes since the beginning of your tenure. In the back of your mind, you'd known that it was only a matter of time until you were found out. You hadn't expected it to be your best friend ratting you out.

So, your prospects in that town were fucked. Time for a new place. A new best friend. Max still called you sometimes. He was a real loser, but he'd been a good friend in college, and ... hey, now you were a loser, too, right? Permanent stain on your record, no other skills. All 'cause you had wanted a little extra spending cash.

Fuck.

Denver sucked. You had to take a bus to everything. In Boulder, everything was within walking distance - trendy because of the college. Denver was cement and steel. Boulder had grass and trees and beautiful brick buildings. Denver had...

Well, Denver had Al.

Honestly, you couldn't help but cringe at your feelings for Max's older brother. Not only was he off-limits in so many ways, but you weren't usually attracted to men like him. Quiet, mild, awkward. He wasn't exactly the kind of man you tended to attract, either. And yet the way he looked at you with those deep brown eyes ... furtively, almost sadly sometimes. You couldn't help but wonder if there was something between you.

Or maybe he just wanted you to get out of his fucking house - definitely a possibility. Max didn't seem to notice, but Al was obviously inconvenienced by his presence. And then you entered the picture. If he wasn't such a doormat, you imagined he would have put his foot down.

But he didn't. He got real angry sometimes. Furious enough that he shook, at you or at Max. But then he'd go away, and in the morning, everything would be - in his words - peachy keen.

Sometimes he was easy to read; other times, he was impossible. Maybe he felt nothing but contempt for you. He was truly a fucking weirdo - like, just weird as hell - so maybe what you perceived as sexual tension was just him being himself.

The last thing you wanted to do was come on to him and risk your housing and what was left of your reputation. That was another thing about Boulder vs Denver ... no one noticed if you hooked up with a TA. In this stupid suburb, everyone wanted to know your business.

Over time, you'd gotten used to giving the affection you might have given to Al to his dog instead. Not that you'd be taking Al on walks and giving him squeaky toys, but, y'know. He (the human) seemed to like that. Sometimes you'd catch him watching you and Samson, and you'd think he was looking at Mother Theresa.

"You're really not scared of him?" he'd ask.

"Why would I be?"

Most of the time he'd pause, then stutter, then shake his head and say, "Oh, nothing. Never mind." But a couple nights ago, he'd been bolder. Almost - almost - aggressive, like the question was really bothering him. "He's a guard dog! He's trained to kill." Then he'd added as an afterthought, like it might take the edge off his tone, "Silly goose..."

You scoffed, brushing knuckles against your corduroy pants. "Are you gonna set him on me?"

Again, he stuttered, before an answer came to him much more naturally than you'd ever think it could: "Only if you're naughty."

That ... interesting choice of words had zapped your nerves, and you'd been thinking about it ever since. So, he wanted to fuck you, right? Either that or you were going crazy. But how did you come out and ask a man about that? A man like Al Shaw, anyway.

You didn't.

Clearly, though, a man like Al Shaw didn't come out and ask you, either. You skirted around each other in the kitchen, you mumbled good-nights (if he was around; he kept weird hours), cleaned up after Max together silently. If you were lucky enough to get a moment alone where you could speak with him, he was stingy with the eye contact. Like he thought looking at you would make something bad happen to him.

Eventually, you couldn't help it. You asked him about it. It was one of those nights he was puttering around the kitchen, waiting for everyone to go to sleep. He was shirtless this time. He sometimes was, sometimes with that weird illusionist mask on (you didn't ask questions - again, weirdo). But tonight, just shirtless.

"Al."

He jumped slightly and turned. A mug of coffee steamed in one hand. "Huh? What's - Geez, you scared the heck outta me."

"Take a chill pill, boss." You hopped up to sit on the counter, cocking a brow at him. "If you drink that, you'll be up all night."

He averted his eyes, humming against the rim of the mug.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" His shoulders were slumped, like he was trying to hide his bare chest from you. He was so much more comfortable with a sweater on, or those stupid polyester bowling shirts he loved. Why didn't he just wear a shirt? And, of course, he wouldn't look at you.

"About us."

He said nothing, but you could practically hear him tighten up like a rubber band.

"Look, I know you don't like me much. You never look at me, you avoid me. I know you want your house to yourself again. That's fair, man. I have a job interview on Monday."

He raised his head slightly, looking at your knees.

"If everything goes according to plan, I'll be out of your hair in no time. You'll just have to deal with Max, I guess."

Again, he said nothing, and you figured he wasn't going to. That was fine - or that's what you told yourself, despite the way your heart clenched. There was something about this guy...

This was stupid. You slipped off the counter and turned to leave. "Just wanted to keep you upd - "

A hand - way stronger than you could have imagined, and you'd imagined his hands a lot - clamped around your wrist, yanking to turn you toward him again. He was closer than he'd been in weeks, looking down at you with tears in his big brown eyes.

"Don't leave."

You were at a loss for words for a few moments. "I ... but Max - "

"When Max goes, you can stay. You're no trouble. Samson likes you. I like the company. The extra money for mortgage is nice. I don't ... I don't like to cut things out. Balancing the checkbook is so stressful. Daddy left behind a lot, but you know ... I don't make much. I don't make much. You're not in the way. Max can leave. He's always asking for money. But you don't. It's okay. You ... can stay."

It all came out like a deluge, and with each statement, his grip seemed to get tighter. It was your gasp of pain that finally stopped him. He released you as though you'd burned him and took a step back. Neither of you said anything.

Then he turned around, fists curled on the counter, knuckles white - and a voice that hardly sounded like his ground out from his chest: "Get in bed. It's past your bedtime." He drew a shaky breath and managed, "One ... two ..."

Despite you being well into your thirties, you backed out of the kitchen and jogged to the guest bedroom before he could get to three. Your heart raced with fear ... and excitement. No one had ever spoken to you like that, not even your father.

This guy was such a freak.

So why were you throbbing?

***

Part II

Masterlist

[barry-j-blupjeans]

11 from the fluff prompts is giving me Taako or Angus vibes if that strikes your inspiration at all :) love your writing!!

11. “All I’ve ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere I could call home. And you gave me that. Because you are my home.”

--

"I don't know if I can do this," Angus said. "I feel a little queasy, sir."

He did feel very queasy indeed. Ever since Angus had woken up this morning (and a little last night), his stomach had been tossing and turning. Magnus had checked his temperature twice before he let Angus leave the house and Angus was sure he'd still be at home if he hadn't been so insistent on coming.

The backyard of Taako and Lup's jointed house was decorated fairly well. Over the past four years, the celebration of Story and Song had grown tremendously into a weeklong event. Everyone was expected to be at Neverwinter tomorrow afternoon, to give speeches or greet fans or whatever they needed to do. Angus was very excited to be going again, but first...

First, he had to get this out of the way.

"Listen, little man," Taako said, straightening Angus's bowtie. Angus hadn't even noticed it was crooked. "You're what, eight now?"

"I'm fifteen actually, sir-"

"That's irrelevant," Taako said, despite the fact that he had brought it up. "You're fine with public speaking. I should know 'cus I fuckin' hired you to do that."

"Teaching is different than public speaking," Angus said. "And I don't have a problem with public speaking, sir, it's just the... the meat of the matter, if you will."

"I won't," Taako said. "You're fine with public speaking- great, even! You know everyone here. Hell, you know Maggie, and there's no way in hell he's gonna refuse ya. If he does, then like, I don't know, I'll send a few magic missiles his way-"

"Sir!"

"And maybe he'll reconsider."

"But-" Angus started, but it was too late. Kravitz came to stand by the glass sliding door, not so subtlety peeking in to look at them. He had a microphone in his hand. Angus swallowed nervously.

"That's your cue, kid," Taako said, nudging him towards the door. "Just remember DPYP and you'll be fine."

"D- what? What is a- a Dp-" Angus couldn't even begin to pronounce the word that had just come out of Taako's mouth. He's not really sure how Taako had pronounced it at all.

"Don't Piss Your Pants," Taako said like it was obvious. "DPYP. Keep up." Angus couldn't help it, he rolled his eyes.

"I'm fifteen," he said again.

"Then you'll be fine," Taako said, sliding open the door. "Go on. Get."

Kravitz held the microphone out to him, smiling comfortingly.

"You'll be great," he said, pinching Angus's cheek when he took the microphone. Angus squirmed away, rubbing his cheek to get rid of the sting.

"Right," Angus said. The momentary distraction of Taako making fun of him faded away. Angus tiptoed his way to the little stage they had set up- Captain Davenport had given a little speech earlier, but it hadn't been much. He paused at the steps, taking a deep breath. Taako and Kravitz took their seats and from next to them, Lup nudged Magnus hard in the ribs, pointing over the stage.

Angus took a deep breath and made his way up before he could chicken out. The little crowd in the backyard came to a silence relatively fast. A lot of that had to do with Lup leaning over to smack Merle in the head when he didn't shut up fast enough.

"Uhm," Angus said into the mic. All eyes were on him now. He wiped his hand on his pants. "H- hello everyone. Uh, it's nice to see you all again! I'm gonna try to keep this brief.

"Five-ish years ago, I met three men on a train. They all, uh, they all bullied me pretty much that entire train trip, I think. And then threw me off the train."

"Woo!" That was Taako from the audience, which sent a ripple of laughter through the crowd. A little bolder now, Angus continued.

"If you somehow don't know," he said. "Those three men were Taako, Merle, and Magnus. Once I started working with the Bureau, I got to see them a lot more! A lot of Taako, at least, because he was teaching me magic. But eventually, I started hanging out a bit with Merle and Magnus too! It was a really good time, besides the times they all almost died. And did die, I guess.

"I don't know how many of you know this, but before I joined the Bureau, I was just sorta living on my own. Which was fine! I was fine, I had everything I needed. Or at least, I thought I did. But after joining, I realized the one thing that was missing. And- and that was friends!

"I'm not... the best at making friends," Angus laughed, a little nervously, but hardly anyone else did. Kravitz sent him a thumbs up to make him keep going. "But- but it was easier, at the Bureau! And I didn't realize how much those friends meant to me until I didn't get the chance to be with them anymore. After Story and Song, we weren't really living on the moon anymore. I'm sure I could have gotten help somewhere, but I really didn't want to? I- I wanted to be mature and make my own decisions, mostly due to the fact that I knew I could, if I had to.

"But- but then," Angus said. "When I brought that up to Magnus, as I was in the process of moving out, he offered me a place to live. His place, to be exact. And he wouldn't really let me refuse? Uhm, so when I eventually said yes, I didn't really know what I was getting into."

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, finding Magnus in the audience. He was watching attentively, his elbows up on the table and his head in his hands.

"The years that followed were some of the best years of my life," Angus said. "When I was... alone, by myself, I had a lot of thoughts about what would happen next, when really, all I ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere I could call home. And Magnus, with his hospitality, gave me that. Because- because he is my home."

Angus brought a hand up to wipe away his tears. His voice was shaking a little when he went on.

"Which is why I wanted to ask Magnus today, right now, if- if..."

This was it. Magnus's expression had grown a little serious, maybe a little concerned. Lup gave him a big smile. Taako gave an okay sign with his hand.

"If he'd be willing to adopt me," Angus got out, finally. "So I know that no matter where I go and- and what happens, I'll always be able to come back to him. And he can always come back to me. So, uhm, if- if you would like that arrangement, Magnus, please... please let me know?"

A few heads swiveled towards Magnus's direction. Angus's heart clenched uncomfortably in the seconds of silence that followed. But then, Magnus split into a grin. A big, teary grin like he sometimes got when talking about dogs that he really liked or one of his family members or even Julia. He stood up, rounding the table, and rushed to scoop Angus off the stage.

Angus dropped the mic (it made a horrible sound, but he couldn't be bothered) and wrapped his arms around Magnus the best he could, burying his face in his shoulder. He was trying not to cry too hard yet.

"Is- is that a yes?" Angus asked quietly. Magnus pulled back, holding him but the pit of his armpits- he was still amazed Magnus could do that even though Angus was so big now. He was grinning impossibly wider.

"Of course it's a yes, Ango!" Magnus said, sort of teary himself. "I could never say no to this little face!"

He set Angus back down on the stage, pinching at his cheeks like Kravitz had. Through the applause and the tears now streaming down his face, Angus couldn't bring himself to mind the sting as much as he did before.

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Kim Sunwoo - Hands Off [Requested]

softdom!Sunwoo x gf!reader

Request: Sunwoo likes to play with his girlfriend's breasts

Warnings: mentions of bullying, body image, underage drinking, anxiety (very brief), titfucking

Long overdue request for @ace-seventeen-world , I hope you like it! Also first time writing anything about titfucking, I hope it turned out alright. 🙏🏽

Sunwoo loves you even when you don't feel like loving yourself.

Being well-endowed since puberty hit meant you received a lot of unwanted attention from all genders. Some would pass judgement, calling you desperate for attention; and some would ogle and make lewd comments. This led to you coming to school wearing oversized baggy clothes and even turtlenecks no matter the weather. The less your body was apparent for people to judge, the better, you thought. Except the comments never stopped. You were so sick of your body being the talk of the student population of your small-town high school that you couldn't wait to graduate; and move far away to start afresh in college, where you futilely hoped that people would be more mature about these things.

Moving away for college turned out to be the best decision you made. You made a whole bunch of new, more mature friends who taught you to embrace and appreciate your body. Inappropriate comments from strangers still came your way, but with your new, reliable support system, you learnt to shut them out, and your girlfriends would even try to fight them for you, which made you feel very touched and grateful. Apparently, this sincerity didn't stop with just your good friends. That was also how you met your current boyfriend. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a party during your first semester, and you allowed them to doll you up, upon much pestering. You were dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, which turned some heads at the party, and though you felt rather self-conscious in the beginning, you loosened up after a few drinks and dances. From there, you didn't care if people paid good or bad attention to you; all you wanted was to have fun with your best friends.

One of your friends introduced you to a gaggle of other first- and second-years, who were very loud and goofy, except for one; who had previously been laughing boisterously along with them until he set his eyes on you. He abruptly stopped laughing when you made eye contact, and you could have sworn he developed a light flush. With pouty lips and dark eyes, and a mop of fluffy black hair, he smiled shyly at you, nodding in acknowledgement and softly introducing himself. His voice was deep and had an attractive drawl and a pleasant raspiness. His name was Sunwoo, and you ingrained it into your memory easily, smiling shyly back at him. You mostly kept to yourself as the rest of them chatted, nursing your drink when a flurry of words and a loud slap shook you. You whipped around to see one of the boys, with cotton-candy hair and sharp feline eyes rubbing his arm and muttering under his breath next to Sunwoo, who was staring at you while whispering something to the boy - Eric, was it?

"Apologize!" Sunwoo hissed, nudging him. You tried to back off but Eric nervously came forward and rubbed his neck sheepishly, stuttering an apology while avoiding your eyes. He didn't specify what he was apologizing for, but you already had an inkling. All your friends were now staring at you, confused as to what had transpired. Unable to handle the stifling awkwardness, you quickly murmured "It's fine, Eric," before speedwalking away to get some fresh air, unaware that a certain dark-haired boy was scurrying after you. You turned to the nearest balcony and hurriedly gulped some fresh air to calm down, all-too-familiar feelings of panic and shame drowning you. You fought back tears, ignoring some of the smokers occupying the same space, who were looking at you with a mixture of confusion and pity. You managed to calm your breathing, and blink back tears, when a figure slowly comes to stand next to you. He doesn't look at you out of courtesy, fixing his gaze straight ahead. "Are you alright?" he asks softly. You nod firmly, trying to seem completely calm. "Eric... sometimes says things without thinking, but I know that's not an excuse. I just want to apologize again, for making you uncomfortable." His voice is gentle and soothing, and you tilt your head to face him, since he was a bit taller.

"It's not your fault, but thanks Sunwoo. And don't worry, parties aren't really my thing, I just came cause my friends were begging me to join them," you chuckle softly, to which Sunwoo gives you a lopsided grin.

"I feel you on that. I'm here to look after my idiot friends."

You share a good laugh, and spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, but conversation comes easy, like you've known each other for years.

You and Sunwoo's paths seem to cross often, apparently because his faculty was right next to yours, and soon your friend groups merge and become one massive group, and you've even forgiven Eric. Days turned into months, casual meetups turned into lunch and movie dates, and soon you and Sunwoo are constantly switching back and forth staying over at each other's apartments.

Ever since you two started dating and you've gotten used to wearing more comfortable clothes around him, you've noticed him staring at your chest every now and then, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic and embarrassed whenever you catch him. You started to tease him, and he would bashfully hide his face and whine cutely. To get back at you, he'd purposely keep his hands cold and hug you out of nowhere, just to hear you squeal, knowing you're ticklish. Sometimes he'd be even bolder, trailing his hands up your sides and cupping your breasts under your shirt, especially when you walk around the house with no bra on. He'd do it when you're cuddling on the couch watching a movie, or worse, when you're trying to study. You didn't mind it usually, since you appreciated the support from his hands since the weight of your breasts takes a toll on your back, and you weren't fond of wearing a bra 24/7. Except the little shit likes to tease, jiggling them around and squeezing them when he's being extra playful, even grazing your nipples with his fingertips; chuckling lowly in your ear when you gasp or squirm in pleasure.

One night in bed, you confront him jokingly. Your period was on its way soon, and your breasts were feeling extra tender and swollen, something you had complained about, so your dear boyfriend very happily obliged, massaging them gently to ease your discomfort. After a while he gets bored, and starts prodding them, round eyes watching intently as they bounce. You can't help but laugh at how adorably fascinated he looks, so you ask him why he's so enamored by your boobs.

"They're just.. fun to play with, yknow? Bouncy and squishy. Can't help myself okay, you're just so perfect," Sunwoo grumbles, blushing again since he got caught.

"Yeah? What if I lose weight and they get smaller? Will you still like me then?" you ask, feeling rather self-conscious, irrational worries that he only likes you for your assets filling your mind. You try to ignore them, knowing your relationship with Sunwoo was much more than superficial, but trauma and bad memories keep causing you to doubt yourself.

"Of course I would!" Sunwoo gasps, reaching up to hold your face urgently but with such a tender gaze in his eyes. "It's still you, and you'll always be perfect, and I love you no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes when he said those words. Few people had treated you with such genuine kindness and you were so grateful to have him as your partner. You squished his cheeks together and pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising him. "I love you too, Sunwoo," you whispered, a small smile on your teary face. A cheeky grin slowly replaces the shock on his face. "Shall I show you just how much I love you?" he drawls, crawling on top of you, making you lay down on the bed. Sunwoo positions you to nestle comfortably against the pillows, helping you take your shirt off afterwards.

Your cheeks start to heat up at Sunwoo's intense gaze raking over your body, and your arms habitually come up to shield your breasts, but he's quick to catch them, gently pulling them away. "Don't be shy. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, inside and out," he murmurs, making you blush even harder. He kisses you deeply, before trailing his lips down, pressing light kisses down your neck and across your chest, gently nipping at the skin just above your right nipple. He resumes massaging your breasts, admiring the way your face scrunches up cutely in pleasure, his warm hands on your skin making you sigh happily. He leans down again, tracing a circle around your areola, making you shiver. He teases you a little more, flicking your hardened nub with his tongue before finally latching on and suckling on it, rubbing it periodically with his tongue. His hands are still massaging your breasts, twisting and tugging on your other nipple.

He pulls off with a satisfied 'pop' when you whine, pleased with how raw and puffy your nipple has become, glistening with an abundance of his spit. He dives back down to subject your other nipple to the same treatment, but this time, his free hand creeps down your tummy and between your thighs. You moan when he grazes your clit with his fingertips, and you can feel his plush lips smirk into your skin, obviously proud of himself. You willingly part your legs, and he dips his middle finger straight into your folds, your juices coating his finger instantly. He raises his head to look at you, eyebrows raised cheekily. "So wet already, babe? Always knew your nipples were so sensitive," he chuckles, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. You shut your eyes, the stimulation of his mouth on your chest and his hand on your pussy clouding your mind. He inserts another finger and pumps you faster while he drags his teeth against your puffy nipple, making you shiver and moan even louder.

He starts leaving hickeys and bites all over your decolletage, looking forward to seeing those pretty marks bloom purple tomorrow morning. Finally, he eases up on his ministrations on your chest, and focused on fucking you hard and fast with his fingers, slamming three digits into your core, gleefully watching the way your breasts jiggle from the impact. He glances up at your face, finding your head tossed back, soft mewls and moans falling from raw, bitten lips. You're clutching the bedsheets in a death grip as Sunwoo starts sucking on your clit as he fingers you. He sucks hard, nudging it with his tongue every so often as he slows down his thrusts, opting to scissor you open and drag his fingertips along your walls, rubbing hard against your g-spot when he finds it, indicated by your shrill yelp. "B-babe, gonna c-cum," you gasp, still writhing in pleasure. "Go on, love, cum for me," he mumbles against your core, and soon you're clenching on his fingers, coating them with your cum, and he continues to fuck you through your climax.

Gasping for air, you wince as he pulls his fingers out, pussy clenching on nothing as you watch him idly put them in his mouth, sucking them clean. He smiles lazily at you, telling you how sweet you taste and even gives you a kiss, making you taste yourself. Your cheeks turn crimson again, and you decide you want to return the favor, having felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh when he leaned down to kiss you. You eye the tent in his jeans, and start unbuckling his belt. He looks at you in alarm, grasping your hands to stop you. "Baby, you don't have to do that, this is about you," he smiles gently. You pout at him. "But I wanna help you too! I have an idea that I always wanted to try with you…" Sunwoo takes a moment to consider, making sure you were genuinely comfortable doing so, and his eyes glimmer with anticipation when he nods in agreement. You beam wordlessly at him, helping him out of his jeans and boxers. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock.

Sunwoo's dick always made you feel good, whether it was fucking your pussy or your throat, but you always wondered what it would feel like sliding between your bountiful breasts. You pull him up to straddle your chest, and his eyes widen when he realizes what you want him to do. "Really?" he gasps, dick twitching with excitement when you readily nod. He chokes on a moan when you swipe your finger up his cock, gathering his dripping precum to slather it between your breasts. He slowly slides his dick into the valley between your breasts as your hands push them together, making it even tighter around him, and he groans lowly. Sunwoo thrusts shallowly, loving the way the smooth skin of your breasts feels around his aching cock. He begins to take over, his larger, warmer hands replacing yours, squishing your tits together as he rocks his hips faster, becoming addicted to the the feeling. It wasn't much physical stimulation for you, but you felt yourself getting hot again watching his face contort in pleasure, his tightening grip on your tender, sensitive breasts rather arousing. You can't look away, mesmerized by how good he looks with his lower lip caught between his teeth, grunting softly as he uses your tits to get himself off.

"You look so hot like this Sunwoo," you murmur, your hand resting on his thigh as he continues to piston his hips. He barks out a breathless laugh, "Have you looked at yourself properly? You're fucking gorgeous, babe, don't you ever forget that. Although, I'm down to remind you all the time." he winks. You smirk at him, and your hands come up to squeeze his muscular ass, the same way he likes to squeeze your boobs. He's got a nice butt, you had to admit, toned and sculpted from years of various sports, and it was your weakness the same way your breasts were his. He moans louder when he feels you groping his ass, hips stuttering as he approaches his climax. He throws his head back as he fucks erratically, squishing your tits even tighter together and you keen at the rough treatment. You coax him in a soft whisper to cum all over your tits, and soon he does, painting your chest white as his hips slow down, and he's gasping for air. A little bit of his cum has spurted onto your lips, but you willingly lick it up and smile up at him, your hands still soothingly rubbing his cheeks as he comes down from his high.

You grab some wet tissues from your bedside drawers and clean up your chest as best as you could, wiping away all the cum before Sunwoo flops next to you, resting his head on your chest the way he usually loves to. You lay there in comfortable silence for a while more, stroking his hair and you feel him smile into your skin, his finger absentmindedly tracing the hickeys he's left across your breasts. Maybe going to that party all those months ago was the best decision you ever made (second only to moving here for college), and maybe you and Sunwoo finally get out of bed to shower, and maybe you go for a second round in the bathroom, filling the steamy air with echoes of wet skin slapping and soft proclamations of 'I love you's.