#slight role models

[hoshigray]

Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!”��

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[smileysuh]

model cowboy

🌙 starring. Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun's motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.  You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue. 

tw/cw. unprotected sex, dry humping, breast worship, slow and adequate foreplay/pussy stretching/prepping, pussy eating, fingering, praise, slight switchy power dynamic but Jae is generally the dom/top, slight overstim, face riding, slight hair pulling, precum (jae is horny), dirty talk, sappy sex, alcohol, etc… I pet names: (hers) superstar.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.2k

🍭 aus.actor!Jaehyun, singer!y/n, fake dating au, enemies to lovers au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. it was actually so fun to have small clips of TMZ style gossip reporting- loved that I was able to try different things with this fic :)

Prologue

In this week's news, our favorite kids' show alumni are back on the scene together. Beloved model and actor Jung Jaehyun teams up with childhood costar (y/n) (l/n) for her new single Model Cowboy. This song will mark the kick-off of her third album, and the music video is set to start production sometime early next month, with the song coming out on iTunes and other streaming platforms sometime in the new year.

There’s a lot of buzz on social media about this pairing, as the two stars were ‘shipped’ incessantly in their teen years, with one user commenting, “It’s like Britney and Justin Timberlake all over again! Ah!!!!!”

While Jaehyun has had a string of relationships over the years, our favorite girl power singer y/n has only recently ended a long-term relationship with football player Lee Jeno. When asked how this separation would affect her new album, y/n had this to say: “I want to draw on the pain of a breakup because that feeling is so universal, but at the same time, I want the album to be fun. It’s about ending one cycle, and sure, giving yourself the space and grace to mourn that loss, but also looking forward at the future and other opportunities that come your way when you go through something like that.”

When asked about the new single Model Cowboy, y/n noted, “It’s about going back to your roots and finding that cowboy, blue-collar man. I think the trades are kind of in vogue right now, for all of the best reasons. We want salt of the earth, we want a man who will provide and take care of us- not everything is luxury and partying. There’s such peace in stability, and I want to honor the simplicity of good relationships, which we all deserve to experience.”

Despite all of this, when our reporters enquired about Jaehyun as the star of the music video, who, to us and many fans on social media, doesn’t scream ‘salt of the earth, cowboy, or stability’ our singer simply responded with “No comment.”

Yikes.

However, there may be hope for this fan-favorite couple yet. When Jaehyun was asked about his role in the music video at a recent film premiere for his new action movie ‘Home Grown’ he had this to say: “I did a few music videos in my early twenties, but never with anyone I really knew or admired. I’ve been focused on movies and fashion recently, but I’m excited to do a shorter-form art piece. y/n and her team are very creative, and I can’t wait to see the finished result.” 

I can safely say that we can’t wait either.

Back when y/n was just eighteen, putting out her first album, there was one song that everyone thought she wrote about Jaehyun. We couldn’t help but bring this up to the actor. When questioned if he’d inspired y/n’s first hit single, ‘Forget About Him’, Jaehyun said, “That’s not for me to say, you’ll have to ask her.” This response revived years of conspiracy on social media, and we’re all still itching for the truth.

Production for Model Cowboy is set for the end of the month, and permits have been granted for shooting in California’s Joshua Tree National Park. We’ll all be on the edge of our seats waiting for promo pictures and behind-the-scenes photos. 

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates. 

One:

You’re in your trailer with your assistant, Mark, waiting for your call time, and you can’t help the irritation that’s filling you. It’s the first day of shooting for Model Cowboy, and every other time you’ve filmed a music video, you’ve been excited about the creative journey of turning a song into a visual expression- but not today, and there’s one huge reason for your angst.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you groan. “Jaehyun wasn’t my first choice for this, and he’ll never be my first choice for this- it takes away from the meaning of the song to have him starring with me!”

Mark frowns. “I mean, he’s not exactly a model cowboy-”

“More like a model pretending to be a cowboy,” you scoff. 

Your assistant sighs. “Management just wants you two to do this, fake date for a while, promote your music and his upcoming projects, draw intrigue-”

“I know it’s what management wants, I was forced to sign the contract,” you snap. Then you release a breath, getting control of yourself. This isn’t Mark’s fault, in fact, he argued your side in the meeting about this two months ago. “I just… I’m not a huge fan of Jaehyun.”

“You always said he was the most overly confident, smug, pretty boy that came out of your kids’ show,” Mark nods. He’s very good at summing up your difficulties, as he’s your most trusted confidant. You’d never dream of being vocal about your personal opinions of Jaehyun to anyone else, your PR training has taught you not to be fully honest, to prioritize your reputation as a ‘good girl’- but Mark, he gets you. 

“At the end of the day,” you sigh, “sure, Jae might be a better actor, but I’m the better singer.”

“I know you won’t want to hear this-”

“Then don’t say it.”

Mark sends you a pointed look. “He did do that cover of ‘I Like Me Better When I’m With You,’ and everyone loved it.”

“Well, Jaehyun doesn’t have three albums and a Grammy. He did a cover. It’s not like that’s difficult.” 

Before Mark can say anything else, there’s a knock on your trailer. You jump up, ready to start the day of shooting, but when you open your door, it’s not a PA standing there to take you to location, it’s Jaehyun.

He’s dressed in a cowboy-style outfit, however, it’s more runway than practical, and he’s also wearing the same smug smile he always used to have on when you were working together as kids and young adults.

“Long time no see,” Jaehyun muses. 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re happy to see me.”

You know your dislike for Jaehyun is shared with his own disdain for you, and you’d noted that to your managers. How are either of you going to pretend to be in love when this general dissatisfaction with each other is evident every time you’re in the same room?

“Thought I’d come to discuss the whole fake dating script with you, you know, kind of like running lines.”

“There aren’t any lines for our fake dating scenario yet, it’s improv,” you remind him.

“Then, how about boundaries?”

You release a groan. “Fuck it, let’s go find my PA, get in a car to go to location, and we can talk during the drive.”

Two:

There’s a tension in the SUV. With you on his left, your assistant behind you, and Jaehyun’s own manager, Johnny, behind him, everything anyone says will be noted. In fact, Jaehyun’s been listening to Johnny argue on the phone about a brand deal for the past ten minutes.

You’d said you’d discuss the whole fake dating thing, but instead, your eyes are glued to your iPad as you look over the music video notes. 

Jaehyun has always found you to be a very focused woman, he might go so far as to say you have a stick up your ass. Your rigidity is a stark contrast to his own ‘go with the flow’ type of way of doing things, and it’s one of the reasons you’d never gotten along well on sets.

When he’d come to your trailer to discuss PR lines, it had been because he was trying to meet you where you’re at. He thought you’d want to plan. In fact, he’d found it almost laughable when you’d told him it would be improv because out of the two of you, he’s the one that’s always excelled in that area. 

You have this face you put on for others, but Jaehyun’s always seen through it. You lack confidence in yourself, and that’s why you overcompensate by being anal about details, about practicing so you never fail when the time comes. 

Jaehyun leans closer to you, getting a look at the music video notes. The aesthetic board is very desert, horses, sand, sparkles, disco balls, and mirrors- for someone who said Model Cowboy was about finding someone who wasn’t all luxury, there are definitely luxury items in the music video notes. 

“So… tell me again what the song’s about?” Jaehyun asks.

You sigh. “Mark sent you a sound clip, didn’t he? Did you even bother to listen to the song?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun shrugs, “but I wanted to hear the details from you.”

You take an exasperated deep breath, putting your iPad down on your lap. “It’s about falling in love with someone who’s very salt of the Earth-”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your lips part in shock and annoyance. “It means a man who’s salt of the Earth.” 

“Yeah, you said that, but like…” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh at how bad you’re fumbling this, “what does that mean, to you.” 

Mark shifts in the seat behind you, leaning forward to join the conversation. “It means someone who is honest, and reasonable. Someone who doesn’t think they’re special or better than others.”

You flash Jaehyun a pointed look. “So basically, not you.” 

Jaehyun chuckles. “Baby, neither of us are salt of the earth if that’s your definition.” 

He can see how annoyed you are, can pick up the micro movements, the way your fingers are tapping on the edge of the iPad. It’s a rhythmic thing, something you do to calm yourself, and he’d noticed that pattern in you when you were much younger. 

“This whole fake dating thing was not my idea,” you snap finally.

“Yeah, wasn’t mine either. We both have PR managers.”

You roll your eyes, letting out another exasperated sound of annoyance. 

Jaehyun kind of likes poking at you like this. He’d been worried that you’d be super anal about this whole project, and while you’re definitely fighting for control, he likes to jab you where your guard is down. It feels like a win to him, and deep in Jaehyun’s core, he knows it’s not a nice thing to do, but he simply can’t help himself.

You have a history, years of interactions and bickering- he hasn’t seen you in a long time, but getting on your nerves is as easy as it’s always been, and that schoolboy enjoyment from picking on you is as potent as it ever was. 

Three:

You’re a couple of hours into your day, and you’re doing some shots with horses now. You’d chosen Hwasa as your director, she’s a visionary in the type of aesthetic you want, and you’ve worked with her numerous times before. She’s very girl power, which is what you love, and you also enjoy the fact that she sees this as a collaboration.

You’ve worked with male directors in the past who think your music video is about showing their vision, and in your early days as a teen, you hadn’t been able to find your voice. Now, as an adult, you have the final say on everything, and Hwasa is the best partner you could think of for a project like this.

The two of you are by the cameras, making sure the shot will be good. The horses are just hanging out with their trainers, and Jaehyun’s a few meters away under the sun tent, waiting for direction.

“So… I’m thinking…” you look at Jaehyun, then at the saddles on the horses, “What if we try a shot with bareback.”

Hwasa casts you a sideways glance. “I mean… visually, I think that would be nicer, it would encapsulate freedom, but at the same time… is Jaehyun skilled enough to mount while bareback?”

“He’s an actor isn’t he?” You turn to look at Jaehyun. God, you can’t wait for him to fall off the horse and eat shit. “Jae!”

He’s sitting in a chair, his head tipped back, cowboy hat obscuring his face. The sound of your voice makes him sit up, his fingers pushing the rim of the hat up so he can look at you.

“Come over here!” Hwasa calls.

He nods, standing then swaggering over to you. He’s having way too much fun in his little cowboy outfit for your liking. “What’s up?”

“How do you feel about trying this scene on bareback?” Hwasa asks.

Jaehyun looks at the two of you, then over at the horse. “We can give it a go.”

You try to hide your smile, God, this is going to be so satisfying.

Hwasa goes to consult with the safety guys and trainers, who take off the saddle, then talk Jaehyun through how to mount a horse without the aid of stirrups. He nods nonchalantly, as smug as ever.

The scene gets ready, with you and Hwasa behind the camera. “Action!” she calls.

Jaehyun approaches the horse. He stops next to it, stroking it’s hair. You watch him get a gentle grip, and then, in one fluid motion, he hoists himself up, swinging his leg over the horse’s back before steadying himself into a seated position. He guides the horse by its hair to make a neat circle, looking like the most skilled cowboy ever, then he turns and flashes you that smug smile of his as Hwasa yells “cut!”

“That was amazing,” Hwasa tells you. “God, Jaehyun was such a good choice for this.”

“Really? How so?” you ask.

“Just, I know he’s not a stereotypical salt of the earth man. He’s not all American, he’s not a cowboy with a five o'clock shadow- this… dichotomy of visuals versus lyrical interpretation, how any man can be the right man if given the chance, despite all these stereotypes-” 

You can feel your expression fall. Sometimes you hate how artsy Hwasa is, with her bachelor's in English and her way with words and interpretations. You can’t argue with her analysis, because if that’s what she gets out of the visual of Jaehyun flawlessly mounting a horse bareback, then that’s her view of it. 

“Do you want to try to mount bareback too?” Hwasa asks, drawing herself out of her musings to focus on the scenes she wants in the time allotted. 

You release a sigh. “I guess we can give it a try.”

“If it’s too dangerous-”

“If Jae can do it, I can too,” you insist, not wanting to be one-upped by him. 

You’re in a long flowy silver dress with a slit up the thigh, and you remove your white overcoat. Jenni, your makeup artist double-checks you, and you’re handed your flashy disco-ball-styled cowboy hat. 

The safety team and trainers give you a talk about how to mount the horse, and after listening carefully, you feel ready to take on the task. 

Your horse is black, and your outfit is meant to be a contrast. It’s a beautiful horse, and when Hwasa calls ‘Action!’ you approach it carefully. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and you stop next to the large animal, stroking it for a moment while you gain the courage to try to mount it.

As you make the leap, hoisting yourself up- Jaehyun calls out, “Don’t slip!”

And of course, that’s exactly what happens. Your leg can’t get a grip over the horse, you trip up a little with the silky material of your dress, and just like that, you’re back on the ground with two feet, sending a death glare over your shoulder at Jaehyun.

“It was a nice effort!” Hwasa encourages you. 

“Not many people get it on their first try,” a trainer agrees.

You watch Jaehyun smile smugly, and an annoyance unlike any you’ve ever experienced fills you as he meticulously watches you try to complete the scene. 

Four: 

It’s near the end of your first day of filming. Hwasa had decided on a one day permit for the horses in the desert, opting to get all the scenes involving the large, beautiful animals done in one big go, and now, she’s explaining the final shots she needs to you and Jaehyun.

“So, we’re skipping through the linear timeline a little right now,” your director explains. “This is one of the final shots of the music video, so we’re going to imagine that at this point, the two of you are completely in love.” You and Jaehyun exchange a look. “You’re riding on horseback in the desert. We want bliss, joy, a comfortable kind of peace that comes when you can truly be yourself with another person, a freedom.”

She gazes pointedly at you and Jaehyun.

“I think we can manage,” you scene partner says, but there’s an edge of hesitation in his voice.

“We’re thinking ‘Ride’ by Lana Del Rey, but instead of motorcycles, you’re on horses. Think about how effortless she looked, how devil-may-care,” Hwasa, ever the Lana Del Rey enthusiast, explains. “You know her song ‘Young and Beautiful?’ There’s a line, ‘Hot summer nights, mid July, when you and I were forever wild.’ Do you guys have that?” 

You love that Hwasa enjoys poetic music, it’s one of the reasons you’d been so drawn to her when you wanted to shift out of your role as a child star turned pop icon. Hwasa had been adamant about the Lana Del Rey stylings that she wanted to influence ‘Model Cowboy,’ the American Dream, wild and poetic love. 

However, with all that said, you’d never imagined Lana Del Rey would be tainted by the imaginings of Jaehyun as your lover, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

You’ve already gone over blocking, and Hwasa’s explained the drones and cameras set up to take the shots, so now, all that’s left to do, is get through the day.

Jaehyun can tell you’re lost in thought, he can see the dissatisfied look on your face, but before he can call you on it, Johnny pulls him to the side.

“Good luck with this one,” Johnny muses, patting him on the shoulder. “And don’t fall off your horse, you’ve got to be in Milan in a couple of days for the big Prada show.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaehyun brushes his manager off. “I’ve got this.”

“That’s my little go-getter actor,” Johnny grins, having scored a goldmine when he landed Jaehyun as his client, despite being a very young and new manager in the industry. “Be the Model Cowboy you always wanted to be.”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath before joining you. “You ready?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh. 

“Okay guys, we’re in love!” Hwasa bellows. “We’ve got this! And… action!”

Your expression immediately changes, suddenly, you’re grinning, in fact, you’re glowing. It takes a second for Jaehyun to follow your lead, but then, the two of you are playfighting and tickling, laughing like young lovers who are tasting what it feels like to have found their soulmate for the very first time. 

Jaehyun knows the blocking, he knows when to wrap his arms around you after a few feet of chasing, when to lift you up and spin you as you laugh and gently kick. He knows when to set you down, going in for a kiss only for you to break free and dart to your horse, effortlessly swinging yourself up onto the black stallion and taking off.

Jaehyun is right behind you, mounting his own white horse and following.

He does his best to keep an easy going, loving expression, and at first, it’s a little difficult. But, as more seconds of the two of you riding through the desert go by, Jaehyun remembers the way he felt about you when you first met.

You’d been just kids then. Two young teens still growing into your bodies, into your personalities. He remembers how beautiful you’d been, even then, how your smile had lit up the room, as it does now when you turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, making sure the distance between you is still correct.

Of course it’s correct, if you want to be anal, Jaehyun can be anal too, and he’s not going to give you any reason to nitpick after the day he’s had. 

No, Jaehyun’s an actor. He’s a professional.

In fact, he’s a Model Cowboy as he chases you through the desert on horseback. 

God, the way you’re looking back at him- you’ve really grown into your looks, and Jaehyun’s not making things up when he says you’re glowing. The golden hour sun is hitting you just right, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He feels alive, he feels- as if this whole thing is real. He forgets the cameras for just a few moments, getting lost in the experience of being young, wild, and free, with you. 

Something shifts inside of him, although, Jaehyun’s so enthralled with you that he can’t quite pin what’s just taken place.

The scene is over all too quickly, the two of you making your blocking mark at the bottom of one of the rocky cliff faces that litter Joshua Tree National Park. You slow your horse, coming to a stop, your expression falling.

Jaehyun feels his own smile drop as he stops next to you. He swallows thickly, not knowing quite what to say, so, he decides to note, “Wow, your acting has really improved!”

He means it as a compliment, but your expression turns even more sour, and he knows he’s messed up.

“Well that’s a back handed compliment if I’ve ever heard one,” you scowl.

“I-” Jaehyun’s words get caught in his throat, and he has to swallow a lump just to continue, “I meant it in a good way, I was trying to be nice.” 

“If that was you trying to be nice, it makes sense why you can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a month or so,” you snap.

Jaehyun’s chest hurts, and he stares at you in shock. It’s all the more painful, because in some ways, what you’ve just said is true. He’s used to only dating models, people in the industry who aren’t as successful as he is. He’s only ever entered relationships where there’s a power imbalance, and he supposes in a situation like that, any negative feedback could be biting- yet, it’s different with you.

You’re the one with the power here, and it’s clear you won’t take any criticisms from him. You stand up for yourself, in a way no woman ever has around Jaehyun.

As he watches you lead your horse away, signaling the end of the interaction, Jaehyun realizes maybe he kind of likes that you’re very powerful in your own right. Maybe he likes a woman who can defend herself and doesn’t just take what the world throws at her.

Maybe… just maybe, after all this time, he likes you. 

Five: 

The locations crew had found a really cool oldstyle cowboy motel for everyone to stay at. It had been relatively inexpensive compared to other filming location lodgings in the past, and renting the whole place, including the mess hall, for four days had been the obvious choice.

You’re sitting with Mark and Hwasa, all three of you have trays of food from the buffet, but none of you are focused on eating. Hwasa has her iPad out, and she’s going through the shots of the day with Mark. You remind yourself when you peak at the screen that there’s still a lot of editing to do, but so far, it’s looking quite good. 

Your stylist, Jenni, is also with you, and she’s capturing the majority of your attention as she shows you pictures of the costumes set for tomorrow. Your long silver dress is being swapped out for a pink palette upscale cowgirl aesthetic, with Jaehyun in creams and blues to match the lighter blush colours. 

You notice Jaehyun walk into the large dining area. He and his manager, Johnny, head straight for the food, and they tilt their heads together, thick as thieves out of ear shot.

When they’re done filling their trays, they begin to head to a table, and that’s when Hwasa calls them over. “Rough shots,” she explains. “Jae, you sit next to y/n and I’ll show you both some of the details.”

You flash Jenni a look, hating that she has to move over for the model to sit.

Jaehyun is awkward as he does so, apologizing to Jenni, which is his only saving grace.

When he settles, your shoulders are touching, and he leans closer to get a look at the iPad that Hwasa is holding. Hwasa doesn’t show all the shots, just her favourites, and you have to admit, the visuals are stunning even before any editing for light and colour.

Then, Hwasa shows you all the footage from the last scene you’d shot, the one with you and Jaehyun playfighting then leaping on horses.

“This is so good,” Hwasa tells you. “You both look so natural on horses, the drone shots are perfect, and the golden hour? Stunning.” 

While all of that is true, you’re more focused on how in love you and Jaehyun look. It’s weird to be seeing you and Jaehyun like this. It’s almost out of body, or doppleganger realm, because how the heck did you manage to look so happy and in love with Jeong Jaehyun of all people?

You feel the actor shift next to you, and you get the sense that he’s uncomfortable with it as well… however, out of the two of you, he has way more experience on screen. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he looks very much in love, he gets paid big money to sell those emotions.

“Anyways,” Hwasa sighs, “y/n, tomorrow morning, we shoot sunrise and into the afternoon, then Jaehyun, the latter half of the day is us at the ranch for some more ‘classic’ cowboy scenes.”

“Sounds good,” Jaehyun mumbles. With one last nod of appreciation, he stands up, and it’s as if he can’t get to another table fast enough. 

Six: 

They’ve been shooting Jaehyun’s cowboy scenes for a couple of hours when he notices your arrival on set. You’re not in the pink costume he’d heard about you wearing this morning, and you’re not all dolled up either.

You’re in a light jacket and jean shorts, a more relaxed look, and yet, you’re still stunning.

You’re next to Hwasa, looking at camera angles and shots, and while you seem to be making a few notes to the director, Jaehyun appreciates that you aren’t trying to micromanage him yourself. 

Shooting continues for another hour, and Hwasa calls a short break so she can figure out what else needs to be done today while they have the ranch.

At first, Jaehyun just goes and grabs a water. Johnny is hyping him up, but the actor is hardly paying attention, his gaze focused on you instead. 

Jaehyun can’t help himself, he walks over to you. You look up from Hwasa like a deer in headlights, and something about it is very endearing. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, can I uh… talk to you for a sec?” Jaehyun asks.

“You know what? Yeah, that’s a good idea,” you nod, “come with me.”

You grab his arm, dragging him away. Jaehyun’s a little confused as to where you’re taking him, and when he finds himself in the privacy of a secluded location behind his trailer, he’s even more confounded. 

“Uh….” he starts, wetting his lips.

“What did you need?”

“I was just… guess I was wondering what you were doing here? Didn’t your shoot finish a couple of hours ago? Figured you’d be getting some rest at the motel.”

“It’s my music video,” you remind him. “Also… management thought it would be good to let tabloids get some shots of us shooting today, that’s why I pulled you over here, we allowed them the field of view to your trailer.”

“So that’s why you took me to such a secluded spot,” Jaehyun grins. 

“It’s the only reason I touched your arm,” you retort.

“Careful, don’t look so angry,” Jaehyun warns you, his hands reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your tabloid shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Tabloid won’t be on the property till after your last take in an hour or so. Don’t jump the gun, cowboy. After your next scene, you can be as much of a little model slut as you’d like.”

“You think I’m a slut?” Jaehyun asks, shocked that you’re talking to him in this way.

“Am I wrong?”

Jaehyun stands there for a moment, and then, he releases his grip on your hips. “Guess not.”

“So, after you’re done the next scene, we come here, and see if we can pretend to like each other,” you instruct. 

“We just have to be as convincing as we were yesterday,” Jaehyun muses.

You open your mouth to respond, but then you shut it, and Jaehyun’s left wondering what you would have said for the next hour.

He wonders how far you’ll let him take things, and part of him wishes you’d answered his question about boundaries yesterday. This feels like uncharted waters, and his heart is racing when he finally meets you behind his trailer again. 

“Okay,” you sigh. “Do your worst.”

Jaehyun feels himself begin to salivate, and he swallows thickly. There’s no way he’ll do his worst. His worst, would be throwing you against the trailer and having his way with you right here and now- asserting his dominance and seeing if you push back in any way- he suspects you like him more than you let on, after all, Jaehyun’s never met a girl he couldn’t tame.

Life’s hard when you have a stunning face and a hot body to match. 

Jaehyun reaches for your hips, pulling you closer. His skin is tingling with excitement. “I’m going to say something funny, and you should laugh,” he whispers.

You grin broadly, but the expression doesn’t meet your eyes. “Depends on if what you say is funny or not,” you counter. 

Jaehyun’s mind suddenly goes blank. His pick-up lines, his jokes- they all fly out the proverbial window. He doesn’t know what to say, so instead, he begins to lean in-

You turn your head at the last second and Jaehyun’s lips graze past your cheek. He’s a little taken aback at first, but he leans into it, reminding himself that you’d told him to improv. “Is this okay?” he whispers in your ear, still wanting to double-check with you although every fiber of his being is telling him to just do what he wants.

“It’s okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms loosely around the back of his neck. “You’re the actor.”

For some reason, it feels like a compliment that you’re making the distinction between the two of you. You’re right, he’s the actor, and you’re the Grammy award-winning singer.

His lips continue softly on your cheek, and then he adjusts, pressing kisses down to your throat. You shift in his embrace, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

“Jae-” you warn.

“Just a few more, for the tabloids,” he whispers, nuzzling into your neck moreso than kissing now.

You release a sigh, and with your chests pressed together, Jaehyun can feel your heart racing.

He wonders if you can feel his going a mile a minute too. 

Seven: 

You eat in your room with Mark, too shaken up by your interaction with Jaehyun earlier to dare enter the mess hall yourself. 

“So, I was just sent the tabloid pictures for final approval,” Mark sighs, joining you on the bed so you can see his phone. “They’ll be up in the morning.”

“Just choose your favourites,” you murmur.

“Uh…” Mark blinks at you. “I really think you should look at them with me.”

You take a deep breath. “Fine.” 

Shifting your gaze to Mark’s phone, he scrolls through the shots, and you hate how natural they look. You and Jaehyun just look good together, and it sets your teeth on edge.

“The cheek kissing is cute,” Mark says thoughtfully. “The way you’re holding each other looks real.” 

It looks too real, in fact.

“I’m just happy we have opposing shoot schedules tomorrow,” you admit with another deep breath. You can see Mark side-eying you, and you hold up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say a word.” 

“It’s just…” Mark struggles at times to surpass your commands. He’s your assistant first and foremost, but your company also expects him to have somewhat of a managerial role over you, and you know it’s a fight for him to find balance at times. “Everyone has shipped the two of you since you were younger. People say it’s like Britney and Justin in the Mickey Mouse Club House show- then you were teenagers, and you went different directions-” 

“Well, Britney and Justin didn’t end up together, did they?” It’s a rhetorical question, and from the way Mark sighs, he knows it.

“You’re missing the point,” he struggles.

You turn your gaze to him. “Am I?”

Mark releases a breath, dropping the issue. You feel bad shutting him down like this, but at the same time, you don’t want to open the can of ‘Jaehyun’ worms, if you will. No, you’d much rather ignore it for right now.

You’re filming a music video for your new album, and you have much bigger fish to fry. 

Eight: 

If Jaehyun wasn’t needed for business calls with Johnny today, he might be on set watching you, and Jaehyun can’t get it out of his head as he chills in his motel room and listens to his manager working.

It’s three hours into calls and details before Johnny is able to take a break, and he sets down his phone with a pointed look on his face. “You’re being weird.”

“Am I?” Jaehyun lets out a small laugh, but there’s little humor in it.

“Talk to me,” Johnny says lightly, giving an air of friendship despite the fact that he’s still in his role as manager. “Talk to me about this whole PR, fake dating thing.” 

Jaehyun shrugs. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Those fake tabloid pictures of you and y/n from yesterday on set dropped an hour ago, they’re trending on Twitter,” Johnny points out.

“It’s called ‘X’ now, actually.” 

Johnny narrows his eyes. “I’m never going to call it ‘X.’ It’s fucking Twitter.” 

Jaehyun can’t help but laugh, for real this time. He loves Johnny, loves him for all of his little millennial quirks.

“Honestly?” Jaehyun sighs, feeling his energy sift again. “Y/N’s super uptight, but… she can act like she’s not, and that’s a different side of her that I wasn’t really expecting.” 

Johnny is quiet for a few moments. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“That song from her first album, ‘Forget About Him,’ was that written about you? Is there a past here?”

“Nah, it wasn’t about me,” Jaehyun assures his manager. “As far as I know, she’s never been interested in me like that. We had this other costar, Haechan-”

“Lee Donghyuck?”

“Yeah, him. They uh, I think there was something there between them, for a little while at least.”

Jaehyun can feel Johnny’s assessing gaze, and he averts his own eyes. 

“It almost seems like you’re jealous, Jae.”

“Yeah, well, Haechan never went on to become a brand ambassador for Prada or star in movies, he was just some little child star.” Jaehyun can taste the bitterness in his words, but he can’t help himself. 

“You know who’s not just a child star?” Johnny asks. “Y/N. You two are, without argument, the most successful people to come out of the show you were in when you were younger.”

“We’re both very driven,” Jaehyun admits. “I do admire that about her, she has a Grammy for fucks sake.”  

“What I’m getting from this,” Johnny concludes, “is that you’re completely fine with this whole fake dating arrangement.”

“Well, as my manager, you should know I’m a good actor,” Jaehyun counters.

Johnny laughs. “Sure you are. Tomorrow is the last day of shooting, you’ve got that big kissing scene, I guess we’ll all see how good of an actor you are then.” 

Nine: 

There’s something comical about the fact that both you and Jaehyun are chewing gum in preparation for your kissing scene. Together, you’re with Hwasa as she goes over the vision for the shot. 

“So, we’re thinking Jae’s going to grab your neck,” Hwasa starts, “gently, of course. More of a cupping the nape of your neck than a grab, actually. It’s going to be slow, a slow exploration of moving closer. Lots of close-ups of the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s about breaking the distance, about two worlds colliding and connecting in a way that feels natural, unrushed, and just, electric.” 

Jaehyun nods, looking at you. “We can do this.” You wish you were as sure as he sounds right now.

Jaehyun takes out a tissue, and the two of you spit out your gum, disposing the trash before moving into position.

The shot is on the edge of a cliff, with the desert and sunset stretching out like a vast, yellowy-orange ocean behind you. 

It’s as you approach your marked spot that you remember something. “Jae,” you ask softly, “are you still afraid of heights?” 

You watch him take a deep breath, and he nods, standing a few feet from the drop-off. You notice he’s looking everywhere but down, and something inside of you softens for him.

Here you are, worried about the kiss, and here this man is, worried about falling off the edge of a cliff and dying. 

“We’ve got some space between us and the edge,” you tell him, stepping closer. “Here, grab my hips, we’re both steady, we’re not going to fall.”

Jaehyun’s lips part, and you can see the confusion on his face.

You suppose you’ve never been nurturing to him, but you can’t help yourself with this. You don’t mean to be a bitch, in fact, you’d argue adamantly that you’re not a malicious person. Jaehyun just pisses you off a lot, and his behavior generally merits a reaction- but right now, he deserves a bit of peace of mind, and you can see him relax a little as his hands grab your waist.

“Feels more steady?” you double-check.

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly, nodding. 

“We’ve got this,” you assure him.

“Are we ready!?” Hwasa calls.

You flash a thumbs up, turning your attention back to Jaehyun.

“And… action!”

The two of you simply stare at each other for a moment. Hwasa had said she wanted this to be slow. You’re shocked at how exposed you feel looking up into Jaehyun’s eyes. He really is a very handsome man, and he looks so extremely vulnerable right now.

His gaze shifts to your lips, and you allow him to take the lead. One of his hands moves up your body, cupping the back of your neck gently. You can smell the spearmint on his breath, as he moves closer.

You maintain eye contact until the moment your lips meet, and then, you do your best to just relax, to forget about the cameras pointed at you. You allow yourself to melt into the kiss, following Jaehyun’s motions, following the gentle notes that soon become more heated.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and on instinct, you open your mouth for him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. 

You try to convince yourself that you’re leaning into this for the sake of the scene, that you’re just being good actors together, but there’s something underneath it all. There’s a desperation. You can almost taste it below the spearmint on his tongue. 

It feels good to be kissing Jaehyun, and the realization makes you break the kiss, opening your eyes and blinking in an effort to get yourself out of the daze that’s come over you. 

“That was amazing!” Hwasa’s voice is like a slap. “I’ve got some shots, but I’ll need you guys to do it one more time.”

Jesus. 

“You good?” Jaehyun asks.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Let’s just go again.”

You’re kissing him again all too soon, and this time, it’s like fireworks. Your heart is racing in your chest, your skin electrified as you cling to Jaehyun, diving deeper into the feeling of him.

This time, he’s the one to break the kiss, and he looks away immediately. You notice him breathing heavily, but before you can say anything, Hwasa’s approaching again.

“Okay, that was amazing, and I hate to be that person, but I’ve decided I want drone shots too, so… third time is the charm?” She looks between you and Jaehyun and both of you are quick to nod, although, neither of you has yet found your voice.

“You good?” you ask him as Hwasa goes back to her spot, her main drone lifting into the sky with an electric thrum.

“Yeah, just one more,” Jaehyun says, voice wavering.

The two of you get back into position, and you study Jaehyun carefully. You’re looking at him, truly looking at him, and he’s looking at you with the same fierceness. You can tell something has shifted between the two of you, but at this time, you’re unsure how deep it really is.

He kisses you again on Hwasa’s direction, and you wonder how normal it is to feel this way during a kissing scene with a fellow acting partner.

You’ve never had to do this before, but you know Jaehyun has. He’s been in two or three rom-coms, there must be a way to stay professional after kissing a costar, right? 

But God, he still feels so good.

You’d thought - or maybe hoped - that the first kiss would be a one-off. That the second wouldn’t be as great, and by now, maybe the butterflies would have escaped the cage in your tummy, but no, the feeling surging through you is as powerful and electric as it had been with the first meeting of your lips. 

He leaves you breathless.

Standing on the edge of the cliff with Jaehyun, you realize you’re in deep shit. 

Ten: 

Jaehyun notices you in the mess hall. You’re looking over food, plating up your dinner, and he decides now is as good a time as any to talk to you. 

He doesn’t mean to be a quiet, sneaky sort of guy, but he can’t help the lightness of his walk. When he goes to stand next to you, saying “Hi,” you practically jump, your food stray scrambling a little as you compose yourself.

“Jesus,” you cuss. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… uh, the shoot is over, I head to Milan tomorrow-”

“Yup, I know your schedule,” you nod, sighing. “It’s in our contract that I come to your show and be front row to watch you, remember?”

“Right, yeah.” Jaehyun swallows thickly. “So… reporters are going to be asking a lot of questions about us.”

“Uh huh, that was the point of the paparazzi pics.” You continue filling your tray with food, so unbothered and cool in your movements that it makes Jaehyun’s heart beat faster. Are you unaffected by your kiss from earlier? Because Jaehyun can’t get the feeling of your lips out of his mind. 

“I just uh, wanted to say, you can trust me to give the right answers and stuff. I’m PR trained.”

God, Jaehyun wants to strangle himself. He feels so nervous, and the look you give him tells him that you think he’s being a dork. He’s definitely being a dork-

“Okay?” you laugh. “I’m PR trained too, we both took classes when we were kids, remember?” 

“Right,” he’s such an idiot, “yeah. Anyways, I guess… I guess I’ll see you in Milan in a couple of days.” 

“Sounds good.”

With one final nod, Jaehyun leaves you be, and he beats himself up about the awkwardness of the conversation for the rest of the night. 

Eleven:

In this week's news, our favourite kids’ show alumni were spotted getting close on set. y/n’s new music video, Model Cowboy, is set to be one of the videos of the summer, starring Prada ambassador Jung Jaehyun. The two have a long history, and while there have been rumors about their romantic connection in the past, nothing has ever been confirmed… until now.

TMZ dropped a photo of the two embracing outside Jaehyun’s trailer, and the internet officially broke. #modelcowboy has been going absolutely wild on X. One user wrote: “all my dreams are finally coming true! Thank you mama e papa!” While another took to X to say this: “At first, I didn’t love Jaehyun as the whole ‘model cowboy’ trope. He just doesn’t fit it for me. But I don’t know, something about the pictures of him and y/n just feels right- guess you don’t need a history as a rancher to be a cowboy, he’s definitely lassoed my heart.“

So far, the general consensus around our new ‘It Couple’ is that it’s been a long time coming. While there’s no official confirmation about their relationship, one of our reporters caught Jaehyun after a show in Milan last night. When asked about their time shooting the music video together, the actor/Prada ambassador had this to say about y/n: “She was amazing. The whole experience [filming Model Cowboy] went without a hitch. She’s super talented, one of the most driven women I know, and I can’t wait to see how this music video pans out for her.”

When asked about the pictures of the two of them that have been trending, Jaehyun said: “I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s an icon- who wouldn’t want a chance with her?” When the reporter clarified by asking if they’re dating, Jaehyun noted, “You’ll have to ask y/n, I’d never be ‘that’ guy who would speak for a powerful woman like her.” 

All we can say is damn, that’s a green flag if we’ve ever seen one. 

Stay tuned for all things celebrity drama and news on our website, or follow us on Instagram and Snapchat for daily updates. 

Twelve: 

There’s nothing like the closing night of a show. Jaehyun feels elated, he feels on the top of his game, like nothing could bring him down. 

“You were amazing,” another model tells him, fluffing her hair up with her hand as the two of them decompress backstage. 

“You were amazing, Vivienne,” he retorts, never feeling more giddy and boyish than he does now. 

“I’m good, but I’m not model of the year good,” she grins. 

“You’re still new,” Jaehyun assures her, although, pride is swelling through him.

He sees her skin flush, her eye lashes fluttering at him-

“Jae?” your voice draws him out of his assessment of Vivienne, and he turns in shock to find you standing there.

You look stunning, your stylist team has really outdone themselves with your looks for the past couple of days- but there’s a sour set to your lips that immediately tells him something is wrong.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“Am I… interrupting something?” your gaze shifts to Vivienne, and Jaehyun immediately understands what’s going on.

“Excuse us,” he says to Vivienne, grabbing your hand to tug you a few feet away. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you jealous right now?”

“No,” you retort immediately. “What reason would I have to be jealous?”

You’re making a big show about the notion of jealousy being ridiculous, but Jaehyun knows he’s hit the nail on the head. 

“No reason at all,” Jaehyun assures you, and he truly means it. He knows this whole dating this is a PR move, but he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head all week. Every time he’s walked past you sitting front row at the shows- well, he’s been feeling butterflies in a way that he’s hardly been able to admit to himself. “Hey, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “Your show is over, we both fly different places tomorrow morning, management will set our schedules to keep up this whole fake dating thing, I just wanted to say goodbye before I go back to my hotel.” 

“Oh, right.” Jaehyun can feel his heart sink in his chest. “Uh… where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Four Seasons.”

“Do you maybe want to get drinks later or something?” he asks.

“I’m sure you have after parties to go to with your… model friends.” Your gaze shifts to Vivienne again, and that same sour twist to your lips appears.

Jaehyun wants to reassure you, but- the words just aren’t coming. Besides, what would he even say? We’re fake dating but I’ve been rethinking our entire dynamic since we kissed and now I’m not so sure I want it to be fake, because I’m actually really into you, and all of our bickering in the past has been because I’m jealous of your driven nature and I’ve seen you as competition but now I see that we can do more together than apart?

It feels like a lot of word vomit, and Jaehyun’s not about to projectile all of that at you right now. He doesn’t want to look stupid again, doesn’t want to feel like an idiot. He’s scared of rejection, in a way he’s never been scared of it before. 

Instead, dejected, he just nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, so you go have fun, I’m going back to my hotel, and like I said, I’ll see you when I see you.”

Jaehyun watches you leave, and suddenly, the high from the fashion show has depleted. No one has ever had this kind of hold on his emotions before, and Jaehyun knows he’s going to have to do something about it, he just doesn’t know what. 

Thirteen: 

“Jeeze, Mark, I told you, I’m going to bed-” Your words cut off as you open your hotel door and find Jaehyun, not Mark, standing there.

“Uh… Hi?” Jaehyun smile sheepishly, and you look him up and down.

He’s in a form fitting suit, but it looks somewhat ragged. His shirt is unbuttoned haphazardly, his hair a little fussed, and his cheeks are flushed pink. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Well, I went to the afterparty, like you told me to, but… I don’t know, I just felt bad about how we left things.”

You’re shocked at how candid he’s being, and you don’t see a hint of dishonestly in his body language. “Have… have you been drinking?” you question next.

“Just a little,” he admits. “Can I…” Jaehyun looks around the hallway outside. “Can I come in?”

“I should really be going to sleep soon-”

“Yeah, I heard, Mark’s been on your ass,” Jaehyun nods, swallowing, “but uh…” he leans forward, voice lowering, “What’s that pipsqueak going to do about you staying up just a little later? I mean, you can sleep on your flight tomorrow, can’t you?” 

Yeah, Jaehyun is drunk. “Did you just call Mark a pipsqueak?” you ask in shock.

“So what if I did?” He grins lazily. 

“Jae-”

“y/n.”

You sigh. “Come in, sit down, and let me grab you some water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His smile is much too large for your liking as he enters your hotel room, going to the couch like a good boy. 

You can feel his eyes on you as you get him a bottle of water from the fridge, moving to join him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He unscrews the cap as you sit down, taking a large gulp.

“So… what’s this about?”

He’s still drinking the water, like a child after a marathon, just drinking and drinking with small stops to gasp for air- you can’t help but laugh a little, watching with amusement.

Jaehyun finishes the entire bottle. “So-” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Making you jealous earlier.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “I was not jealous.” 

“You were, and it’s okay.” He places his hand on your knee and you look down at it then up at him questioningly. “I was jealous of you and Haechan back in the day, but the difference is, I wasn’t hitting on Vivienne, I was just trying to be nice to her, you know, as male model of the year and everything.”

“Jae-”

“I wasn’t hitting on her,” he says again, expression turning firm. “You’re my girlfriend and I’d never, ever do that to you.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Contractually, you are,” Jaehyun insists. “I can be a good boyfriend to you, if you let me try.”

He’s leaning in now, and you grab a pillow, haphazardly shoving it between the two of you so he can kiss that instead.

“Jae!” You hop off of the couch, heart racing.

“Shit, sorry, you’re just- God, have I ever told you that you glow?” Jaehyun looks up at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him, it’s almost like admiration.

“What are you even saying?”

“You glow. You light up the room. You just- you sparkle, even without disco balls and diamonds.”

You wrap your silky night robe tighter around your body, feeling self conscious. “I don’t glow.”

“You do,” he insists. “Even when we were younger. I think- I think part of me always worried your glow would diminish mine, if that makes sense- but, but after seeing some of the footage from the music video, I see that, now that we’re older, when we do stuff together, when we’re not competing, we can glow together.”

So he’s like… very drunk.

But… haven’t you always heard that drunk words are sober thoughts?

You look down at him, and it feels like you’re seeing him in a new light. 

“Jae?” you question.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

“When we kissed that day on set, I felt something.”

“Are you… not used to feeling things?” you ask.

“Not feeling things like that,” Jaehyun corrects. “I mean, butterflies, sparks, you know, corny rom com shit.”

Your stomach flips, heart beginning to beat faster in your chest- so he’d felt the connection too.

“Look, okay, this is going to be embarrassing if you reject me, but, fuck it, I want to get this all off my chest.” Jaehyun takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his silky hair to steady himself. “I like you. I think, a part of me has always liked you, but, I also used to see you as competition. Now that we’re older, now that we’re both successful, I don’t see you that way anymore- and before you think that’s another backhanded compliment, I just mean, you’ve won Grammys. You’re- a fucking star. And I think… maybe I’ve grown to the point where I can accept other people’s successes without seeing it as a diminishment on my own.”

You’re surprised he can speak this well and use big words while clearly feeling the effects of alcohol, and even more than that, you’re surprised by the context of what he’s saying. 

Jeong Jaehyun thinks you’re a star. He recognizes your hard work and your success. He’s not just some smug asshole looking down at you, he’s actually seeing you, and maybe… maybe you’re beginning to see him. 

“I appreciate the compliment of what you’re saying,” you tell him, picking your own words carefully. 

“There’s that PR training,” Jaehyun winks. “You’re cute. Glowy, little, cute, superstar. Maybe that’s what I should call you, my little superstar, the media would eat it up.”

“That’s your PR training,” you laugh. 

“We can’t help it,” he smiles up at you.

“Can I say something without you getting upset?”

“I’ll do my best,” Jaehyun promises solemnly.

“I want to start by saying this isn’t a rejection,” you clarify, “I just wish you would have told me all of this while sober, instead of showing up at my apartment near midnight before we both fly out of town in the morning.”

“I can see that,” Jaehyun nods. “I guess, you kind of scare me.”

“I scare you?” you laugh. 

“Uh huh.” He swallows thickly. “Like heights.”

He’s so adorably dorky for a famous actor and Prada brand ambassador.

“But- on that cliff that day, when we kissed, and you reassured me, and you let me hold your hips- I don’t know, it was nice. I- thanks, thanks for doing that.”

“I can be quite nurturing if I think someone deserves it,” you tell him. “Which, speaking of, you’re still drunk, and you downed that whole bottle of water, I think I should get you another, and maybe we can move somewhere more comfortable.”

“Like.. the bedroom?” There’s a glint in his eye, and it makes you scoff.

“Get your mind out of the gutter Jae, you can stay on this couch for all I care.”

“I’ll be good,” he promises, crossing his heart haphazardly.

“Come on.” You hold your hand out for him and Jaehyun takes it, allowing you to help him to his feet. You go get another bottle of water and the two of you move to the bedroom. The mattress is substantially more comfortable than the couch, and Jaehyun releases an audible moan as he clammers down onto it.

You get situated, moing under the covers so you feel less exposed.

“I like it when you’re nice like this,” Jaehyun sighs.

“I’d be nicer if you didn’t always tease me.”

“You like it when I tease.”

“I actually hated it when you told me not to slip as I was getting onto the horse during the shoot, and it completely made me mess up and slip,” you point out, still irritated by that ordeal.

“Okay, to be fair, yes, I’m sorry, but also, your dress was silky as fuck, you were going to slip even if I didn’t say anything, and that’s not your fault, it’s Jenni’s for not giving you better clothes to actually ride a horse with.”

He has a point there.

“So…” Jaehyun switches topic, his demeanor getting more anxious, “back on the couch, you said you weren’t rejecting me… can you… can you explain what that meant.”

“It meant I’m not rejecting you.”

“And salt of the earth means salt of the earth,” Jaehyun retorts, rolling his eyes. “Can you give me a Mark style explanation on what you meant.”

“I meant…” you think about it for a second. “I like you too, I think you might be more into me than I’m into you at the moment-”

“Oh yeah?” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest and getting pouty.

“Yeah,” you laugh.

“Fine, okay, maybe,” Jaehyun concedes. “But?”

“But… I’m willing to explore something with you.”

“Yeah?” His expression brightens. “Really?”

“We’d just have to sort out details, you know- we’re on contract for three or so months, so, if we gave it a real go, and things ended before our contract, how would that even work? There are limitations to having a relationship with someone you work with.”

Jaehyun looks down at the water bottle in his hands, clearly thinking it through. “We can… take it slow? I mean, we’d have to, since we both have different schedules and will be in different countries tomorrow.”

“Slow could work,” you agree. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you almost think he’s going to lean in for a kiss again, and then he asks, “What did happen with you and Haechan? Your first single was about him, right?”

You release a laugh, if this is really a can of worms he wants to open, then you suppose you can let him open it.

You begin to explain to him your history with Haechan, and Jaehyun listens intently. Somehow, he gets the ball rolling on your recent relationship with Lee Jeno, and before you know it, two hours have passed with the two of you just discussing past relationships.

Jaehyun tells you about his own ex’s, about his lack of accountability and emotional maturity. He gives voice to all the trouble spots you’ve identified about him in the past, and clarity on his hopes for being better in the future.

He also noticeably sobers up, which makes you feel a lot better about having this sort of intimate conversation with him.

Soon, you’re both just laying in bed facing each other, talking about everything and anything. “Do you remember that time the catering company on set changed?” Jaehyun asks.

“Oh my god, yeah, when the higher ups wanted more vegan and vegetarian options, and it was just like, raw fruit and veggies with store bought hummus?”

“Jaemin wasn’t used to eating anything that wasn’t carbs or meat and in the middle of a take he had to run to the bathroom?” Jaehyun adds.

“Shat his pants and everything, pissed wardrobe off in a way I’ve never seen,” you giggle. “What ever happened to him?”

“I don’t keep up with many of our old castmates,” Jaehyun admits. “But I think he’s some radio show host or something now, has a segment about embarrassing first dates and stuff.”

“He always loved messy gossip,” you sigh, happy to be reminiscing in this way.

There are only a handful of people who can understand what it was like to be on a kids show in your early teens, only a few others in the world you could possibly have this conversation with.

Despite your differences, you and Jaehyun come from the same place, and it makes it easy to talk to him.

Jaehyun’s staring at you, and he pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Should I let you sleep?” he asks. “It’s two AM.”

You’re hardly tired at this point, and now that Jae’s sober… and in your bed… your own mind has found its way into the gutter, and you’re not quite sure what to do about that.

“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.

“Always.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in a long time,” you sigh. “And… we’re flying to different places tomorrow, so maybe it’s not the best idea I’ve ever had-”

“It is,” Jaehyun interrupts you. “The best idea you’ve ever had.” You shoot him a look and Jaehyun laughs, back tracking. “I mean, your lyrics and albums are great ideas too- but I just mean… If you’re horny, then you’re horny, and I’m, well, here.” 

“I just don’t want you to feel taken advantage of.”

“Even if you’d tried to fuck me when I first walked in here, all drunk and being stupid, it still wouldn’t have been taking advantage of me.”

“I think fucking someone while they’re drunk is one of the most obvious scenarios of taking advantage of someone,” you counter.

“Okay, true, but- you know what I’m saying.” Jaehyun flashes you a knowing look. “If you want me to fuck you, I’ll fuck you.”

“That’s so romantic,” you roll your eyes. 

Jaehyun laughs, and then he sits up, looking down at you. “If you want romance, we can go shower together or something. I could… romantically wash your body, and tell you how perfect you are-”

“It’s two am, fuck that. Just kiss me.”

Jaehyun grins, then he leans over you, staring into your eyes. He’s moving slower than you thought he would, and part of you wishes he’d just ravage you like some primal animal- but no, he’s acting like he did in your music video. You can practically see adoration in his eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek in a way that’s almost loving. 

“I meant it when I said that you glow,” Jaehyun says softly.

“I know you did,” you breathe, grabbing the back of his neck to draw his lips to yours.

It’s odd how familiar the two of you already are. The kiss isn’t awkward at all, but then again, your first kiss hadn’t been either.

Neither of you are trying to dominate it, you’re moving slowly, reading each other’s body language and cues. 

When his tongue gently licks your lip, you open your mouth for him, drawing him closer as the kiss deepens. 

Jaehyun shifts in your embrace, and then he’s moving to be between your legs, which spread for him. He’s on top of you now, elbows digging into the pillows while you make out like teenagers in love for the first time.

He just feels so good. 

For a long time, you’ve felt like an anxious person. You have a lot of weight on your shoulders, but when you’re kissing Jaehyun, that pressure feels lifted. Your mind goes blank as the two of you make out, your body at the forefront instead of your thoughts. 

Jaehyun slowly begins to grind down against you, and the gentle pressure on your clit has you groaning against his lips.

You feel him smirk, and then he begins to kiss down your throat, taking his time to suck gently on your skin.

One of his hands slides up your thigh, teasing the waistband of your sleeping shorts before moving back down again. He’s so warm, and you hips push up for more stimulus.

“Jae-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair.

“Slow, or fast?” he asks, pulling away from your throat to look down at you.

“A bit of both.”

He cocks his head to the side.

“Fast to get my clothes off, slow to explore, then make me cum,” you clarify.

Jaehyun laughs. “Whatever you want, superstar.”

Your skin tingles at the nickname, and your pussy throbs as Jaehyun begins to remove his clothes. Each button feels like an eternity to get undone, but when he slips the fabric off, you find yourself practically drooling.

He has such a perfect body, not too lean, not too muscled, just perfect. 

Then, Jaehyun begins to take off your robe and you sit up to help him. Soon, your shirt is being tugged over your head, and your nipples immediately pebble at the cool air of your hotel room.

You lay back down, staring up at him while Jaehyun takes in your body.

“Glowing,” he whispers, cupping your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple. 

You whimper at the sensation, and his eyes move up to your face. He’s grinning at you. “Sensitive?” he asks, gently pinching the bud.

You groan, shifting against the bed. “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Jaehyun promises, leaning down to kiss you again.

He begins to descend to your throat again, but this time, he goes even farther down, making it to your chest. The first flick of his tongue against your nipple has you whining, and you thread your fingers through his hair again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

He continues to suck on your breasts, paying attention to both nipples. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second, and you’re torn between loving the feeling of this and wanting something more.

It’s as if he reads you, because he pulls away from your chest, hooking his fingers in your shorts. You both adjust to allow him to get you fully naked, and then he lays down between your legs. He presses kisses along the sensitive flesh of your thighs, looking up at you.

There’d been a time in your life when you hadn’t loved eye contact during pussy eating, but there’s something so erotic about the way Jaehyun’s watching you as he brings his mouth to your core.

He kisses your clit gently, and you watch as his eyes close, his tongue swiping up your folds to taste the wet that has accumulated there.

He groans, delving deeper with his tongue, his large hands grabbing your thighs as an anchor as he begins to devour you. 

Has anyone ever eaten you out like this? Jeno wasn’t much of a giver unfortunately, and it feels like forever since you’ve had someone doing to you what Jaehyun is currently doing.

Your entire body feels alive, with each flick and suck- You’re clutching at the blankets now, moaning desperately as he works you up faster than any man before him ever has.

You guess you hadn’t put a time limit on making you cum. You’d told him fast to undress, which he did, slow to explore, which he also did- and now, it seems he’s intent on making you cum on his tongue, which is something you have no issues with.

“Jae-” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He looks up at you and you begin to move your hips, riding his face. He stays still, letting you use him, and you can tell from the groan he releases that he kind of likes you taking control in this way.

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Please make me cum.”

Jaehyun’s fingers dig into your thighs, and then he’s back at it. He takes lead again, sucking your clit into his mouth while you cry out and grab the sheets with your free hand.

Your eyes close, your back arching a little as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

It’s a steady build of pleasure, and then, you’re tipping over. You release a strangled gasp as ecstasy courses through you like electric shocks from the tip of your head down to your toes and fingers.

You can feel your pussy contracting with pleasure, a steady rhythm that prolongs the sensation. Jaehyun continues to suck on your clit, helping you through everything until you’re a gasping mess.

He relents, and you can hear him sit up. Your eyes are still closed, one hand now haphazardly thrown across your eyes as you try to catch your breath.

The sound of Jaehyun’s pants hitting the floor draws your attention, and you look up to find Jaehyun standing there in all his glory.

“Still want to do this?” he asks.

“Get over here,” you command, opening your arms for him.

Jaehyun flashes you a grin, then he rejoins you on the bed.

Your lips are meeting a moment later. It’s not a gentle slow exploration anymore, but a hungry, lust fuelled haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it turns you even more. You wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him closer.

His cock rubs between your pussy lips and you whimper, reaching between yourselves to line him up- Jaehyun takes your hand, moving it aside. Then, two fingers enter your soaked core and you groan against his lips.

“Gotta prep you,” Jaehyun muses. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while.” 

“Don’t tease though,” you warn gently, looking up at him.

“Never.” He kisses you again, drowning out the anxious thoughts as he finger fucks you, spreading his fingers and working you open in preparation for his cock.

Jaehyun begins to curl his digits, hitting the sensitive spot inside of you that has you groaning. You break the kiss to burrow your face against his throat, panting as he draws more and more pleasure out of your already exhausted body.

You feel something drip on your upper thigh, and you look down to see the precum leaking out of Jaehyun’s tip. “Sorry,” he groans, “I’m just, super turned on right now.”

“Then fuck me,” you insist, biting at his earlobe. “I’m prepped now.”

“You sure?”

“We’re both dripping, Jae, just fuck me.”

“You got it, superstar.” Jaehyun grins as he kisses you. He finger fucks you a little more and then he pulls his digits out of your wet core. You watch him sit up, licking his fingers clean, then he grabs the base of his cock.

He presses the tip into you, looking up to watch your reaction. When you release a moan, Jaehyun grins. He steadies over you again, his biceps bulging as his lips meet your own. He pushes deeper inside of you, taking it slow until his hips are flush against yours.

You both groan at the feeling.

“See?” you gasp. “Told you I could take you.”

“Taking me so well,” Jaehyun agrees, his breath hot against your throat as he begins to pepper your skin with kisses.

Jaehyun’s hips start to move, and he fucks you gently at first, allowing your inner walls to get used to the size of him. His kisses distract you as he opens you up, his pace increasing.

You release a loud moan when the tip of his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, and you can feel Jaehyun grin against your throat. “Right there?” he asks, doing the motion again. “Is that the place?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding. “Right there.”

Jaehyun brings his lips to your own, and he kisses you deeply as he continues to abuse that special spot. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucks you. God, you’re so lost in him, in the best possible way.

You never miss out on beauty sleep, but Jaehyun is more than worth it.

“Superstar?”

“Yeah?” you ask, half delirious.

“Would it be bad if I asked you to ride me?” 

“Huh?”

“I just- I could still fuck up into you, but I don’t know, I kind of want to see you on top.”

“Really?” you look up at him in shock. “You strike me as a man who likes to have control.”

“Says the woman who likes to have control,” he counters with a grin. “Or… do you just want to be my pillow princess?”

You consider it for a moment. “You know what, yeah, let me get on top, I want to watch you when you cum.”

Jaehyun physically shivers from your words, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest. “Fuck,” he groans. “Yeah, get on top.”

It’s a quick adjustment, with Jaehyun dragging you onto his lap. You sit down on his cock and both of you groan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you like this, and you press your hands to his chest, steadying yourself for a moment.

Then, you begin to bounce.

Jaehyun throws his head back against the pillows, moaning deeply.

Fuck, he’s so hot like this.

There’s something so erotic about being on top, on knowing that you’re going to be riding him when he cums.

Your whole relationship has been about competing for power, and now, in the midst of one of the most vulnerable exchanges of power, Jaehyun had stopped from his position on top to give you the opportunity to be in control.

You like that. You like it a lot. 

It shows he hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about the two of you glowing together, and it gives you a newfound kind of hope for whatever relationship is budding between the two of you.

You ride him harder at the thought, and his hands find your hips, helping you bounce.

“Fuck, fuck-” Jaehyun groans, his fingers digging into your skin. “Feels so good.”

In all honesty, the first position had felt better for you, when he was doing all the work, but you’d never admit that to him, especially not while deep in the throes of passion like this. He’d already made you cum, and now, you want to return the favour.

You ignore the burning in your thighs, fucking Jaehyun in a way you’ve never fucked a man before. You can feel the power of it bubbling inside of you, and you focus on his expression, on the pleasure that’s written all over him.

“Jae,” you groan, “want you to cum for me.”

“Don’t-” he swallows thickly. “Don’t you want me to hold out a little longer?”

“It’s our first time, we have flights tomorrow,” you retort. “Just let go, I wanna feel it.”

“You and your scheduling,” Jaehyun laughs, but it quickly turns into a groan, his eyes closing again. “Fuck, okay, but you have to let me make it up to you sometime.”

“Next time we see each other we can spend hours fucking,” you tell him.

“Promise?”

“I promise, now be good and cum for me, yeah?”

Jaehyun shivers again, and there’s a slight look of confusion on his face. You get the sense that he’s not used to being talked down to like this- but it’s clear it turns him on in a new, foreign sort of way.

“Okay, yeah.” Jaehyun anchors himself against the bed, and then he begins fucking up into you, his muscles rippling under his perfect skin. “Shit, fuck-”

You watch the pleasure build in him, until he reaches his peak. The tension clearly snaps, and he lets out a deep groan that goes straight to your core.

You continue to ride him, intent on helping him through it-

Jaehyun grabs you and pulls you down to his chest, holding you still as he shoots his load deep in your pussy. He’s groaning in your ear, hips twitching-

God, you love the way you’re pinned like this, the way he’s cumming so hard he needed you to just stop. 

You allow him to finish, and his grip slowly lets up on you. He’s no longer using his strength to keep you still, he’s just holding you, the two of you panting desperately.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“That day, behind my trailer, the first time I held you,” Jaehyun clears his throat, “could you feel my heart racing the way it is now?”

“I was more focused on my own heart,” you admit.

“Yeah?”

“It was going pretty fast.”

Jaehyun releases a laugh, holding you tighter. “Guess we were both in for it, huh?”

“Guess so.” 

Jaehyun holds you a little while longer, and then he sighs. “I should let you get your beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, but you can stay over if you want.”

“Really?”

“Could you imagine how much people would react if the paparazzi got a picture of you leaving my hotel tomorrow morning?”

Another chuckle escapes him. “You and your PR training.”

“You love it,” you insist.

Jaehyun releases a sigh, burying his face closer to your throat. “I do love it.” 

You’re from the same world, the same industry, and no one has ever understood you or your job the way Jaehyun does.

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you set to fly to different countries in just a couple of hours, something about him just feels so right.

You’ve spent your whole life trying to be someone else for other people, for your management team, for your fans- but with Jaehyun, maybe you can just be exactly who you are, professional obligations and all.

He’d said it himself, he’d seen your glow from the moment you met, even as awkward kids on a tv show trying to make names for yourself. He’d seen your sparkle before you’d even seen it in yourself, and now, maybe he’s right. Maybe you can learn to glow together.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I kind of loved working on this au, I know it's not classical 'he's an actual cowboy' but I really loved working with Jae as this character

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. You’ve been in love before, but it was always different. You were always with men who saw you as a prize. They put you on a pedestal, and it was often one sided with genuine empathy. You were a support in their lives, as opposed to a form of mutual understanding.But Jaehyun understands you, so you can confidently say he’s the sweetest love you’ve had.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, worship kink, substantial foreplay/prep, fingering, squirting, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, praise, man handling, anal (thumb in the butt), etc…   I petnames. (hers) superstar. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

bonus

“Wow,” you breathe, staring out at the crowd as you clutch the Grammy in your hand. “I can honestly say, I never expected this award. To win Best Music Video, I just- I’m in shock. I want to thank my parents, my label, my team of wonderful people, production, styling, Hwasa, who directed the video, and Mark, my manager. I want to thank my fans especially, I wouldn’t be anywhere without you. And, I also want to thank my amazing scene partner, Jaehyun. I know a lot of people were confused about Jae being the Model Cowboy, but he showed up to set, and something just clicked. We made magic with this one, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Thanks again, wow, thanks.” 

You’re practically shaking as you make your way off the stage to go rejoin your group of people in the audience. Hwasa and Mark both give you a hug, and Johnny pats you on the back. When you reach Jaehyun, he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight as he presses kisses along your face.

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[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better��more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

[girlsoutlate]

the lead up to price sharing his birdie with his men, and badly hidden curiousity on their behalf

part two

fem reader described as having hair that can be tied up, slight age gap (older price) THE BOYS ARE NOSYYY

the 141 can be considered nosy by nature, but have the excuse of it being their job. some are more open than others about their home life. ghost seemed to live quite a solitary life whereas gaz and soap had shared family pictures. nevertheless, there was some idea of each others lives outside of the military. but one person stayed an enigma: captain john price. maybe because it felt strange to know so much about their superior as well as role model. price had never shown an aversion to talking about his life, but the 141 had never asked- shocking to say the least. they all had their own theories. gaz thought he used to be married but it ended in a disastrous divorce- yet there was no trace of any mrs price. soap guessed he liked the company of pretty women, if you catch his drift. but never heard any boasting from his captain. ghost concluded he was similar to him, perhaps with a few more friends and a family, there was no reason to think otherwise. yet none of them guessed there was gorgeous thing like you john was all to eager to return home to each night, until now.

the 141 had been seeing signs of a woman close to their captain for about a month now. it started with a faint hint of fruity perfume under his cigar musk and aftershave, that was out of place on such a man. gaz pointed it out, making the rest of the 141 laugh. however it was forgotten about by the next hour, no one thought anymore of it. then the next day a hairband around prices wrist. he must have forgotten to take it off after you taught him how to plait your hair the night before. it was a work in progress. the simple black band was noticed by ghost while exchanging paperwork. he brushed it off despite finding it a little odd. the first piece of solid evidence they find of the captains mystery woman was his lockscreen.

they were in their common room, taking a break from the never ending pile of paperwork. squashed on the small couches they were joking about the new recruits, which was one of their many favourite topics to complain about. the hum of fluorescent lights was drowned out by their banter. mugs with dregs of coffee in them and a half empty pack of fags sat on the table. while talking, prices phone lit up with a notification. soap, the nosy shite, immediately noticed his lockscreen. a picture of a woman with her back to the camera: gossamer hair and skin that glowed in the sunny view she was admiring. with an eyebrow quirked, soap turned to his captain and asked too casually "whose tha'?". without missing a beat price replied smugly "the missus". for once soap shut up, and looked at the others with his mouth slightly agape, checking if they heard the same thing. ghost let out a grunt which they now knew to be a laugh. gaz's eyes were growing wider by the second. price seemed done and returned to whatever the previous subject was, which had quickly become forgotten. at that point gaz, soap and ghost were a pack of dogs with a bone. who was prices pretty birdie?

over the next month or so the boys had heightened interest on their captains home life. of course they cared about the details of the captains weekend plans, did he fancy going to that quite pricey restaurant that had opened up? it was necessary for them to ask the source of his dinner that evening, did he know the recipe? the competitive streak in them was made apparent sooner rather than later, all fighting to get more important information than the others. even though, if anything was discovered it was immediately shared. one day gaz stumbled upon gold.

he was in prices office, relatively spacious with a small couch in the corner and a bookcase in another. whilst chatting about an upcoming meeting, a buzz emanated from prices phone. before gaz could read the caller id price snatched it up and grumbled "won't be a minute". thinking it was a work call, gaz was surprised to hear his captains voice suddenly becoming as soft as it could. turning to face the window johns small smile wasn't missed as he murmured "hi love, how are ya?". staying still and quiet as to not get kicked out, gaz listened to the chirpy voice that could be faintly heard through the tinny phone. with a content sigh john replied "steak for dinner? tha's perfect". a wide grin crept on to gaz's face. a giggle and another sentence could be heard before price replied "of course i'll pick tha' up for dessert" both of you let out a small laugh when john continued "are ya tryna kill me?". just when gaz thought this couldn't get any better, price fondly said to you "i'll see ya at home sweet'eart". as he hung up and turned back around the sergeant found it near impossible to dampen his grin.

john had told you of his boys' detective work, which he considered shoddy at best. as you were flitting around the kitchen that evening, you were bemused at your boyfriends recount of the day. when he described his sergeants face after the phonecall you let out a loud laugh, bouncing off the tiles of your cosy kitchen. john sat by the table watching you busy yourself by the counter, as he nursed his beer he couldn't help but take in your appearance. tendrils of loose hair curled around your ears, escaping from your loose ponytail. although hidden by one of his tops and comfy jogging bottoms, he could make out the slopes and peaks of your body that he was all too familiar with. as you turned to face him, he was drawn closer to the twinkling reflection of light in your eyes. before he realised it he was towering over you, eyes raking over your form with the beer abandoned on the table. you looked up at him, hand on your hip. "john are you even listening to me?" you asked, face comically blank. "sorry doll, what was that?" he huskily replied, slightly dazed. "pass me a can. please?" you asked, adding a awfully fake cheesy smile at the end.

pressing a kiss to your lips as an apology, he was about to pull away before you deepened it. pulling his barrel of a body against yours, his mouth slightly opened. the bitter taste of beer and cigars mingled with sweet cider from yours. pulling back, slightly breathless, johns blown pupils met yours. "yer so gorgeous, don't know wha' i did to deserve ya" he muttered, the closeness of his voice making you slightly weak. as his calloused thumb brushed over your warm cheek you coyly commented "what would your men think if they saw you like this?". for a moment john faltered, thinking about how they would feel if they saw him being intimate with someone like you- let alone how he would feel. his flushed cheeks were the subject of your teasing for the rest of that night.

while eating your dinner you brought up the 141 since you were already talking about them. you knew your boyfriend felt a responsibility to look after his girl, despite you being more than capable. whenever his deployment was brought up it was usually by him. telling you where he went and anything that he thought might interest you, from an aspect of their culture to a cute cat he saw. sometimes he brought trinkets back. but never about what he had done, or what he had ordered to be done. so the members of the 141 were more characters in your head than real people. you knew their names and basic personality but that was all. so when you asked "how much do they know about me?" it was rather tentative. john paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, thinking. shaking his head he replied decidedly "not much, besides y' mine. they're nosy fuckers, practically begged me to show them a proper picture of you". you hummed in response, finishing your mouthful of food. quietly you muttered "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they knew more". letting the question hang in the air, you picked up the last forkful of food which went down your throat in a lump. john was silent, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

he considered your proposal, if his girl was concerned then it was worth thinking about. plainly he asked "why?", trusting you to be open. "well, you spend a lot of time with them- i'm not jealous. its just that.. you trust these men with your life, i don't even know what they look like." pausing for a second you continued "its more for my sake than theirs. if i knew them past their names it would make it, well, easier to be apart from you for so long. i know you can look after yourself, but i- i'm always gonna worry about you." with that said, the air in the kitchen grew heavier. you kept your eyes glued on to your plate as johns gaze from across the table burned in to you.

the captain realised that you wanted to know more, for your wellbeing rather than the 141's. now, he realised it was quite a simple conclusion. he imagined his girl cold and alone in an empty house, no idea where he was or who he was with, for weeks at a time. five minute phone calls spent trying to find better service than speaking to each other. no idea who john was fighting or how difficult it was. no clue about who he was trusting his life with in your absence. how on earth could he not expect you to have an issue with it? he kicked himself, he made his sweetheart worry. he could have prevented it and he didn't, too focused on a successful mission than the only thing he wanted to return home for. price knew this had to change, or risk isolating you even more than he does because of his job.

john stood up, chair screeching on the kitchen tiles while he sighed "fuckin 'ell i'm an idiot". gathering both plates and putting them on the counter, he ran a hand across his face and turned to you. just as you took a breath to take it all back, john interrupted you: "you should meet 'em". you cocked your head to the side, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "whats changed your mind?" you enquired, curious about the sudden change. replying half-heartedly, still deep in thought "just thinkin' about you here on your own, worryin'". taking a deep breath he stated "i'll talk to them about it. you". walking up to him with a small smile on your face you leant up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, beard tickling your chin. "thankyou john" you whispered. reaching up to get the plates the rumble of his voice deep in his chest saying "anythin' for you doll" reverberated against your back.

as he turned to get the dessert out of the fridge the most pressing question yet entered his mind: how would he ask the 141 to meet his birdie- without them going mad?

thankyou for reading :))) each like, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated. this is more for context to the main meeting that has been stuck in my head for ages. if you liked this keep an eyes out!!!

heyyy guys long time no see. had a crazy two weeks, found out my boyfriend was practically cheating on me for the last month of our relationship and he already has a new girlfriend after two weeks. apart from that im grand. sorry it took so long for me to post properly again, thankyou for being patient

[mournthebird]

Bleeding Heart. | B.B

summary: You're his assigned nurse.

warnings: Angst & Comfort | 40's!Bucky - WS!Bucky | Violence & description of injuries | Medical procedures | Brief description of torture | Death of minor characters | Creepy soldiers & scientists | Dehumanization | HYDRA experiments

a/n: EDIT: Originally posted on my main but deleted to post here and it will be a new series I will write for. Still writing for my recovery series too! But now I have two with WS <3

A lot of nurses in WW1 and WW2 were called 'mother' or 'mom' a lot by the soldiers and I just wanted to write something like that. I made it work lol. I also tried to write more dialogue in this one since I tend to just focus on details and painting a picture so hopefully it doesn't seem too much. Also, in the comics it is said that Bucky's mother died when he was young, but for the sake of this story, she's still alive. ;; wc: 10.6k 😭

Unedited because I just want to post this. Errors to be fixed later.

Bucky did his best.

He did his best to stay strong for his friend, his family, and his fellow soldiers. To be the role model he was always viewed to be, to put on a brave face and stare at fear without flinching.

But there were some things he couldn't stay strong for.

"Sergeant Barnes, this is the third time this week, and it's barely Tuesday." You frowned at the soldier sitting in your tent, his usual charming smile now tinged with a hint of pain as he clutched his side. "There are other nurses here too, you know. I'm starting to think you're deliberately getting yourself into trouble just to see me."

Bucky huffed and slowly lowered himself onto the bed, a barely suppressed wince crossing his face as he settled. His hand remained firmly pressed against his bleeding side, the crimson stain slowly spreading beneath his fingers. "Now, doll, would I do something like that?" He asked, his voice strained despite his attempt at levity. "I only like when you tend to me...you've got the gentlest touch in the whole camp. I swear it."

He grunted softly through gritted teeth, clearly trying to maintain his façade of nonchalance. But you could see right through it - the tightness around his eyes, the slight tremor in his hand, the paleness of his usually ruddy cheeks. Your frown deepened as you approached, worry gnawing at your insides. You maintained professionalism the best you could, but you couldn’t help but care a bit too much for this one soldier.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Sergeant," you replied, though your tone was gentle. You were already reaching for your medical supplies, your training kicking in despite your exasperation. "Now, let's see what mess you've gotten yourself into this time."

"It's nothing, really." He attempts to deceive, fully aware that his lie is transparent to you. A visible grimace crosses his face as his gaze reluctantly drops to the crimson stain spreading across his uniform. "Just got roughed up on the battlefield, a little scrape," he adds, trying to downplay the severity with a nonchalant shrug that doesn't quite mask his discomfort.

Your eyes narrow as you carefully examine the injury, gently pushing his protective hand aside to get a better look. The wound is angry and raw, far more severe than he's letting on. "This is significantly more than a minor scrape, Barnes," you chide softly, your concerned gaze meeting his. A flicker of embarrassment crosses his features; the seasoned soldier, so accustomed to projecting strength and capability, felt himself struggling with this moment of physical weakness.

"It's...it's not that bad, sweetheart, don't go worryin' too much about me," He chuckled through gritted teeth, his strong front crumbling as you delicately probe the inflamed skin surrounding the wound. His body instinctively recoils from your touch, a sharp intake of breath betraying the intensity of his pain. "Ah, damn it!" He hisses, his composure finally shattering under the weight of his injury. "Why'd you go and do that for," he asked with strain.

"Oh, Barnes...this seems like something you could have easily avoided," you observed, your keen eyes quickly assessing the shrapnel wound and the way it had likely come into contact with his body. You couldn't help but furrow your brow slightly, concern and mild exasperation crossing your features.

Bucky was known for his agility and quick reflexes; he typically managed to escape fights with either minor scrapes or, in the worst scenarios, severe injuries, or even completely unscathed. This particular wound, falling somewhere in between, was uncharacteristic of him, suggesting that something must have been distracting him.

"You have absolutely no sympathy for me," he grumbles, though there’s no real bite to his words. His steel blue eyes remain fixed on your hands as you carefully apply the gauze to his injury, your touch gentle and practiced. There's a subtle softening in his expression, a quiet appreciation for your care despite his feigned complaint.

"It's deep..." You muttered, your brow furrowing with concern as you carefully examined the wound. Pulling your hands away, you reached for more of the sterile gauze you had ready behind you. "I am going to keep holding some gauze over it so I can help the blood clot and stop flowing so quick," you added, your voice calm but tinged with an urgency he picked up on that only helped that tiny seed of anxiety begin to sprout.

Bucky's face contorted, his eyes met yours, searching for reassurance. "Just tell me I won’t die from it, and I’ll be fine" He attempted a wry smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was always a subtle tease in his playful tone. You were almost certain Bucky Barnes couldn't take anything seriously.

"You’ll live, Sergeant Barnes," you replied, your tone steady and professional. "But I won't sugarcoat it, and it isn't a simple scratch. You're going to need a substantial number of stitches, and the recovery process won't be pleasant." You turned back to the wound while you spoke to him, pressing the gauze firmly against it, the white fabric quickly bloomed with crimson. "Especially knowing you and your inability to sit still."

Bucky let out a long, weary sigh. "Fantastic. Just what I needed to add to my list of battle scars," he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. But then, almost imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth twitched upward. His eyes, still fixed on you, softened slightly. "Well, if I have to be patched up, at least I'm in the best possible hands," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you. "And scars are pretty attractive, huh?" He quipped with a lopsided grin.

"Uh-huh. Be still for me, alright soldier?" You hummed softly, your voice soothing him a little. You could read him like a book and the more cheeky he got, the more nervous he was. You prepared a needle to numb the site of the injury before you could begin the delicate process of suturing the wound, something you had done many times prior with other patients. You were the best at stitches, able to leave minimal scarring, even on large injuries.

Bucky nodded, his body tensing slightly as he tried to suppress the involuntary shiver that cascaded down his spine at your clinical tone. A potent blend of attraction and a hint of intimidation stirred in his gut at your tone. He found your authoritative presence both alluring and slightly unnerving, he always had a secret attraction to commanding women. Something about that stern, yet caring tone of yours just made him want to pull you on top of him.

Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep, steadying breath, attempting to steel himself mentally for the impending discomfort. "Just get it done and over with," he muttered, his voice a low rumble.

"You can squeeze my hand if you want, I can do this with one," you offered. You began to clean the area of insertion, the antiseptic cool against Bucky's skin. He flinched slightly, the wipe tickling him. You smiled at the subtle flinch his body gave, observing the smile that tugged at his own lips, the short huff out of his nose that resembled a quiet laugh...it was human. A small hint that you liked about him, that little bit of him that he allowed you to see. Despite most of the nurses seeing their patients as stoic soldiers, you never did.

You angle the needle, poised to begin the procedure. Bucky's eyes flickered open, his gaze drawn inexorably to your face. He studied your features intently, noting the concentration etched in every line, before his eyes drifted to your outstretched hand. He swallowed thickly, feeling a familiar knot of nervousness tighten in his chest.

"Don't let me break your hand, doll," he warned, his voice affectionate. He reached out, enveloping your hand in his. His grip was firm enough to convey his need for support, yet gentle, mindful of his own strength and your delicate fingers. The warmth of your skin against his provided comfort, grounding him with silent reassurance.

Bucky flinches as the needle pierces his skin, the sharp sting causing an involuntary reaction. He maintains a firm grip on your hand, just as you had requested he do, but he was conscious enough not to squeeze too hard. "Damn, that stings," he grunts through gritted teeth, his voice strained but determined. The strange feeling of cold medicine rushing through his body gave him a weird taste in his mouth, his fingers remaining intertwined with yours.

You notice his discomfort and frown slightly, working as swiftly as your expertise allows, careful not to compromise the quality of your work. "I know, I know," you respond, your voice soothing his frayed nerves. "You're doing so good, Sergeant. Just a few more seconds for the medicine to get in you." Your words are gentle, almost melodic, as you maintain a deliberately calm demeanor. You modulate your tone, keeping it soft and reassuring, hoping to quell any rising anxiety he might be experiencing. “Too quick plunging it in, and it will burn more and cause extra discomfort. We don't want that, do we?”

Bucky swallows hard, his throat working visibly as he processes the sensations. A light huff escapes his lips. As you carefully withdraw the needle from his side, his eyes find yours, seeking reassurance. "You know how to make a grown man melt, don't you?" He murmurs, his voice low and tinged with affection.

"It's a gift," you reply with a hint of playful modesty, your lips curving into a small smile. You tend to the injection site, dabbing the area with a clean piece of gauze. The soft cotton absorbs any residual blood, leaving the skin clean and ready for the next step. Once you were satisfied, you reached for the nearby tray, your fingers hovering over the surgical thread and needle.

Bucky's smile softened, his grip on your hand loosening slightly as the numbing agent began to take effect. The gradual fading of pain didn’t deter him from letting go, he maintained his gentle hold, unwilling to sever it. He liked how your hand felt in his, he wished he could be holding it while you both walked down a boardwalk together, or across from one another in a fancy restaurant, a drive-in, or just…sitting close. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for something beyond the surface. "You're far too sweet for a place like this," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air, the room remained quiet.

"War, murder, death... these aren't things you should be surrounded by. You should be at home, safe with your own family, far from the horrors of this place."

As you methodically prepared the medical supplies, Bucky watched you intently, his mind racing with questions about your presence here. The starkness between your gentle demeanor and the harsh realities of war was not lost on him. His mind couldn't help but drift with thoughts about the circumstances that had brought you to this profession. Your beauty, youth, and kindness seemed so out of place amidst the chaos and destruction.

It wasn't that Bucky believed women had no place in war, it was the thought of you, specifically, being exposed to the brutal, soul-crushing aspects of conflict that troubled him deeply. He struggled with the idea of your innocence being tarnished by the grim realities that surrounded you both.

"I... well, I don't really have what you'd call a family," you spoke slowly, your hands busy laying out a towel under his side. Your voice carried a hint of melancholy as you continued, "I lost both my parents when I was young. After that, I kind of... bounced around, I guess. From one home to another, never really finding a place where I truly belonged or felt wanted."

You paused for a moment, your fingers absently smoothing out a wrinkle in the towel. "So, I decided to pour myself into school. I worked incredibly hard, determined to make something of myself. Eventually, I earned my medical license, and now...now I feel like I've found my purpose in life."

You realized you had never opened up to any of the others like this before. Talking about yourself, especially your past, wasn't something you typically enjoyed or felt comfortable doing. But there was something about Bucky, his presence, his quiet understanding, the gentle look in his eyes, it made you feel...safe. He was just so easy to talk to, like a calm port in the storm of your memories.

"These days," you added, your voice growing stronger as you carefully began to dab at his wound, preparing to stitch it, "I dedicate myself to helping others reunite with their families. It's my way of...I don't know, maybe making up for what I never had." Your eyes flickered up to meet Bucky's for a brief moment before returning to your work. "I want to make sure that other people don't have to experience the loneliness and uncertainty that I did."

Bucky watched you intently, listening to every word with a deep ache in his heart. The image of a small, vulnerable version of you, shuffled from house to house, unwanted and alone, formed in his mind. The capable, compassionate person before him now was so different from that little girl you once were.

"Well," You cleared your throat, changing the subject. "I'd strongly recommend bed rest, but...I have a sneaking suspicion your superiors won't allow you the luxury of recuperating properly." You let out a weary sigh, your skilled hands meticulously finishing the final sutures.

Bucky struggles to suppress a visible wince as the needle repeatedly pierces his skin, his hand instinctively tightening around your forearm in a reflexive grip. He inhales sharply through clenched teeth, making a concerted effort to maintain steady breathing. While the sutures weren’t necessarily painful, the sensation was enough to elicit a visceral reaction from him. The foreign feeling of the thread weaving through his flesh threatened to induce a wave of nausea.

"You've hit the nail on the head," he grunted, his voice strained with a mix of discomfort and resignation. "I can guarantee they'll have me back in the field at the crack of dawn, injuries be damned." His gaze shifts towards you, catching sight of the subtle frown tugging at the corners of your lips. Noticing your concern, he attempts to reassure you, his tone softening slightly. "But don't worry too much, doll. I've been through worse, and I've got a certain image to maintain, after all. Can't let a few stitches tarnish this soldier's reputation, now can I?"

You exhaled deeply, your fingers carefully finishing the last stitch. You gently dabbed the wound clean, concern and frustration crossed your features. "I wish I had more influence around here," you murmured, your voice tinged with exasperation. "If I did, I'd insist they allow you proper time to rest and recover. At the very least, until the wound begins to knit itself back together and the flesh starts to heal properly."

Bucky observed you intently as you completed the stitching process, his grip on your arm remaining firm and unwavering. "Don't stress about that," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring. His gaze found yours, holding your own steadily. "What's important right now is that I'm patched up and ready to get back into action." He attempted to sit up straighter, his muscles tensing with the effort, but couldn't suppress a sharp wince as the movement pulled at his freshly stitched wound.

"Ah, not so fast, Sergeant..." you frowned, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from rising. "I still have to dress the wound properly. We can't have you strolling out of here with those fresh stitches exposed to the elements. That's a surefire way to invite an infection, which could lead to complications far worse than your current injury. Let's not undo all my hard work, hm?" You spoke clinically and with a slight firmness, indicating that you were going to finish.

He let out a resigned sigh, his features settling into a familiar downturn. Bucky had always been the type to leap back into the fray at the earliest opportunity, even when his body screamed for rest. But he knew you well enough by now, knew the determined set of your jaw when you were in what he fondly called your 'fixer mode.'

Reluctantly, he eased back onto the bed, his muscles relaxing incrementally. "You're worse than a mother hen sometimes, you know that?" he muttered, but there was a warmth in his eyes that belied the gruffness of his words.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you resumed your work. "Is that why some of the soldiers are calling me 'mama'?" The term of endearment, far from being an insult or a source of mockery, was one that never failed to warm your heart.

These soldiers, some barely more than boys, had been wrenched away from their homes and families. Many were as young as 18, thrust into a world of chaos and violence they were ill-prepared for. It was only natural that they might seek out a maternal figure, someone to offer comfort and care in this harsh new reality. And you, with your willingness to tend to their needs, no matter how minor the injury or trivial the concern, had inadvertently stepped into that role. You were the constant, nurturing presence amidst the tumult of war, a reminder of their own mothers who anxiously awaited their return.

You recalled a recent incident involving one of the younger soldiers who had come to the medical tent for something as trivial as a paper cut from a rations wrapper. You tended to his minor wound, providing not just physical care but emotional comfort as well, knowing that was probably more so what he came for than anything.

While you applied the band-aid to his finger, you couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his eyes, a misty fog of homesickness clouding them. Your heart constricted painfully when his voice, barely above a whisper, uttered the word mama. The raw longing for his mother was etched in every line of his face as he perched on the edge of the cot, looking so young and lost in the stark surroundings of the medical tent.

Bucky's warm chuckle broke through your reverie, his lips curving into that familiar, endearing smirk that never failed to lighten the atmosphere.

"Well, with the way you fuss over everyone, I can see why they'd view you that way," he teased, his eyes twinkling with affection and playful amusement.

"Oh, is that so?" you retorted, your tone matching his playful banter. "And what about you, Sergeant Barnes? Are you next in line, hm?" Your eyebrow arched challengingly as you met his gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"For what, doll? Motherly fussin'?" He quirked back, smirking at you.

"Callin' me mama, silly." You chuckled, securing the gauze over his wound. Bucky's cheeks flushed ever so slightly, his heart fluttering at the words. He swallowed, unable to deny how much he liked the idea of calling you that, he felt that it was a bit strange but...something about it was appealing.

He searched your face, making sure it wasn't just a lighthearted joke, before letting out a soft breath. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Do you miss your mother?" You inquired gently, your voice laced with empathy. You wondered about the depth of his longing. Most of the soldiers you met harbored a special place in their hearts for their mothers, which always warmed yours. Bucky was such a sweetheart and undoubtedly no exception to this rule. How he treated you was a peek behind the curtain, he must love his mother dearly.

His gaze dropped to his fingers, which were now absently tracing patterns on the sheets. A shadow passed over his features as he responded, "Yeah, I miss her."

The admission came out soft, barely above a whisper, but the wavering pain in his voice was unmistakable. "It's just...it's really tough, you know?" He continued, his voice strained with growing emotion. "My momma, she’s the kindest soul you'd ever meet. And now here I am, thousands of miles away, caught up in this senseless war." He paused, swallowing hard against the lump that had formed in his throat. "The truth is, I was drafted. I...I tried to put on a brave face, make it seem like I was eager to serve, but...I didn't have a choice."

For a moment, Bucky fell silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point, avoiding any eye contact. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with resignation. "But I knew I had to be strong. For her sake, for Steve's too…before all that super soldier stuff happened to him. And in doing so, I guess...I never really allowed myself the luxury of feeling sad about the whole situation. It was easier to just...keep moving forward, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," you replied softly, your empathetic heart ached listening to him, never having heard him this way. "It's natural for her to be incredibly worried about you. But try to hold onto hope. You're strong, and you'll make it through this. One day you'll walk out of here and return home to her waiting arms."

Bucky exhaled shakily, his eyes lifted and locked onto yours. Something about your reassurance made his heart simultaneously ache with longing.

"Thank you..." he whispered, his voice barely audible, rough with emotion. He shifted slightly in his seat, subconsciously leaning towards you, as if drawn by an invisible force. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely allowed others to see.

Bucky swallowed hard, fighting an internal battle. That seemed like the norm now.

He didn't want to admit, even to himself, just how desperately he needed this moment of connection...how much he needed you and the comfort you provided.

"Until then...I'll fill in as that nurturing figure in your life, like I have for the others. You just have to let me." Your voice was soft and reassuring as you spoke, your fingers gently brushing away the stray locks of hair that had fallen across his forehead. The longer strand in front had curled slightly, disrupting the careful styling he had done that morning. Your touch was tender, mimicking a maternal touch in its care.

Bucky felt his breath catch in his throat, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He struggled to maintain eye contact, not wanting to betray just how deeply your offer had touched him, how much your presence alone affected him. The weight of your words, the promise of care and nurture, settled in his chest like a warm, comforting blanket despite the raging environment he had been thrown to.

"You'll be my mama?" He whispered, a hint of playfulness dancing in his voice, even as his heart thundered against his ribcage and a smile began to tug at the corners of his lips.

Despite his initial reluctance to show weakness, he found himself unconsciously leaning into your touch, seeking more of the comfort you offered. The walls he had built around himself seemed to crumble under the gentleness of your gaze. "Then I'm all yours, mama," he murmured, the term of endearment fell from his lips naturally, as if he'd been waiting to say it for longer than he led on.

"Excellent work today, my brave little soldier. You've been such a wonderful patient, sitting still and following instructions like the courageous boy you are," you praised softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. To an outsider, this might seem like a silly interaction, but it was simply a cherished game of tender make-believe between the two of you. Completely indulgent to their needs.

You enjoyed giving the soldiers a hint of maternal love, reminding them of their boyhood amongst the war and death they endured. Seeing their eyes light up from being dull to shining with tenderness was something you’d never get tired of. "Now, remember to be gentle with yourself and try not to put too much pressure or strain on your left side, alright?"

Bucky nodded obediently, his expression softening into something almost childlike and vulnerable. He was accustomed to following orders, but there was something uniquely comforting about the way you spoke to him, as if he were something precious, something to be protected. He winced slightly as he carefully maneuvered himself off the bed, mindful of his injury. "I promise I'll be careful, mama," he replied, his voice brimming with sincerity and a touch of eagerness to please.

"That's my good boy," you cooed, your eyes crinkling with fondness. The dusting on his cheeks wasn’t hard to miss, but you didn’t comment on it. "Now, off you go, but remember - be cautious and take it easy and if you need anything at all, come right back to mama.”

“I will.”

Things happened with such rapidity that you struggled to react to the unfolding chaos.

The tranquility of the camp after nightfall was abruptly shattered by an influx of unfamiliar soldiers, their presence bringing devastation and death to those you had come to know. Your eyes, wide with terror, took in the horrific sight of fallen comrades strewn across the blood-stained earth. The amount of gore you saw would be permanently etched into your eyelids, you were sure you’d never be able to un-see such disgusting sights. Unmarked soldiers rushed, killing brutally, starting fires, grenades exploding in the dirt and splattering the earth and guts everywhere.

In a moment of panic-driven self-preservation, you attempted to flee, only to have your escape halted by the heart-wrenching cry of the youngest soldier in the unit.

The anguished plea emanated from his prone form, his life essence seeping into the unforgiving soil beneath him. The weight of the situation bore down upon you with crushing force, threatening to overwhelm both your emotional fortitude and mental resilience.

Suppressing your own fear and anguish, you found yourself kneeling beside the fallen soldier, gently cradling his head in your lap. As his life ebbed away, you summoned every ounce of strength to maintain a façade of calm and comfort, though you knew you were doing a poor job. The young man's quiet sobs, born of terror and agony, pierced the air around you, louder than any of the gunfire. “Ma…ma.” The poor soldier rasped at you, his shaky, bloodied hand rasping around your wrist. It was only after his final breath had passed that you allowed your own tears to fall, having shielded him from the depths of your own fear in his final moments.

He still wore the brightly colored band-aid you had applied to him earlier contrasted against his dirt-smeared skin. The blood somehow washing right off as if to mock you.

God, your heart couldn't take this. Neither could your mind.

He was barely eighteen.

You stood, your eyes wide with terror as you frantically scanned your surroundings as things only proceeded to get worse by the second. Without another thought, you bolted off in a random direction, your only instinct being to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the chaos of the battle raging behind you. You were overwhelmed by panic and fear, only being able to focus on escaping. The lack of any combat training or experience left you feeling utterly helpless, knowing full well that you stood no chance against the well-armed and battle-hardened soldiers.

You plunged headlong into the dense forest to at least seek some cover, your feet pounding against the uneven, damp ground. Ferns slapping your bare legs as you ran, the dew from them helping wash away the blood staining your skin. Your blind rush left your sense of sight helpless and you collided with something solid. The impact was jarring, sending you sprawling backwards onto the forest floor with a resounding thud from the force.

Before you could scramble to your feet, a vice-like grip encircled your wrist, your heart sank as you realized it was one of the attackers who had caught you. As if materializing from the shadows, several more emerged from the cover of the dark ferns, their piercing gazes fixed upon your uniform as they silently deliberated your fate.

The air around them was thick with the acrid stench of gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood. Carried on the wind was the unmistakable smell of burning flesh, the destruction wrought by grenades and the inferno consuming the camp's tents.

You finally saw a single emblem that you had all but recognized, causing a wave of panic and nausea to intensify. It was red amongst their black uniforms, making out the shape of tentacles and a skull.

HYDRA had methodically and ruthlessly stripped away every last shred of your humanity, leaving you a hollow shell of your former self. Their relentless assault on your psyche knew no bounds, pushing you far beyond what you ever thought possible for a human to endure.

When they first approached you in that tiny cell they stored you in, their request seemed simple enough - they were in need of a skilled nurse to care for their injured soldiers. However, your initial refusal to comply with their demands almost made you wish you had agreed at the beginning of your capture.

Almost.

If there was one thing HYDRA excelled at, it was the systematic destruction of an individual's will. Their techniques were refined, honed over years of practice, designed to break even the strongest of spirits.

The facility was designed to erode your sense of self until you finally shattered under the immense pressure. Like a relentless tide, they wore away at your resolve, bit by bit, until you crumbled like a fragile twig beneath their unyielding boot. The speed at which you broke filled you with a deep sense of shame, feeling like you were incredibly weak minded, but after enduring weeks of near-starvation, psychological torment, and unrelenting physical abuse, you simply couldn't withstand it any longer.

You weren’t meant for this. You weren’t a trained soldier. You were just a nurse who wanted to help people.

A paralyzing fear had taken root in your very core. This hellish existence was so far removed from the life you once knew, from everything you had ever prepared for. You were adrift in a sea of terror, desperately clinging to the last remnants of your sanity.

They had curiously allowed their lead scientist to conduct experiments on you, though the exact nature of his work remained a mystery. It wasn’t like he was going to sit down and explain to you what he was going to do.

The HYDRA scientist was a man of undeniable brilliance and questionable ethics. He bestowed upon you a myriad of gifts, each more terrifying than the last. His demeanor was characteristically cruel and rough, embodying the very essence of someone who thrived in such a morally bankrupt environment.

He subjected you to a barrage of experiments, each more harrowing than the last. Serum after serum was mercilessly pumped into your veins, their effects causing you to writhe in agony on the cold, unforgiving table. Your screams were his favorite symphony, echoing through the sterile laboratory walls as the bastard actually hummed along.

The scientist's excitement was disturbing, his eyes gleaming with a twisted fascination. It was evident that having a female subject at his disposal was a novel experience for him, one that he relished with disturbing enthusiasm, devoid of basic human empathy and consumed by his perverse scientific pursuits.

Sick freak.

But you were consumed by shame, feeling that you had succumbed far too quickly to their demands. The pain was unbearable, the excruciating torment they put you through felt never-ending. You were unable to withstand the relentless torture and psychological conditioning for long, and you loathe to acknowledge just how swiftly they managed to break your resolve.

You thought you were better than that, if not physically, mentally.

The ease with which you submitted left a bitter taste in your mouth. While the scientist overseeing your case expressed disappointment at your rapid surrender, viewing it as a setback in their research, the director of the facility was elated.

They now possessed a somewhat compliant and skilled nurse for their own soldiers, one whose will had been thoroughly crushed and who lacked the ability to refuse any command, no matter how unethical or dangerous. Your newfound obedience was seen as a valuable asset, and they made good use of that without hesitation or remorse.

However, your status a caretaker did not save you from everything.

It did not grant your safety or autonomy.

You vividly recalled being guided towards a strange looking chamber, its cold metallic surface gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights. As you were carefully placed inside, the last sensations you remembered were the gradual drop in temperature and an overwhelming drowsiness before consciousness slipped away entirely, leaving you in a void of nothingness.

The cryogenic process proved to be unreliable in your case.

The facility frequently used you as a test subject for their cryo chambers, ostensibly to ensure their proper functioning. Their decision of subjecting you, their only nurse, to potential risks seemed counterintuitive. The reasoning behind their actions remained unknown, leaving you with more questions than answers. You were used to this reality, your mind fogged with an array of questions that were never answered.

Your days were a blur of tending to injured agents and wounded soldiers, with scarcely a moment to think of your situation or the facility's cryptic motivations. As time wore on, the once-distinct uniforms began to blend into an indistinguishable mass. You noticed a gradual change in yourself as well; the spark that once animated your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a weary, almost vacant gaze - you didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

The director issued an order for you to tend to another soldier, prompting you to make your way towards the designated room for your work. The room's layout was standard for medical procedures and treatments, devoid of any personal touches or unique features. Such personalization was strictly forbidden in this sterile environment, no photos or even a tiny plant was allowed, they didn’t allow you any individuality. The space was equipped solely with the essential supplies required for you to carry out your duties efficiently and effectively.

Upon entering the room reeking of alcohol and plaster, your eyes were immediately drawn to the soldier restrained on the bed. Thick, unyielding straps securely held him in place, allowing not an inch of movement. Even with the evident effects of sedation to ensure a drowsy state, you couldn't miss the all too familiar look of fear in his eyes. It was a look you had seen countless times before, confusion and helplessness overriding any other sense. The soldier's drugged expression did little to mask the underlying panic that seemed to radiate from his body.

"Get to work," the guard commanded, his voice gruff and authoritative as he stepped aside to provide you with access. "The subject's performance was subpar today, resulting in numerous injuries. Address these wounds and restore it to full health. The director has made it clear that a complete recovery is expected by morning, without exception."

It?

You hesitated, your eyes widening in disbelief at the unreasonable demand. "Complete recovery? But sir, the extent of his injuries is too severe for that. The sheer number of wounds on him, it’s impossible to-"

Before you could finish voicing your concerns, the guard's hand struck your face with a resounding slap, the force of the impact causing your head to snap to the side. The sting of the blow had barely registered when his fingers roughly grasped your jaw, forcing you to meet his cold, unforgiving gaze. His grip tightened painfully as he leaned in close, his retched breath hot against your skin as he growled, "I said get to work, now. Your objections are irrelevant, do what is ordered of you or you will be pulled to the corrections room again. Do you understand?"

You emitted a soft whimper, forcing every muscle in your body to remain perfectly still as he seized you roughly. This was behavior you had painfully learned over time, a survival mechanism to avoid provoking additional blows. Somehow you managed to stutter out a response, your eyes reluctantly meeting the guard's harsh gaze. "I... I understand," you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper. Immediately after speaking, you lowered your gaze submissively, another gesture that had been ingrained in you through harsh conditioning.

The guard abruptly shoved you away, satisfied with your compliance. He took a step back, silently commanding you to proceed with your assigned task. Your limbs trembled and your heart was rapidly beating against your ribcage, but you obediently gathered the necessary supplies to tend to the wounded soldier. You approached cautiously, your eyes were drawn to the gleaming metal arm that caused your brow to furrow with curiosity.

Whispered rumors and hushed conversations had taught you about this particular soldier. He was described as a lethal asset, a relentless force that pursued its targets with unwavering determination. The way the agents spoke of him was chilling - more like discussing a piece of equipment or a weapon than a living, breathing human being.

That’s where the it came from.

HYDRA held little regard for anyone outside their upper echelons. In their eyes, guards and agents were as disposable as common household items, easily replaced and forgotten.

The soldier wore a muzzle-like mask, obscuring most of his face. It left only a small opening for breathing and barely enough room to moisten his lips with his tongue. You could hear his labored breaths, raspy and wet, indicating the presence of blood in his mouth. You reached out to remove the mask, wanting to allow him more room to breathe and to see what was going on beneath it. Your fingers trembled slightly as you gently pulled it away from his face, setting it aside carefully. As you did so, you noticed thick, viscous strands of blood clinging to the inside of the mask, stretching like grotesque spider webs before finally breaking.

The moment his face was revealed, your heart felt like it had stopped beating entirely. The shock of recognition hit you like a physical blow, leaving you momentarily breathless.

What you saw before you felt... impossible.

Your mind reeled, trying to make sense of it all.

You realized with a start that you had no concept of how much time had passed since your capture. In this place, this Hell on earth, you had been cut off from all natural rhythms. The sky, its comforting cycle of sun and moon, had become a distant memory. There were no clocks, no way to mark the passage of hours or days. Time had become a fluid, disorienting concept, sometimes crawling by with agonizing slowness, other times rushing past in a blur of monotony and fear.

You almost felt like you had been driven mad by the mere concept of time itself.

Your world had shrunk to the confines of your prison. The stark, featureless walls that surrounded you had become your entire universe since the moment of your capture. They were constant, unchanging, a blank canvas for your fears and dwindling hopes. And now, faced with this unexpected revelation, you felt those walls closing in even tighter, your sense of reality shifting once again.

This soldier...his vibrant blue eyes dulled with pain and exhaustion, his once-pouty lips now chapped and drawn tight with tension and crusted with blood. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes begin to burn with unshed tears as you took in his haggard appearance.

Sergeant Barnes, James, Bucky. The name echoed in your mind, the memory of the charming soldier was nothing like the broken man before you.

He was barely recognizable.

His frame appeared gaunt and frail, even under the thick layers of the clothes he wore, you could tell this was not his ideal weight. His hair, previously neatly trimmed, now hung long and unkempt around his face. But it was the obvious new appendage that truly drove home the extent of his transformation. The metallic arm shone coldly under the harsh lights, the red star on his shoulder like a goddamn brand.

He wore what could only be described as a perverse fusion of a straight jacket and a uniform. The black material bound him tightly and restricted his breathing, a reminder to him, and blatant display, of control. Yet, it also seemed designed to showcase their improvements to his body, as if he were nothing but a prized experiment.

Surely, there were wounds hidden beneath the uniform judging by his clear uncomfortable grimace, but removing the garment to assess his condition was out of the question. The guards would never allow it; unbinding him from the table was too great a risk in their eyes.

Bucky's eyes slowly lifted to meet yours, no longer staring blankly at the ceiling and following the many cracks in it, or possibly counting the tiny dots on the paint to stay sane. His gaze was almost unbearable to meet. His eyes were always so full of warmth, now blinked with nervousness, glossing over with a sheen of unshed tears. The man before you looked so utterly unlike the Bucky you once knew. He appeared caged, not just physically, radiating an aura of defeat that broke your heart.

"Bucky...oh my god, what have they done to you?" The words escaped your lips in a trembling whisper, your hands quivering as you gently placed them on his chest. Your fingers nervously traced the unfamiliar straps of his new uniform.

At the sound of his name, a flicker of confusion crossed his features. His brow furrowed deeply, as if trying to grasp at a memory just out of reach. The sight of his fearful memory loss sent a chill down your spine, realizing that even his own name now seemed alien to him.

The soldier lying motionless on the bed regarded you with an unsettling blankness. It was as if you were looking at a stranger wearing Bucky's face - the familiar contours were there, but the essence of the man you knew had vanished.

Your mind reeled, desperately trying to comprehend the transformation before you. The Bucky you remembered - with his easy smile and unwavering loyalty - seemed to have been erased, replaced by this hollow shell. The man you once knew, the one whose eyes used to light up at the sight of you, was gone.

In his place sat this new entity, molded by HYDRA's cruel machinations into something entirely foreign.

They had systematically dismantled him and rebuilt him from the ground up. The organization had taken the brave, compassionate soldier and twisted him into a weapon forged in the fires of their ruthless ambition.

You gazed into those vacant eyes, wondering if any trace of the old Bucky remained beneath the surface, but there was nothing.

The guard spat venomously at you, his words dripping with malice as he demanded that you immediately attend to the injured soldier. His harsh voice sliced through your thoughts like a razor, and the menacing threats he uttered were more than enough to spur you into action. You managed to carefully remove the top of the soldier's uniform with trembling hands, revealing his bare chest and the horrifying extent of his hidden injuries.

His skin was a canvas of violent bruising, ranging from deep purples to sickly yellows, creating a grotesque patchwork across his torso. A jagged stabbing injury that looked raw and angry, and an active gunshot wound in his lower abdomen that was still oozing blood at an alarming rate.

Your medical training kicked in, overriding your initial shock. "How long has he been in this condition?" You demanded of the guard, urgency in your tone as your hands moved swiftly, pressing a thick wad of gauze firmly over the bleeding gunshot wound. The sudden pressure elicited a sharp hiss of pain from the soldier, a momentary crack in his composure. However, almost immediately, his features smoothed back into a mask of stoicism. You couldn't help but notice the flicker of terror in his eyes. The potential consequences of displaying weakness in this hostile environment rushed through his expression.

"Just patch it up, we don't have all day. It's due for cryo." The guard replied coldly, "Damn thing's malfunctioning too often, can't get it to obey a single fuckin' thing."

"HE." You retorted with a frown, glaring up at the guard. "This is a person! Not a machine, he is a he. Not an it." You insistence on Bucky's person only seemed to piss the guard off even more.

There wasn't much you could do to avoid the baton colliding into your face.

You were so careful, your hands steady despite the cruel denial of numbing medication as you carefully stitched his wounds. The deliberate withholding of pain relief was something they commonly did to their assets, to increase their pain resistance. Though, whether or not it was punishment for you or him, you had no idea.

The soldier lay motionless on the bed, his stoic demeanor betrayed only by the occasional twitch and curl of his lip with each precise poke of the needle. Your voice broke the heavy silence as you looked at him, "I'm sorry, soldier, I...I am, I promise...I don't meant to hurt you." The words tumbled out, a desperate attempt to convey that your actions were not born of malice, like every other action he had been used to dealing with. It pained you to think that he might perceive you as just another source of suffering in a world that seemed intent on causing him harm.

The fog of pain and confusion was thickly clouding his mind, but something about your demeanor resonated with the soldier.

A faint glimmer of recognition flickered in his eyes, as if some deep-seated instinct was trying to tell him that you were different from the others he had encountered. Yet, his thoughts remained fragmented, like scattered pieces of a puzzle he couldn't quite assemble. It was almost something instinctual, rather than logical, like his core was telling him different from his mind.

You were safe. You were a safe person.

He couldn't afford to trust the people here; that was a lesson hard-learned and deeply ingrained. The facility was a maze of deception, where even the smallest gesture of kindness could be a carefully orchestrated ploy.

They were manipulative in their methods, planting agents who acted nicer, their false warmth a siren song designed to lure him into a false sense of security. They waited patiently, hoping he'd lower his guard, crack under the pressure, or attempt any form of rebellion. And when he did, the whip came down, harder each time to break his trust.

But you...you were different. Your actions, your words, your very presence was completely different to the calculated manipulations he'd grown accustomed to. You weren't hurting him.

You were a fragile thread of hope.

That was...good.

His icy gaze seemed to be cataloging every minor detail of your appearance. The soldier's eyes traced the contours of your face, lingering on the hues of your eyes and the curve of your lips, noting with particular interest the way you furrowed your brow in concentration. His attention was drawn to the surprisingly dark, angry bruise that marred half of your face from the guard’s baton.

A soft sound escaped the soldier's lips, drawing your focus away from your task. Your gaze lifted to meet his, noticing the intensity in how he stared at your throbbing cheek. You weren’t sure why he looked so concerned, considering he had been so silent and emotionless the entire time but part of you hoped that maybe a bit of himself was actually coming to front.

"Oh... it's nothing to worry about, soldier," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you continued to tend to his wound, carefully cleaning it before preparing to apply the next stitch. “Doesn’t hurt that bad…”

The soldier appeared far from satisfied with your response. His body tensed, muscles coiling beneath his skin as he shifted slightly in his restraints. His metal arm tore free from the binding that held it in place. The unexpected action caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a cautious step backward, your heart rate quickening. You were unsure of his actions, and you’d much rather keep yourself out of reach in case he retaliated.

He remained motionless after freeing his arm. He made no attempt to rise or to reach out towards you.

The lack of reaction gave you some confidence, and you came back to his side. "Easy..." You spoke cautiously, his behavior had been docile so far, but he could flip on a dime.

He simply stared, his hand lifting to your face slowly, the plates in his arm realigning and whirring quietly. You gave a soft flinch when his fingertips grazed the bruise, the skin throbbing and raw from recent injuries.

The metal of his prosthetic hand felt surprisingly pleasant against your skin. It was cool against your skin, soothing the warmth of your flushed face. His touch was unexpectedly delicate for a prosthetic limb, each subtle shift of his fingers executed with a finesse that seemed almost impossible for an artificial limb. Your mind thought about the potential intricacies of the arm's design. The details of its construction and capabilities were closely guarded, known only to its creator and the select group of scientists who worked tirelessly to refine and maintain it.

The feather-light quality of his caress was so lifelike, so nuanced, you wondered if his nerves had been intertwined with wires. You remembered the science fair before you were brought to the camps, the magnificent tales of the future of science. Maybe HYDRA had somehow made flying cars.

It wouldn't surprise you.

Letting him lower his arm, you carefully finished stitching the gunshot wound and the deep laceration on his abdomen, your brow furrowed in concentration. You tried to ignore the faded scar on his side from your previous work on him, remembering that exact wound was it reminded you this stoic, hurt soldier was in fact your Bucky. Well, yours might be taking it far but…to you, he was.

The guards' refusal to allow the use of site-numbing medicine only added to your efforts to make things quicker, knowing it was hurting him. Their callous disregard left a bitter taste in your mouth. Heartless bastards.

With the stitching done, your hand moved gently to assess the area around the wound to ensure everything was ready for bandaging. As your fingers lightly grazed his side, you noticed the soldier flinching under your touch. His body tensing as he struggled to stifle a shudder that rippled through his chest. You observed as he swallowed hard, his neck muscles visibly straining as he fought to keep silent. The familiar response triggered a memory in your brain, though they hadn’t brainwashed you like most of their assets, some things faded over time.

Not this. You remembered the sensitivity in his side.

It seemed that some things remained constant, despite the circumstances.

"Ticklish?" you inquired softly, your lips curving into a gentle, reassuring smile. The soldier continued to maintain his stoic façade, but you could see the cracks in his armor. His eyes briefly met yours before quickly darting away, unable to hold your gaze for more than a fleeting moment.

Curious, you repeated the motion, your fingers ghosting over the same spot. This time, you caught the unmistakable twitch at the corner of his mouth, a smile threatening to break through his stern expression. The subtle huff of air from his nostrils and the sharp upward jerk of his chest confirmed your suspicion.

Yes, it definitely tickled.

"It's okay, Soldier," you reassured him, your voice warm and understanding. "I know it probably feels a bit strange, but don't worry, I'm almost finished. Then I’ll wrap you up."

The soldier responded with a curt nod, maintaining his silence.

After bandaging his severe injuries and applying dressings to the lacerations on his face, you leaned back to assess him one more time. Your eyes scanned over your handiwork, ensuring every wound was properly tended to. With a sense of accomplishment, you let out a breath, "Alright, there we go...all done." A look of satisfaction crossed your face as you offered him a reassuring smile, your demeanor calm to try to put him at ease.

However, the guards didn’t make it easy.

They removed him from his restraints, the fleeting sense of relief that had begun to wash over him was abruptly crushed as they mercilessly jabbed him with their batons. The soldier let out a pained hiss through clenched teeth, his body instinctively scrambling to escape the source of agony. His movements were uncoordinated and shaky as he stumbled off the table, somehow still having enough strength to stand. You felt a surge of protective instincts rush through your veins.

"What are you doing?!" Your voice cut through the tense atmosphere as you stayed by his side, "He needs to stay still for at least 24 hours to allow the stitches to begin the healing process!" Your eyes darted between the guards and the soldier, you had taken a lot from this place, but you knew he had it much worse than you did.

You could only imagine what they did when no one else was around.

The guards fixed you with a menacing glare, their faces contorted with disapproval at your unexpected display of compassion. The lead guard's voice was cold and threatening as he spoke, "Your sole responsibility here is to tend to injuries, not to coddle. You will stand aside immediately, or face severe consequences for your insubordinate behavior."

As he issued this ultimatum, he raised his baton, pointing it directly at you. The weapon sparked ominously to life, its head illuminated by a dance of blue and white electricity that crackled erratically between the prongs.

"Move! This is your final warning!" The guard's voice rose to a shout, the baton still poised threateningly in your direction. The fear of feeling the weapon's cruel bite didn’t deter you. You remained rooted to the spot, standing firm between the guards and the injured soldier. Your eyes darted briefly to the hunched figure behind you, noting how he clutched at his side, his face a mask of pain.

This was The Winter Soldier, a man whose reputation preceded him, yet seeing him in such a vulnerable state stirred something within you. Your heart ached at the sight, especially knowing that beneath the fearsome moniker was Bucky - not the faceless monster so often portrayed, but a man who had endured unimaginable suffering.

A deep breath was exhaled through your nose, and you squared your shoulders and met the guard's gaze unflinchingly. "No," you declared firmly, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I will not move. You can inflict whatever punishment you deem necessary on me later, but this man will remain on that bed for the next 24 hours. He needs time to recover, and I will make sure he gets it." Your words hung in the air, the tense room quiet besides the occasional sharp breaths of the soldier behind you.

The guards remained silent for several seconds, it might’ve been the longest few seconds in your life.

They exchanged glances with one another, their eyes darting from face to face, before finally settling on their superior. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Not wanting to prolong the situation or potentially escalate it into something more serious, the lead guard slowly lowered his baton. His shoulders slumped slightly as he let out a deep breath through his nose. You watched as they yielded so readily, your mind racing with anxiety and preparing for a potential false sense of security. However, you quickly pushed aside your surprise, knowing that dwelling on it now could be dangerous.

"Fine," the lead growled, his voice laced with barely contained frustration and a hint of defeat. He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he fixed you with a stern glare. "You will answer to the director when this little game of caretaker is over." The way he emphasized 'caretaker' dripped with sarcasm and disdain.

With a final scowl, he spun on his heel, his movements sharp and angry. The other guards fell in line behind him, their boots echoing off the walls as they filed out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering tension in the air.

You exhaled deeply, releasing a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding and turned your attention back to the soldier. Gently but firmly, you assisted him in returning to the bed, carefully laying him down as he writhed and let out pained hisses of discomfort. Your heart ached at the sight of his suffering.

"Shh, I know...I know it hurts. I can't even begin to imagine the pain you're feeling right now," you murmured softly, your voice taking on the same gentle, soothing tone you'd use when comforting scared soldiers on the battlefield. Your words were meant to ease his distress and provide a semblance of comfort.

It seemed to work.

His eyes were wide and filled with an innocence that seemed so out of place in this Hell, reminded you starkly of the way Bucky used to look. This supposed heartless soldier, the boogeyman of so many stories, wasn’t real. The person before you was Bucky, trapped within a persona that had been forced on him. Fresh from brainwashing, he might exhibit that emotionless soldier, one with no humanity or heart, but the persona was already beginning to crack, revealing the scared, confused, and utterly lost man underneath.

"It's okay," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you tried to reassure him. "You're going to lay here and rest now. That's all you need to do." Your words were simple but laden with compassion, an attempt to provide him with a clear, manageable directive in the midst of what must be overwhelming chaos in his mind. The soldier did well with orders, while you didn’t want to order him, you wanted him to be somewhat familiar with what was going on.

You hadn't spent time around him in this state before, and the unpredictability that others had warned you about lingered at the back of your mind. Your eyes never left his face, watching for any sign of comprehension or compliance, all the while steeling yourself for any sudden changes in his demeanor.

He obeyed, thank god.

You carefully positioned him on the worn, uncomfortable bed in the makeshift operating room, ensuring he was as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. Once he was settled, you dimmed the harsh overhead lights to create a more soothing environment conducive to rest. He was usually drugged, but like hell you were going to inject him with anything. A drugged sleep feels like a wink, and you wanted him to feel more rested, having the freedom of falling asleep on his own and all.

The unfamiliar surroundings clearly unsettled him, his eyes darting around nervously before finally settling on you as you bustled about, tidying up the room and preparing to leave. His mind was in a fog, thoughts jumbled and unclear, like static on an old television set. Only brief flashes of blurred memories began to shine through the static, albeit only for a split second. Regardless of his confusion, he felt an urge to prevent you from leaving, sitting up despite his weakened state.

"Ma...mama," he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper, cracked and hoarse, yet somehow managing to carry across the room to where you stood.

You halted abruptly, spinning around to face him as he struggled to leave the bed. "No, no, soldier, you need to lie back down," you urged, quickly returning to his side to gently guide him back onto the mattress. "Please, you must stay put. Any sudden movements could jostle your stitches." Your brow furrowed with concern as you observed his face, noting the strange mixture of bewilderment and childlike innocence in his expression. It was a disturbing contrast to the hardened soldier, and it tugged at your heartstrings.

It was like his brain couldn't even function or understand what was happening.

It had been fried too much. When he wasn't the Winter Soldier, he was just...a confused blend of it all.

His metal arm grabbed your wrist with an unyielding grip, causing you to wince at the unexpected force. He looked up at you, it was clear he hadn't meant to hurt you, but something deep within him refused to let go.

"Stay. Mama, stay." The soldier's voice was barely above a whisper, rough and pleading. His eyes lacked their signature sharp and alert glaze, now sported glossy neediness. You could tell the difference immediately.

The sterile room around you, with its clinical smell of antiseptic and tacky gauze, seemed to close in around him and give him an increased awareness of the room and its possibilities. He didn't want to be left alone in this unsettling environment, one where he had suffered enough. His cell, though barren and cold, had become a twisted area of sanctuary for him.

This room was not, even if he was in a warm bed with a blanket and pillow. How sickening it must be to see, actual comforting items were so foreign to the soldier, almost outright rejected because of the unfamiliarity.

The pleading look in his eyes began to consume you while his rough voice wavered with barely contained emotion. The thought of leaving him here, alone and exposed, was becoming increasingly unbearable. It wasn't just the isolation that concerned you, the underlying threat of potential nightly visits from the guards loomed ominously in your mind. His gentle, almost childlike request for you to stay, coupled with the threat of overwhelming fear in his demeanor, ate you alive.

"Okay," you whispered back gently, your trembling hand delicately gliding over his forehead and into his hair. You noticed how tangled and unkempt it was, frowning a bit. The least HYDRA could do is let him brush his own damned hair, if they were gonna make him keep it long.

While your fingers carefully worked through the knots, you were struck by how vulnerable he appeared in this moment. How he leaned into your hand so subtly, like a beaten dog being given its first gentle pet. His features had softened, revealing a glimpse of the man you remembered from before. He looked so...harmless.

It was hard to reconcile this image with the stories you'd heard, the warnings you'd been given about this deadly asset. In the quiet moment, he seemed incapable of hurting a fly. Your heart ached, recognizing fragments of the Bucky you knew and loved, hidden beneath layers this forsaken place buried him in.

Goddamn the universe for never being able to tell him.

"I'll stay."

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

No taglist for this series yet.

[yeyinde]

baby blues

John Price + the panic of fatherhood x reader

pregnancy. babies. soft. sappy. angsty. slight allusions to rough sex. John being possessive and smitten. allusions to childhood trauma. the fear of children is somehow more potent than the fear of god. girl dad John. mentions of Price's divorce lmao

Most assume he'd take to fatherhood like he'd been born for the role; handcrafted to cradle a swaddled babe in his arms. The perfect father figure. But as he hovers over your sleeping form, the little bundle nestled in the sleepy bracket of your arms, he's overcome with a sense of dread that punches hard enough to shatter bone.

The reality is this: Price doesn't understand kids. He wants them. Covets them with a viciousness that almost immediately sets alarm bells off in the heads of those who were opposed to the idea of children, parenthood. Giving birth. But when it comes to being a dad, a role model, an effigy to siphon wisdom and knowledge off of, he flounders. Hesitates.

All he has as an idea of fatherhood is bruises laughed off by the neighbours as him being a clumsy boy. A man who drank in the living room, silent in his fury, his belligerence, until something—anything, really—set him off. He always seemed like he was itching for a reason to punish.

And god, was he ever fucking good at it.

If anger issues are hereditary, then Price picked up the generational slack of his seething ancestors. 

It's this, and the plethora of scars and burns that decorate his skin (well hidden, tucked away like a dirty secret because if Old Man Price was anything, it certainly wasn't stupid; he knows how to hide the ugliness of himself away, and how to turn a boy into a punching bag without causing too much damage, too much alarm) that make him ache something fierce when he sees his chubby little child for the first time. 

Price doesn't know how to be gentle. All he has are worn, rough hands and a constant stench of smoke. A voice that makes grown men tremble. An ire unmatched thus far in his life. 

Until you. Little spitfire. His hellion. You stood on the tips of your toes just to tell him off for being a stubborn pig! and then taught him how to hold you. How to be tender. But even now, he can see the wear on your skin from his bites. His propensity for violence that he morphs into desire. Into lust. 

How is he supposed to be a dad when he's this caustic? This mean? 

The answer doesn't come. All he gets is the rhythmic sigh of your breath as you sleep, well and truly exhausted after giving birth to their child. All alone. A constant in your lives, it seems. Aloneness. His work takes him away, throws him into dangerous situations. And you carry the brunt of it. 

It caused the rupture of his first marriage and is a needling fear he carried with him when you started pursuing him some odd years ago. To think that he'd be standing here now, gazing down at you with your heavy eyes and your soft cheeks, rounded with the additional weight you gained during your early trimesters. A plushness he's trying to keep on you for good—all softened edges, flesh that gives when he touches you, marshmallows out between his fingers when he squeezes.

You look good like this. Motherhood, despite your misgivings (it took three years of him hinting and hounding you before you'd relented with a sure, what's the worst that could happen? We're terrible parents and raise a terrible kid? Or we end up the catalyst for a list of psychological issues and get reamed out during their therapy sessions later on in life?), suits you. Fits you like a glove.

A fact you'd been quietly overwhelmed by in the first few months, grieving the loss of something he couldn't ever understand, or experience. A piece of yourself morphing into the mother that raised you. A kaleidoscope of feelings that you choke on when he asks, unable to render them into coherent words. 

But you're good at that, aren't you? Good at culling expectations, at superseding the limits others place on you. Even him. 

Especially him. 

When he'd said, don't know what you're gettin’ yourself into, love, you took it to the chin like he challenged you to a brawl, and set out to show him why you knew what this was, what he was, and why it didn't matter much. 

Even now—

Giving birth all alone. Overcoming the isolation of being shackled to a man who married his post first. Sisterwife to his career. Second in all things. 

Even this. 

He was in Iceland when he got the call. Laswell, of all people, was on the other line telling him his own wife was in the delivery room. Water broke. Baby is on the way. 

And you—

Don't worry, old man. Just do what needs to be done and we'll be waiting. Always. 

—well. You certainly are. Alone in a hospital room with the curtains drawn to blot out the sun as you sleep, cradling this thing he made with his fingers shoved deep into your mouth, uttering foul under his breath as he crushed you to the bed, rutting you like an animal—the most tender he could ever be—and he's suddenly all too aware of his own inadequacies. His shortcomings. Failures. 

He's not a dad. He's not the sort of man people think about when they think healthy father figure. He likes cigars and whiskey, and sometimes aches for a mission that will let him cut his knuckles on teeth—bloodletting; exorcising his demons out on the people he's sanctioned to kill. How is he supposed to guide a child when he threw a man over a railing without a second thought—

The bundle stirs. Wrinkled, red face scrunching up tight. Little thing is just like you, huh? All softness and give. All—

They cry, and it's shrill. Loud. It jars him.

Not the sound, but the anguish he feels piercing through his chest as they bellow out their confusion to the world, this lost little thing. Strapped with a father who was beaten black and blue and told to be a man when he cried. 

But right now—anger is the furthest thing on his mind. He can't fathom that emotion when his child is whimpering in your arms, chubby little fingers grasping at the air. Seeking comfort. 

Waking you feels cruel when you've spent the better part of two days awake. Four, really. You couldn't sleep when the contractions hit, wide-eyed and worried about everything. What if something went wrong? If they hated you? What if you hurt them—

Worries he tried to assuage, but couldn't deny he felt them, too. 

All he knows how to do is hurt. But as he reaches down for this little thing squirming in your arms, he tells himself to be tender. To be the man his dad never was. 

And they're soft. So fuckin’ soft. Tiny, too. His hands dwarf them, engulfing them completely. He tries to blame the way he trembles on the denial of nicotine for so long, but the mist in his eyes, and the burn in his throat, call him a liar. He doesn't know what to do. Even with all the hours spent thumbing through manuals and books and scoffing under his breath at the parenting courses you dragged him to (but paid rigid attention to every word the heavily bangled woman said to him), he feels lost. Unsure. The ground is shaky. Control slips. And that's maybe the crux of it all—

Babies can't be controlled. And it's the loss of this, what makes him whole, keeps him steady, that has him feeling rubber-limbed and fawn-like. 

“Quiet, now,” he murmurs, and then winces at the rough drag of his voice in the silence of the room. Too firm, too forceful. All the gentleness he has in his bones was devoured by your greedy mouth when you cracked him open like the legs of a snow crab, marrow slurped up until he was hollow. Empty. His tenderness rests inside your belly. What else does he have to give—

But the warm bundle in his awkward, clumsy hold stops their shrill cries. A girl, he remembers you saying. Crying. Sobbing into the phone when he called, all ugly and gross. He heard you sniffle, snot undoubtedly dribbling from your nose as you wept to him about how fucking cute their baby was. Their little girl. 

She's soft. Smells of a newborn, too—something powdery. Sweet. Warmed milk, fresh bread. The clinical books that made you squeamish, the ones that outlined every anatomical and chemical change to your body, mentioned that newborns smelled distinct to each parent. A phenomenon meant to encourage protection and bonding. 

It made you shiver, muttering my little parasite under your breath, even as your hand curved possessively over your bulging belly. 

He knows that's what this is. Chemical. His mind is evolving, shifting. Changing. And it's then that he feels something hot thicken in his throat. Something ugly, and bitter. The scars on his knuckles, the cigarette burns on his fingers are a sharp reminder of what his father felt and ignored. 

He scoffs, then, irritated at himself. He's a grown man and still—

Still thinks of him. 

“Won't be like that,” he says, still rough. Still firm. She blinks up at him, eyes rheumy and wide. “Not with you.” 

Never. Never. He pins the word to his pericardium, letting it rot his tissue. He'd rather die, he thinks, than ever hurt this little girl. But despite that, he knows he will. Inevitably. Just like he does everything good—or bad—in his life. Leaching from the goodness of others, sucking them dry and letting them moulder. A disappointment everywhere except the battlefield where he screams himself hollow and rents the air with his ire. Incorrigible. Immovable. An object of cruelty. Unforgiving in all aspects. A curse that follows him home, into his marital bed when he pins you down, and makes you profess your love for the beast inside of him. Never satiated, never quelled, until you're shackled at his side. Tucked away from the world he knows is too cruel to people like you who end up a corpse he has to step over on his way for empty retribution. 

He thinks, too, about all the ways he's going to ruin this chubby little thing in his arms, and wishes, suddenly, he was a better man. 

“Gonna hate my fuckin' guts when you're sixteen, aren't you?” In response, this little thing just opens its red maw and blows bubbles. He huffs. “You're gonna be nothin’ but trouble, mm? Steal my car. Crash it because your mum's gonna teach you how to drive and she backed into the garage six times already. Gonna gang up on me. Both of you. Little nightmares.” 

He's not sure what else to say, and thinks, already, that he said too much. Bared his belly to her too soon. She'll have this memory, buried down in the deep recesses of her psyche of her father falling to pieces while he held her. An impossibility, he knows, but can't shake the feeling that this, in itself, is an epoch. A marker for what's to come. All the ugly, the hate. The screaming matches that make him curl his hand into fists as she levels his failures at him. Not to hit. Never to hit. But to stop the tremble that won't stop. That has already started. The shake in his joints that tell him to run before he hurts. Before he ruins this precious mass of his blood and your tissue in his arms. 

“Gonna—” he isn't crying. Isn't. But there's a thickness in his throat as he thinks about how quickly she'll grow up. Age marked in the crows feet that gather around your eyes. The laugh lines. “Gonna be a fuckin' menace, and I'll—” he chokes, then, when she reaches up with a pudgy, red fist and snags the strap of his vest he didn't even bother taking off before he fled here. Fat, tiny fingers curling into the spot he grabs to ground himself from lashing out. “Fuck.”

He'd burn the world for her, he knows. Sacrifice everyone and everything just to keep her warm. Both of you. It begins and ends with this little thing that has your eyes and his nose. 

But he doesn't know how to translate that into love. Into affection. 

It comes out caustic. Abrasive. Possessive. 

And he is. 

Now that he has her in his hands he knows that nothing else will ever compare. That they'll never be empty because she'll always fit in his palms no matter how big she gets. There's only ever been enough space in his heart for you. Chiselled into with a fuckin’ pickaxe because you wouldn't wait for it to grow on its own. 

But there's give, he realises. This domicile you carved yourself has a room attached. A place for her. And she fits like a glove. Sliding inside. Cocooned against his pulse. 

He loves her. Endlessly. Forever. She deserves better. More. 

But when he tells her this, she makes a noise and it sounds like a giggle. 

“Laughin’ at me already, mm?”

She giggles again, and he likes that her laugh is a little ugly. A little mean. 

“Scarin’ the wits outta me,” he confesses, shifting her weight as she occupies herself with the clasp of his vest, disinterested in the man that breaks into pieces around her now. “I don't know—fuck, I don't—”

You come to in a panic. It starts as a slow roll to the side before your eyes flash open, wide and furious even as sleep congeals in the corners, pawing at the empty spot where the lingering warmth of your child presses into your chest. Anger, fury, darkens over your brow, and the apoplectic rage that simmers in the gaps of your dread, your fostering panic, softens him. Makes him melt. The burn of your ire, your fear, liquifying his bones. 

He falls in love with you a little bit more at that moment. When the snarl rucks your upper lip up, up, teeth bared to the world as you whip your head around in frantic, desperate dismay, searching for the little girl he knows you, too, will burn the world for. 

“I've got her,” he says, whisper-soft and low. Cadence even, clear. Tries to quell the howl he can see hammering its fists against your throat before it rips from your lips and scorches the world around you in a hail of horrifying anguish. “She's safe.”

It says something when you immediately go still at the sound of his voice, muscles going lax, slack, as you slowly turn your head toward him, blinking against the fog clotting your vision. Something that cuts him to the core. Rents his chest in halves. One side for you, and the other for her. Nothing left to spare. 

This feeling brimming in his chest sweetens when you startle at the sight of him, them, lashes shuttering like an old camera as if you were trying to sear the image in your head forever. Branded on the back of your eyelids. (A sentiment he knows all too well considering the stream of photos added to his camera roll of you and her nuzzled together.)

“You—” your voice catches, breaks from sleep. Fatigue. You swallow, slowly licking your lips. “When did you get in?”

Your eyes are glued to them. Unblinking. Widened with pure affection, the intensity of which makes him want to touch you, hold you.

“A few hours ago,” he murmurs, glancing down at his—

It cuts a jagged line through his chest. Knicks his bone with how deep it goes. False starts pressed tight to his heart. 

—his daughter. Fuck’s sake. 

He's choked. Strangled. Rendered mute, immobilised. It guts him, this. Daughter. The ring of it echoes in his head, filling the recesses of his mind. Embedding itself within his head. Congealed over. Fixed in place. 

“I have a fuckin’ daughter,” he breathes at length, the air knocked from his lungs. He's not sure why this is what breaks him, but it does. And it's you, then, holding the fracturing pieces together, hands reaching out—in a startling mimicry of his daughter, and fuck, doesn't that just eviscerate him—and curling against the heaving brackets of his ribs, boxing him in. 

“John,” you say, but your voice wobbles. Wavers. When he peels his eyes away from the sleepy yawn she lets out long enough to look at you, there's tears flooding your lashline. Threatening to break. “Fuck,” you say, crass and beautiful, and he's overcome with the urge to tuck you into his other arm, keep you both cradled in his hands. “Don't make me cry or my stitches will tug.” 

“We've got a daughter,” he says again, just to hear it uttered aloud. We. Yours. His. It messes with him. Bludgeons into his core. “We've—”

“She's beautiful, isn't she?” 

Your words shatter him, but the pinch of your hands on his waist keeps him from buckling. 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice thick. Ugly. It's mangled in his throat. All fractured and raw. “Just like her mother.”

He shows his affection in the burn of his embrace. In the way he holds you tight, refusing to let go. Keeps his words callous and firm. Soft utterances, declarations of love, tucked away in the sure, greedy way he clings to you in his sleep. Yields to you like no one else. Lets you in. 

And he supposes he ought to say it more often if the way your face crinkles up just like his daughter when she cried, tears spilling over your rounded cheeks. 

“Don't,” you heave, ugly and brittle, and he thinks you're the prettiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. “Don't or I'll rip my stitches—”

He huffs. Nods only once, and then steps toward you. “Do you want—?”

“Keep her for a little while,” you mutter, leaning back into the bed, eyes lidded by fond. So in love with him, the picture they paint, it's almost sickening. “She likes you.”

He snorts. “She's only three hours old. Give her time.” 

You're quiet for a beat. Pensive. Mulling something over. It's never a good thing when you're silent, and the unease that grows in his belly is justified when you heave out a long, tired exhale through your nose. 

The way you look at him is raw. “You're not your father, John.” 

And isn't that just the worst lie he'd ever heard.

He scoffs, then. Shifts his weight, still cradling his daughter tight to his chest. “Mm, 'dunno about that.”

“I do.”

“Jus’—” leave it. Keep going. Keep feeding him lies as he stands here and pretends that he wasn't a horrible bastard for wanting this from you. From taking it. Strapping you with a man who's always, always, one foot out the door—

“No.” You say, soft and sure. “You're not him. I know you're not because you're still here.”

“So was he.” 

You don't acknowledge the interruption. Content, it seems, to rattle off lies and half-truths into the stifling air. Your eyes close, the curve of your lashes leonine. Breathtaking.

“Do you want me to take her?” You ask instead of the multitude of things he can see piling behind your eyes. Some of the ugly. Jagged glass. Others powder soft. 

He shakes his head. “You need your rest,” it's a half-truth. Fatigue clings to you still, swathed in the purpling of your skin. The slow, heavy blinks you take to try and fight the tug of an artificial sleep. 

But the real reason is this:

He's just not ready to let her go. 

Thinks, viciously, suddenly, that if he does, this moment built between them in budding, liquid blue will cease forever. Severed too soon. She'll carry the same resentment in her heart he feels for his own father, and he'll die in a shallow pit thinking about how badly he wanted just a second longer. 

Generational, right? Trickle down hatred. Ancestral rage. It's what your grandma talks about sometimes over tea and fried bread, half disbelieving you brought a white man into her home, and making a show, a facade, of wisdom even though he spotted the how to raise a child notebook she hastily shoved into the kitchen drawer when you arrived. Taking over in place of your own mother, stepping up. And yet—

She just doesn't get it, you said, rubbing your hands over your belly when she steps away after another long-winded conversation about traditions, spirits, and dead languages. Raising a child like yours in a world like this. She's just. I don't know. Ignore her. 

(He doesn't. But you don't have to know that.)

So. He clings to her a little tighter. Holds her a little firmer. Brings her close to his chest and hopes she can hear the echo of his heartbeat and know that this tired, old song is just for her. 

(The heart itself for you—)

And maybe—

Maybe he's not quite ready to see you be a mother. Some perverse part of him is already trembling at the promise of watching you nurture and feed her, the tantalising whisper is enough to make the air in his lungs turn humid, sticky. Tar, you remind him sometimes, having seen the ugly spatter of black in the grainy photos the doctor in Hereford likes to shove at him. Never too late to reverse the damage, John. 

Or maybe he wants you for himself just a moment longer. An hour. A day. When you're still you, shackled and bound to a man who reeks of stale tobacco, and started sneaking cigarettes in the dead of night like some pimply, awkward teenager when you first came to him, cheeks wet and eyes wild, and said:

“John, I'm—”

Pregnant. 

He did it, of course. Put that baby in you. Made it with his teeth buried into your throat and your hips canting up to meet him, taking everything he had to offer. Animal aggression. Nothing tender in the way he chewed you up, made you beg him for it. But still—

Wanting and having are worlds apart, aren't they? 

Faced with it, the consequences of his actions, he's at a standstill. 

You hum, and when your eyes slide open, he feels the mallet against his head. Cracked open. You fossick about until you find what you're looking for. Cheeky fuckin’ thing—

“Fine. Just pull up a chair before you keel over, old man.” 

“M’fine,” he grouses in that voice that serves as a dice roll between making you feel hot or homicidal depending on the mood he catches you in. Muttering something under your breath that sounds like a whispered plea for guidance (“tss, gimme strength.”)

But even with the waspish denial, he's inching closer to the spare chair left in the corner, looping his ankle around the leg to slide it closer. The squeal of rubber on aluminium makes him grimace, eyes darting down to his sleeping girl, nestled in his arms. Her brow pinches in the same way your grandma’s do when she's annoyed by the news. Her bingomates. The way he refuses her offering of burning tobacco and lemongrass whenever he goes away for a while, unable to really commit to this little, broken family that feels more like home than his own ever did. 

(“aint my place,” he says, and she scoffs. 

“fuck, s'matter wit’cha?” is her counter, the harsh line between her brows now perfectly superimposed on his daughter’s face. “tss. ain't yer place, eh. are you tryna piss me off? fuck, you make me mad—”)

He sees that spitting anger in you. Generational, he knows. The same inherited attitude his daughter will inevitably have. The one that singles him out as an outlier. Outnumbered. Three, now, to one—

There's got to be a reason why his chest bubbles, innervated by the thought of a Sunday dinner when she's old enough to watch her grandma make intricate bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and pins with thread and glass beads as you, her mother, cuss at the stove that doesn't burn as hot as it used to, flipping over golden dough in a sizzling pan. 

Orange juice in old cups your grandma kept since the nineties. Something soft playing on the radio. The peeling, waterlogged wallpaper flakes off the wall when you slam the pan down too hard. The way the spill of the sun through the rusting window rents the room in half. Pale yellow and oak. Little orange blossoms in soft pink above the speckled granite countertops. Everything awash in a gossamer of sleepy-eyed affection. 

Just like it is now. But—

He looks down at her, head full of lead. Cotton. 

Complete, maybe. 

“Don't know how to be a dad,” he confesses to you, and thinks of how much easier it is to slam a sledgehammer into a metal door than it is to peel back the veneer sometimes. “Don't want to mess up.” 

“You'll be fine.” 

The crinkle of the plastic mattress, the scratch of the sheets sliding across the bed is louder now than it was before. He cuts the gentle sounds with an abrading hum that clicks off his teeth. 

“Get some sleep,” he says again instead of the awful truth that buoys in his throat. Things like you don't know and I tricked you this whole time into thinking I'm a good man and look what you’ve let me do to you. “You need it.” 

Another noise. In his periphery, he watches you lean back against the upright pillows, lips parted on a soft sigh. He feels—

Small, then. An oxymoron considering he has to duck his head to get in and out of the room, towering over most he meets daily. But the inadequacies gut him. Vivisect him. He should be more comforting to you, he knows. This whole thing has been difficult. Tiresome. Cut into and having the life you grew inside of you cut out—

“Did good,” he rasps, still staring down at her even as he pulls the chair as close to your bed as he can get. “With her.” 

You snort. It's inelegant. Ugly. Brittle, like you're holding back tears. 

When he glances up, he finds that you are. “You're strong,” he adds, and knows he should have started with this first. “Doin’ this all on your own.” 

“I had help.”

It's awkward trying to adjust himself in the seat with his daughter perched in his arms, but he finds a way. Settled, then, with her still sleeping away, he lifts his hand from her back, keeping her cradled in his arm with the other, and reaches for you. 

The starchy sheets catch on the bramble of hair on his knuckles, the back of his hand, and the static jolts tickle against the rough scar tissue thickened over his knuckles, some still fresh, scabbed from the latest mission he'd been deployed to. You watch him, misty-eyed and tremulous, as he draws nearer, eyes flickering like a pendulum between the bundle nestled on the thick of his arm, to him, watching you back. Greedily taking in every spasm, every blink. 

Something inside of him cracks. Softens. He thinks, breathless, that you've never been as beautiful to him as you are right now. Bubbles of snot in your nose. Eyes reddened, dropping from exhaustion. A dizzying mess. The sort that speaks of tireless work, of physicality. Muted pain brimming in the backs of your eyes when you pull on your stitches. 

“Got a pretty wife,” he says, and it's not enough. He knows it isn't. Looks away before the fracture lilt to his tone breaks him in two. “And—” it's hard to say. He forces himself to. “And a beautiful daughter.” 

The tears stream down your face at this quiet, clumsy admission. 

“Don't—” you sniffle, hoarse. “Or I'll tear my stitches.”

“M’not doin' anythin’, love.” 

“Fuck you, John—”

He leans back in his chair with a hum, eyes slipping shut. A brief respite amid the panic still clinging tight to his ribcage. “Love you too.” 

It's quiet. Nothing but the soft drag of each breath his daughter takes, the tremulous sniffle you give as you try to dam the tears sliding down your cheeks. His heart hammering in his ears. He commits it all to memory. Glueing it to the fibrils of mind where it'll stay, embedded in tissue, for as long as he is of sound mind. 

Much like the grainy, black-and-white ultrasounds stuffed in his breast pocket. Tucked inside the drawer of his desk where he keeps the pictures of you. Keepsakes he's unnecessarily possessive over, elbowing the rowdier men who try to needle him for sparse information on the little wife he hides at home and the baby they'll never meet. Something just for him. Unshareable to the rest of the world because they don't deserve you. 

The feathered snores tell him you're finally asleep, and he thinks about resting for a moment as well—the bone-deep exhaustion he feels jetting from Iceland to home, to the hospital catches up to him with a vicious kick to temples—but the weight in his arm keeps him awake. Hyperviligent. 

There's this urge clawing at him, making ruins of his chest, and he answers its worried insistence by opening his eyes just a sliver to stare down at the little bundle in his arms only to find she's staring back at him. Eyes wide. Comically too big for her chubby face. 

She has your complexion, but his dark curls. Her eyes, though, are the perfect equilibrium between pools of sapphire, burnt blue, marbled with the dark gleam, that vibrant shade of yours that he's so fond of, the one that's often accompanied by a smart-ass remark. Seeing it gaze up at him with such incipient adoration knocks the air from his lungs. Has his heart shuddering in the brackets of his chest. 

It's love, he thinks first. Instantaneous. Apodictic. And then, cold, callous—

Chemical. 

Just to hurt himself, maybe. Just to let it cut deep. Scar. Because as he stares down at her, he knows it doesn't matter. No amount of hatred, of anger, will ever rip her away from him. His daughter. His family. His.

Like her mother. The root of it all. The catalyst. The start. 

Shackled to this gaping chasm that devours endlessly, never satiated. Always starving. 

Needy. Full of greed. 

Because even now he covets. Craves. Muses to himself about how he can convince you to have another the moment the opportunity arises and you're healed. Whole. Aching for it. 

He wasn't joking when he said he wanted a football team. 

But for now—

The soft sighs you make in your sleep, ones that almost sound like his name, and the comforting weight of his daughter in his arms are enough to make the beast inside purr. Preening under its own conquest, its own victory of successfully turning your body into a home he can rest his weary head on. Sacrosanct. 

He looks at her, then, and feels the dread ease into pride. Into elation. An emotion he knows should have come first, but it's here now, and that's all that really matters.

“Gonna be trouble,” he grouses, watching her pink mouth gape wide, blood-red maw grinning up at him in delirious glee only babies can imbue. Unhindered by the ruination of the world around them. Unfettered. 

Something he couldn't protect you from, but knows you're both on the same wavelength when it comes to her. At all costs, you'd said, hand against the burgeoning swell. And he kissed you until he couldn't feel his lips anymore. Until all he tasted, all he knew, was the taste of you.

“Of the best kind, though, mm?” 

In response, she coos. And he hews the sound into his chest where it sits beside the brand of when you first said, i love you, too, John. 

So, he relaxes. Whispers soft, conspiratorily. "Think you might need'a brother, mm? What'd you say about that?"

And she giggles.

[written-in-flowers]

Model Behavior: YunHwaGi x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Seonghwa x Yunho x Mingi x fem!Reader | side pairing: ot8 x fem!reader

Word Count: 10k

Genre: Smut, smut, and more smut with a sprinkle of fluff on top | AU: sugar baby, idolverse

Summary: The newest episode of YNteez features you, the boys and a photoshoot. With all the risque outfits they've selected themselves, just how wholesome is this shoot going to be?

Tags: polycule, polyamorous, established relationship, sugar baby, blowjobs, sloppy blowjobs, deep throat, face fucking, face sitting, 69-position, male masturbation, teasing, orgasm denial, edging, light role play, oral sex, sex toys, squirting, pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel), slight free use, nipple play, peeping through windows, and group sex (foursome).

Previously on YNteez

****

Eight costumes. Eight sets. Eight times you'll have to change your outfit, hair and makeup over the course of three days. The exhaustion already started weighing on you, and nothing started yet. Standing in your private dressing room, you gazed at the rack of clothes in front of you. The producers told you the members picked the costumes themselves, so naturally the outfits are tailored to their taste. You looked at each of them while you waited on hair and makeup, and saw the different costumes the staff managed to procure. They certainly did not look cheap. You’d expected clearance rack outfits with flimsy fabric and lots of velcro and zippers. The current costume you held, an Animal Crossing character, was made of good material, your proper size, and could pass off as a real cosplay outfit. You put the costume on the rack, and turned to the large mirror behind you. 

You’d come to the set in a simple t-shirt and jeans, since you’d be changing three different times today. The stylists recommended you come as plain faced as possible, since any makeup you wore will be removed. The prospect of a photoshoot excited and worried you. The last time someone took photos of you, it’d been for your Companion portfolio. A photographer took a bunch of boudoir pictures with a few headshots thrown in to attract potential clients. You didn’t mind dressing down for a camera, since the outfits and makeup helped you hide behind them, but the photographer won’t be the only one present. A staff of at least twenty people will be filming, monitoring, adjusting, lighting, and observing your every move. The classroom episode was through hidden cameras, so there’d been only you and the boys. Now, there’d be people, which was different.

“There you are,” a voice said when the door opened. Seonghwa came walking into your dressing room, pecking your lips and looking over your face. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“The producers and stylists told me to wait here for them to show up with the cameras,” you replied. They mentioned interview moments during the episode to capture your thoughts and emotions. “Does it always take this long?”

He laughed, “Yeah, it does. It’s even worse for whoever is last in line to get their makeup and hair done. But, our stylists are fantastic, and I think you’ll love what they do with your looks. Minsu already showed me the look they’ll be giving you for my shoot.”

“What?” you said, disappointed. “Why did they show you and not me? It’s going on my face.”

“It’s supposed to be a secret, remember?” he said. He looked over to the clothing rack, then back at you with suspicion in his eyes, “Have you been looking in the clothing bags?”

“No,” you said innocently. “I would never spoil a surprise.”

“Mhm,” he remained unconvinced. He took a seat on a makeup chair next to yours, “I think I should stay here and, you know, supervise you. We don’t want you spoiling everything for yourself.”

You pouted, taking the seat in front of the vanity, “What about you? Don’t you have to get ready too?”

“I’m third in line,” he said. “They’re still working on Yunho.” He stared at you for a moment, then said, “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit,” you admitted. “I haven’t had my picture taken in a long time, and these aren’t like ‘normal’ photos either.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Oh come on. Me in skimpy outfits you guys personally picked out? On sets of your design and you control what sort of pictures we take? They’re not going to be exactly PG are they?”

“No, not at all,” he said with a laugh. “What I picked is pretty wholesome and simple,” he then smiled, “But I know a few members whose outfits are way more revealing than mine.”

“Like who?” you asked, wanting to suck a spoiler out of him. 

“Nope,” he shook his head, amused by your eagerness, “Not telling you. You’ll have to wait and see.”

“You won’t give me a little hint? A tiny one?” 

“You already know mine, since you looked in the clothing bag,” he accused with a grin. 

“I did not,” you lied. “I haven’t even touched those bags.”

“Liar,” he nudged your foot with his, “That zipper was all the way up when I left here. Now it’s like an inch or two down.”

“Is not. You’re remembering it wrong.”

Your insistence made him chuckle. “At least your shoot is going to be the course of three days,” he said, “Our shoots usually run all day.”

“Three of you today, three tomorrow, and the two after that,” you said, “I wonder why they did it that way?” you looked at him expectantly. 

“Have no idea,” he shrugged, pretending you didn’t notice him. 

“Not one?”

“Nope.”

You moved over to him, and took a seat in his lap. “Could it possibly be because certain members of this relationship won’t be able to contain themselves and might get a bit naughty with me?” you rested against him, fingers dancing on the collar of his shirt. “They might not be able to control themselves,” You heard him audibly inhale as you drew closer, “And let their natural instincts take over?”

“Maybe,” he put his hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze before bringing his lips an inch from yours, “But can you blame them? You know exactly what to do to tempt them, and you do it well.”

“I've had a lot of practice.”

The both of you kissed right as someone else entered the room. The stylists came in with their bags full of supplies, and the producer followed with a camera crew. Your hands suddenly felt clammy, and you wiped them on your jeans. Seonghwa noticed this and squeezed you again, but more affectionately than before. His reassuring grin relaxed you somewhat, yet seeing everyone setting up for the episode distracted you again. 

“Seonghwa,” the producer called to him, “We’re going to start filming now. The stylists next door wanted me to tell you they’re ready for you.”

“Alright,” he nodded. He pecked your cheek, then said, “See you out there.”

“See you.”

You’d know the KQ film production team for a long time, so they felt more like friends than colleagues. The clothing stylist, Juwon, came right over to you. Slender and narrow, Juwon never failed to make you drop-dead gorgeous with his outfit designs. He hugged and kissed both your cheeks when he spoke:

“Ready for today?”

“As ready as I can be, honestly,” you said. 

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, “Minsu and I are going to make you look absolutely divine. Those boys will be regretting their choices when they see you. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

He took the bag with Seonghwa’s name tag on it, and opened it up. Inside, you saw the green plaid vest, white shirt, and a mini skirt. 

“Who is it?” you asked him, hoping he’d answer you. 

“It’s this character in that game he likes,” he answered you. “I have the lingerie that goes with it too.”

Behind the costume was the white mesh and lace lingerie set they’d sent you a month ago. The mesh parts went over your breasts, sex, and ass, but were bordered by lace designed strings. The matching stockings and garter belts were no doubt Seonghwa’s idea. Right away, you took the bag and went behind a curtain to change. You’ll have to do this two more times. How did models do it every day? You pulled on the lingerie, the belts, the stockings, and the costume itself. The outfit was snug on your skin, and you noticed the shirt and vest revealed way more cleavage than the original character. The skirt also goes high up your thighs so that any bending of your thighs or legs will lift it up further. Yes, very wholesome indeed. 

Seonghwa always liked leaving something to the imagination. 

“You look so cute!” Juwon cheered when he saw you. “Give us a twirl…Yes, excellent. It fits you perfectly, and isn’t too showy. Seonghwa said he wanted it to be sexy, but not so much that it ruined the illusion of the character.”

“He would say that,” you agreed. “He’s never liked me in lingerie that shows too much of my body. Mostly babydoll dresses or open front ones are good enough for him.”

“Ugh, you’re going to knock him dead,” Juwon awed, unable to look away from you. “That photobook is going to be priceless.”

Yes, you’d forgotten the photobook idea. You’d suggested it during a YNTEEZ meeting. Since they’re going to be doing it anyways, you thought about perhaps using the photos to make a photobook. Atinys can purchase them online and get special bonus gifts. You did give a small spoiler on your personal Instagram account where you’d promoted the group’s newest album; you mentioned their photobook and soon having one of your own, which intrigued a lot of people. 

“Yeah, I forgot the photobook. I hope people like the pictures though,” you said, knowing not everyone will be thrilled for you to be in the photos. They wanted shirtless Seonghwa, not a half-nude YN. 

“Oh come on, not all of them hate you,” the director assured you. “They’ll be into it.” 

You went over to Minsu next, who turned your chair around and pumped it to the right height. She smiled when your eyes met hers in the mirror. 

“You’re going to look fabulous today,” was her catchphrase whenever she worked on your face and hair. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” you responded with a deep breath. “When was the last time I got this glammed up? KCon?”

“I think it was Global Dream Awards,” she answered, putting her makeup essentials on the counter, “When you wore that gorgeous purple gown. Ugh, I was so jealous of you. It looked amazing.”

“But it’s been a while since then,” you said, eyeing the materials on her counter. You then noticed an assistant taking out wig boxes from a container they’d wheeled into the room. “And plus there’s going to be loads of people in the room with us.”

“So?”

“One of the biggest points of these types of shows is the sex, and knowing my boys, it’s going to get steamy,” you felt knots already forming in your stomach. “I don’t think I can do that with so many people watching.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she said, “You know that. Plus, you’ll have your boyfriends there, so you’ll be comfortable the entire time. You’ll get so wrapped up in each other, you won’t even notice the rest of us there.”

“I hope so.” 

“You’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Besides, today is only Seonghwa, Yunho, and Mingi. The sweeties,” she added a smile. 

“They're all sweeties.”

“Sweeties with a horny streak,” said Juwon from the clothing rack, searching for shoes in a box. 

Minsu then turned around to face you, moisturizer in hand. “Okay, let’s get you ready for your modeling debut.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. She began prepping your face for makeup when the producer got the camera ready to film. Your nerves shivered inside you once you realized it was on by the red light in the camera. 

“YN, are you excited about today’s shoot?” he asked first. 

“I’m excited, but also a bit nervous. It’s been a while since I modeled for anyone before…”

His questions remained fairly innocuous. He asked you about your modeling experiences, which were very few and far in between, and if you’d made any guesses as to what the members have planned. You told him you guessed it’ll have to do with concepts they like or things they enjoy. Since the members will be part of the shoot, they will wear costumes similar to yours. 

When Minsu finished with your base makeup, she took out a face-paint palette and dipped a brush into the black section. Looking in the mirror, you noticed her covering the tip of your nose; then she dipped it into the white to start painting around your nose and mouth. 

Isabelle. You’re Isabelle from Animal Crossing, Seonghwa’s favorite comfort game. You only knew who she was because Seonghwa told you when you saw him playing. Your eldest boyfriend knew it so well, he could perfectly mimic their funny little language. When Minsu finished your makeup, she put your hair into a bald cap to prepare you for the wig. Short and blond, the bangs hung above at your eyebrows, and the rest of the hair fanned outwards in the back. Minsu attached a fake hair bun to the very top, tied there with a red ribbon with bells on it. You giggled as you moved your head, the little bells clinking in the process. They then attached yellow dog ears that drooped from the sides of your head. You trusted Minsu’s abilities enough that you knew they wouldn’t fall off. 

“Ah, you look so cute!” Minsu beamed. 

“Adorable!” Juwon agreed with a grin. “He’s going to love it.”

“It’s exactly as I pictured it in my head.”

“Thanks,” you grinned shyly. 

You hoped Seonghwa liked it most of all. You’d hate it if you went out there and the outfit isn’t what he envisioned for you. The camera then looked at you again. 

“How do you feel about this concept?” the producer asked you. 

“It’s very Seonghwa,” you laughed, admiring yourself in the mirror. “I knew he’d pick something he liked, but I’d guessed Star Wars since he likes that a lot. This is much cuter though.”

“Do you play Animal Crossing too?”

“Not that much,” you said. “I played it for a while when it first came out, but then I fell out of it. Seonghwa always tells me to play with him so we can visit each other’s islands,” you chuckled remembering the times he’d asked you so cutely to play with him, “And send gifts and stuff. I’m not as into it as he is, though.”

He turned when someone came into the dressing room to tell him they finished the members’ introduction to the episode. Funny. It’s your show, but they’re doing the intro. This didn’t bother you that much, and you followed them out onto the set. Minsu and Juwon kept you back from the rest of the group, putting you behind a curtain. Ahead of you, you saw staff members wheeling in a small stage. On it, you saw the familiar villager house from the game, a red triangle roof, cream colored walls and a red door. They’d done quite a good job with the set. It came with a bed of fake flowers, a mailbox, an apple tree beside the house, and the house was big enough for you to fit inside of. You spotted Seonghwa standing nearby while they finished putting things together. 

He'd never looked cuter. Seonghwa stood wearing an aqua and white floral shirt with khaki shorts with his nose painted and wearing pointed ears. You guessed he must be Tom Nook, a racoon character in the game. He looked sweet and adorable in his costume, but you know that can turn sexual at the flip of a coin.  

“Alright, YN, come on out,” the director called to you. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened when you walked onto the set. They scanned you from top to bottom, and you smiled sweetly at him. He stood in awe of you, turning to the camera crew in disbelief, before looking back at you. You gave him a wide smile and said:

“Aw, you're the little bear guy!” 

Seonghwa held back a smile, “He's not a bear. He's a raccoon.”

“But isn't there already a raccoon? Raccoons are black and white, right?” 

“There is, but Tom is a brown one.”

“Eh, I still think he's a bear.” You hugged him around the middle, and he still embraced you, laughing with you. “A big bear with a cute nose.”

“He's a raccoon,” he squeezed you until you let out a small whine, then released you. He gave you a once over, then said, “You look so cute. It’s exactly how I imagined.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You glanced at the set, “Shall we go be the bear and the puppy?”

“He is a raccoon!” 

You giggled as you stepped onto the small set, and turned to the photographer nearby, “Hi, I'm YN.”

“I'm Nami, nice to meet you,” the photographer said, wearing a plain shirt and jeans. 

“Nice to meet you,” you replied. “Where do the bear and I start?-”

“-Tom is a raccoon!-”

“-We can start with some poses,” Nami laughed, “And we can do a few scene photos.”

“Okay, sounds good! What do you think, Tom?”

Seonghwa held back his laugh through a strained smile, hands on his hips, “That's fine.” 

Nami directed you both into the middle of the stage and the shoot began. It started with simple couple shots with lots of smiles, giggles and playful poses. You didn't know much about modeling, but years of doing promotional shoots made Seonghwa a natural. 

“Just be cute,” he said in one picture, where you both stood facing one another and pretending to rub your noses together. “Do cute faces and stuff like that, and you'll be fine.”

“Should I talk like they do too?” You teased when Nami finished taking photos of it. “How does it go? Meemeemoopmoop?”

“It does not sound like that at all,” he chortled. 

“Then how does it sound?” you giggled seeing his shy expression, and him turning away to the tiny house nearby. “Come on, do it,” you urged him, pouting and tugging his sleeve. “It’s cute when you do it.”

He let out a small stream of high-pitched squeaks that had you grinning widely. When he stopped due to his own laughter, he handed you a net. Small fake butterflies were stuck to the insides as if being caught, while his fishing pole had a multi-colored fish hanging from the hook. Nami directed him to take a seat on a bench by the house while you swish the net in the air pretending to catch butterflies. 

Having researched pin-up girl poses the previous night, you lifted one leg to your knee to show off the garter belts in Seonghwa’s direction. You could feel his eyes on you every time that skirt lifted up your thighs. Since you first met him, you knew Seonghwa preferred the more subtle suggestiveness. Flashes of cleavage or thighs grabbed his attention immediately, and he liked the baby doll dresses and bodysuit lingerie pieces you wore. Something skimpy, but not too showy. While you pretended to catch butterflies in various ways, Seonghwa sat there observing quietly. 

“Let’s have you both garden,” Nami said next after snapping close up and wide shots of the scene. “Just do whatever comes natural.”

You knelt beside a bed of fake colorful flowers, and Seonghwa took the space in front of you. He was standing with a pail and a small hand rake, while you pretended to be digging holes in the earth. This left you kneeling at his feet, looking up at him innocently while he stood over you. You kept your cleavage in full view for him, pulling and pushing down on the flowers in front of you. Nami’s camera clicked numerous times in a row as she captured the suggestive moment. Seeing him above you, his groin right above your head, you had the urge to grope him. He wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the innuendos going on at this shoot. You knew he picked this up when he knelt behind you, and bent down to your ear. 

“You must be getting pretty warm in that vest,” he said, hand going up your side to your chest. “Maybe you should take it off so you’re more comfortable?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you asked, pretending as if you brushed into him by accident. 

“I’m only thinking about you,” he insisted, fingers getting closer to the buttons of your vest. “It’s supposed to be a sunny day on an island. Gardening can be hard work and Isabelle might get warm wearing a little vest like this one.”

“But Isabelle is so innocent and sweet,” you said, putting his hand closer to your breast. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nami stood a few feet away, taking photos of this intimate moment. “I don’t think she’d just shed off her clothes like that.”

“She would if she had a bit of help. Kneel up for me.”

You dropped the hand rake, and pressed your back to his chest. His lips left small kisses on your neck as he unbuttoned the vest. The moment he pulled it off you, you turned to Nami. 

“Is this good or do you want us to do something else?”

“The apple tree,” she said, picking up on what you were really asking. “YN, you can be getting some apples from high up, and Seonghwa can be giving you a little boost.”

“Makes sense for his bear character-” you said, forcing yourself to leave Seonghwa’s arms for the fake apple tree nearby. 

“-He’s a raccoon!-”

“-He looks like the kind of guy that would make his islanders do all the work while he just sits there in his little shop taking their money,” you continued, grabbing a wicker basket of fake red apples. “The little charlatan,” you gruffed. 

This made the crew laugh with you and Seonghwa. “How’s he a ‘charlatan’?”

He stood holding the small ladder, his face closer to your lower back. “First off, you pay to go on this big island getaway, which in the name implies you’re going for a short time and not the rest of your life-”

“-It’s meant to be an experience-”

“-An experience in what it feels like to be hoodwinked!” another statement that made everyone laugh. “He never tells you what exactly is going to happen on the island until you arrive,” you said, reaching up into the branches and letting Nami take a few shots. 

“He shows you a video of island life!” Seonghwa reasoned. 

“On the plane ride! When you have no choice to turn back or not.”

“Guys, it’s a video game,” chuckled Nami. “It’s not supposed to make sense.”

“She only does this to tease me,” Seonghwa said, pinching your ass lightly. “Little brat…”

“You know I’m right,” you arched your back so your bottom sat closer to his face, “Anyway, the video makes you think all that stuff is already available on the island, but when you get there, you only see a bunch of empty houses and a campsite. I know I’d feel duped if it was me.” You then whispered to one of the cameras, “I think the bear is a cult leader.”

“He’s not a cult leader, stop it,” Seonghwa smacked your ass over the skirt, which only made you laugh more. 

“Seonghwa doesn’t play when it comes to AC,” you joked with the crew, and earned yourself another smack. 

You suddenly gasped when Seonghwa cupped both your buttocks for a gentle squeeze through your underwear. Cold hands and warm lips briefly pushed out any more taunts you’d have about Seonghwa’s game. But, you wouldn’t let him win. You pretended to reach for one of the lower hanging apples, which gave him the opportunity to feel underneath briefly. You gave another fake gasp, though it brought more warmth to your underwear. 

“Then, he makes YOU build his island and make it cool,” you said, “And if you want to upgrade your island, you gotta pay him construction fees and stuff. Like, dude, it is supposed to be a getaway, not a construction job!” You dropped the apple into your basket. “That’s my hard earned money, so I don’t think I should be paying the guy who dropped me on a deserted island. I mean, what happens if I don’t make enough money to upgrade my shabby tent or house because I got tricked into staying there, hm?”

“I’m sure Tom would take other forms of payment too,” said Seonghwa, placing kisses on your lower back while he kneaded your cheeks. Your sex stirred when he started feeling underneath your pantyline, “Any kind you can think of.” 

You let out a fake gasp, “So that’s his plan! Trick innocent, pure souls onto his island, takes all their money which causes them to have to do favors to get what they need. Disgusting bear.” 

“That’s not why he’s doing it, and he’s a raccoon,” Seonghwa’s laugh was muffled by your shirt. “He wants to give you a nice experience,” he slid both sides of your underwear between your cheeks, “He is a good businessman who wants to build a nice island.”

“Where he can start his own weird, depraved sex cult,” you said, despite the warmth between your thighs. You knew Nami continued taking photos of Seonghwa groping and kissing your backside. You pretended to be shy, hand over your mouth and shock in your eyes. “Psh, jerk. Taking advantage of people looking to get away from their stressful, boring lives.” 

“Speaking of tiny island homes,” interrupted Nami, “I think we should get some shots of you inside the house, YN.”

“And what does Seonghwa do?” you asked her, climbing down back into Seonghwa’s arms. You felt him yearning to touch and kiss you again, but fiercely restraining himself. 

“Tom is going to be…safeguarding her house,” she suggested with a knowing smile. 

You knew immediately what that meant, and walked into the house with the basket. The roof sat about a foot above your head, made of wood with cut out flowers in a box at the window. It was very well made. You opened the door to find nothing inside except a bedroom backdrop against the opposite wall. The window itself was wide and tall enough that Nami’s camera captured your top half at the right angle. You looked over Seonghwa standing outside the window, and couldn’t help noticing the slight bulge in his pants. 

“Safeguarding her house, huh?” you asked, eyes on your boyfriend. 

“Tom cares about the safety of his islanders,” said Seonghwa, leaning against the window. “You are an assistant to the Island Representative, and it’s important you’re safe from bugs on the island.��� 

“Oh, of course,” you said sarcastically, “I’m sure it has nothing to do with him being a greedy, corporate pervert.” 

You started unbuttoning the few buttons left on your shirt, pretending as if Seonghwa wasn’t there. Soft clicks of the camera told you that Nami was capturing every second frame by frame as you undressed. You let the shirt slide off you bit by bit until you tossed it aside, your bra fully exposed now. Seonghwa stared down at your chest, acting as if he was hiding behind a curtain outside your window. No doubt the real scene is Tom Nook spying on an unsuspecting Isabelle. You then pulled your bra straps down your shoulders, and tugged the bra down enough to reveal the tops of your breasts. Seonghwa bit his bottom lip as you gently massaged your chest in front of him; the lace fabric brushed on your nipples, which only made them harder. 

Since Atinys over nineteen can purchase a NSFW version of the photobook, Seonghwa was free to unzip his shorts. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him slide his hand into his pants. His soft groan told you he’d grabbed hold of himself and started stroking. The image of his long, thick shaft in his hand made you bite the inside of your lower lip. You kept massaging your breasts over your bra for him, not glancing his way. When you pulled your bra down to right against your nipples, both of them just barely visible, Seonghwa groaned. You thought of his cock already throbbing and leaking in his hand, and wished you could suck him dry. 

The scene continued until you wore nothing but the lingerie set. Seonghwa was already pumping himself faster, his back arching and eyes half-open and gazing at you, turning into an erotic sight. He finally came when you removed your bra and played with your nipples. You couldn’t help the deep, throbbing inside your panties. It begged you to go over to him, tug down his shorts and let him fuck you through the window. You listened to Seonghwa groaning, then huffing as his orgasm subsided and he slumped against the window frame. Nami asked for a few shots of him having a post-orgasm, which required him to tug down his shorts to show his wet cock. 

“Hwa…” you whimpered. God, you needed him right then. Simply doing it yourself wouldn’t work, not with his big cock so close by and needing to be cleaned with your tongue. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked, smirking as he stroked his softening length to make it glisten. “Are you horny too?” He laughed when you nodded, pleading with him. When Nami had enough shots, you expected him to bring you closer, but he didn’t. “I think we can wait until later, no?”

“But Seonghwa,” you pouted, finally pushing yourself as close as your little window allowed, “I’m so wet.” You reached for his hand and he pulled away. 

“You’ve been quite bratty today,” he smiled wickedly, smugness in his eyes. “I don’t think you deserve it right now. Plus, you have two more sets to do too. I don’t think it’s fair to keep Juwan and Minsu waiting on you.”

A punishment for dissing his favorite game. You huffed, pulling up your bra, “It’s not as if Yunho or Mingi will say no to me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he planted a quick kiss on your lips, and moved to walk away, “Have fun, angel. See you soon.” 

His response left dread in your stomach. You pulled on a robe Nami gave you, then went back to the dressing room as per the director’s instructions. 

****

Yunho’s set was a small bedroom of green and black. A full bed sat beside a wide computer desk with a two monitor setup, and a comfortable computer chair. Valorant and other various game posters were plastered on the walls, as well as figurines sitting around the computer. You quite liked it.  Being the biggest gamer of the group, you weren’t surprised by the oversized Valorant t-shirt and tight, green briefs that Juwon presented you with in the dressing room. Yunho dressed casually, in a long shirt and shorts with socks, but you still liked the plain, simple look. You couldn’t help staring at his long, lean figure from afar. 

“Look at you,” he smiled, seeing your hair up in a bun with cat-ear headphones around your neck. “Aren’t you cute?”

“You think so?” 

You walked into his arms, hands on his shoulders as he pecked your lips. Your arousal from the previous shoot died down significantly, but it didn’t go away. Seonghwa likely told Yunho about his photoshoot, and the two will conspire together to make it worse. If anything, he’ll convince Mingi to join him in the torture. You considered the three men to be your angels, your “white swans”. They’re usually the most gentle and sweetest when it comes to sex, and even more so outside of the bedroom. Not that the other five couldn’t be sweet, but their harder sides tended to come out in bed, while your white swans remained gentle throughout. Though, they can be equally mean. 

“Very cute,” he said, his large hands resting on your hips. “I like this simple style on you. You look so cozy and cute,” he nuzzled your nose softly. He then said in a whisper, “And there’s less for me to take off you.”

“Yuyu,” you laughed, cheeks burning. That was his special talent: making a simple phrase dirty. “Let’s get the shoot done.” 

Nami directed you both towards the desk, and it went how you expected it to go. You sat on Yunho’s lap, both of you given controllers to act as a gamer couple. When you realized the game on the screen was a Youtube video and the controllers weren’t connected, you let out a soft giggle. Yunho looked over at you quizzically. 

“What’s so funny, huh?” he poked your stomach, which made you laugh more. 

“This reminds me of that porno we watched the other night,” you said. 

You didn’t watch porn videos with your boyfriends often, but when you did, it was mainly Yunho with a toy nearby. The other night after dancing and drinking, you’d put on one you thought he might like. It featured three women “playing” a video game before the boyfriend of one of them appeared, and started fondling and teasing them. Yunho didn’t mind it until he noticed one minor detail. 

“The controllers weren’t on,” Yunho blurted out incredulously, and you laughed again. “They’re there moving the sticks and pressing buttons but the controllers weren’t even turned on.”

“Baby, considering it was an adult film, I don’t think it matters,” you replied. 

“They could have made an effort, is what I’m saying,” he defended. “The game was going on in the video even after they stopped playing.”

“Only you would make a fuss about that,” you chuckled, kissing him softly. “So, you’re telling me that if you ever fuck me during a game, you want me to be actually playing instead of pretending?”

“It’d be hot,” he shrugged, smirking at the suggestion. 

“Hm, good to know.”

You straddled his lap with your back to him, and put the headphones on your ears. Nami took this cue to start taking photos again. Yunho brought you to his chest, his head on your shoulder as he also matched your pose. You shifted around on his lap every so often to feel his cock through your shorts. The sensation of his bulge growing against your ass brought back all the arousal from before. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you, you know,” you said in his ear, kissing the spot underneath it. “I’m surprised we haven’t done it yet.”

“Done what?” he asked, but he knew what you meant. 

“Give you a blowjob while you were gaming,” you answered, grinding onto his lap until he let out a low growl. “But you’re always so focused, I doubt you’d notice I’m there.”

“Trust me,” he said, “I’d notice if I had your pretty lips wrapped around my dick. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the game.” 

“But you’re such a pro at it that you’d win anyways,” you smiled. “I bet you can do it with your eyes closed,” you whirled your hips around, “While you’re fucking my throat until you cum.” 

“Seonghwa left you very horny, didn’t he?” he chuckled. 

“And you do too,” you added, almost forgetting the camera clicking beside you. Reluctantly, you stood up from Yunho’s lap to see his bulge starting to poke a tent in his pants. “Clearly, I have the same effect on you” 

“Always,” he admitted. 

Walking over to the bed, you both laid against the pillows. Yunho took up a Nintendo Switch that you recognized to be his, and started playing a real game on it. A bit of realism, you supposed. You also realized he gave you the exact opportunity you just described. 

“You can’t ride me,” Yunho said, pressing the ‘start’ button. Mario Kart. The man’s playing Mario Kart in the middle of a photoshoot with you nearly naked beside him. “You can only use your mouth or hands.”

“But what about-”

“-Mouth or hands, YN,” he glanced at you to repeat the order, then went back to choosing his character. “Should I play Mario or Bowser? Bowser has a cooler car though…”

You lifted his shirt as high as his position allowed, showing the camera Yunho’s stomach. While he did work out, he didn’t have the sculpted abdomen of San or Mingi. Sliding your hand further up, you rubbed your thumb over one of his nipples, which you knew excited him just as much. 

“I like Peach the most,” you said, pinching his nipple softly and knowing what it’s doing to him. 

“That’s just because you like her car and she’s a princess,” he gave a snort as the game started. 

“I think she’s a relatable character,” you lied, lifting his shirt to kiss at his sternum. Straddling his thighs, you started playing with both nipples while kissing up and down his stomach. “She’s a young lady with a lot of responsibilities who is constantly sought after by various men in power.”

“You have a very strange take on video games,” Yunho laughed, “Like with Valorant.”

“I don’t get it,” you grunted, going further down his body to his shorts. Cupping the outline of his cock, you realized he didn’t wear boxers underneath. The heat radiated against your hand, and you felt it grow harder under your touch. “Is it there a storyline of some kind?” 

“Not really,” he answered, the sound of the buttons being the only sound between you. “You make matches with different characters and gain XP to get more.” He glanced at you for a brief second, “You’d hate it.”

“I like games with a story,” you shrugged. You slowly felt up his thighs with soft kisses and squeezes, the muscles flexing when you hit a sensitive spot. The thought of his length inches away made your mouth water. You started rocking your hips for any form of friction, your clit pulsating much like the cock so close to you. “It gives me an objective,” you lowered your voice as you hovered over his groin, “Something to focus on and work through.” 

Only one layer separates you and his dick. No doubt he’d done this strategically after Seonghwa told him about the Animal Crossing shoot. You traced your hand over the outline poking through the thin fabric, his stomach tensing when you felt his tip. His length growing, you grabbed it through his shorts once it started rising. Yunho clearly had trouble concentrating as you stroked him to a full erection with his own clothes; he bit his lip when you kissed back up his stomach to his sternum. Teasing your boyfriend dragged out your own arousal, which made you grind into the flat mattress underneath. Your entrance clenched for something to grab onto, but fluttered when nothing came. Simply toying with Yunho while he ignored you for a game had your clit throbbing for his attention. You sat up and removed the shirt to reveal a dark green bra underneath. Everything inside you screamed to reach for his hand after you took off the bra, but he needed them to hold his console. Instead, you laid back on top of him and made sure his clothed hardon nestled between your thighs. 

“I don’t get the appeal of it though,” you said, sliding his shirt further up to take a nipple in your mouth. The soft flesh hardened once more and you heard Yunho intake a breath sharply. “You’re just shooting other people. It gets boring,” You made sure he felt your own nipples dragging up his stomach as you took the other nipple in your mouth. If only you had clamps to put on them; Yunho enjoyed that more than the others. “Can’t be that hard.”

He chuckled through a moan, shifting when you nipped at one with your teeth. “It is,” he replied. “You have to concentrate a lot, and be good at aiming. It’s not the game’s fault you suck at aiming.”

“I suck a lot of things,” you said, swirling your tongue around a nipple, “But aiming isn’t one of them.”

Were there not a whole staff of people and a photographer nearby, Yunho would’ve put the switch aside and rolled you onto your back. 

“I beat you in every match when you’ve attempted to play,” he said, playing another round of Mario Kart. 

“Because you have more experience than me,” you pouted, starting to kiss back down his body once more. Yunho paused the game to remove his shirt, since his cheeks and neck started to flush. Atinys would love this just as much as you. “So, it’s not fair.”

“Maybe when we get home, I can teach you how to play properly,” he suggested, “Since your approach to video games is ‘figure it out as I play’. Tutorials be damned.”

“Tutorials take the fun out of it,” you giggled. 

Yunho moaned once you pulled off his shorts, and took his cock in your hand. You realized he’d stopped playing, watching you as you started licking up his shaft to his tip. A part of you knew that this photobook is really for Atinys who’d want to see the members naked, so your naked body won’t be the focus of the photos. Even then, you saw Nami hovering to take photos of Yunho’s lust filled eyes and parted lips. You knew you’d love these photos as much as the fans. Stroking him lightly, you went back up his body to the base of his neck. Yunho’s long neck always looked pretty with hickies against the peachy skin. You sucked on the tender flesh as he started grinding into your hand. He clawed at the sheets underneath you both, eager to touch you but forcing himself to stay still. Good.

“Don’t you want to touch me, Yuyu?” you whined, “I love it when you touch me with those big hands of yours.” You kissed up his neck to his ear, giving it a soft nibble before saying, “When you grab my breasts while you’re pounding me into your bed…When you finger me…When you slide them into my mouth like this…” you took one hand and put two long digits in your mouth, humming softly. 

“Tease,” he chuckled through gritted teeth, removing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. “You know I do. But, I think I’m pretty okay with you touching me.” 

You went back down to his crotch where his cock started bumping against his lower stomach. Giving it a long, flat lick from bottom to top, you brought the reddening tip into your mouth. His dick throbbing on your tongue, pre-cum starting to slowly leak out, you imagined his tongue languidly rolling around your clit. Moving your hand in time with your mouth, giving soft squeezes right to the tip to make him groan, you thought of his mouth latched to your pussy. Lips would be wrapped around your clit as he suckled it gently, every groan vibrating against your clitoris. You pictured his hands grasping your buttocks, squeezing and spanking them lightly as his tongue lashes at your sex. When you felt yourself grinding against the mattress, you started riding the sensation as you pushed him to the back of your throat. Your moans rumbled in your throat, cut off and gagged by his thick tip. 

"Fuck, baby," Yunho moaned, hands sliding into your hair just to touch a part of you, "Fuck, yes, just like that." His encouragement made you let out a pitiful moan. When he looked down to see you humping the bed, he chuckled. "I bet you're absolutely aching down there, huh?" 

“Mmm-hmm,” you gave a muffled reply that you made sure he felt. 

“Let me see.”

You knelt up from your position and pulled down both shorts and panties. Yunho’s eyes, half-open and driven by lust, zeroed in between your thighs. He reached down to the pool of wetness nestled in your folds, spreading it around your lips and clit as you squirmed in place. Shifting positions so his head rested at the side of the bed, you knew this new position gave Nami a glimpse of your aching center inches from Yunho’s mouth. Gentle hands smoothed up and down your back as you continued sucking him again. 

“I can’t stand to see my kitten like this,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh. “I hate leaving you wanting more.”

“Yunho, please…” you whimpered, knowing better than to rest your hips right on his face even if you wanted to. 

You clutched his thigh the moment you felt his tongue on you. In this angle, Atinys will see Yunho’s expert mouth skills while also seeing his tongue glistening from spit and your juices. You were still aware enough to pull off him, jerk his wet cock a few times for the light and camera to capture it. Yunho kept his licking light and teasing, but that was enough to drive you wild. After a few more licks, you started shuddering and quaking on top of him. Sensing your orgasm approaching, Yunho pulled your lips apart and focused directly on your clit. Sparks of sensitivity joined the tightness threatening to explode any moment. After a few deep grunts and groans, Yunho forced himself deep into your throat as thick, hot cum shot from the tip. Taking it slow, you breathed through your nose to avoid suffocation and quickly swallowed the oozing substance. You made sure to eventually pull away for shots of cum leaking from the head and in between the slit to his shaft. Yunho always came a lot when you had sex. Mostly because he didn’t pursue you as much as other members, preferring to save sex for special moments instead. Not that you minded. You swallowed every drop regardless of how much it was. 

Yet, he pulled you off once he finished. The phantom sensation of his tongue lingered, but quickly disappeared. A frustrated whine escaped you once again. “Yuyu!” you pouted, shaking on the bed to try tempting him, “I didn’t finish.”

“I didn’t say you would,” he breathed, smirking at your desperation. He leaned over to you, kissing you deeply, “Don’t worry. Mingi’s next,” he muttered to you, giving you the shirt to throw on over your naked body, “And he never refuses,you anything.” 

“How do you know?” 

“He’s been watching this whole time,” he shifted his eyes to the corner where you’d entered through. In the darkness, you could almost make out a shape hiding behind the curtain. Seeing a glimpse of an arm, you guessed it might be him. “And I know he’s rock hard by now.”  

“I would imagine so,” you replied, spreading your legs slightly in his direction. “Is it slutty of me to say that I can’t wait for it?” 

The figure shifted around when you said it within earshot. 

“Very slutty,” Yunho answered, kissing your cheek, “But we like that.” 

“What’s his theme?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“A hint then?”

“Nope. Now, get back to the dressing room,” he said, nuzzling your neck until you giggled. “Before I get tempted and start teasing you again. Mingi’s waiting.” 

The both of you laughed, but you still forced yourself off the bed and out of his embrace. Anyone else might feel embarrassed by what just happened, but you only worried about the taste still in your mouth. Nothing a lemonade cup doesn’t fix. 

***

You smiled widely at the pastel pink crop top and white shorts waiting in the dressing room. Juwon said Mingi chose a pastel kawaii appearance for you, since he always likes your ‘cute’ outfits. Juwon dressed you in the outfit, complete with white tennis shoes and rainbow knee-high socks while Minsu added heavy blush on your cheeks and faded lip gloss. She made your eyes appear larger, made your nose smaller, adding freckles shaped like stars and a little heart jewel to your makeup. Hair clipped back, they added pink and purple with Pusheen hair clips. 

It was utterly and sickeningly adorable. You never felt cuter, and the set amplified your appearance somehow. Walls painted bright yellow, the fluffy carpet matched the purple and yellow bed dotted with strawberries and strawberry milk cartons. Several squishmallow plushies covered the headboard, and you didn’t stop yourself from diving into them. 

“Can I keep these?!” you asked, hugging a birthday-themed Pusheen plushie, “Ah, I want them all.”

“We’ll see,” said the director. 

You already started deciding which ones you’d be stuffing in your duffle bag when you noticed something tucked underneath the stuffed toys. Pulling it out, you saw it was a basic porn magazine. A half-naked woman knelt in front of white backdrop, giving you a seductive expression. You flipped through it to see more naked women in various poses, and wondered what it could be for until you saw the rabbit vibrator sitting underneath a boba-tea shaped plush toy. You laughed, turning on the pink and translucent toy to feel it vibrate in your hand. Mingi will want to use it, and that makes you hornier. 

“I’m guessing you like it then?” Nami asked, approaching the stage. 

“I do,” you grinned, picking up a Pusheen sushi plush, “I knew Mingi’s would be something cute. He always says he likes my ‘cute side’.” Yes, you’re taking sushi Pusheen. 

“He was very descriptive in what he wanted,” she told you. “He even picked out the plushies on the bed. He said he wanted it to be ‘realistic’ to your tastes.”

“Does that include the toy and porn mag?” The two of you laughed. 

You wondered how long this innocence will last before his boner takes over. “Do you consider Mingi a cute person?” asked a producer. 

“Very,” you smiled, nodding as you held a Hello-Kitty angel plush. “I know on stage he’s all sexy and intimidating, doing all his hip thrusts and expressions, but in real life, he’s an angel. He always cares about others, sometimes more than himself, and he’s so loving.” It brought on a bout of sadness, knowing the internal struggles Mingi feels on occasion. The time he’d taken a hiatus for his mental health scared you the most, since you’d seen it bring him to his lowest point. It made your heart ache. “Ever since I met him, he’s told me he wants to be someone I can lean on when I’m sad. He heard from other idols that Companions can have it rough because of their idols’ schedules or that they have to manage multiple members, and he worried about me. So, yes, he’s a very sweet person.” 

Though, you didn’t mention that your sweetheart had a dirty side. Yes, he could be submissive at times, but not always. Seeing your outfit and the set, Mingi wanted to corrupt his cute kitten. The thought alone made your clit pulse again. When Mingi came out, you weren’t surprised. In a sleeveless black shirt, baggy black pants, with several chains and rings, Mingi dressed up as the bad boy to your innocent character. Seeing his muscled arms and sides made you shudder; the sight of his rings had your thighs clenching. He came right over to you, unable to focus on anything but you on the bed.

“You look so pretty,” he said between kisses, “Much prettier than I thought.”

“Thanks,” you beamed, giving a sweet smile. “Why this?”

“Because,” he kissed you again, sitting down and bringing you into his arms, “Ever since that classroom shoot I haven’t stopped thinking about you like this.” He cupped your chin, looking over your blush and freckles, “A sweet, innocent girl who's secretly a total slut.” You shuddered when he kissed your neck, starting at the top by your ear and going down, “Who watches porn and plays with herself all the time.” 

“And you’ll be the tough guy who catches me?” You guessed, knowing it was a fantasy of his.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Who else would I be, hm?”

“I think we should get started now,” said Nami, setting up her camera again. “Mingi, you could go by the door and pretend you’re peeking in her room. YN, you can pull out the mag and just do what comes natural to you.”

Your arousal reigniting, you didn’t hesitate to open the magazine to a random page and spread your legs apart. Nami got full shots of the scene, capturing Mingi poking his head in the door to watch you. You grabbed the vibrator to slide up and down your clothed sex, only just feeling the head cast over your slit over and over. You whined at the tight sensations coming back to you. The woman in the photo was in a bathtub, rose petals clinging to her wet, soapy skin, as she delicately touched herself. It reminded you of the times Mingi caught you in a bathtub or a shower. You learned quickly he liked the “catching-you-in-the-act” scenario, and you sometimes did it just to tease him.

Nami then instructed Mingi to open the door and look at you in shock, and you did the same thing. A few shots later, Mingi is on the side of the bed and holding the toy. The magazine opened to a new page beside you, neither of you paid attention to it as he slid off the shorts to reveal your soaked panties. Pure white, the cotton fabric did nothing to hide your wetness and Mingi licked his lips.

“Naughty,” he said, kissing from your chest to your neck, “Did Seonghwa and Yunho get you that worked up?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, savoring the feeling of his lips on your skin. You looked down to see him lazily slide the toy up and down between your legs. “God, I wanna cum so badly.”

“I know, baby,” he stopped the teasing to lift your shirt over your breasts, “And we’ll get there soon. Don’t worry.”

You kept an innocent face as he pulled down your bra to reveal your tits. Nami took shots of him sucking the hard nubs; Mingi made sure she saw his tongue flicking and swirling around them after every suckle. You couldn’t stop yourself from wriggling underneath him. Everything leading up to the point inflated the balloon waiting to burst inside you. Their touches. Their kisses. It all sent you spiraling, and you didn’t care about the crew watching nearby. You didn’t care if this turned into softcore porn for Atinys to enjoy. You only cared about Mingi using his lips and his toy on you before fucking you himself. 

“Mingi,” you cried, “Put it in me, please.” 

“Soon,” he promised, “You’ll get it soon. Here…”

He turned on the vibrator and pressed it to one of your nipples. The tip tickled the supple skin and sent sparks through the center. He gently swished it over each one until you were writhing on the bed. You thought you might finish right there before he suddenly stopped. He chuckled at your pathetic mewling, then removed his shirt. His body, well defined, was mouthwatering. Reaching forward, you brought him close to kiss him deeply. It gave you an excuse to feel his soft muscles and smooth skin.

“Stroke me,” he murmured as he unzipped his pants.

He didn’t need to say it twice. He knelt beside you so you could easily withdraw him from his boxers. Already rock hard, it sprung out once you pulled them down and you instantly took hold of him. A low groan escaped him as you began lightly stroking him. Atinys said they loved his size, and so did you. After stroking him for a short while, envisioning it buried hilt-deep inside, you blinked up at him innocently.

“Oppa,” you said innocently, “Can I put it in my mouth like in class? I really like doing it now, and Mr. Jeong says I’ve gotten better.”

“Yes,” he breathed, eyes full of lust and focused on you. “Go ahead.”

Slowly, you slipped his tip into your mouth. Nami took photos of his euphoric expression, catching closeups of your lips around his length and his muscles tensing from the pleasure. You’d almost forgotten her and the crew in the heat of the moment. Something in you wanted to be more impressive than usual. Sliding him further into your mouth, you stayed flushed to him to keep his cock near your throat. Mingi groaned deeply at this, unable to stop his hips from pushing forward. The toy in his hand went back to your pussy, the distance only putting the tip against you. He only broke away from you to pull down your panties, exposing your dripping sex to the camera. Once he was back, you continued working him with both your hand and mouth. Twisting your hand in every stroke drove him crazy, and he rapidly rubbed the toy over your pussy so you moaned around him.

“Just like that,” he huffed, “Just like in class. You’re doing such a good job.”

“I’ve been practicing,” you said, playing along as you licked his dripping tip.

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled, tapping it on your tongue before pushing back inside. “With the other guys?” You nodded, and he grinned. “Slutty girl,” he forced himself deep in your throat to gag you, “We’ve got you well trained, don’t we?”

“Yes,” you coughed, “I can’t stop touching myself now.” You slobbered over his tip, making sure the clicking camera caught it, “It’s all I think about. All I want is your cocks deep inside me,” you gave a whimper before putting him back in.

“I’ll remember that for our next class,” he said, putting the toy on your stomach, “So you can show everyone what you’ve learned. Like how you use toys. Put this in there for me, and show me how you use it.”

You didn’t hesitate to grab the rabbit toy and push the tip inside. Moaning around his width, you slid the vibrating toy in and out of your tightness. The light buzzing joined your muffled moans; the rabbit ears continuously pressed to your aching clit while the curved tip pushed on your g-spot. Mingi muttered occasional encouragement and praise as you let your pleasure fully take over. At one point, you held it inside, causing your legs to lift and quake from the sensations overpowering you. It moved to the pulsing of your walls, and you nearly came hands-free.

“No, no, no,” Mingi said, removing the toy and smiling when you whined, “You don’t get to cum before me. This is all for me,” he rubbed your throbbing clit with his hand, rapidly moving it side to side, “This is meant to pleasure me, not you.”

“Mingi!”

“Keep sucking my dick,” he ordered, shoving himself back inside, “And fucking your pussy.”

A bit more forceful this time, you relished in the change as you obeyed his command. The both of you watched the other come undone. The sweetness Mingi was known for shed entirely, turning into a hard dom who’d edge you as long as he liked. You still hadn’t gotten the complete hang of it, even after a few practice sessions with Hongjoong. You knew once that orgasm approached, you’d chase it down. With Mingi fully fucking your mouth, it was only a matter of time. The buzzing on your cunt and his length penetrating your throat, you started shaking and moaning louder.

“Stop,” he said, reaching around to take the toy from you. You kicked your feet and cried, though this was muffled by the dick in your mouth. “I don’t care,” he replied, hearing your protest, “I haven’t finished yet. Make me cum and I’ll think about letting you finish.”

You did what you knew he liked: working the tip with your tongue. Each time he slid in or out, you made sure your tongue grazed the wrinkled underside of the head. It had been when he leaned forward for a different angle that the bed dipped on either side of you.

“Look how pretty our little dongsaeng is,” cooed Seonghwa, pushing stray hairs from your temples. “She takes it so well, doesn’t she?”

“Every time,” Yunho answered, grabbing the rabbit toy. He turned it back on and put it close to your clit. “I give her private lessons, and she’s always so good for me.”

“I should join,” he replied. “I could use the practice and you know she loves more than one.”

“Fuck, I’m so close,” Mingi panted, not showing you any mercy as he choked you with his cock in different intervals. “I’m so close. Keep sucking me like that, just like that.”

He kept your cries muffled as Yunho pushed the toy back inside you. Moving tortuously slow, you shook and twitched to the teasing sensation. Even at this speed, you felt yourself close to your orgasm.

“Make him cum, YN-ssi,” Yunho said, “Make him cum in your throat like you do with me. I know how much you love it.” He gradually picked up the pace, “Our sweet YN loves cum.”

You did and you hated that they knew that. Soon, Mingi gripped the headboard tightly as he hunched over. Muscles tight and hard in their constriction, he shuddered as he came. Thick, hot and slightly tangy, Mingi’s cum filled your mouth and throat. You swallowed what you could manage before he withdrew, strings of it coming out with him. Nami grabbed photos of those when the other two moved away to give her space.

When Mingi finally dismounted, the other two converged on you. Seonghwa licked and sucked on your breasts while Yunho kept your legs wide open for the toy.

“Go on, baby,” Seonghwa groaned, “You can cum now. You’ve been such a good slut; you deserve it.”

“Yo-you promise?”

“We promise,” Yunho said, not holding back with the toy, “We want to see you cum for us. You look so pretty when you do.”

Streams of curses escaped you as your orgasm finally hit. All the pressure inside you came out in small uncontrollable spurts. Their constant praises and light touches only helped you along. You thought it might go on forever, and you wanted it to, chasing it down by pushing into the toy. The vibrating ears suddenly spiked your sensitive clit, making you close your legs before Yunho forced them back open. He didn’t stop despite the little sparks radiating inside. 

“Aw, look at the little mess you made,” Seonghwa grinned, nuzzling your cheek. “You’re leaking all over.”

“Someone should clean that up,” said Yunho, who didn’t hesitate to start licking the trails leaking out of you. Nami took the opportunity to get a few quick shots.

You let out soft cries as Mingi and Yunho took turns lapping and sucking up your juices. As Seonghwa gently soothed you, a part of you wished the crew would leave you with them. They’d gotten their pictures and shots. They could go now.

“How about we continue this at home, hm?” Seonghwa suggested as he kissed your cheek. “You’re more comfortable there and we’d be alone.”

“Please,” you said, finally taking in the people there. You didn’t think you’d feel this way afterwards. Heat filling your cheeks, you sort of hid in his shoulder which made the three men laugh softly.

“Now is when you’re shy?” he teased, kissing your temple. “Come on. We’re done here.”

They properly cleaned you with warm, damp towels given to them by the staff, giving you more praise and kisses as they went. Juwon brought over a robe and comfortable clothes for you. This felt different from the previous episode, since then there’d been no staff watching you together. It almost killed the bliss currently coming over you. Even if they weren’t, you imagined some seeing you differently now that they’d seen what you’re like in bed. A part of you wondered, as you got into the van an hour later, if you’d end up regretting this decision. It hit you that people would be seeing most of the photos, and watching the episode. You liked to think the staff would make it tasteful and not so graphic, since they’d done that with the classroom episode. But, the point of Companion shows was the sex; it was the main focus that drew people 19 and over in.

“Come here,” Yunho brought you into his arms once you arrived home, kissing your neck and lifting your shirt.

Clothes ended up on the floor leading to his bedroom, where the three of them cornered you on the bed. Soon, the four of you were whimpering, moaning and groaning as you tangled in each other. You couldn’t get enough of each man. You rarely felt so desperate for their touches before. By the time it was over, you became a pile of sweaty, panting puddles on Yunho’s bed. Curling up close to him, his arm around your waist and nose buried in your hair, you slowly fell asleep. 

You couldn’t think of a better place to be. 

****

Y/N: heeeeey been a while since I did one of these! God, can anyone stop these folks from getting it on?? No, and nobody wants to either! I hope you guys liked this one, and reblog/like <3

[elssero]

/ BITE ME

-elssero kinktober

✟ vampire!reader x sub!prohero dynamite, dom!reader, fem! reader, monsterfucking, bloodsucking, cumming untouched (kinda), overstimulation, public, m!masterbation. porn WITH plot. sorry it’s a lot of plot. (you attack him, slight violence) (apologies for any typos!)

pro hero dynamite- often described as a strong willed, stubborn, determined and valiant man- a role model to many. but most importantly- he’s incredibly overconfident.

he could guess that’s how he found himself in his currently situation. on a solo mission deep inside dark woods that he’s unfamiliar with- a mission that he was warned over and over again should have been a team up.

but he’s dynamite? the number two ranked hero? a symbol of power and strength. he doesn’t need backup or help on trivial missions like this. it should be easy, in theory- at least for him.

the brief he was given for this particular mission has minimal information- with each victim seeming to not completely remember the events of the night they were attacked, memories coming back to them in fragmented pieces.

the case involves a series of attacks that take place in a small, rural town. rich with folklore and community, on the surface- the location seems perfect. having a low crime rate and filled with life.

from what each victim can remember, the attacks seems to begin the same. the statistics of the assaulted immediately draw the hero’s attention- young people, ranged in their early twenties with eighty percent being men.

now normally, in cases like these that describe who seems to be a serial attacker, the victims, most of the time are women. and although it is not impossible, it it very rare that most of the victims are men.

this in itself interests dynamite. he feels stupid, and incredibly sexist for thinking it- but he can’t help but enjoy the challenge of taking down a villain who appears to be targeting men around his age group.

seemingly- each attack begins somewhat innocently. the setting of a bar or the local park being the beginning of the story.

the victims describe being approached by an entity that seems to take the form of a beautiful women. with eyes so enchanting they struggled to look away, a smile so captivating they couldn’t say no.

their lured- seduced into a forest, the same one he’s in now. they describe following the women as she leads them deeper into the trees, under the impression that she had a home- or at least a place for them to stay inside the woods.

as they move further and further into the forest, a piercing feeling of unease fills their stomach. an indication that something isn’t right, but when the women turns around and gives them a sly smile they can’t help but continue to follow her.

a shift happens almost immediately- the entity they were previously trailing behind seems to disappear in front of them, moving faster than able to understand by the human eye.

it happens in an instant, a cold breeze catches the victim, before their able to process the change she appears directly in front of them, pulling said victim towards her with inhumane strength.

if they’re able to see her- for even a second they would take note of her eyes, once captivating now glowing a deep shape of red- she approaches almost invisibly, illuminated only slightly by the glimmer of the moonlight. sharp fangs extrude from her mouth for only a second before a piercing cold slices their neck.

victims describe feeling something they can only describe as being drained, their life force being taken from them before they blackout- waking up the next morning on the outskirts of the forest, alone.

as far as the local authorities are aware, no one had died from these encounters, just severe pains and blackouts lasting upwards of a week.

what intrigues dynamite the most about this case is the way the victims describe their attacker- as someone beautiful, enchanting, even going as far to describe her as having ethereal beauty, somewhat otherworldly.

he can’t help but be interested, wanting for himself to see the mythical appearance of the entity who continues to terrorise this town. the assumption the commission have came too is that it must be a downside of a quirk. a quirk that forces the inhabited town feed on the blood of others in order to stay alive.

the cold of the night is beginning to affect bakugo as he wanders aimlessly through the darkened woods, the air is cool and thick with the scent of nature. his senses are heightened as his vision adjusts to the dim light. it makes every silhouette of the trees, every breeze of a branch appear more mysterious.

every step on the soft and damp earth feels purposeful, amplified by the surrounding silence. the deeper he ventures, the more disoriented he feels. the trees feel like their closing in, wait? has he seen that log before?

that’s when he hears it, a louder, heavier rustling of leaves, branches snapping under what sounds to be a prominent weight unlike any of the forest creatures he had encountered during his journey.

the hair on the back of his neck stands sharply as he whips his head towards the sound- not fast enough when he hears it again on the other side of him. he’s being surrounded, circled.

the forest seems to breath with him as he takes faster, heavier breaths, fighting the fear he feels inside the vast, dark woods, filled with whispers.

seemingly in a flash he feels a hand reach his back- his reflexes allowing him to turn towards to figure before he’s tackled, his back hitting the ground his a thud, closing his eyes quickly as he winces in pain.

the feeling of the hand on his back and the weight of the creatures legs beginning to straddle him make it clear he hasn’t been attacked by an animal, certainly not.

upon opening his eyes, he is met with a sight he hadn’t fully prepared for. you. illuminated only by beams of starlight that struggle to penetrate the dense canopy of trees surrounding you.

he can see you though, the glow of your red eyes captivate him, he knows he has the right person. you look down on him, hair drapes along your figure, looking up at you now, he feels as through the previous descriptions of your sightings don’t even do your intense beauty justice.

your mouth is agape, breathing almost animalistic, before you move your face down into his neck, taking a long, drawn out breath. when you move back to look at him his breath hitches, a smile evident on your face.

“your not from here, are you?” the smile on your face makes him feel uneasy, unable to move even if he tried due to your intense grip on him, he can’t speak.

instead you nod, taking his silence as an answer, thankfully. “cute costume.. what are you? some sort of hero?” the mocking in your voice agitates him.

he groans as he attempts to move- you only increase the grip you have on him in return. “oh come on hero- your really trying to run away so quickly? the fun part hasn’t even begun”

the vice you have on his waist with your legs only tightens, digging your knees into the ground to capture him properly. this isn’t the way this was supposed to go- you had him trapped before he even laid eyes on you.

helpless- a feeling dynamite does not enjoy, but with every struggle against your grip it becomes clear you aren’t letting him go anytime soon.

a pit in his stomach begins to grow- you won’t kill him, it doesn’t seem to be your style but he can’t help the fear- and the desire that pools inside.

it was foolish of him to wander into unknown territory- he knows that now as he watchesyou take in the scent of him- his eyes go wide when he feels your breath on his neck once again.

a giggle escapes your lips, thighs tightening around his waist, an increased pressure building in his pants, he feels pathetic.

rushing to force something out of mouth he attempts to speak to you- “w-wait!”- it comes out a little more breathy than he’d like.

“huh- so you do talk.” you don’t appear to be taking him seriously- instead aiming to mock- make fun of his resist.

“w-what are you?” it seems like the right question to ask- even if he can’t turn you in, maybe he could get more information to give to the commission. even if the story is ultimately too embarrassing to bear. “oh? me? are you sure your in any sort of position to be asking questions right now?”

he lowers in his head in response “you have put me in a good mood.. it’s a little difficult to explain-” he doesn’t fully understand what you mean, opting to stay quiet and allow you to continue “you might not believe me, but i guess you don’t need too- i’m a vampire.”

his mouth forms an o in shock- and confusion? his brows furrow slightly, unable to determine if your being serious or not “w-what?- like in the stories?”

“hmm yes i suppose so-” you don’t seem to be paying any mind to his confusion- instead moving your fingers delicacy along his chest.

“so w-what you just, feed on people?” he watched the movements of your fingers- as they rise and fall with every breath he takes-

“i have too” you seem amused by his questioning- he wonders if you’ve ever had to explain yourself before, you look down at his face now, noticing his red dusted cheeks “however it appears that you don’t seem to mind huh hero?”

he feels uneasy, the tone of your mockery going straight to his stomach, his pants tightening “you wanna give me your name hero?”

“d-dynamite-” you shake your head at that, clearing unimpressed by his answer “what about your real name?”

he takes a second to think about his answer- not finding any positive reasons to lie he continues “bakugo- katsuki bakugo.”

you analyse him for a second- trying to work out if he’s feeling the truth, you take his flushed expression as honestly “katsuki huh- that’s pretty cute- and there’s so much of you too-”

you move your attention away from his face, moving your hands around his frame, a hand coming up to grip his throat “how do you feel about letting me you drain you?”

his breath hitches- his stomach begins to flutter at the thought- his hips rutting up slightly as he imagines it “you wanna let me suck your blood? hm?”

his answer is immediate- it comes of desperate, worried if he takes too long to reply you’d leave him here- alone “o-okay- fuck.”

he feels your breath on his neck again, this time even closer, your nose inches away from his nape as you bury your face into him.

with a vice-like grip the feeling of your fangs  immobilises him, the sharp cold bite pierces the soft flesh of his skin and a flood of warmth spills into your mouth- “taste even better than i’d imagined-“

it comes out deep and gritty- matched with the groan that leaves his throat, you both seem to be enjoying this- “s-shit”

unable to control himself- his hips beginning rutting up against your own- the bulge in his pants feeling to heavy to ignore, moaning at the feeling of you against his neck, getting impossibly more hard when he attempts to move his hands but is stopped by your grip.

totally under your control- unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, the feeling begins to pool in his stomach even quicker- embarrassingly quickly.

sooner than he’d like- he’s bucking up with an increasing fast pace, you don’t make any move to help him- instead entirely focused on the blood seeping from his neck.

in a sudden move he’s cumming- dampening the inside of his suit with his seed as he continues to rut upwards- unable to contain his moans of pleasure.

this seems to grab your attention- moving your head away from his neck and lifting your hips slightly- he whines at the loss of pressure “oh? this is new.”

you take a moment to look at him- taking in his fucked out expression due to both his premature orgasm and his loss of blood “god aren’t you pathetic? the feeling of me sucking your blood made you cum hero?”

degradation- this is new to him, infact everything going on right is new to him, he’s not used to this feeling of submission, it makes his cock stir. “oh. f-fuck”

you think for a second- contemplating your options before you completely remove yourself from him, ignoring his plea “yknow- blood isn’t the only way a vampire can steal human essence.”

manoeuvring yourself beside him you delicately place your hands around the belt of his suit- teasing him. his eyes blow wide as you tug on his pants, taking his ruined boxers with them. he groans at the sudden feeling of the air against his cock.

gaping at him, you run your fingers up his dick- it’s long and thick, covered in cum from the ruins of his previous orgasm, you take some on your fingers and lick it off- all while maintaining intense eye contact- “i think this will do just fine- you wanna cum for me again hero?”

he can’t help the way his eyes roll back when you hum against your fingers- sucking them clean of his cum “y-yeah” the same feeling of patheticness washing over him “fuck y-you!”

a low chuckle comes from your lips-“hm i don’t think you mean that- look at you! made a mess all over yourself-” the sentence itself makes his cock twitch-

wrapping a hand around his dick- squeezing it slightly before before you begin to move your hand up and down- listening to his groans.

“o-oh fuck” his words come out disgruntled- his cock painfully hard as you work your fingers up and down it.

“what’s that katsuki? you wanna cum?” yes- yes god his head falls back at your words, mouth agape as he’s unable to control the sounds leaving his throat- doing nothing to stop you ruining him. “y-yeah!”

“how badly?” he groans in response- unable to deal with your relentless teasing- wishing nothing more than to cum again.

you stop your movements in an instant- he whines at the lack of stimulation “cmon answer the question katsuki? how badly do you wanna cum for me?”

it comes out in whines as he speaks- “s-so bad- ah!” his hips buck up into you as you begin to move your hand again- attempting to match your pace.

unable to control himself any longer due to the sensation your movements- and your words are giving him- he cums again- this time shooting ropes all over the pair of you-

you move quickly in order to catch it all, licking up his chest to catch the parts that landed there, you continue the movements of your mouth until it reaches the base of this cock- now red and twitching.

“coming all this way to deal with me too.. i’m starting to think that maybe you came looking for this” he shakes his head in refusal-

instead you begin to take long- slow licks from the base of his cock to the tip- teasing him relentlessly “you think you can give me another?”

tears breach his eyes when you take his tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around it- “n-no! can’t ! it’s too much!”

you remove yourself from him in an instant- tears now rolling down his face as he whines “are you sure?”

he’s too far gone already- completely immersed in your movements- embarrassment bubbling in his throat “no- no stop! touch me!”

you smile- a wicked one, you know you’ve got him. “i knew it- gonna cum again for me?” you dip back down- latching your mouth onto his cock yet again, hands move to grip his waist to stop him fucking your face.

“gonna cum like some touchstarved bitch for me huh?” you stop your attack on his dick only momentarily to speak before lunging down again- this time taking him fully.

it doesn’t take long to have him cumming again- thick ropes down your throat as both of your eyes roll back in pleasure- “thaats it- good job..” you allow the remaining seconds of his orgasm to rush though him- by the time he’s conscious enough to open his eyes your already stood up, fixing yourself.

“this was fun dynamite-” you take a look at him from the ground below him- dominating him as he pouts up at you-

“however, if you come around here looking for me again.. i can’t promise that you’ll be so lucky a second time round.”

he’s upset- upset that your moving away from him so quickly, upset that you seem to be leaving him“w-what? what do you mean?”

almost- you almost take pity on him, his fucked out face and the dust of red on his cheeks- he looks cute like this. that’s the problem. “was already hard enough for me to hold back this time”

you begin to walk away from him- ignoring how he seems to grasp himself up- fixing himself in the process“well- have a good one katsuki-” your voice comes out even more mysterious than before-

“s-stop! where are you going??” there’s longing in his eyes- already missing the effect your touch has on him- but by the time he gets up to catch you- your gone.

he whips around in circles- hoping- maybe to find a trace of where you went, failing miserably.

leaving him alone- in that same dark forest he first ventured to find you- he feels a sense of emptiness, alone with a pang of drowsiness that seems to hit him all that once. reaching his hand up to take a feel at the pain in his neck- he graces over the marks you left. cold, wet blood lacing his fingers before his vision goes black.

[myderis]

the promised fairytale ꒱ mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.3k

“Are you two married?” A small boy with a sword in hand, eyes bright and full of curiosity, turns to MYDEIMOS, and the prince immediately opens his mouth to dismiss the idea. “No, we are no—”

“Oh, Mydei. I didn’t know you saw me that way~” you tease, standing at the dusty training grounds as the kids swing their wooden swords around, trying to be just like their role models. His face flushes a little, but he doesn’t break his cool or let you tease him further.

“I don’t. More training, less talking,” Mydei says, keeping his attention on the little girl trying to hold her wooden weapon properly, though his annoyance is hard to ignore.

The girl looks up at the prince, raising an eyebrow. “You two argue like my parents do.” Mydei freezes, caught off guard by her bluntness. He rolls his eyes and sighs, walking away to take a breather, not wanting to have this conversation again. “Let’s take a break.”

As the children are happy with their well-deserved rest, you sidle up to them, handing them water or the much-preferred pomegranate juice. “He’s just shy. Give him time.” You wink, nudging the boy who started it all. “Now, now, who wants some sweet treats?”

The little girl takes advantage of you being occupied and approaches Mydei. She looks up at him, her hands carefully clutching her sword. “If I were like Lady (Name), a beautiful and good woman, and a prince like you came along…” She pauses, having that dreamy look on her face, waiting for his reaction. “We'd get married. That’s what happens in the fairytales, right?”

Mydei stands still, gazing down at the child and then at you, observing how your smile makes the rest of the children happier, how you just being here makes him feel so … giddy. He exhales deeply, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, fairytales are a bit nonexistent.” He glances at you, his voice soft. “But you should never settle for anything less than you deserve.”

“Really? Is the wedding soon?” The prince rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair, making her laugh, but he doesn’t answer, and she only takes his answer as a promise that it will happen.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[sweetsungiie]

Stolen Glances

|situationship!Sunghoon x f!reader, (kind of) toxic!Sunghoon, enemies to lovers (but not really)|

|warnings! cursing, mentions of alcohol and smoking, alcohol consumption, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), smut with plot, piv, protected sex, slight degradation and praise, minors dni! , pure filth so have fun|

|wc about 8k|

“I just don’t see why we’re throwing a ‘going away’ party, he’ll be back in like two weeks? Isn’t this a bit excessive?” With a roll of your eyes you let out a sigh from the back seat. Your fingers found the hem of the black mini skirt adorning your thighs, messing with it more the closer you got to your destination. 

“It’s not just a going away party, ok, it’s also a good luck party! Sunghoon’s going to Nationals this is a big deal and enough reason to celebrate, not that Heeseung and Jay ever really need a reason to throw a party.” Julie responds from the front seat with an excited smile on her face. 

“Okay but why do I have to come? Sunghoon and I can’t stand each other in case you forgot.” Outside the car window you notice the familiar street signs and houses leading towards the guys house, you knew you were approaching their street and you couldn’t ignore the nerves floating around your stomach. 

Sunoo groans from the passenger seat as he shifts his body to face you in the backseat. “Yeah, yeah, you hate each other but you’re also two grown adults in the same friend group so suck it up. Heeseung and Jay invited you and Sunghoon is very much aware. If he truly didn’t want you there he would have said something but he didn’t because he knows we’re all friends. It’s a big party so you probably won’t even have to speak to him.”

Of course you couldn’t tell your friend the real reason you preferred to stay home tonight so you would just have to suck it up and attend this party with a fake smile on your face the entire night and just hope Julie wants to go home early.

Sunoo wasn’t lying when he said this was a big party. You were still partially down the street and you could already see a line of cars parked on the side of the road. “Damn it, I knew we should have taken an Uber. Where the hell am I supposed to park now?” Julie jerked her head from left to right but it seemed the entire street was full of cars with no space in between. 

The blonde haired boy in the front seat only smiled brightly and pointed down the street, “Luckily I thought ahead. I called Soobin and he said we could park in his driveway. One of his roommates is out of town for the weekend so there’s an extra spot with our name on it.” Julie doesn’t hesitate to pull into the familiar driveway and before you knew it you found yourself walking through the doorway of a house you knew all too well. 

“There you are! We’ve been looking for you guys.” Jay is the first to greet you once you’re inside, his arm resting around a taller boy with dark black hair. You recognize him as an underclassman, the name Niki sounds promising but you’re not sure so you just smile kindly at the two of them.

“Now this isn’t exactly role model behavior, Jay. What will your underclassman think?” Julie shakes her head at him teasingly to which Jay just chuckles in response. 

“Nah, I’ve got a close eye on Riki, don’t worry about him. I’m getting him some water now. Man of the hour should be in the living room, think he was mid game with the others. I’ll be right back.” 

You held any further comments until Jay and the underclassmen were out of earshot, turning your head to watch them walk away before dropping the forced smile on your face. “Man of the hour? As if his ego wasn’t big enough.” 

“Play nice for a couple hours, you’ll survive. I’m going to look for Soobin and Beomgyu, bye girls.” Sunoo smiles and waves as he turns and makes his way deeper inside the house. 

“Come on, we can’t stand at the entrance all night.” Julie grabs your arm and pulls you in the direction of the living room and sure enough, there he was. Standing around a rectangular table scattered with red solo cups were the group of boys you had grown so fond of and Sunghoon was there too. The taller man was standing at the end of the table, a ping pong ball in his right hand with Jake hyping him up from his left side as he was about to toss the ball. He tosses it and to no one's surprise, he makes it into one of the cups making Heeseung, who stood at the opposite end of the table, take a drink. 

“Hey, nice! Hee you’re slacking.” Julie cheers with a laugh. Suddenly their eyes were on the both of you, no longer focused on the game of beer pong. You smile at the others kindly before allowing your eyes to drift over to Sunghoon, his eyes sparked with something you couldn’t explain but chose to ignore. 

Sunghoon quickly recovers, smiling brightly at Julie as he straightens up. “Julie, good to see you as always, thank you for coming.” His gaze shifts as his eyes meet yours again, this time a bitter look paints his features, “Y’n, you didn’t have to come all the way out here for me, seriously you shouldn’t have.” 

You felt a sting at his words but don’t let it show, instead you smile back, “You guys never really need an excuse to throw a party but celebrating you going away? How could I refuse something so sweet?” 

“Is that why you got all dressed up? Is that all for me?” He teases whilst dragging his eyes up and down your figure in front of everyone, but you don’t take the bait, instead you take the cheap shot that you know will come back to bite you but that's what he gets for ignoring you for the past week. 

“No, actually I remembered Heeseung said he liked this skirt on me once. What do you think, Hee? Still like it?” You spin around with a smirk on your face, stopping once you were facing Heeseung directly. He stares at you with a confused look on his face and his lips move as if he’s struggling to find the right words to say. You let out a giggle and slap his arms softly, “Don’t worry! I’m just teasing, I know I look good.” 

Heeseung chuckles and shakes his head at your humor, “When don’t you look good, Y/nnie.” His hand reaches up to ruffle your hair slightly which makes you huff. 

You don’t miss the way Sunghoon's eye burn into you at the action and it brings a smirk to your lips once you turn away from Heeseung only to find Sunghoon is still staring at you. You’re so focused on him you don’t even notice Julie grab at your arm and pull you away toward the kitchen with an announcement of grabbing a drink. 

Sunghoon doesn’t bother looking away from you as Julie pulls you away, not even trying to hide the distaste on his features. Jakes bumps his shoulder against him, “Dude, cut it out.” But the younger boy ignores him, turning his fiery gaze over to Heeseung now. 

“What the hell was that?” He asked before he could convince himself to stay quiet. Heeseung looks up from the ping pong ball in his hand and cocks his head to the side in confusion, he waits for Sunghoon to elaborate before answering. 

“Since when do you flirt with her?” If he had his head on straight, Sunghoon would have probably realized this line of questioning sounds a bit suspicious coming from him but Sunghoon never really thought clearly when it came to you. 

“You call that flirting? Man, stop playing around.” Heeseung dismisses him with a wave of his hand and turns his attention back to the game of beer pong in front of them. Despite Heeseung tossing the ball and making it into one of the cups, Sunghoon no longer seems interested and instead decides to walk away from the table altogether, leaving Jake and Heeseung standing with bewildered expressions on their faces.

He wasn’t sure what got over him tonight, he was usually much better at controlling himself around you. This little game the two of you have been playing has become almost second nature to him by now but there was just something about tonight. Maybe it was the way that cute mini skirt sat on your curves, or the way your soft hair cascaded down your back. Or perhaps it was because he had been so busy with practice and meetings the past few days that he’s barely been able to speak to you let alone see you in person. Sunghoon internally curses at himself for missing you just after a few days, this wasn’t like him at all. He’s not supposed to care, surely not supposed to miss your presence and get pissed off after you jokingly flirt with one of his friends. 

The rational part of Sunghoons brain is well aware that you are not actually hooking up with Heeseung nor are you actually interested in him but that side of him is being clouded at this moment by the overwhelming sense of irrational jealousy. This feeling was unknown to Sunghoon, he had prided himself in being nothing if not rational in all aspects of his life.  As he found himself walking up the stairs towards his bedroom for a moment of quiet, Sunghoon realized he would have to make a very complicated decision. He would either have to push you away or finally admit the harsh truth that his feelings towards you are anything but casual. Unfortunately for him, he was not prepared to do either. 

Whilst Sunghoon underwent a mild internal crisis just up the stairs, you were still in the kitchen with Julie who was currently building up some colorful concoction consisting of multiple different kinds of liquor and juices. “You know I thought I saw a bowl of jungle juice in the living room, you could’ve just grabbed some of that instead of whatever this is?” Your nose scrunches up as the strong scent of alcohol exudes from Julie’s so called expertise. 

She only shakes her head at you, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Here, try some.” She stirs up both drinks with a bright pink straw before handing you the disposable cup. The liquid nearly reached the brim which only caused a shiver to run down your spine. Deciding at that moment that you probably were going to need the liquid courage to survive the night you only slightly hesitated before bringing your lips to the cup and chugging down a large gulp. 

The liquor burned your throat and the sweetness of the juices only caused your stomach to groan in a disagreeing manner. There was no way you were finishing the entire cup but you smiled up at Julie nonetheless. The older girl smirked at you before taking a sip of her own drink. The way her eyes squeezed shut at the taste told you exactly what you already knew. Julie did not know jack shit about mixing drinks but who were you to tell her that. 

“Okay, now that you have alcohol in your system you can tell me what the hell that was about with the guys?” Her eyes squint at you as she purses her lips waiting for a response. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feel your shoulders shrug and your hand brings the questionable cocktail back towards your lips to avoid answering her question. In reality you knew exactly what she was talking about of course, you had acted differently tonight and it was all because of him. It was slightly embarrassing realizing the effect he has on you, how you never would have acted that way if it weren’t for him. Heeseung was your friend and sure you teased him every now and then but openly trying to flirt with him just to get a reaction out of his friend was a new low. Part of you felt guilty, but another more shallow part of you is still riding the high of the pure look of jealousy on Sunghoons face. It was good to know you had an effect on him as well. No matter how crazy he drives you, you could rest easy knowing it was not just your emotions getting the better of you. 

In the moment you hadn’t realized how strange your actions may have seemed to the people around you, you had only wanted to get under his skin in the only way you knew how. Sunghoon was an athlete therefore being competitive is in his nature so what better way to show him what he’s missing than introducing him to his “competition.” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t play dumb it doesn’t suit you. Acting flirty with Heeseung? Teasing Sunghoon?” She raises an eyebrow at you with surely hundreds of assumptions circling around her head. 

“I wasn’t flirting or teasing anyone, I was just joking around.” Hoping your nonchalance would shut the subject down, you’re quick to shrug and spin on your heels to walk back towards the living room but of course Julie is following right behind. She quickly steps to the side before stepping right in front of you, the two of you stood frozen in the middle of the hallway but no one seems to notice the death glare she’s throwing your way with her hand on her hip. 

“Y/n, don’t insult me by lying to me. What was that? I thought you hated Sunghoon but you were acting like you wanted to get a reaction out of him. Don’t play, you know I know you too well.” Poor Julie doesn’t realize how ironic her words sound to you. Julie knew you better than anyone but even she didn’t know the secret you’ve been dragging around with you for the past three months. 

“I do hate him, I can’t stand the man. Let's not forget who forced me to come tonight so forgive me for trying to find some entertainment while I’m here.” Once again you try to squeeze past her through the tight hallway. You end up back in the living room spotting the guys all scattered around now. 

“You’re acting weird, but I’ll drop it for now.” The two of you are quick to have a seat on a loveseat and fall into an easy conversation with Jake and Jungwon. The minutes pass and Sunghoon is nowhere to be found which only causes even more annoyance, you haven’t seen him all week and while you enjoy the peace without his bickering you would rather have him teasing you than not have him here at all. Before you can dwell on it too long, you hear the song change into one of your favorites and suddenly Julie is pulling you and the guys up to dance together and you don’t even have to fake the smile on your face when you do so.

Sunghoon doesn’t realize how long it had been before he decided to make his way back down the stairs to rejoin the party. However as soon as his foot landed on the last step his eyes found you, dancing in the middle of the living room. You were swaying your hips with Julie right behind you. Honestly you were practically grinding on your friend which didn’t bother Sunghoon, what bothered him was the way Jake was watching you. Sunghoon watched with heat in his eyes as you made eye contact with Jake and smiled at him. Suddenly that irrational jealousy he had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to dissolve was shooting right back up to the surface. The athlete wasn’t thinking clearly when he decided to do a 180 back to his room all whilst pulling out his phone. His fingers were typing away before he could stop himself and soon enough he had hit send and there was no going back. The message sitting within that blue bubble haunted him, it was too late now so he once again fails to stop himself from sending a second text just for good measure. 

The first message had gone unnoticed by you, the ding was nearly silent compared to the loud music blaring throughout the living room. Now the second message was a bit clearer since it came through as soon as the song was starting to end. 

DNI

Come upstairs

DNI

Now.

You’d be lying if you said the message didn’t bring a shiver down your spine, after all you were just a girl and a weak one at that because without even realizing it you found yourself inching towards the staircase. Julie was too busy dancing with Jake and a few others who had joined in to notice your leave. This was risky, the two of you had never met up like this with all your friends around and it was filling you with an alarming amount of excitement. The thought was unfortunately not enough to stop you from quickly making your way up the stairs without a lick of hesitation in your step. With the amount of times you had snuck in here while the others were gone or sleeping you knew exactly where you were going. 

For a moment you considered knocking on his bedroom door but the impatience bubbling within you wouldn’t allow such a thing so with your hand wrapped around the door knob you push his bedroom door open before sliding inside and shutting it behind you. You pause then with your back resting against the door. Sunghoon was sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows on his knees. His right leg was bouncing impatiently and you could tell how angrily he clenched his jaw from where you stood. 

“Lock it.” Is all he says without bothering to look up at you, his eyes are trained on the wall in front of him. You don’t hesitate to follow his order, turning the lock over and not daring to do anything else. Sunghoon smirks as soon as he hears the click of the lock. You always were so good at following orders when it was just the two of you, but why is it that in front of everyone else you just had to be such a brat? 

You blink and suddenly Sunghoon is standing up and walking towards you. He towers over you now to which you have to crane your neck to make eye contact with him. His right hand comes up to wrap around your exposed throat, not squeezing you but putting just enough pressure to make you aware that he could if he wanted to. His other hand reaches down to toy with the hem of your mini skirt, the material scrunches at his touch and he can’t help but scoff. The air around you was so tense but it was the look in Sunghoon’s eyes that made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. His gaze was burning through you and setting you aflame but you couldn’t look away, couldn’t push him away. Not like you wanted to anyway.

“Did you have fun down there? Flirting with Heeseung, dancing with Jake? Are you that much of a slut that you turn to my friends when I don’t give you attention?” His voice finally breaks the silence between you. His cruel words should have angered you but you nearly had to hold back a whine in response. The universe was so unfair presenting you with this insufferable man and then make it impossible for you to resist him. 

“I asked you a question, angel.” His voice is barely above a whisper but yet it startles you. In the short moment you found yourself losing your composure, Sunghoon had managed to lean down closer to you. His lips were a breath away from the skin of your jaw. 

You could tell he wasn’t playing around anymore with the way his grip on your throat tightened and the hand previously toying with the material of your skirt drifted upwards to grab at your waist instead. There was a choice to be made here. You could either answer his question in earnest or provoke him and since you knew very well Sunghoon already considered you a brat, why not push the agenda even further. 

“If you don’t give me attention someone else will, Sunghoon. Whether or not that happens to be a friend of yours is none of my concern.” You force your eyes to bore into his despite the nerves running down your spine. His jaw clicks, clenches and unclenches before he forces your head up even further, stretching your neck up the entire way as he leans down to drag his lips down your neck, not quite kissing you yet. He inhales your scents and sighs against your skin. 

“I’m sure they’d jump at the chance but you don’t want their attention, do you baby? No, your body craves me, doesn’t it?” His eyes travel down the length of your trembling figure and a scoff pushes past his lips at the sight, “I mean you’re practically shaking and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

“Call it pent up sexual frustration after being ignored for a week.” You counter with an attempt to stabilize yourself. Sunghoon arches an eyebrow at you in disbelief. 

“I wasn’t ignoring you, brat. You know I was busy with practice and don’t act like you haven’t been touching yourself all week to the thought of me.” He pulls away from your neck only to push you even further up against the door and press his body against yours. The contact of his skin on yours brought a wave of heat all the way down to your core. It should be concerning how much your body yearned for him but you weren’t prepared to deal with that revelation. 

“How would I know that if you never told me? One text would have been enough but I didn’t hear from you at all for a week and instead I had to hear it from Sunoo.” His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for just a moment before he masks it. 

“What does it matter who you heard it from, you knew I was busy.” His words light a different kind of fire within you now. The anger rises before you have a chance to stop it.

“You are such an asshole. Of course it matters, I should have heard it from you. All you had to do was tell me you were going to be busy this week but instead you ghost me for a week and then you throw this party and you act like a dick.” 

This time Sunghoon doesn’t bother hiding his confusion, he backs away slightly and the hand on your throat loosens. “I don’t have to do anything, last I checked I’m not your fucking boyfriend, Y/n.” His head tilts to examine your reaction. 

Your eyes widen in surprise before squinting back into a glare and you nod up at him lifting your arms up to push him away. “You’re absolutely right you aren’t my boyfriend nor do you want to be as you have made perfectly clear. Luckily for me there’s at least ten guys right downstairs who would kill to be, including your best friends.” 

Once you force Sunghoon back you turn to unlock the door and leave the room but of course Sunghoon wasn’t about to let you leave after saying something like that. You barely have the chance to twist the lock before he pulls you away from the door completely. He turns to step in front of you, his hands finding purchase in the same place they were before. His hand on your waist guides you to walk backwards towards his bed as the hand on your throat inches upwards to squeeze at your jaw instead. 

“Don’t be stupid, what did I just tell you? You and I both know you don’t want anybody downstairs, you don’t want anyone else.” His words come out almost as a growl whilst his eyes were burning into you so fiercely you almost couldn’t recognize him. 

“What do you want, Sunghoon?” The question forced its way out of your mouth before you could stop it. Sunghoon glares down at you, his eyes erratically jumping across your features not fully deciding where to focus.

“Fuck.” He lets go of you then and brings his hands up to grip at his hair, pushing his hair back out of his face. “You’re no good for me. I can’t think straight around you, you’re fucking with my head and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it because I want you.” He steps up to you again this time bringing both of his hands to cup your jaw. “What are you doing to me?” His pleading eyes search your face for an answer. 

You can’t help the shock that crosses your features at his confession. Your hands hesitantly lift to rest over his own on your jaw, you caress the back of his hands with your thumbs as you look up at him, the anger within you dying down if only slightly to look up at him adoringly rather than scorchingly like before. 

“Same thing that you’re doing to me. I’ve never known you to be a coward, Hoonie. Tell me what you want.” It’s barely above a whisper but to Sunghoon you might as well have shouted it. The words slammed into his chest so intensely he almost leaned back in response. He shuts his eyes for only a moment before responding to you. 

“I want you. I want you so bad it scares me, I’ve never felt this way before. I can’t focus because all I do is think about you. This week was so important for my athletic career but the only reason my practices kept running late was because I kept fucking up thinking about you, I was so distracted that I was making stupid little mistakes. I thought staying away from you would help but I only grew more frustrated. I don’t just want you, I need you, I crave you so bad I don’t think it’s healthy. Fuck I’ve never-” He cuts himself off by looking down at his feet with his eyebrows knitting together in frustration. 

“I don’t know what to do with how I feel.” He admits after a moment and his eyes find yours again in the darkness of his dimly lit bedroom. You were aware that before you got involved with Sunghoon, he had never really had a girlfriend. Growing up the guys always referred to him as the romantic type, Heeseung would even tease him that he would be the first to get married but once they hit college it seemed all Sunghoon would allow himself to indulge in were casual hookups. It didn’t happen very often, you knew of only two other girls that the boys had brought up, both which Sunghoon hooked up with casually a few times before cutting it off. From what you heard they didn’t last longer than a couple weeks. You knew you weren’t crazy for thinking things were different between you two, there was something else here stronger than the “casual” title you liked to convince yourselves described your situation. 

“You talk to me like an adult, Sunghoon. You tell me how you feel honestly and you don’t push me away when you get scared, I’m scared too, ok?” You pause to allow him a moment to take that in, he nods and breathes in all while relishing in the feeling of your hands still over his own. He wonders to himself if your touch has always brought him this much comfort. 

“But, for now, you can start by kissing me and showing me exactly how much you missed me this week.” A grin lifts the corners of your lips at the sight of Sunghoon’s eyes widening in surprise. He wasn’t expecting your forgiveness tonight, he didn’t think he deserved it, didn’t think he deserved you but he wasn’t about to let this chance pass him by so he decided to earn your forgiveness in the best way he knew how. 

His grip on your jaw tightened and he didn’t hesitate before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first full of so much emotion and desire that it made you feel all weak in the knees, you would have surely collapsed if it weren’t for his hold on your jaw. His lips were so soft against yours you never wanted it to end but when the kiss evolved into something hungrier you wouldn’t be caught dead complaining with the way his hands traveled down to your waist squeezing you so tightly as if he was afraid you’d disappear otherwise. He sucked at your lips before pushing his tongue into your mouth, it was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. Your own hands found their way around his neck to pull at his hair as he pulled you closer into his body to feel exactly how much he wanted you. The prominent bulge in his pants mirrored your own arousal if the slickness pooling in your underwear was anything to go off of. Sunghoon caught the way you squeezed your thighs together and he had to hold back a groan at the sight. 

“Oh baby, let me take care of you, please. Let me show you how sorry I am, please angel, let me make you feel good.” He was practically begging which only added to your arousal as you felt yourself growing wetter. You granted him permission with a soft nod but that wasn’t enough for him, despite literally begging to satisfy you, he had to make it known he was still in control. 

“Use your words, angel.” He whispered against your lips waiting for an answer. You mutter a ‘yes’ which is when Sunghoon allows himself to kiss you again. His right hand finds your throat again and he pushes your head back softly exposing more of your neck to him. “You’re so gorgeous, fuck.” You’re not allowed a moment to answer before his lips latch onto your neck. The way he kisses and sucks at your skin pulls a whine from deep within you, at this point you had no shame in showing him exactly how needy you were for him as if he didn’t know it already. His other hand that was previously on your waist traveled to grab at your ass, groping and caressing as he saw fit.

“Sunghoon please.” The whines escaping past your lips only encourage Sunghoon to continue to tease you, kissing and sucking and biting at your throat roughly enough that he was sure he’d leave marks but he didn’t care anymore. He lifted up to kiss your lips once more before he pulled away slowly. The sight of Sunghoon falling to his knees before you was not one you were unfamiliar with but tonight was different, the way his eyes never left yours as he lowered himself onto his knees ignited you and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before. There was something vulnerable in his gaze as though he was giving you much more than what it seems right now. 

Once on the floor he trails his fingers up to pull your skirt and underwear down your legs in one go. You lift your legs one at a time so he can fully remove the clothing before taking a seat on the edge of his bed still with your legs closed. Sunghoon rests his hands on thighs and presses a kiss on your knees before softly pushing your legs open and pulling you even closer to the edge of the bed so he was facing your bare glistening cunt. 

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, angel.” He presses a kiss on the inside of your thighs before biting at the skin of your inner thigh. With a smirk he leaned closer to where you needed him most before blowing softly onto your pussy causing you to groan out before leaning back on your elbows to watch him. 

“Hoonie, please please.” You begged with frustration dripping from your tone. You needed him so bad you were convinced if he didn’t do something soon you would explode. 

“Please what, angel?” He teased whilst pressing another kiss on your inner thigh. “Fuck, please I need your mouth.” The smirk on his lips only grew at your words, “You need my mouth? Where, angel? Here?” He brought his lips back to your thighs, kissing and sucking at your skin to which you groaned. 

“Need your mouth on my cunt, Hoonie.” You squealed out before grabbing the back of his head and pushing him towards your dripping center. He chuckled but didn’t stop you after all he was supposed to be the one grovelling for your forgiveness not the other way around. The relief you felt as he licked a stripe up your cunt was instant and so prominent that you couldn’t stop the loud needy moan that came out of you just from one touch. Sunghoons hand gripped your thighs tightly as he dived into your sweetness, he was like a man starved licking and sucking to swallow as much of your taste as he could. His tongue trailed up to circle you clit before pressing against it entirely, relishing in the way your entire body shook in response. 

“This pretty pussy missed me, huh? Fuck I missed your taste too, baby. The sweetest pussy, made just for me.” He groaned into your cunt, sucking your clit harshly into his mouth. You were moaning so loudly and shamelessly if it weren’t for the loud music from the party downstairs you were sure everyone in the house would hear exactly how good Sunghoon was making you feel. 

You don’t even realize him taking two of his fingers to circle your hole as he licks at your clit. It doesn’t take long for his cold fingers to be coated in your arousal making it entirely too easy for him to slip two fingers inside of you. The action causes a moan from both of you, Sunghoon pulled away from your clit to admire how easily his fingers slid in and out of you whilst you were so pleased to finally be filled by something other than your own fingers. Sunghoon’s fingers always felt so much better, being longer and thicker than your own made it so easy for him to find that spot that made you see stars, a spot he was currently making sure to hit with each thrust. 

“That’s my girl, squeezing around my fingers so tight, fuck. I need you squeezing my cock like that, okay?” He groans as he lifts his free hand to slide underneath your shirt and squeeze at your breasts. You nod along to his words before moaning again, “Yes, yes, I need your cock please fuck me. Want to cum on your cock, Hoonie.” Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel your lower stomach begin to tighten. 

Sunghoon smiled at the sight as he thrusted his fingers into you at a faster pace. “You will, baby, but first I need you to cum on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” He brought his lips back down to your clit, licking and sucking just right all while his long fingers continue to hit that spongy part inside you. The moan you released at the action was so erotic and breathy Sunghoon couldn’t stop himself from lowering the hand previously groping your tits down to press against his throbbing hard on. 

He felt you clench around his fingers as you arched your back toward him letting him know you were close. “Come on baby, cum on my fingers like a good girl.” He mumbles against your clit before going back to sucking at it vigorously until he felt your walls squeeze his fingers so tightly he was convinced they would break off. You felt your orgasm crash through you before you could say anything, you cum with a moan of his name, pulling at his hair whilst he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a slower place allowing you time to ride out your orgasm. You hadn’t even noticed the way your hips practically grinded against his face on their own until you felt his nose hit your clit in a way that had you shaking with over stimulation. “That’s my good girl, fuck you taste so good for me, angel. You did so well.” He praises all whilst still pressing kisses on your clit and on your thighs before pulling his fingers out of and sucking them into his mouth all while keeping his eyes on yours. You let out another moan at the sight. He lifts himself up off the floor and you take the hint to move back to allow him room on the bed with you. 

His hand grasps the back of your neck and pulls your head until he’s hovering right above you. His thumb presses against your lips which you part instantly for him. Now understanding what he wants, you lean your head further back and stick your tongue out for him to spit into your mouth, a mix of his saliva and your release drips onto your tongue as you moan. “My good girl, you see how good you taste, see why I can’t get enough?” You nod along to his words despite barely being able to comprehend anything post orgasm right now. 

“I need to be inside you, baby. Need to feel you around my dick.” You aren’t sure if he’s expecting a response or just talking to himself but either way you’re not given the chance to react before Sunghoon lifts you and moves you to lay on your back on the bed and hovers above you. His lips connect with yours again and on instinct your legs wrap around his waist already grinding your hips upwards. “Fuck, needy baby, one wasn’t enough you grinding on me for another? I love it, I’ll give you what you need.” In a flash he lifts his shirt over his head, yours following right after. He takes a moment to admire the pretty bra he knows you put on just for him but it’s not long before it ends up on the floor as well so he can finally suck one of your nipples into his mouth whilst his other hand toys with the other. His hips grind down into your bare cunt all on their own, he could care less for the wet mess the action leaves on his pants. 

“Sunghoon, please I can’t take it anymore. I need you inside me, I want to feel you.” Your hands grab at his head to bring him back up to your lips, pulling his lips to kiss yours as your hands lower to unzip his pants and push them down to which he doesn’t hesitate to help you do. He gets up momentarily to pull his pants and briefs off and grabs a condom from his nightstand. 

His body is back on top of yours before you know it, his fist wrapping around the base of his cock to angle it towards your cunt. He drags his mushroom tip up and down your folds to coat it in your slick. He groans at the feeling and you respond similarly while arching your back and grinding your hips against him. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you feel his tip press against your hole before pushing in. Both of you sigh at the feeling of being connected in such a way. 

Sunghoon hides his face in the space where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and biting at the skin there as he feels your walls clenching around him. You felt so warm and tight he had to hold back before he came right then. Your legs wrapped around him and your left hand pulled at his hair whilst the other squeezed around his bicep. You moaned right into his ear once he pulled out just slightly only to thrust back in slowly. Sunghoon all but hissed at the feeling as he began thrusting into you at a pace both of you seemed to enjoy if your sounds of pleasure were anything to go by. 

“Shit, I’ve missed this, missed you.” He groans into your ear which sends shivers down your spine. “Hoonie, harder please.” You squeeze your eyes shut at the request, relishing in the feeling of being so full. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Fuck this pussy was made for me, you were made for me.” His thrusts grow harder and faster which rips a moan from your chest and brings a grin to his lips. His hips are now slamming into you and Sunghoon drags himself down to kiss and lick down your chest until he reaches your tits again. “Feels so good, Hoonie.” Your words are just barely understandable but Sunghoon nods along in agreement anyway. 

“I know, baby, I know.” His right hand drops down so he can circle your clit with his thumb, only increasing your already growing pleasure and pushing you towards that all too familiar edge. His hips snap against you at an unthinkable pace and with the way he plays with your clit at a matching speed you just barely have enough time to warn Sunghoon before you feel the beginnings of your orgasm. 

“Hoon…nh-I’m coming.” You open your eyes as you feel him pull away from your neck only to look deep into your eyes, “Come for me, angel. I need to feel you, shit.” He witnesses the moment you begin to orgasm as he watches your pretty mouth form an O shape as your eyebrows furrowed together. You always looked so beautiful when you orgasmed but tonight was different, just the sight alone was enough to push Sunghoon over the edge and before he could stop himself he felt his thrusts grow sloppy as he released into the condom. He groaned out as he continued to thrust slowly to allow both of you time to come down. 

The exhaustion hits him without him even realizing it. His body collapses against yours, not bothering to pull out of you as he gets comfortable just laying with you. As though it was normal for you, your hands wrapped around him and you smoothed out the hair on the back of his head hearing him sighing in content at the feeling. 

“I like this. I could fall asleep like this every night.” He whispers into your neck before pressing a tender kiss there. You smile at his confession beginning to like this new side of Sunghoon he had hidden from you before. 

“Like inside me?” You teased with a playful laugh. He groans but it morphs into a laugh midway. “That’s not what I mean but if you’re offering I won’t refuse.” The two of you giggle into each other at your banter before it grows into a calming silence again.

“I know what you meant. I like it too.” You can feel him smile against your skin which brings a blush to your cheeks. The two of you spend a few minutes just laying there in each other's hold enjoying the calm silence and each other's presence. However you knew you couldn’t stay there for the rest of the night, the bass of the music downstairs was an unfortunate reminder of why you were here in the first place. Your nails scratch at his back to softly get his attention. 

“Hoonie, we’re going to have to get up now.” He shakes his head in response, mumbling something unintelligible into your neck. “I know, I don’t want to move either but this party is for you and I’m sure we’ve already been gone long enough for it to be considered suspicious.” 

“I don’t care.” His hold on you tightens. “Baby, if we go back out there I can let Julie know to go home without me so I can spend the night here, deal?” That gets his attention as he immediately rises up and presses a kiss to your lips, “Deal.” He softly pulls his now softened dick out of you, hissing at the feeling. 

“Fuck, let me clean you up baby.” He gets up to grab some wipes before cleaning you up in such a caring manner you would have never thought he was capable of. “Uh, I think you might have to wash your makeup off.” He sheepishly smiled at the sight of your runny mascara and smudged lipstick. 

You groan as Sunghoon guides you to his private bathroom for you to see the damage. Sure enough, Sunghoon was right, there was no way you could go back downstairs like this so you wash your face and decide to go without makeup for the rest of the party. The two of you get dressed pretty quickly and whilst doing so you decided to not say anything to your friends tonight, although they would probably figure it out on their own you don’t want to say anything to bring too much attention to the two of you tonight especially since it wasn’t just your friend group at this party tonight. Therefore, you agreed to walk back downstairs first with Sunghoon following behind you a few minutes later. 

Sunghoon steps in front of you to open his bedroom door, once he finds the hall is empty he opens the door a bit more allowing you room to step out but not before he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“Oh shit.” The two of you jump apart at the sound of another voice quickly turning to find Heeseung stepping out of his own bedroom that was right across the hall with an unlit blunt between his lips. 

“Oh..” There goes your plan to keep things a secret for just a little while longer. 

“Hey hyung look, we can-” Sunghoon starts only to be interrupted by his older friend. 

“I knew it! Damn, Jake owes me a twenty for this, this is a great night.” He grins before shutting his bedroom door and making his way down the stairs as though nothing happened. 

“Um, what just happened?” You tilt your head up to look at Sunghoon who seemed equally as confused.

“Well, clearly our friends bet on us. I don’t know how to feel about that.” A small grin paints itself on his lips once his eyes find yours and you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“Come on, we gotta do damage control now before the entire house hears about this.” Sunghoon follows behind you without a hint of hesitation although at this point he could care less if everyone at this party knew about the two of you. Actually, Sunghoon thinks he would prefer it that way. 

[touyaz]

The ability to block whoever you want is like one of the best perks of social media but also humanity's worst enemy bc like curating your online experience is great and all but the way people shut out other's simply for disagreeing w their own opinions is so detrimental I think like if seeing anything that opposes you impacts you that badly I really wonder how you will deal in real life situations where you can't just Remove People

[fatkish]

Alpha Rengoku x Omega Reader

Pt. 2 NSFW

You met again during the Mugen train fiasco. You went ahead of Tanjiro and the others and met up with Rengoku

You both talked, well mostly you talked while he ate, about the theories you had for how a whole train’s worth of passengers could disappear

Rengoku tried to feed you and insisted that you eat but you told him you didn’t want to eat in the event that it gave you a cramp mid battle. Rengoku understood and backed off

When you fell asleep from Enmu’s ability, you dreamt of a future with Kyojuro. You both got married and had children. You were so happy

When you woke up and realized it was a dream, you knew then that you wanted to persue a bond with Kyojuro

When Akaza showed up after defeating Enmu, you refused to let the fight go on after Rengoku lost an eye. You ran in between the two and faced down Akaza

You refused to move and told Akaza that if he’s going to kill your mate, he may as well kill you too, since you wouldn’t want to live in a world without Kyojuro

Akaza, having a self set rule of not killing and eating women and Omegas, decided to let you both live and fled, (it totally wasn’t because his human memories tried to interfere with him)

Once morning came you turned around and began scolding Kyojuro for being reckless with his own life. Whilst you yelled at him, he stood there still trying to comprehend the fact that you called him your mate

When you were finished scolding him and asked if he understood you, he asked if you really meant it when you called him your mate. You shyly admitted that you wouldn’t mind being his mate

Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to do much as a demon slayer anymore, Kyojuro decided that he would spend his time training the next generation of demon slayers, that way he still had enough time to be there for you as your mate

Once Kyojuro got all healed up, he retired and you went with him.

Shinjuro and Senjuro were so happy to have another member of the family. Senjuro was so excited to hear that you would be living with them permanently. Shinjuro was glad to have an omega to help look after

As things settled down, Kyojuro began to officially court you, he made sure you had a comfortable place to nest, he made sure you ate, he kept you safe and at night he’d keep you warm as he snuggled with you, holding you in his arms

When your heat came about, this man unleashed a feral side of him. You saw stars as Kyojuro ate you out like you were his last meal. His tongue writhing inside of you, his fingers curling and stretching your walls as he sucked on your pussy/bussy

Kyojuro has a 7 1/2 inch cock with delicious veins and a red tip. There’s a slight upwards curve and he has about 2 inches in girth. His knot is about 3 inches

When you presented for him, he descended upon you and sheathed his whole cock inside of you before plowing through your insides. He growled and bit at your neck as his cock pummeled your poor sensitive cunt/bussy

When his knot swelled and pushed inside of you, locking you both together, he snarled and bit down on your scent gland, marking you as his as he came

After your heat hit and passed, his rut happened two weeks later. During his rut, he had you in all kinds of positions, enjoying you in every way he could imagine. You couldn’t walk straight for a couple days afterwards

As time went on, Kyojuro had gotten you pregnant 5 different times. Each of your children have his flame like hair. You both had five children, three boys and two girls

When you gave Kyojuro the news, you surprised him by giving him a box that had baby clothes in them. When he asked what this meant, you smiled and told him he was going to be a father

He sat there for a few moments as his smile slowly grew larger as your words sunk in. When he finally registered what you said he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around before kissing you

When Shinjuro received the news of his becoming a grandfather, he smiled and promised to be a better role model for his grandchildren than he was for his boys

Senjuro was so excited to be an uncle and helped you during each pregnancy. He helped you cook and do the chores and even helped you get around when Kyojuro was busy

When your first child was born, Kyojuro wept as he held his first child for the first time. He thanked you endlessly for giving him something so precious as a child

When your milk started to come in, Kyojuro begged you to let him taste it, he gave you his best big puppy dog eyes and you caved. Kyojuro fell in love with the taste of your milk and you’ve had to scold him to leave some for his pups. Whatever they don’t drink, he’ll finish off, you never have issues with leaks since Kyojuro and the pups never let your milk overfill

His pups developed their father’s appetite for your milk, they’ll drink their fill then take a nap. When they wake up they’ll be hungry again

Kyojuro is always happy to get the babies when they cry at night, his pups love him and they immediately calm down

Shinjuro helps out as well. He and Kyojuro take turns with getting the kids

Kyojuro loves his pups and he happily plays with them. He teaches his pups to fight and defend themselves and plays rough with them, even the girls, when they want to

He lets his girls play with his hair and give him ridiculous hairstyles to which he happily shows off as a sign of his love for his children

Your kids love their grandpa Shinjuro and will tackle him to the floor to which he happily laughs at

He reads them stories and spoils them with toys. He loves his grandchildren and constantly thanks you for giving him grandchildren. He does still miss Ruka but he realized that his children love him and that even though there is still a void left from her passing, his loved ones will always be there for him

Senjuro helps you teach the pups and often visits with them. The pups love their uncle Senjuro and they think he’s cool and fun

Senjuro helps you in the kitchen since the family has become rather large and Kyojuro’s appetite has only grown. You and Senjuro share recipes and love cooking together

You’ll give him advice on life and he’ll happily take it. You also give him encouragement to find love and enjoy his life

Eventually, once Muzan is killed, you and Kyojuro open a dojo, there, you and Kyojuro teach people how to wield swords and how to properly fight with them, passing on the flame breathing techniques to your children

Tag list: @imagineshazamlokimight

[dreamertf]

Role Reverse

/muscle drain, muscle growth, straight to gay, dom to sub, sub to dom, masculinization

/Was on metabods and was inspired by this story

Jack and his roommate Cas weren't on great terms. Jack had moved in a few months ago, finding Cas through a listing on craigslist-- only the listing didnt mention that Cas was a complete bigot. Since the first day of moving in, Jack had been tormented by the tall jock. Cas egging him on for being trans and gay. The daily berating was getting annoying, and Jack wanted to move out but the lease wouldnt be over for a few more months.

As he was doomscrolling tiktok he got an ad for some sort of new social media app called Facets that seemed targeted at gay people.

Facets; each lens creating a new reality

He stared at the app as it downloaded, going through the preview pictures. The way the screenshots were presented made it look like there was some built-in ai photomanipulation that changes your pictures based on your tags. It made sense. Everyone was insanely attractive on the preview photos, inhumanely so.

Creating his account he had to input his information, it felt like a dating app.

Jack Engoff

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 210

Body type: Chub

Position: Verse

Gender: Trans Masc

Scrolling through the app, it was just like scrolling through the previews. Everyone was insanely hot.

Jack decided to get back at Cas a little, have a little fun. He knew that the jock fell asleep in the living room last night after getting home drunk, so he had complete access to him.

Sneaking quietly he stood in front of the behomoth on the couch, his breathing deep and heavy as his pecs rose and fell rhythmically. His thick muscular legs spread, revealing his huge member.

Jack hated how hot he was, he looked like all the other guys on the app.

He took a picture as he thought about what tags to put.

#bottom #skinny #powerbottom #twink #short #sub #femboy #wanttobedominated #thirstybussy

As he pressed post, the loading screen glitched out. Suddenly, a picture of a cute twink appeared. Short 5'5" lean frame with a bubble butt. His waist is small, and his face brimming with feminine masculinity. His previously spread legs were closed as his small dainty hands covered his crotch, his huge ass pointing up- his face down in the couch. He was practically swimming in his clothes, even though they had shrunk to accommodate his new body.

Jack loved seeing his tormenter brought down a few pegs, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't turned on.

---

He looked up in shock as the small twink in the photo manifested in front of him. His breathing wasn't heavy anymore, slight movement to his narrow shoulders as he slept peacefully.

Suddenly he heard slight muttering and moans come from cas.

"Oh Jackie.... im so tight.. please you're ripping me apart!" He moaned, his voice high pitched and sensual.

Jack was immediately turned on, he didnt know what to do.

If this app was able to do this, what could he do to himself?

He took a selfie as he formulated the perfect tags.

#powertop #dom #cisman #himbo #jock #bodybuilder #hugefeet #giant #hugeverywhere #model #abs #jawline #irresistible

He hit post as he ran to the bathroom to see his changes.

His patters became thuds as his feet grew out to size 15s.

He felt his bottom growth lengthen as it turned into a fully functioning penis, becoming thicker as his balls dropped-- becoming huge and juicy. His top surgery scars disappeared as he lost all his fat, his muscles defining themselves, becoming that of a god.

His broad shoulders pushed themselves out as his shirt completely disappeared, leaving his huge juicy tits in the cold air. His torso elongating as his abs popped into existence. He smiled as his adams apple dropped and became more prominent.

He flexed in the mirror, smiling as his face became extremely symmetrical and handsome. His curly hair grew out a tiny bit on top, giving him a lusty edge.

"Jackkkkkk is that you? Whats happening i feel so weak..."

He heard a voice come from behind him, standing in the doorway was Cas, dazed and confused.

Inside Cas was screaming, was he that hungover? Why was jack so much bigger than him.

"Hey baby" Jack said in his deep voice, as he spoke Cas immediately got hard-- his small two inch dick parely tenting his shorts.

Jack picked Cas up easily, kissing him as he brought the shorter man into the bedroom.

"I heard you muttering in your sleep, if you wanted me that bad why didnt you say?"

Cas blushed. It was undeniable how hot Jack was, but he wasn't gay! Cas leaned back in bed as the giant 6 foot 8 giant stood before him.

Seeing him in such a compromising position made jack's huge member immediately come to attention.

As he pulled down his sweats it flopped out, leaking warm goey thick pre as his giant foot long soda can wide dick ached for Cas.

Cas gasped, leaning forward as he felt an irresitable urge to worship Jack's body. Licking up the pre with his tongue as jack grabbed him by the hair.

"Good boy, keep licking and maybe ill fuck you."

[princesssmars]

sweet✰honey✰buckin

a rodeo!abby x reader. | p.ii

its a hot spring in the south and rodeo season is here. your hunt for a new fling leads you to an up-and-coming hotshot bull rider with an aversion to groupies. maybe you can change her mind.

wc : 2.509

contains : fxf relationship. barely attempted country slang. fluff. smut. oral and penetrative sex (r!receiving). nicknames (baby, darlin', a single bunny).

a/n : yeah guess who just listened to cowboy carter. idk why i posted about this before writing a single word but i didn't procrastinate this time yall clap it up and enjoy.

if you think about it, this was really all dolly partons' fault.

you could still picture the first time you saw her, the grainy recording on your grandmother's television, the gentle melodies from the blonde bombshell wrapping around you like a warm hug. you'd only been exposed to the south for a few weeks, and you already knew who you wanted your role model to be.

and the buckle bunny stuff also wasn't your fault! you were gorgeous, as people so loved to remind you at every twist and turn. and maybe you used your looks to your advantage sometimes. the first time was when you batted your eyelashes to make a boy do your project a day before it was due in junior year. he was... good-looking, you supposed. smart enough to be on the chess team, so he would do.

so you went to a little party with your friends that night. a spacious house, nice music, and good enough booze. everything was normal until you saw her. she was lean and mysterious, and under the lid of her black ridge top hat you could see her eyes tracking your body as you danced

so yes, her eating you in the back seat of her truck until you cried, holding down your hips when you tried to move changed your brain chemistry just a bit.

now a few years later, you're a little taller, a little smarter, and have collected a handful of studs for your belt. sure you've collected a...not so savory reputation in some of the local bars, but it was nothing a smile and a little flirting couldn't help. and its only going to get better; as the air warms and the trees bloom pussy spirit starts buzzing, and you know rodeo season is upon you again.

it was a hot night at the cow belle and the people even hotter as you scoped the scene from the rim of your glass. you and your friends were perched at the bar, daisy dukes heightened and crop tops tied under your busts.

"i heard red devil rosie'd be here tonight," savannah whispers to your group from beside you, her tall dark legs relaxed with her arm resting on the wood behind you. she always had a bit of a thing for redheads, and she'd had her eyes on rosie ever since it got around that she'd broken up with her fiancee.

"jesus, sav, the poor girl just got heartbroken, now you already wanna jump her bones?" charlize laughs, taking a hard swig of the beer in her hand. standing at a solid five feet and four inches tall the little kentuckian was a handful, always the first in line to ride a mechanical bull or jump in the front of a line dance.

"whats that saying men always use? as soon as you lose one hop on a 'nother?"

"you are deplorable."

as the girls banter back and forth your eyes focus on the rising commotion at the front of the bar. with a slight rise on your toes, making sure not to scuff your boots, and you can't help the growing smile on your face when you spot that blonde hair pushed down by her signature brown stetson.

abigail anderson, the rodeo's angel. she'd only been in the circuit for under two years and sponsors were lining up and begging for her to go pro. it was always easy to spot her, frequently trailed by her already professional friends manny alvarez and owen moore, along with a handful of groupies begging her to look their way.

luckily for you, manny had flirted with you a few weeks back and remained friendly after you turned him down, and he was heading straight towards you while his friends headed to a booth.

"oh god, hide your wives and girlfriends, the buckle brood is here!" he laughs, thanking the bartender for his beer and taking a swig.

"whatever manny, you're just upset our darling here didn't give you a chance." savannah winks.

"i think god was doing me a favor. y'know dixie's been trying to call you for about a week? the poor girls even thought about sending a bouquet. dixie. a bouquet."

"i made it clear before we slept together it would be a one-time thing. 's not my fault she wants more." you sigh.

that just makes the man laugh harder. he chats it up with charlize about how the rankings are looking when he notices how your gaze keeps wandering off, following your eye straight to-

"no."

"hm? i didnt say anything!"

"you said it with your eyes. and im gonna tell you with my mouth that you don't stand a chance. abby hates groupies." he shakes his head.

"abby, huh? i like it." manny grows exasperated as his words go in one ear and out the other. "'n and im technically not a groupie. never seen the woman in my life before now."

"well, look don't touch. or maybe don't look at all, before you put a spell on her or somethin."

you pout, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into a hug. you see abby look your way in the corner of your eye and make sure to stretch your torso just a tiny bit until you're able to feel the bottom of your shirt ride up just that much more. when you see her eyes trail down your waist you hide a smile into the side of your arm.

you let the man go with a sweet goodbye, watching as he grabs two more beers and heads over to the booth and twisting your head before you can catch the blondes gaze.

its only a few minutes later when manny comes back with wide eyes and invites you over to sit with them.

sitting across from her, you can see why people are so attracted to her. she’s big, her muscles bulging out from the sleeves in her plaid shirt. despite her size she doesn’t try to take up more space then needed; confident but not cocky.

she clearly notices your glances, and maybe even the smile on your face when one of her past flings with a girl is brought up in conversation.

“so, you’ve had girlfriends before?” you ask, stirring your cocktail with the little colorful umbrella that came with it.

“no no, don’t answer that, you’ll regret it.” owen butts in, meeting your glare. you’d never talked before, but you were pretty sure you had slept with his fiancée a few years ago. last you’d heard they’d had a baby, maybe you’d offer to babysit sometime.

“why not? are you a groupie?” abby asks.

“can’t be a groupie if i barely know who you are. so why don’t we get to know each other better. preferably in private.”

“whatever you say, darlin.”

you hear the sudden sounds of a few hoots and claps and a familiar song that they always play to get people dancing.

“why don’t you show me some of your moves, big girl?”

she rolls her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh before following you onto the dance floor.

as much as she’s trying to fight it, you can tell abby is enjoying herself, learning quickly as you show her the moves to the dance. you’re a bit surprised she doesn’t know it already until she tells you she’s originally from utah.

“what, they don’t have country bars out in salt lake.”

“no, not like this. at least i never went to any of them.”

“wellll if you ever need a tour guide i’m available. whenever you want me.”

“god, manny told me about you.”

“really? what’s he say? i can probably guess.”

“so you know everybody thinks you’re a playgirl who sleeps with cowgirls for damn near a living and you don’t care?”

you shrug. “‘m just young and having fun. maybe everyone else, including you, is too uptight.”

“oh really? and what, you're supposed to help me loosen up?” she raises a single eyebrow. you don't answer, deciding to just look at her face for a while.

you like how pretty she is. the soft blue of her big eyes, the freckles dotted across her face that trail down her neck and disappear into her shirt. you feel pride in your chest when you see her cheeks redden.

when the song ends you pull away from her, ready to go over and tell your friends goodbye when a large hand grips your wrist, tugging your body back to its previous position. before you can question her you feel the weight of her hat sitting on your head.

"well? you gonna answer my question?"

you can still remember the looks on your friends face's when abby told them she was heading home, still gripping your hand. manny looked like he had just seen pigs fly.

it was hard to ignore the way she didn't let go of you until she was driving or the looks she was giving you when she was looking at the road, or how desperate she was when you finally got her here, dragging you to her room and attaching her strap like she'd die if she didn't get you in bed.

"i don't see what the big fuss is about, this really isn't that hard." you tease her, admiring the way she whines when you refuse to let her wrists go from your hands, using all your strength to keep her from flipping you over

but maybe you should learn when to shut your mouth because she roughly starts bucking her hips, smiling at the euphoric look on your face before you hide your face in her neck, trying and failing to muffle your moans.

"what? i thought you said this was easy?" she laughs when she hears your muffled groan, failing to ignore when you roughly bite her. you can tell she's getting frustrated at being restrained, her hands clenching into fists and repeatedly trying to get them from under your hands. "fuckin - cmon, baby, lemme help you."

god, she was so cute. you'd never say it out loud but you liked all the little nicknames she gave you, the gentle kisses she would place on your skin when she was warming you up for her. if you didn't have a one-time policy you would have chosen to keep her around. just for a little while.

but you could also see the inner turmoil in her eyes, the battle between dominance and submission. when you first met her you thought she'd be a stone top, so you decide to take advantage and reach one of your hands up to her hair and pull, forcing a loud moan from her as her mouth gaped open.

"not so uptight now, are you?" you laugh, awwing at her when she lets out a small whine.

you didnt realize until it was too late that it was a mistake to underestimate her because she was attaching her hands to your hips, planting her feet on the bed, and thrusting up into you like a wild bull, sucking a mark into your chest like she can't see you struggling to breathe.

"yeah, that's it. not so easy now, is it darlin'?"

and oh how you hate how you can't answer her, only able to muster up a weak glare as the pleasure grows, feeling the burning heat gross in your stomach. you're trying to hold off, not ready for this to end just yet, and hating the satisfied look on her face when your shaky arms wrap around her neck.

"you gettin' close, baby?" she maneuvers your legs to spread wider, hitting that spot inside you at just the right angle. god, everything feels so hot and overwhelming and so damn good-

"that's it, show me how pretty you look cummin around me." once she reaches a hand down and roughly rubs your clit it's over, moaning and gasping her name as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. she never stops her movements, in fact, you think she goes harder once she feels your nails dig into her arms.

your head flops onto her shoulder, basking in your post-orgasm bliss as her large hands rub up and down your back. mind hazy, you feel yourself drifting off and giving yourself a mental pat on the back when you're shocked upwards by a fierce thrust from below you, wide eyes darting to abby's.

"what, ya thought we were finished? if you wanna claim me you gotta earn it, bunny."

"oh no, abby i cant-" you try to decline, not sure you can take another before she presses you back into her sheets, manhandling your legs over her shoulders and your arms under your back. she can tell you're about to fight it because she's pushing her strap into you again.

it's embarrassing how close you are already after a few minutes, unable to move as she splits you open in a damn mating press. trying to hide your face in the sheets is futile so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with her, which only brings you closer to the edge because she's looking at you like she wants to fuck you until she physically can't anymore.

she's quieter now but you can hear her mumbling under her breath about how 'you're too damn fine, jesus you're gonna be the death of me,' and the next thing you know you're both cumming, feeling the wet mess grow between your legs.

she sinks into you, boneless on top of you as she gently rubs at your sides as you do the same for her head. after a few minutes she gets up, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips at your soft whine at the strap leaving you before heading off to the bathroom to get a washcloth.

it's gentle as you both clean the other, softly trailing the rag down her arms as she observes you. its almost...domestic. which you haven't done in quite a while. it feels nice.

when she gets up to throw it in the hamper you reach for your clothes on the floor before she questions you.

"excuse me, what do you think you're doin?"

"uhh...leaving?"

"nope, bad manners if i let you go home now," she tosses you a shirt from one of her drawers, finding her own pajamas before flopping on her bed. "i don't know what kinda girls in the circuit you've been seein', but I'm not like that."

you're on the fence, rubbing the fabric of her large shirt before putting it on and settling in next to her. it couldn't hurt just to sleep with her, right? "fine. but you should know i don't normally do...this."

"me neither. but there's a first time for everything, right?" she smiles, rubbing your hip from over the shirt before trailing it under. "besides, maybe we can go again in the morning. still need to prove to you I'm not uptight."

thank god for dolly parton.

sorry if this is shorter than expected i feel like death. can we all do rodeo!abby this summer. pretty please.

taglist : @euphternal @jupiter-502 @vqxen @youcallmeconnor @andersonlore i love you guys im giving you kisses rn

[minnies-puppydoll]

Lucky’s KinkMas Event!

Join me for the 12 days of KinkMas with Twelve different filthy fics! 🐶

Take a look at the Menu!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•*.•*

12/01 ~ Snow Bitten •.*❄️

summary: you beg chan to play in the snow with you, but who knew it would be that cold? but don’t worry, he’ll always be there to warm up his favorite little girl.

tags: daddy kink, caretaker roles, praise, comfort, more coming soon….

12/04 ~ Gift Wrapped~*🎁

summary: what’s the best way to spend time with your lover if you aren’t tied up? minho found a new skill to teach his viewers, and you just so happen to be the test dummy.

tags: hard dom!minho, bondage, camming, vibrator, more tags soon….

12/07 ~ The Real Present . *💐

summary: you notice how stressed out changbin has been recently about christmas planning, and you just want to show him how much you appreciate him and give his beautiful body a break.

tags: body worship, cum eating, hickeys, more tags soon….

12/09 ~ Galaxy of Lights •*.🎄

summary: your boyfriend, hyunjin, takes you on a romantic date to see the christmas lights. but, while driving, he has so many words to say to you, and so many things he wants to do.

tags: car sex, semi-public, oral fixation, confessions, more tags soon….

12/11 ~ Goodnight Moon~*🌙

summary: your boyfriend, jisung, wants to stay up till midnight to see santa, but he needs something to keep him awake and occupied till midnight.

tags: cum eating, overstimulation, ruined orgasms, more tags soon….

12/14 ~ Red Nose}~*.•🦌

summary: a harmful argument with your lover, felix, ends in a flurry of words you both didn’t mean. you make up on christmas eve of all days, and your body can’t deny how much you’ve missed him.

tags: dacryphilia, facefucking, slight angst, degredation, more tags soon….

12/16 ~ Broken Toys >•<*.🐶

summary: you’ve been planning this scene with seungmin for a while, and when a secret present is given to you, he’s fully set on making sure you enjoy your christmas eve.

tags: mean dom! seungmin, puppyplay, slapping, more tags soon….

12/18 ~ Home for Christmas .*🚪

summary: you miss jeongin so much, he’s been away from home for too long on a travel job reporting overseas. when he comes back home unexpectedly, he takes back what he’s been missing.

tags: news reporter!jeongin photo exibitionism, pent up sex, more tags soon….

12/20 ~ Elf on the Shelf~*💫

summary: bangchan decides to bring over his friend to spice up your night, and seungmin decides to show him how it’s done.

tags: seungchan doms, facefucking, kinda gay, more tags soon….

12/22 ~ Christmas Cookie*•.•🍪

summary: you’re single, so your two best friends spend the night on christmas eve. jisung brung some films, and felix made some snacks, but both felt like they had alterior motives.

tags: aphrodisiacs, porn use, kinda gay, oral sex, more tags soon….

12/24 ~ Silver and Gold >•<*☃️

summary: your dom, lee know, is just helping his maknae lose his virginity, and you happen to be the testing doll he uses.

tags: leashes, hair pulling, instructed sex, more tags soon….

12/25 ~ Winter Studies•.*🌨️

summary: hyunjin needs some anatomy references, but he can’t draw while fucking you himself..so when changbin walks in on you modeling for his pictures, he figures it’s the perfect opportunity to get some muscle references too.

tags: exibitionism, very gay, messy asf, anal sex, more tags soon….

[artssslut2]

New Normal

Dilf!Art x Reader

Summary: A lazy morning with Art Donaldson.

You and Art became inseparable soon after you started dating, well as inseparable as you could be while Art was raising a five year old. You had met Lily for the first time a while ago and she loved you, she called you her best friend, it was the sweetest. Nowadays you and Lily would spend more and more time together.

However you never slept over when Lily was with Art. You didn’t want her to be confused or get too used to you being around all the time. Even though Art was sure you were it for him. He was a father first and a great one. Tashi had Lily most weekends - when she wasn’t out of town coaching, but this weekend she was home and had their daughter. Art always misses Lily so much, but it was nice to have some alone time with his girlfriend. You stayed over since Thursday, it was amazing. Art was so romantic and caring. It was like you were royalty anytime you were around him.

You rolled over in the morning still groggy from waking up, you saw your boyfriend laying next to you admiring you sweetly

“Hey sleepyhead” Art whispered tucking hair behind your ear. You smiled and kissed his hand as a response “think about how great it will be when you live here.” He hinted curling up next to you

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled with a raspy sleep voice “when’s that gonna happen?” Art looked at you lovingly and took a breath

“Soon, when I propose.” He winked, your heart started pounding and you felt 100% awake. You loved art and wanted a future together, you knew this talk would come but it caught you off guard in a good way.

“Yeah?” You asked with an enormous smile that made Art return the smile

“Yeah” he chuckled “if you’d want that” he followed joking around because he knew the answer. You nodded enthusiastically and he laughed then you laughed crawling up into his lap giggling like a kid

“I just… gotta talk with Lily and come up with a plan so that she feels good, I don’t want her to feel left out or anything.” He told you in his concerned dad mode. You loved seeing him as a father, watching him worry about his little girl made your heart melt

“You’re a really great dad, you know.” You smiled, he let out a soft exhale and smiled slightly, you felt butterflies in your stomach before asking him what’s on your mind “D-do you… want to be a dad again?” You asked shyly. You were young and still wanted more kids, surprisingly it’s something you hadn’t talked about. You couldn’t read his face and started to panic a little “maybe… later on like someday?” You continued nervously. Then a smile spread on his face and a tear formed in his eye

“Yeah. Yeah I would love that.” He said wiping a tear before it could fall.

“Baby are you okay?” You asked holding his face and he just continued smiling

“Of course I’m okay. I just never thought this would happen to me… I thought I was done with that stuff I felt kind of I don’t know unlovable. I’m thankful for Tashi but that marriage took everything out of me. But when I met you. Baby when I met you everything changed, I felt so alive again for the first time in so long. I love you so much y/n.” He said teary eyed. You hadn’t seen art this emotional. It made you tear up too, watching Art learn to love himself again was one of the greatest things to watch.

“Art you deserve the world. You the greatest partner and father and role model, I’m in awe of you everyday. I want to help give you the marriage and life you deserve.” You touched your forehead to his.

“I’m gonna give you everything.” He said kissing your forehead and then you passionately. Then he felt his phone go off. He wouldn’t normally pick it up when he was spending time with you but since it could be about his daughter he did. He looked at it with slight disappointment

“Tashi has to catch a flight she needs me to go pick Lily up.” He told you. He wasn’t upset, it’s not that he didn’t want to pick up Lily. Not that at all, he just hated seeing Tashi choose work over their daughter more and more. He never wanted Lily to feel how he felt.

“Oh, do you want me to head out ?” You asked understandingly

“No… come with me. Lily will be happy to see you.” He told you putting a shirt on. You wouldn’t go with him on drop offs or pickups you tried staying out of the day to day routine. “You sure?” You asked

“Absolutely. Gotta get used to the new normal.” He smirked buckling his belt. Your heart fluttered and you nodded.

You and Art got to Tashi’s about thirty minutes later, Art went up to the front door and didn’t even get half way there before Lily burst through the door and ran straight into his arms, it made you smile and think about what a good man he was. He put Lily in his hip and then met Tashi by the door. They talked for a minute and then Art gestured towards his car and Tashi gave a quick wave in your direction. Then the door shut and Lily and Art were on their way to the car.

“Y/N!!!” Lily greeted excitedly leaving from the backseat to give you a hug,

“Lily!” You returned and Art smiled

“Y/n are you coming home with us?” She asked with the same scrunched up smile her dad had

“Yes of course I am!” You matched her energy and she was ecstatic “we’re gonna stop at Starbucks first though right?” You asked leaning towards Art and he gave you a smile

“I guess so” he said playfully as you have Lily a wink and she laughed.

You couldn’t wait to officially be apart of their family, they were your world.