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sinswithpleasure · 6 days

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The After School “Student Bonding Experience”

------------------------- Pairing: NingNing x Winter Part 1 || Part 2 || <?> Also available on AO3! ------------------------- A/N: A big thank you to @majorblinks, @iznsfw, @msafterhours, @i-am-lifeform24, and @capslocked for the help in this draft, from beta-reading to being just generally an advice column. This was massively fun to write. -------------------------

Yizhuo doesn’t know when it started, but it’s been nothing but natural for both her and Minjeong to climb onto Yizhuo’s bed with Yizhuo’s laptop already logged in to Pornhub every time they have their weekly sleepover. Both girls make quick work of their clothing—Minjeong drops her shorts at the foot of the bed, and she has her thin singlet in her right hand now, throwing it on top of her shorts. Yizhuo does the same with her clothing—her pajamas are discarded at the foot of the bed as both Minjeong and her get comfortable with the many pillows on the bed. Minjeong already has a hand lazily circling her clit, soft breaths escaping her lips as she looks at the erotic thumbnails on the screen.

“What do you wanna watch?” Yizhuo asks, unsure where to look, between her laptop, and Minjeong’s body. “I’m fine with anything.”

“Oh, that looks really hot.” Yizhuo looks at where Minjeong’s pointing, and at the end of her finger, a preview of a schoolgirl in uniform grinding against a table playing on the screen. She clicks on it, and both girls start to get comfortable, leaning back on the pillows behind them. On the screen, the camera follows a schoolgirl, dressed in a typical Japanese-style high school uniform, entering an empty classroom. Eventually, exposition starts—both girls are entranced by the story unfolding in front of them: it’s quiet hours after school, and the girl wants to try something new.

It doesn’t take long for the action to begin. When the girl on the screen begins to unbutton her blouse, exposing her small chest encased in a white bra, Yizhuo hears Minjeong sigh next to her, and she turns her gaze over to her best friend, whose gaze is fixed on the screen, watching in rapt attention. Both of her hands are busy now, with her right still circling her clit, but her left now beginning to palm a petite breast. The throb of need deep in Yizhuo’s core surprises her—she admires how hot Minjeong looks next to her, and she looks away, heart pounding. It’s not even anything much—she’s just softly fondling herself—and yet Yizhuo’s already so wet just watching. She can’t believe herself. What is this—

“Hey, what’re you dreaming about?” Yizhuo jumps when Minjeong elbows her. “She’s about to masturbate! Quit that and watch it with me!”

Guilt festers in Yizhuo’s heart when she realizes she’s thinking lustfully about Minjeong again. She pushes it aside almost instantly to focus on the video, and she’s greeted with a hot sight—the girl on the screen has lost her blouse and bra, and the skirt she has on has the hem shoved into the waistband on the front, with her panties on full display to the lens, a wet spot already visible on the front. Yizhuo watches as the girl softly plants her clothed mound onto the surface of the table, right at the corner, and she begins to grind against the surface, moaning in pleasure.

A rush of slick flows from Yizhuo’s core as she admires the girl on screen. It’s there that she realizes something that makes her bite her lip in surprise and arousal—the actress on the screen vaguely resembles Minjeong, especially the body. She glances over to double check, and she softly moans when she confirms her suspicion, her core throbbing again. The girl next to her and the girl on the screen might as well be the same person, at least neck down, and Yizhuo feels a rush of wetness coat her fingers when she rubs against her sex, teasing the entrance with two fingers. In her head, it’s Minjeong on screen now, grinding her clothed pussy on the table in her uniform skirt. Once again, Yizhuo’s eyes roam next to her, and she can’t stop looking at Minjeong now, with her fingers plunging into her hole, soft moans of pleasure escaping her open mouth as she teases her nipples with her other hand. The girl on the screen is doing that as well, and Yizhuo just feels dizzy hearing the sounds of sex around her—two sets of moans from Minjeong and from the speakers of her laptop, as well as the slick sounds of Minjeong’s fingers plunging into herself.

The burning need that sears through her body prompts her to mirror Minjeong’s actions—she pushes her fingers into her hole, and she begins to match her best friend’s pace. The moan she lets out is obscene, and she can’t stop her vocalizations of pleasure when she pulls her fingers out, the friction of her digits rubbing against her walls just so delicious. On the screen, pseudo-Minjeong is furiously grinding down on the table now, unabashedly moaning as she pushes herself closer and closer to orgasm, and the real Minjeong next to Yizhuo is in a similar state. With every thrust of her fingers into herself, she’s moaning, writhing, hips bucking to fuck her own hand as she watches the porn video, and her shoulder lightly brushes Yizhuo’s every time she moves. She swears she’s going crazy—as if Minjeong’s touches weren’t enough already, she can smell Minjeong’s natural scent, and it just arouses her so much.

“Fuck, it’s not comfortable—”

Minjeong shifts herself for comfort, pressing herself right against Yizhuo’s shoulder now, instead of just the occasional contact. The direct touch only sends her into a frenzy internally—Minjeong feels so warm to the touch, and she just smells so nice, and it all goes straight down to her leaking core, her juices flowing freely from her hole. Yizhuo swears she’s staining her bed, but she doesn’t care—she’s so turned on, and she can’t stop staring at Minjeong now, the video akin to a forgotten relic at this point. The mix of emotions and sensations is overwhelming—anticipation, guilt, arousal, joy, and fear all wash over Yizhuo in waves, but she can’t stop herself, won’t stop herself from getting off to Minjeong.

“Oh, f—ngh, Ningie, shit!”

Minjeong’s moan of Yizhuo’s name sends a spike of shock and arousal straight to the Chinese girl’s heart and core. She turns her head slightly, and she meets the half-lidded eyes of her best friend, face flushed in red.

“I’m getting close, Ningie, I’m so close to cumming…” Minjeong’s hot breath mingles with Yizhuo’s soft moan, their lips just inches from the other’s. It drives Yizhuo wild—she’s so wet knowing that she could just kiss Minjeong right now, just—

“Me too.” Yizhuo’s shaky voice betrays all of her emotions—she does not sound as calm as she wants herself to sound. However, Minjeong’s too far gone to even notice.

“Ningie, let’s cum together, I wanna cum with you, I wanna cum together with you, I wanna cum together with you Ning, cum with me, cum with me!”

Yizhuo doesn’t even have time to announce her orgasm—it hits her like a truck. Flashes of white take her sight from her, her ears ringing with Minjeong’s words, begging her to ‘cum with me’. In her haze, she thinks she knocks her head against Minjeong’s—she’s not sure at all. What she’s sure of, however, is the sensations of her pleasure exploding outward—it’s hot, it’s wet, and it leaves Yizhuo feeling sticky afterward. In between the flashes of white, glimpses of Minjeong wracked with pleasure next to her as she moans unabashedly, her hips jerking as she grinds her palm down on her clit, prolonging the fleeting pleasure of her orgasm. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible: both girls are so close together, with Minjeong leaning against Yizhuo, the latter so acutely aware of how their heads and shoulders touch, of how good Minjeong smells, of how they’re moaning almost into each other’s mouths, of just how damn close they are.

She wants to melt into Minjeong.

However, that’s impossible, and the best Yizhuo can settle for is watching Minjeong pull her slick fingers out from between her legs, bringing them to her mouth. She watches with unbridled lust as her best friend parts her lips, and she takes her cum-drenched fingers between them, tongue darting out to lick her juices off of her digits, softly moaning at her own taste. Minjeong’s just as messy as she is, strings of slick clinging between the gaps of her fingers as she takes each one into her mouth. Almost unconsciously, Yizhuo’s doing the same now, mirroring Minjeong, tasting her own tangy cum coating her fingers. The fire in her lights up again, and she wishes she was the one licking Minjeong’s cum off of her fi—

“Hey, Ningie…”

Minjeong’s voice is raspy, sultry. Her hot breath brushes against Yizhuo’s ear and cheek, and the way she sounds all goes straight to Yizhuo’s core. Right after what might be the Chinese girl’s most world-shattering orgasm yet, she’s ready to go again just with Minjeong’s sexy voice whispering right into her ear.

“We should do this together.”

“Wha—What?” Yizhuo’s eyes must be bugged out in shock right now. The world almost seems to stop around her, and she thinks she’s broken—there’s no way Minjeong just said what she said.

“I… I wanna masturbate like that in school.” Minjeong whispers, motioning at the screen. “But I…” She falters, biting her lip in nervousness and uncertainty, before she gathers the courage to finish her sentence. “I want to do it only with you.”

Yizhuo combusts. Heat explodes across her body, lust burning deep in her core and washing over her skin, all because of the beautiful girl right in front of her. She doesn’t know how to put what she wants to do in any clean terms—

Ning Yizhuo wants to fuck Kim Minjeong. But she can’t.

“W-What are you saying? We… What?”

“First day of school—well, after school—me and you stay back. Let everyone leave. It’s the first day—no one stays. Then…” Minjeong trails off, biting her lips, softly sighing. Yizhuo stares at her best friend, dizzy, dazed, unsure where to look, eyes darting everywhere, until she notices Minjeong’s hand between her thighs again, fingers curling into her hole once more. Almost instinctively, Yizhuo’s masturbating as well, something that doesn’t escape Minjeong’s notice.

“T-Then what, Minjeongie?”

“Then… Then…” Minjeong gasps, biting her lips, closing her eyes tightly in pleasure. “Then we strip down to our panties, and grind on your desk. I… We can watch each other, just like… just like this, just like now.”

The filthy words drive Yizhuo insane once again. With a loud moan, she penetrates herself with her fingers, grinding on her own clit with the heel of her palm. She sees, hears Minjeong doing the same, and they shift closer to each other on the bed, fascinated by each other now, laptop long forgotten.

“I-Is that a yes?” Minjeong’s voice is small, unsure, but still so sexy.

Yizhuo’s insane.

“Yes. Let’s… let’s do it.” The Chinese girl breathes, a whine caught in her throat when she presses against her G-spot. “Let’s do it together.”

“Mmh. Together.”

With both girls still sensitive from earlier, it doesn’t take much for them to get close to a second orgasm already. Minjeong’s grinding down on her own hand again, softly moaning every time she thrusts her fingers into herself, and Yizhuo’s hungry eyes devour the erotic sight in front of her. The very same hunger burns behind Minjeong’s eyes as well—they rake over Yizhuo’s sensual curves, over the swell of her breasts and the dark brown nubs atop the flesh, taut with arousal, across her tight tummy that she loves to show off in cute crop tops, along her long legs, her meaty thighs, and right at her core now, where Yizhuo has two fingers plunging into herself, slick dripping all over her thighs and leaking onto the bed sheet, tingles spreading across her skin when Minjeong’s eyes meet hers. Their foreheads touch now, hot breaths all over each other’s lips, moaning into each other’s mouths.

“You’re so hot, Ningie…”

Minjeong’s deep, sexy voice has Yizhuo leaking more slick between the gaps of her fingers. She’s already so close, so dangerously close to her second peak, and Minjeong is driving her crazier and crazier with every word.

“I… I love watching you masturbate. It makes me so fucking wet…”

The broken moan Yizhuo releases is sinful. Before she can even finish processing the ramifications of Minjeong’s sentences, she’s already speaking again.

“A-Am I hot, Ningie? Do you… Do you love watching me touch myself too?”

“Yes, yes I do, you’re so hot, so fucking hot, Minjeongie, I—” The words tumble out of the Chinese girl’s mouth uncontrollably. The pure honesty is just what Minjeong wants to hear, and the beaming grin on her face depicts her joy amidst her arousal.

“Good, then… then keep looking at me, keep watching me.” The Korean girl takes a short pause, biting her lip as she deliberates over her next sentence, and then she spits it out anyway, her voice shaking with uncertainty. “Keep watching me until… until we… we cum together.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, Minjeongie, f—!”

Minjeong’s words go straight down between Yizhuo’s legs, and she tries to tear away her fingers from herself. However, she’s too far gone now, with Minjeong having pushed her over the edge with that final sentence. Yizhuo never finishes her exclamation—it ends with a broken cry instead. She freezes as stars explode across her vision, and a loud scream rips through her throat as her hips buck, the tension all over her body finally snapping. With every jerk of her body, streams of Yizhuo’s juices gush out from her pussy, streaks of wetness staining her sheets as she rubs circles on her clit in an attempt to prolong the pleasure of her orgasm. Spray after spray of her cum soaks the cloth beneath her, the cathartic release she so craves finally upon her as she goes through her climax. The world around her melts away in pleasure—but in that haze, Yizhuo realizes the one thing she can’t tear herself from: Minjeong. Minjeong’s body, Minjeong’s voice, Minjeong’s words, Minjeong’s features—all of them blend together as one, the only thing Yizhuo can focus on now. The moan of Minjeong’s name that leaves Yizhuo’s lips is involuntary, uncontrolled. Yizhuo repeats it like a mantra—it’s how she tethers herself to the real world as she rides through her high.

Minjeong doesn’t last a second longer after Yizhuo. The sight of her best friend orgasming is what pushes her over the edge—Minjeong watches as Yizhuo’s hips buck, the first spray of her cum gushing from between her fingers to drench the sheets, and she sees her best friend fall to the pleasure. Immediately, she’s following suit—her scream dies in her throat, body writhing as she rolls onto her back, hips jerking with every burst of orgasmic pleasure that pulses across her body from her core. Dimly, Minjeong feels her cum drench her fingers, stream after stream of it leaking down her index and pinky fingers as she thrusts her middle and ring fingers over and over into herself to prolong her pleasure. Every brush of her clit with the heel of her palm draws more and more squirt out of her, her cum pooling between her thighs and staining the sheets beneath her as well. Both girls enjoy their orgasms next to each other, lost in the pleasure yet still so aware of the person right next to them.

Eventually, both girls do come down from their highs. Yizhuo and Minjeong lie next to each other, panting in exhaustion, minds on overdrive thinking about the other. Yizhuo swears she’s hypersensitive right now—she feels the heat rolling off Minjeong in waves, she senses every dip in the bed as Minjeong shifts, and when Minjeong’s hand brushes against her skin, hot flashes of arousal and want rush all over her again.

“Thank you, Ningie.”

Yizhuo feels the soft press of Minjeong’s lips on her cheek—

Minjeong just kissed me.

An explosion occurs in Yizhuo’s chest. Minjeong has never kissed her before. Ever. Yet now, she just does it after a mutual self-love session, as if it were nothing. What the f—?!

“Oi, Ningie, are you listening?” Somehow, Minjeong is already up and about, tugging at Yizhuo’s sheets.

“Huh—?”

“I said we gotta change the sheets! We… um, I… we made messes just now… Sorry.”

Somehow, Yizhuo finds it in her to shelve her thoughts for later. Both girls change the sheets and go for a shower, which remains chaste, as much as Yizhuo doesn’t want it to be, her ruined mind replaying instance after instance of her session with Minjeong, her body still wracked with arousal long after, even when she gets into bed.

“Goodnight, Ningie.”

“Goodnight, Minjeongie.”

Yizhuo doesn’t get any sleep that night.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #aespa smut #winter smut #ningning smut #aespa winter smut #aespa ningning smut #smut

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satninpretty · 2 years

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Can I request a crumb of daddy kink fic

thank you honey

Put me in a movie, daddy

'the green light is blinking in the corner, letting you know it's waiting for you' (part 2 here)

pairing: 60s elvis/reader or austin!elvis/reader whichever u prefer.

rating: M, minors do not interact

warnings: daddy kink, homemade porn, masturbation, dirty talk, the usual elvis stuff. you know how it is.

me: thinking about gatsby’s search for the green light and elvis’s search for love and going insane in my bedroom.

the green light is blinking in the corner, letting you know it’s waiting for you.

you’ve got your hair all silky for the occasion, pink baby doll, white panties. you’re all ready. at the end of the bed, he’s positioning your knee just right.

you’ve never seen him so meticulous. he’s primping and posing you, running back to the corner to frame you in the video camera. all those shitty movies he sleepwalks his way through and here he is, directing. in control. he hasn’t even touched you yet but you think you can see him through his pants already. the man is in his element.

“ready yet?” you ask. he tilts his head to the left, in thought. runs his middle finger over his lips.

“ok, baby.” he purrs. “lights, camera…” and the blinking green light is joined by a steady red one.

the lighting in the room is so dim you can’t really make him out, but you can see the shine of his eyes. you start to move, unchoreographed. running your hand across your collarbone, teasing the strap of your babydoll off your shoulder and back on. you crawl up onto your knees, pressing your breasts together with the insides of your arms and gazing into the lens.

“how do you want me, daddy?” you ask, your voice all breath. your knees are slippery on the cool black satin bed sheets. behind the camera, he directs you.

“show me your panties.” he drawls. you know he doesn’t want you to strip yet, he enjoys the aesthetic of the babydoll too much, so you tease the hem up over your thighs and drop it. tease it back up further. drop. “just like that, baby.” you turn around, do the same. you hear his belt buckle clinking.

“what are you doing, daddy?”

“keep going.”

he’s a natural director. you can hear him shuck his pants off and wonder why he didn’t just start without them, now the sound will piss him off every time he watches the movie back. you can just make out the change in his breath as he starts to touch himself.

very slowly you pull the nightie off, teasing it over your body and crossing your arms to remove it. and then you lay back against the pillows, let your legs drift open and then closed again.

you have convinced him to turn the AC down just a touch but it’s still very cool and the silk is cold beneath you, raising goosebumps. you slide a hand down beneath your panties, hear him suck in a breath and touch yourself very gently. you exaggerate the circles your wrist makes for the camera, to give him a better show later.

“open wider.” he reminds you from the corner.

“like this?” you whisper, your knees coming apart.

“uh huh.”

you love how he can’t control his breathing. he’s always as quiet as possible behind the camera, doesn’t want to ruin the mood of you. but he can’t control his inhales or his shaky outbreathes and you can always tell how excited he is just from the way his chest heaves. sometimes your movies can go for hours but from his breathing pattern you think tonight’s might be more trailer length.

you rub your thumb in earnest now, pressing one finger inside yourself, moving slowly but firmly. he can’t seem to decide whether he wants to watch you through the camera or through his own eyes and in the shadows you can see he’s leaning against the wall with his free hand. you try to watch his other hand but it’s too dark, so you have to imagine the rhythm he’s using on himself, try to mimic it. it always makes you sigh to watch him bring himself off. you wonder for a moment - but not for the first time - what it says about you both that this is your sex, that this is your favorite thing to do. to be intimately together but ultimately alone.

you stop thinking, you aren’t satisfied with imagining.

“i can’t see you, daddy. i wanna see.” you don’t really need to beg but you know he enjoys it. “please, daddy. i need to see.”

“you need to see what you do to daddy?” he’s trying so hard to be quiet but he’s never been very good at that. he steps into the light and gives you what you want, big hand moving slowly on his cock. “jus’ look at what you’re doing to me.”

you slow down your own rhythm to match his and, like it always does, watching him brings you to orgasm so quickly it surprises you. it shouldn’t, after all this time, but it does.

he won’t ever finish on camera. he’s too smart for that.

the green light goes off.

#elvis presley #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #austin!elvis smut #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis smut #asks #my writing

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acourtofidiots · 1 year

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since I forgot Barbara last night, here’s what I would think Barbara would do when you touch yourself without permission

cw: smut, sex toys, dom/sub dynamics, semi-public sex, voyerism, exhibitionism

Babs would definitely make you wear a pair of vibrating panties while you’re out and about with other Batfam member or another trusted friend (like Kon, Kory, Roy, etc., but let’s go with Kon for this scenario)

You would whine insistently when she hands you the panties and instructs you to keep them on but one firm look your way has you pouting but pulling the panties on under your dress.

For the first hour, it’s not so bad. The vibrations are kept on low and you could easily tune them out while you’re at the club and grinding up on Kon.

But when a stranger starts being overly flirty with you, you could feel the vibrations kick up a notch and it took all your willpower to stammer out an apology and stumble out of the club, with the Kryptonian in tow.

Kon pushes you up against an alley a few blocks away, smashing his lips onto yours and grinding his hips into yours. You moan as you could feel your wetness soak your panties and drip onto his jeans, and your whining intensifies as Kon moves from your lips to nibble at your neck.

“I know princess,” he hushes you, arms firmly keeping you planted against the wall. “I know what that slutty cunt of yours needs. But Oracle gave me strict instructions to not get you off. But she didn’t say I can have my own fun with you.”

Which lead you to having your legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into the supple leather of his jacket as he thrusts his thick length into you.

“Kon, p-please,” you whimper, overwhelmed by how well he was hitting your g-spot.

He grins at you, mouth opening to respond, but was cut to the chase.

“Aw, what do we have here?” You both turn to see Tim at the entrance of the alleyway, and you flash puppy dog eyes at the vigilante.

“T-tim, please, please let me cum,” you beg as he steps towards you, the whites of his domino mask hiding the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“As much as I want to help you, Barbara gave us explicit instructions not to give into you, no matter how hard you beg.” His gaze lingers on your chest, on how your tits were bouncing within the confines of your dress.

You're gave a frustrated growl in return, looking up at the wall behind the two men to see a camera pointed directly at you. No doubt it was Barbara who was behind that lens. So you decided to take advantage of it.

“Please, miss,” you whine, biting your lip and flashing a sultry look at the camera. “Please let me cum. I-I’m sorry for disappointing you. I-shit I promise I’ll be a good girl.” You could feel your walls start to clench around Konner’s cock inside you, teetering on the edge of bliss.

Tim hums before tracing a hand down below to rub slow circles over your throbbing bud. “Babs said..she thinks that you can come, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to be done when you get back to her place.”

And with that, you explode, waves of pleasure overwhelming you. The two men before you help you through it, never ceasing their moments until Kon’s thrusts become sloppy as his own orgasm courses through him.

They pull back and help you regain your balance on your feet before turning you to face the fall and bend you in half before gripping your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, undoubtedly showing off your abused pussy to Barbara. You could feel the cocktail of your releases trail down your thigh, and all you wanted was for Barbara to clean it up, to lick you clean until you’re cumming once again on her tongue.

“Fuck,” says Tim, as he circles a finger around your hole, and you twitch in their hold. “Such a pretty sight.”

Kon hums in agreement. “She sure is. You guys are so lucky to have her.” He pauses as he helps you stand up once more. “Now, let’s go. You know how Oracle doesn’t like tardiness.”

#barbara gordon #barbara gordon smut #tim drake #kon-el #kon-el smut #conner kent #conner kent smut #konner kent #konner kent smut #tim drake smut #unholy verse #julia.writes

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cataboliac · 2 years

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Shot Through the Heart

4.4k words

Dahyun's Twice

AN: This is fully fluff! I lost a bet to @fillinforlater (seriously, how did you only end up getting your last prediction correct for the super bowl...). I did really enjoy writing the cute hottie that is Dubu, and maybe I can write something... more steamy in the future hahaha. Big thanks to @ifeelsounsure0 for making sure this fic came to fruition with all the help. And for now, enjoy the fluff!

The earliest memory you have of holding a camera was with your father. He had a Minolta X-700, a reliable and durable film camera. It was state of the art back in the ’80s. Whether it was a day in the park or a family trip, dad always had that camera on him. With it, he taught you all the basics and the neat tips and tricks not everyone knew. The most important lesson: Capture the moment before it’s gone forever.

Ever since then, you've got your own camera, wanting to blaze a trail of your own memories. It is why you find yourself now taking shots of anything under the sun for your photography degree in university.

But there’s one subject you find yourself returning to.

Every artist has a muse, a life-changing catalyst that brings the art to life. You stumbled upon her—or rather, she found you—a few weeks ago into the new semester. You could never explain how she spotted you in the sea of people—but she did, her doe eyes locking onto yours through the lens of your camera. The world paused for that tiny period between the opening and closing of the shutter.

You’ve never believed in love at first sight. But Kim Dahyun must have borrowed Cupid’s arrows, as she sent them straight through your chest and into your heart—cracking it wide open and spilling your soul out.

——————————————————————————————————————————

It’s a scorching afternoon—not a cloud to obscure the cerulean sky as the hot summer heat beats down on the numerous student-athletes scattered across the track and field. You’re at your usual spot, the first row in the otherwise vacant bleachers—nearest the action. After taking multiple shots of various objects and people, you focus your lens back to the reason why you’re enduring this torrid heat.

Dahyun draws back the string of her bow, a motion so natural to her that it seemed as effortless as breathing. Cool, calm, and collected—her intense gaze could make a statue blink. She then releases the arrow.

Not a lot of people see this, but your trained eyes see it wobble slightly in the air as the arrow sails through the wind and pierces the target circle dead center—a perfect bullseye. Robin Hood would be very proud.

She tilts her head, squinting her eyes as if she’s looking for something. Dahyun suddenly smiles and turns in your direction, waving at you with her hand. It’s still a mystery how she finds your camera instinctively.

After hearing a few words from her coach, you watch as she skips towards you. She hops over the railing and plops down next to you. “Did you take any interesting pictures today?” she asks, taking a peek over your shoulder.

You show her the last thing your camera took: Dahyun releasing the arrow just at the right moment, making it look like it's floating in midair.

“That’s so cool! It’s like you know when to take the perfect moment!”

You do, actually; it helps that having such a beautiful subject made every shot effortless. “You’re already amazing. The camera only enhances it.”

She slaps your arm playfully. “You and your stupid way with words.” Her dainty smile reaches up to her ears.

You sling the camera on your shoulder and hand a towel to Dahyun. “Anyways, you did amazing today. You’re getting better.”

“I did, didn't I? Coach says I’m hitting my peak soon,” she beams. She accepts your towel, as she has accepted all of your towels and bottles of water every time you visit.

Although Dahyun is the newest addition to the archery team, she is currently being fielded due to her raw talent with the bow. She’s a rising star in the archery world, setting new records in school, and is hoping to have a shot for the national team. Not only is she popular for her athleticism, but also her divine beauty. It’s as if Aphrodite had Artemis’ archery skills.

A growl abruptly emerges from your stomach. The two of you laugh at your stomach’s call for nourishment. “Did you skip lunch again? We can go to the cafeteria. I’m on a strict diet, but I’d be full watching you eat.” She stands up and offers her hand.

“And I’m the one with the words.”

Grabbing her hand, she pulls you up to her level. She never lets go of you as she leads you out of the stands. You feel her warm hand wrap securely around yours, and the butterflies make it worse for your empty stomach.

The two of you find a table after buying some food. Dahyun is about to lean her head on your shoulder before you block her with a hand.

“You’re still sweaty from standing under the sun for so long,” you tease.

She pouts, tugging the collar of her jacket and taking a quick sniff. “But, I smell good.”

You catch yourself before you can say “I know” out loud. Dahyun laughs at your attempt to stave off the heat that spreads across your cheeks. You don’t protest this time as she again leans on your shoulder.

Dahyun always managed to look fresh, as if sweat was just cold water sticking to her skin. That, and she’d always smelled so fragrant. You'd think that it’s probably that flowery perfume of hers or maybe some magical fruity lotion. Or it could be that Dahyun won the genetic lottery and was blessed that nothing won't ever get in her way, not grime, not sweat, not anything.

Dahyun is a timeless beauty; you can’t be the only one in the university that sees it, or else she’d be someone else’s muse. It doesn’t help that she’s immensely popular around the school. But looking into her dazzling eyes shoots down the doubts that loom in your mind for now.

"You haven't touched your food. Are you okay?" Her voice anchors you back from your reverie, Dahyun's hand lightly cupping your chin.

“Yeah, I think I’m just really hungry. Let’s go eat.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Dahyun brings you the news the next day. She's being sent to an intense training camp that will last one month before one of the biggest archery meets in the country. Which would mean that you couldn’t see her for 30 days. You don’t think it will be long, but you try to avoid talking about it if you can. It’s become taboo to talk about it—perhaps it was your way of coping with the thought of not seeing her for a month.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, bad news comes the day before she leaves.

“Coach suggested cutting all forms of communication.”

You raise an eyebrow. The magnitude of what Dahyun just said is not yet hitting you. Or maybe it’s your refusal to understand it.

“She says it’s important that I completely focus on training if I want to make the national team.” Dahyun looks out to the tangerine sky, kicking up her legs that dangle on your dorm’s rooftop.

“It’s so stupid! It doesn’t make any sense,” she suddenly shouts, louder than her already usual loud voice. She took the words right out of your mouth.

But the logical side of you understands her coach. You want her to aim for the stars, and eventually she’d hit the moon. Swallowing your disappointment and putting up a brave face, you double down on the idea. It's possible that waiting won’t be so bad.

“It won’t be so bad, don’t whine too much. We both know how much you’ll regret it if you don’t give it your best.”

Dahyun’s mouth goes agape at your words. It’s as if you said the most offensive words.

“What the hell?! You too?” She didn't say anything after that, but it's evident that she detests the idea because, despite the loud voice, her sullen eyes say something else.

You pull her into a hug, trying to cheer her up the best way you can. It was also for yourself, an attempt to engrave the smell and touch of Dahyun in your mind that can last you the whole month without her. You feel her arms return the hug, tightening around your waist.

“Will you wait for me?” she whispers.

“Of course, I’ll wait! It’s just a month.”

“That’s a whole thirty days.” You feel her pout against your chest.

Pulling away for a moment, you squish her cheeks, trying to make her smile with your fingers. “You’re just making it sound longer. I’ll wait.”

You got her to agree to it, eventually.

No texts, no calls, no anything over your SNS until Dahyun gets back.

———————————————————————————————————————

The first few days without Dahyun were bearable. Half a week in, you had to set up an app to monitor screen time for your phone because every waking moment felt like you needed to check your phone for her messages.

In the weeks that followed, you started to become uncharacteristically unfocused. You’d noticed you've become more irritable, more prone to snapping even the smallest of mistakes—though perhaps you might be overthinking it.

You exit your makeshift darkroom—your bathroom— with the recent film you’ve developed. It takes a moment for you to cut the roll into thinner strips before placing them in the scanner to upload. Usually, you’d feel a sense of excitement in analyzing the details of your photos. As you skim through them, however, you feel more discouraged.

Your shots usually don't need a touch-up during editing. But the warmth, depth, and liveliness of your photographs were gone in a flash of just days. Slapping the table, you try to figure out a better solution to all of this as you try to temper your frustrations.

You never thought something as simple as waiting could be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

The clock strikes seven. You stare at your laptop screen, the picture of the sunset you just took a week ago has been sitting on the editing software for hours now. There’s something amiss among the brilliance of colors, a gaping void where emotion should be.

You frown. Even a simple sunset and you can’t get its brilliant light to come up with a decent photograph. The grimace that settles on your lips only encourages the frustration gnawing with each click of the mouse.

You’re distracted from your growing irritation when your roommate Jaesung enters your room.

“Hey, you okay? Dinner just arrived.”

“I’m fine, thanks. I just need to find a better outlet. Better things to shoot.”

“You’ve been like this for weeks now. Is it really finding a better outlet? Or maybe it’s more than that?”

You audibly sigh, shrugging as you twirl in your swivel chair.

“I know you haven’t seen or talked to each other in weeks, but you have to find something to distract yourself. Clearly, wallowing in your sadness isn’t doing you any good.”

Jaesung hits the bullseye with his statement. As much as you hate to admit it, you miss Dahyun and her absence stings more than ever.

You need to think. “I think I need to get some fresh air. I’m going upstairs.”

Jaesung frowns. “Just be back soon.”

You exit your dorm, picking up the pace, skipping up the stairs two steps at a time because the truth was staring in front of you: you absolutely missed her. The heart is an arrow; it demands its aim be true. And Kim Dahyun was a target that made your heart quiver.

————————————————————————————————————————

The bustling cityscape clears up your ideas, whether it's daybreak, nighttime, or high noon. The gentle breeze caresses your face, the bright lights of the city, the sprawling urban growth beneath the mat of stars in the purple-tinted sky.

Yet, it’s not enough. Everything feels like something is missing, a certain spark. Your camera hovers over your chest, reflecting your state of indecision and demotivation.

All you can think of is Dahyun—her loud laughter against the white noise of the rush-hours; her smile, that outshines the brightest of stars; her warm breath against her cheeks and neck when she teases you playfully; and all the kinds of shivers that run down your spine that make every moment magical.

The last few weeks without her have made you utterly lost. All you could think about is what she must be doing, and how you wished she was still here. How long has it been? Two weeks? Three?

You wonder if Dahyun ever feels the same loneliness that embraces you every night.

You offered Dahyun nothing but company when you asked her if you could be friends with her. There’s nothing for her in it, no free food, coupons, or even the guarantee of a good company. You felt like a nobody, compared to someone like Dahyun.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think of yourself as a hindrance to the rising athlete. The time Dahyun spends with you should be used for her training; she has massive potential no one can deny she’s the perfect combination for success.

Without you, Dahyun would continue to thrive. But without Dahyun, you wouldn’t. Not without your muse.

It turns out not even a quick escape to the rooftop is helping. Feeling a bit defeated, you decide it’s best to return to the dorm.

As soon as you open the door, Jaesung starts to call for you. “They’re doing a quick feature on Dahyun for next week’s competition! Hurry up!”

You rush back to your room to grab your camera. Making a mad dash for the dinner table, you return just in time. You look wide-eyed into Jaesung's laptop; Dahyun in her standard white and red zip jacket emblazoned with the school logo, her blond hair tied in a ponytail, unmistakable with her gummy smile. She stands against a packed gym under the bright gymnasium lights while the reporter poses her question.

“...You are against tough competition. Expectations are very high for you despite this. The pressure must be intense. How are you feeling?”

Dahyun smiles in a heartbeat and looks at the camera. “My coach and school train their athletes very well. My teammates were also very supportive and gave me pointers. I’m feeling great.”

You snap a picture of her, smiling with your muse on the screen.

“We’ve received reports that you’re gaining popularity fast not only in the city but in the region as well.” The interviewer continues. “I take it you have a growing number of followers. Do you have anything to say to the people waiting for you back home?”

“Well, she is pretty and popular.” Jaesung comments, which earns him a slap to the back of his head.

Dahyun’s eyebrow perks, and her gaze averts from the center of the camera. It’s a known fact that she is most comfortable under the spotlight, whether she’s in the middle of a crowd or the field. Her sudden uneasiness is quite suspicious, and you don’t miss it; you tried not to miss anything about Dahyun, no matter how small.

Dahyun looks back at the camera before the reporter can ask her again, the wide, confident smile back on her face.

“I know you’re cheering me on. Thank you. Wait for me. I won’t disappoint you.”

The screen fades to another young athlete’s interview, Baek Jiheon, from another nearby university.

You thank Jaesung, who pats you on the back as he continues to watch the segment.

You’re reminded why Dahyun is her muse, and it’s a choice you’ll stick with through the end.

——————————————————————————————————————————

On the day of the competition, your mind is in shambles.

The competition is broadcast online on the university Youtube channel, arranged by the university for the students to watch. Classes just finished. The school is abuzz with the news of Dahyun’s big day. You rush back to the dorm with Jaesung and a couple other friends, eager to watch her in action.

Everyone gathers in the living room, surrounding Jaesung’s laptop. The atmosphere is electric, some of your friends brought out some drinks, as if watching the Super Bowl.

The broadcast finally starts, and everyone turns silent, bringing their full attention to the laptop.

Even if it’s just through the screen, the pressure inside the stadium is palpable. The camera zooms in and out, panning in all directions to show the venue, the sizable crowd, and athletes.

“There she is!” Jaesung shouts out.

The camera zooms in to Dahyun stretching, taking deep breaths, her hair neatly tied back in a high ponytail. She’s wearing the school’s black and red tank top and black uniform pants, showing off her slender bare midriff, lean, broad shoulders, and strong legs. She makes eye contact with the camera, bows to the crowd, then suits up in the rest of her all-black varsity livery.

“She gained more muscle mass. And she’s… leaner.” You observe out loud. If you compared Dahyun’s picture from the previous month and how she looks now, it would look like half a year’s worth of exercise. How rigorous was the training?

Dahyun’s opponent is Son Chaeyoung, another rising star in the archery scene. They both bow to each other before heading to the shooting zone. The commentator remarks on each athlete’s personal best and brief history. But the words fly over your head; you’re too nervous for her, praying to God that Dahyun will be okay. You understand how important this is for her. But her stoic face slightly reassures you that she’s got this.

A whistle signals the start of the best of three shootout. The first set went to Son Chaeyoung, edging out Dahyun narrowly by two points. Dahyun however was not bothered by the do-or-die round, besting her opponent in the second set. It was now sudden death for both women for the third round. The tension goes through the roof.

Chaeyoung begins the third set by shooting the first arrow into the nine-point circle ring. Not to be outdone, Dahyun’s arrow sails into the nine points as well.

“Nine points for both women, what an amazing display of composure from both competitors.” the commentator says.

Chaeyoung’s second arrow finds its mark again at nine points. Dahyun’s second attempt also nets her another nine points. The pressure you feel is enough to suck the air out of your lungs, gripping the edge of your seat.

“It’s now neck to neck! It might go down the wire!”

Chaeyoung’s final arrow lands onto the nine points, a total of 27 points. Dahyun needs to hit the bullseye to win the game, giving the advantage for your university. You might as well die from a heart attack from the intense showoff. The silence is deafening in the room.

But this is Dahyun, your muse. If anyone can do it, it’s sure as hell can be her.

Dahyun takes a moment to compose herself, her shoulders rising and falling with deep breaths. She draws the bowstring back, starting the point of no return. It feels like riding to the top of the tracks of a roller coaster before the deep plunge. She looks peaceful in the storm of tension. You try to shake off this weird feeling of deja vu. She lets go of the string. The hairs on your skin begin to stand. You realize why this moment feels so familiar.

It’s Dahyun in her most perfect form. It's going to hit bullseye.

It takes a second for you to realize that everyone around you had stood up, jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their lungs. You watch as Dahyun’s teammates rush over to her, collapsing into a big group hug. The camera pans to Dahyun’s target; the arrow lodged dead center of the ten-point circle.

“The first game belongs to none other than Kim Dahyun!”

You stand up, your body shaking from a plethora of overwhelming emotions. A scream of victory erupts from your vocal cords, joining in the chorus of celebration. Jaesung comes over to hug you as you both jump in place from pure euphoria. As he releases you to hug another friend, you look back to the laptop to see Dahyun staring intently into the camera. To others, it might just look like she's processing the victory.

But you know it’s that intense gaze that has pierced your heart numerous times.

The hype after her game never died down, and eventually the competition ended with your school sweeping it. Tomorrow, everyone is going to be talking about today’s events. Friends leave your dorm one by one, till it’s just Jaesung and you, sitting down in the kitchen. He passes you a can of beer, one more drink for the night.

“It actually feels like a victory for you too,” Jaesung says, downing the last of his beer.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“You’re going to get to see her again. She’s coming home.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

It’s a calm Sunday. You still haven’t slept properly, but for entirely different reasons. Your excitement kept you late at night, thinking about seeing Dahyun soon. She must be coming back right now. Or is about to be. It should be anytime soon.

The restlessness nips at the back of your head. Deciding to do something more productive, you grab your camera equipment and a recently developed photo from your desk.

You don’t know why in the world you’re bringing that photo now, but you might as well bring it along to keep yourself sane. She’s coming home anyways.

It’s around 5pm—“golden hour” for photography—when you decide to go to the rooftop. You couldn’t stay in the bedroom and do anything anymore. The open sky greets you in a haze of deep orange and rich yellow, but unlike the recent sunsets in your photos, it feels more lively as you click away with your camera.

“Do you have the perfect shot yet?” Someone shouts from afar.

Standing against the setting sun on the other end of the rooftop is Dahyun, hands cupped around her mouth. The huge grin on her lips is noticeable even from afar.

Yes, I do now.

You want to tell her to stand perfectly still while you capture the moment into your camera. But your legs start moving by themselves towards Dahyun, leaving behind your camera on the tripod. Each step matches the beating of your heart. She starts to run towards you too. The two of you stop within a few feet from each other.

“Hi.” You never heard her voice crack before, as you watch a single tear slide down her face and pass that flawless smile of hers.

It takes every ounce of strength to say anything. You can’t believe she is right in front of you now. “Hey.”

In quick strides, you encircle your arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning with Dahyun in the air. Her laugh is music to your ears as it echoes into the sky. Her arms grab hold of your neck. You slowly lower Dahyun to the ground, the adrenaline rush slowly fading away.

“I missed you, so much,” you say, cupping her face and wiping the tears off with your thumbs.

“I missed you too. So much. It felt like hell without you.” It’s real, she’s really right here with you.

You stroke her hair, almost forgetting to congratulate her. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you. I watched it with Jaesung in the dorm.”

“You and the entire school.” She smiles. “I’m just glad that’s all over, it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“Why are you here? I thought you’d be back maybe in a few more days,” you ask.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dahyun pinches your cheeks lightly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want me to say it again? I missed your face, silly.” Dahyun says so nonchalantly it makes your heart skip a beat.

You try to keep your composure up. “It’s only been a month since we last saw each other and you’re this cheesy already? Did you train to improve your greasiness too? I bet you met a lot of handsome guys.”

“How dare you insist I had met pretty boys when I was just with my bow and teammates the whole time!” She protests, her arms tugging you a bit closer to her face. “And look who’s talking, maybe in my absence you’ve found somebody else to picture, hm?”

“Why would I look for pretty girls when I already have you?” you say whole-heartedly. A blush creeps over Dahyun’s face, her look softens a bit as she leans into your hands.

“Maybe I can show how much I missed you,” she whispers.

“What do you—”

Dahyun’s hands cup your cheeks, silencing all your thought processes. Instinctively your hands glide down towards her waist. Her chestnut eyes stare at your lips before looking back up. In a blink of an eye, Dahyun’s feathery lips land on yours.

It was chaste, lips brushing together tentatively for the first time. Your eyes flutter to a close as you feel Dahyun's lips move on your lower lip. Every smack elevated your heartbeat to dangerous levels. You tightened your embrace on her, afraid you'd fly away from the butterflies in your stomach. A warmth that blossoms in you, igniting flashes of delight throughout your body. You try to place all the months of unbridled emotions you’ve been keeping into this kiss.

You both pull away for air. The two of you giggle from your actions, leaning onto each other's foreheads.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long. You have no idea,” she says.

You want to tell her everything. You realize it’s a perfect moment to show her your latest picture of her, letting it do the talking for you. A picture is worth a thousand words, and it will never be enough to capture Dahyun's ethereal beauty. You reach into your pocket for the photo, handing it over to Dahyun.

The picture shows Dahyun out of her archery gear. Her eyes closed as she basked in the nature around her. The background of pleaching trees makes beams of light pass through. Her gummy smile, her slender neck, her porcelain skin—some of the many highlights that made Dahyun effortlessly beautiful. A subtle focus on Dahyun makes her look even more lifelike, her infectious smile radiating from the picture.

“You're the only one who sees me like this. Am I really like this?” Dahyun asks. Her eyes sparkle like the stars that gently reveal themselves in the city’s night sky as the sun slowly sets.

“You’re my muse. You’re that and even more.”

#dahyun #twice #male reader #fluff #twice fluff #dahyun fluff

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likeastarstar · 3 years

Text

A Mutual Agreement Pt. 3

Summary: You and your boyfriend make a sex tape. lol.

(A/N: you don't need to read Part 1 or Part 2 to understand but you can if you want!)

masterlist.

You stared down at your boyfriend, hair throughly messed up from having your hands pull on it, lips cherry red and plump from kissing you, eyes slightly dazed. Yeah, this was your favorite version of Hoseok. The one without any inhibitions, the one who was yours. He stared at you with an intensity that had a shiver running down your back, a small smirk growing on his face when he noticed the reaction he had on you. You swallowed harshly and nodded to yourself, laying down on the bed you shared.

"Get the camera."

"Remind me again why we couldn't just do this on my phone?" He asked, frowning down at the handycam you bought off eBay last month.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, reaching a hand out for the camera, "Phones get hacked. Tapes can't."

"How am I even supposed to watch it? I won't have a VHS player on tour, you know." He laughed softly, shoulders freezing for a second when he noticed the crestfallen look on your face at the mention of him going on tour soon.

Nothing was planned for sure, but he was already starting to travel more. The pandemic had sucked, royally, but it had given you unlimited access to Hoseok in a way you were selfishly reluctant to let go of. It's the only reason you agreed to this in the first place- you wanted something for when you couldn't have him the way you wanted to.

You felt a light touch on your knee and looked at Hoseok, a soft look on his face. You shook your head, "Boner killer." You joked, "Give it to me."

He handed you the camera wordlessly, watching with raised eyebrows as you pointed it towards him and pressed record. You peeked through the viewfinder- a grainy, nostalgic version of Hoseok stared into the camera with the same intensity he looked at you with, your knees parted on either side of his figure where you laid on the bed. He pulled his shirt off in one motion, tossing it off to the side before scanning your body. You had lost your clothes ages ago, laying in your underwear before him.

You admired the strength of his brow through the camera lens, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his abs flexed and relaxed as he walked towards you. Nothing really compared to your boyfriend's beauty in real life, but the camera you were currently holding was giving its best shot. You nudged his hip with your knee, gesturing for him to loose the pants as well. He did so silently, neither one of you wanting to speak for a moment. Hoseok studied you face for a moment and smiled, scanning your body with his eyes.

"Don't be nervous," He mumbled, a comforting hand on your knee, "We've done this before."

You laughed softly and he took the camera from you, turning it around so it was panned down on you, hair fanned out around you, gaze pointed past the camera and stuck on Hoseok, "I really fucking love you, you know that?" He said softly, setting the camera down on the side table you had strategically tested the point of view from two nights ago.

You smiled at him and reached a hand out towards him, pulling him on top of you. Part of you is hyperaware that there was a camera recording your every movement, a small red light signaling that yeah- you guys are definitely about to make a sex tape. The larger part is just really obsessed with Hoseok and the way he feels on top of you hands warming your skin with small massaging circles pressed into your figure. He kissed you urgently, desperately, like he had been holding back until now. You feel his body melt into yours, pressing down on you until all of the anxiety in your body about the situation withered away.

"Fucking gorgeous," Hoseok mumbled. You knew it was loud enough for the camera to pick up but he said it for just for you- you could tell by the way his eyes didn't leave yours. You kissed him again and slid your tongue against his, gliding a hand through his hair and pulling the roots of it sharply. Hoseok's movements turned carnal, biting down on your bottom lip as his hands slipped under your ass and pushed upwards, shoving your center against his hardening cock. You felt him strain against the fabric of his boxers, cock twitching, and suddenly you didn't give a shit about the camera. You wanted more of Hoseok and the small breathy grunts he was letting out, harmonizing with your own light pants of want. You felt Hoseok's hand push past the waistband of your underwear, long fingers dragging through your folds. He rubbed neat circles into your clit with enough pressure that you forgot all about the glowing red dot in the corner. He pinched your most sensitive spot, making you jump slightly before he slid two fingers into your pussy, a loud moan escaping you. He curved his fingers and stretched them out again, pressing down on your walls because he knew you could take it. You steadied your breathing to the best of your ability, his warm fingers rocking and sliding back and forth with a rhythm you couldn't quite keep up with. You didn't realize you were biting down on your lip until he kissed you, taking your bottom lip between both of his and sucking lightly.

"No more of this," He grumbled against your skin, "You're gonna split your lip open and I wanna hear you, I need to be able to hear the noises I fuck out of you when I'm jacking off to this in a couple months in a hotel room."

You moaned at the thought, kissing him messily as he continued thrusting his fingers into you. The pad of his thumb pressed and rubbed against your clit, pressing down further as his fingers thrust quickly into you in a bursting motion, pulling out almost entirely just to press in again. Your hips angled up towards his hand, wanting him to stay in one place, wanting to keep him near you. He ignored you, touch staying steady despite your squirming. It wasn't long before you came, pushing your face into the crook of his neck as electricity ran through your body. The two of you moved like waves, rocking against each other with a visceral need until you placed two hands on his shoulders and shoved him over, flipping the two of you so you were straddling him. You flipped your hair over to one side so it wasn't blocking the camera's view of Hoseok's face, moving down the length of his body until your face was in front of his cock.

You kissed his lower stomach lightly, pushing the waistband down and off of him quickly. He lifted his hips to help and you flickered your gaze up to him for a second, smiling at him. "Want you so bad," You mumbled, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking it twice before sinking your lips down on him.

You loved giving Hoseok head- the noises he made, the way he looked, the salty rich taste. Everything about it was perfect. His hands instinctively buried themselves in your hair, guiding your head up and down on his cock. You kept up with him, bobbing up and down eagerly. You felt your lips stretch and ignored it, relishing in the noises Hoseok was making at the moment. He said you name like it was a prayer in a whiny tone reserved for you. Hoseok tightened his grip on your hair and held you still, snapping his hips up to your mouth, using you as he'd like. You gagged slightly but took it, wanting him to use you.

He released you quickly, lifting your mouth off of his cock and tightening his grasp instead at the nape of your neck, "Come up here," He ordered, motioning towards you with a jut of his chin. You did as he said, climbing up so that you were hovering above him, legs of either side of his torso. You grabbed his jaw in one hand and turned it up towards you, craning his head up to lock him in a fervent kiss, pulling away when you felt him start to lean forwards helplessly.

"So needy," You smiled cockily, running a hand through his hair and down to cup his cheek. You slapped his cheek lightly, laughing softly when he jumped in surprise. You brushed your thumb over his bottom lip, letting out a shallow breath when he closed his lips around the pad of your thumb. He sucked lightly, tongue snaking across the tip of your finger before nibbling on it.

Things feel different, like everything in the world is moving at a different pace than the two of you. Too fast and too slow at the same time, you had tension radiating off of your body and permeating into the air around you. You were long past coherent thoughts, only able to think about how hot you felt.

"You look so vulnerable right now," Hoseok noted, "I could do anything I wanted to you."

You nodded silently, feeling your cheeks heat up. Hoseok stared up at you with heavy intention in his eyes, wrapping a hands around the smallest part of your waist and another around his cock, lining it up to your pussy, and pulling you down on his lap in one smooth thrust.

You gasped in surprise, moaning out as you feel his length setting in you. Neither one of you moved for a moment, feeling overwhelmed for a moment. Hoseok's brows furrowed, a look of total concentration painted on his features. He tugged you down towards him, kissing down the length of your neck as if to give him something to do in the moment, arms wrapped around your back. Your hands tightened around the sheets in fists, feelings his grip tighten as he pulled off of your neck to stare at you again. You rocked against him slowly, matching his eye contact with your own. He winced when you clenched around him and went faster, beginning to lift yourself off of him.

"You feel so big like this," You moaned, letting him grip your waist to help you set a faster pace on top of him. He fucked into you from beneath, meeting the rise and fall of your hips," Shit- I feel so full."

"I'm always big, what the hell?" Hoseok laughed, dragging your hips back and forth against his.

You laughed, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. He grinned back at you and soon you were both slamming into one another. You matched his pace, fucking each other as fast as you could as he whispered things so dirty you almost hoped the camera didn't pick up on it.

"I'm gonna cum," You said, tapping his shoulder rapidly. He nodded and grasped your hip, pulling you off of him abruptly. You whined in protest, shutting up as soon as he slapped his palm against your hip, roughly positioning you on your back. He reached over you to grab the camera, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"Smile for the camera, baby." He prompted as he slid back into you. You moaned, fucking you even faster with the camera pointed down towards your face.

His free hand began rubbing your clit, keeping pace with his hips until it tipped you over, shaking underneath him. Your back arched and you wrapped your legs around him. He wasted no time fucking you into the bed, his rough fucking milking your orgasm. You clenched around him, feeling overstimulated until he slowed to a deep roll of his hips and came inside of you. He groaned sharply, throwing the camera to the side and leaning down to kiss you. Hoseok's tongue slid against yours in a wet, hot kiss, cock still buried deep inside of you.

You kissed him back, hugging him close to you until the two of you had come down from your highs completely.

"That was hot," You sighed contently as Hoseok laid his head on your chest between your breasts. You carded your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, admiring the silvery locks in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

"We should've done this forever ago. You look really sexy when you cum," Hoseok smiled against your skin, hugging you tightly. "Something that gorgeous deserves to be immortalized on film."

You frowned looking at the ceiling pensively, "I've never seen myself cum, I don't know whether you're right about that or not."

Hoseok picked his head up instantly, a slightly depraved smile on his face, "Wanna find out?"

#bts fic #bts smut #bts drabble #bts imagines #jung hoseok fic #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok fic #jung hoseok smut #hobi drabble #hobi fic #j hope smut #j hope imagine #j hope x you #j hope x reader #j hope fanfic #hoseok smut #hoseok fluff

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aravas-writing · 3 years

Note

(Secret Star AU)

Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"

Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...

She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!

She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.

Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.

Who the hell did he think she was?!

Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.

Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.

Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.

The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.

Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!

Right, she was supposed to be a raver...

Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.

...wait, how would one dance rave?

Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.

Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.

And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.

As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.

'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.

She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".

A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.

Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.

But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.

He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.

Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.

Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.

Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.

He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.

Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.

So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.

Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.

A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.

Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.

To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!

Dammit, she was so turned on!

His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.

Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...

"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.

She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!

A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.

Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...

"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"

As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.

"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"

As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.

As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.

"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"

"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.

She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...

#rwby #secret star au #cinder fall #jaune arc #rwby smut #rwby knightfall

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warmau · 3 years

Text

"i don't even like bugs."

jaemin shrugs as he shows his intern pass to the security of the front gates of the botanical garden

he mentions that you're accompanying him today as a visitor and you smile at the guard who pays you two half a gaze

"well i mean - they're butterflies not like cockroaches or anything so have some optimism?"

you don't argue, among your group of friends jaemin is kind of the symbol of optimism. sometimes it's misguided - like now - but you don't want to put a damper on his mood

after all, he's actually here to do a job

you are here on a summer assignment you have to complete for a photography elective you added to your uni program for the next semester

"nature photography" was the highlight of the project, everyone had been emailed a subject to take pictures of while off from school

you had expected maybe the beach, or flowers, or even tourists walking around in floppy hats

when you'd opened the professor's email and saw "butterflies" you had not been thrilled

but you were lucky enough to know that jaemin had scored his current internship at the botanical gardens, and while he was working with his weirdly favorite thing in the world - fungi

he could also get you access to the butterfly garden, a large indoor space for the various breeds of butterflies from around the world, before it officially opened to the public

"the pavilion is over there, i think renjun will be able to let you in."

jaemin says, pointing down a hill lined by pretty bushes that leads to a glass structure at the bottom

you turn to ask if he wants to meet for lunch, but he's already jogging in the opposite direction

you sigh, fishing your camera out of your bag - which is something you've borrowed from your parents because 'iphone photos are not allowed'

they're just butterflies like jaemin said, they're like...cute bugs.

you tell yourself as you get closer, turning the camera on and then coming to a pause in front of the glass doors that have a clear padlock on them

you loop around and try to find 'renjun' - but no one is in sight

secretly a little relieved that you don't have to go inside right away, you try to find a part of the glass structure where you can possibly get a nice shot of some of the butterflies from outside

a lot of the vines and flowers get in the way, so you struggle until finally, you find a spot that's open and peers right into the middle of the enclosed garden

you can see the butterflies, little splashes of colors that fly past you - magnificent oranges, reds, and blues

you admit they're pretty

but they're even prettier because they're not near you

and then something - no someone - comes into your frame

his narrow shoulders are engulfed by an oversized plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up by the elbows.

over the shirt is a gardening apron and on his hands are a pair of worn-out gloves

his profile is hidden by the dark hair that falls in a curtain and ends in a tickle at his jawline.

one, bright streak of bleach blonde runs through the black.

he reaches out to touch a half-bloomed flower and you watch as the butterflies float on by him

you nearly drop the camera when he turns and locks his gaze with your own

is that renjun? if so im going to kill jaemin! he didn't tell me he was so infuriatingly pretty!

without knowing how to talk to him through the glass, and because the words disintegrate in your mouth, you point to the camera

"jaemin's friend?"

oh, you can hear through the glass

"ye-yeah!"

"one second."

the sound of a click and some scuttling turns your attention toward where the door to the garden opens for a swift second, just enough for renjun to step through, before it closes again

probably to make sure none of the butterflies get out

you grip your camera and when renjun doesn't move, you make the small trip over to him

"jaemin said you're here for a project."

renjun speaks and his voice is softer when it isn't muffled through glass

"for my photography class in the fall, my subject is butterflies."

"what kind?"

your eyes get a little wider with confusion

"what kind?" you parrot

renjun's neutral expression doesn't change

"what kind of butterflies? there are over seventeen thousand species of butterflies - we might not have the species you are looking for."

"i-" you stammer, wondering for a split second if renjun is joking around, "there isn't a specific species it's just....all of them?"

renjun tilts his head as if that notion doesn't really make sense to him, but shrugs and turns toward the door again

"im going to open it quickly so just follow me."

you make a sound of agreement, but when renjun pulls the handle and steps inside.....and you can't move.

the door closes behind him with a sound that makes you jump and renjun turns to stare at you through the glass with a furrowed brow

"what are you doing?"

he doesn't bother opening the door again and you shake your head as a shiver runs through your shoulders

"a-actually is it ok if i stay out here?"

"i thought you needed to take photos?"

"i can take them from here - this lens is r-really good."

renjun doesn't seem to be buying your excuse, but he checks his watch and nods, before disappearing back into the middle of the indoor garden

you take a second to try and figure out what happened - am i scared of going inside? is it the butterflies or is it renjun?

you decide it's the butterflies.

renjun's just a boy - you aren't scared of that, but the thought of being somewhere covered with bugs

pretty bugs or not

is kind of ..... scary.

you pick your camera back up and circle back to your original spot

although renjun is nowhere in the focus, you are delighted to see some butterflies have come to nestle among the plants in view

you bring up the camera and take some shots

one butterfly is sitting directly on the leaves - big grayish, blue wings spread open and engulfed in the sunlight that shines through the glass

you zoom in on it, capturing the full expanse of the wings that stand out on the green

you get so invested you hardly notice the door open up again and then a voice speaks from behind your shoulder

"it's a pseudozizeeria maha."

you don't turn around and just stare at the butterfly still

"a wha- what?"

"a pale grass blue. they're native to south asia but are really common here too. they were first discovered by vincenz kollar, an austrian entomologist."

the sentence nearly makes you dizzy, but you thank renjun for the information

not seeing the small shy smile that casts over his lips when you do

you want to turn and show him the shot you took, but he's already stepping past you to the other side of the pavilion

the time sort of slips away from you before you can check it again and you only leave when jaemin comes jogging down from the greenery to whisk you off for lunch

"should we invite ren-"

you start, but jaemin is already twinkling eyes and nonstop talking about all the fun fungi he's spent his day with.

when you're back home you start to look through the photos you took

most of them aren't super great and the shine of the sun reflects on the glass

you know the only way you're going to get a perfect shot (or at least an acceptable one for this dumb summer project) is if you go inside the actual butterfly garden

sighing, you click to the last shot and are surprised to see that in the far left corner you see renjun's hand - gloved and in the palm of it is a small butterfly that has landed just in time for your shutter to go off

the rest of renjun is out of focus so you can't even see his, very pretty, face

isn't it weird, that he can be around them so easily and im so scared?

you zoom in a bit and wonder how nice it would have been to get a clear photo of the moment. that would be something you could definitely submit to your professor.

before any more thoughts of renjun can float through your mind, your phone pings and you look to see jaemin's contact name

did you get your shot? you can come with me on my next shift if you want to take more photos

you type back a reply before you can even think of it in your head

really? then I'll tag along :) want to take some more photos

jaemin confirms and then sends another paragraph talking about mushrooms and leaves and plants

and you giggle because he's funny and passionate, and also

guess i might see renjun again?

it's hotter than you can put into words the next time you show up at the butterfly garden

you're standing outside in the absolute sweltering heat and maybe the thought of possible colder temperatures inside the pavilion are tempting

plus - renjun is in there - he had waved at you when he saw you standing outside again

this time his apron thrown over a short sleeve shirt and some long jeans

he had motioned toward the door but you had just played off that you were ok outside. burning alive or whatever.

you found the same spot as before, wiping the sweat from your forehead before lifting the camera up in hopes of catching a good picture

but all you see through the lens was renjun, who'd taken the time to roll up the sleeves of his shirt and had seemingly abandoned the heavy apron somewhere inside

his longer hair had been clipped back and he was reaching down to heave a bag of soil up and over his shoulder

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

you are caught between taking a photo and just aiming your lens somewhere else out of embarrassment

either way, renjun doesn't seem to notice and continues working, saving you from the horror that would be seeing him turn and stare back at you

but this somehow goes on for the entire time you're there

you go to snap a photo, but renjun is somewhere in the frame

it must just be bad luck and timing

but by the time you're sitting at the garden's cafe with jaemin after his shift and you're going through your photos

all of them have renjun in them somehow

"woah i thought your project was butterflies not huang renjun's?"

jaemin jokes, sipping his iced coffee with an overly excited wiggle of his eyebrows

"shuttup - i just....it's because i am taking them from the outside, i need to figure out a way to get inside and just take the photo and be done with it!"

jaemin outstretches his hand

"gimmie your camera, ill go take one"

you snatch the camera off the table and vehemently shake your head

"no. the last time i trusted you with something expensive, you broke it in the first five minutes."

"hey! i thought ipads were waterproof nowadays like technology really hasn't come that far?"

you roll your eyes in response, to which jaemin sticks out his tongue and then claps his hands together in revelation

"why not ask renjun to take the photo?"

"because i don't know him that we-"

with a dismissive wave of his hand jaemin cuts you off

"he's not a stranger - i know him! if i know him, you know him. plus renjun is super careful and responsible - he's my age and ive already heard some of the directors talking about how they'd hire him as more than an intern if he wasn't still in university!"

wow, i mean i always got the impression he was mature, but...

"c'mon, i bet he'll say yes too! he's really nice!"

finally agreeing and promising jaemin you'll ask renjun when you come back to the garden again

you pretend the nervous feeling in your stomach is just because you don't know renjun that well

not because you also happen to think he's breathtaking to look at - and that it's going to be hell trying to explain to someone who knows so much about insects that you're too scared to go inside and take a measly little photo of them

you find yourself at home, with your laptop open, googling species of butterflies because you think you should at least pick one and ask renjun if he can possibly take a photo of that one

maybe your effort will make the conversation easier

maybe he'll like that i know the latin name for a - what was it? gonepteryx cleopatra?

of course, the next time jaemin brings you along - and abandons you with a thumbs up for his mushrooms and fungi - you are frozen still at the entrance of the butterfly garden

like a broken machine - you just re-read the sign over and over again - announcing that the garden will be finally open to the public in a week

and you nearly short circuit when someone clears their throat behind you

turning around, it's of course renjun, and he's giving you a weird look that is already making this whole situation bad

"h-hey renjun-"

"do you want to go inside with me today?"

you swallow and think you should really just suck it up and go inside. the butterflies aren't going to sting, bite, or eat you - but

"a-actually i wanted to ask you does the garden have any.....any um....gonep- um whats the word gonepetry? gonepetri? um-"

without a beat renjun finishes the sentence for you

"gonepteryx cleopatra's? no, those butterflies favor the mediterranean so getting them here is hard."

"right...well actually i was wondering"

renjun blinks

"oh and you can call them cleopatra's if you want. but unfortunately no, i don't have any in the garden."

god ok, how do i pivot this conversation...

"oh that's cute, um actually i also have a question-"

he waits expectingly and for some odd reason as the second's tick by he gets cuter and you get quieter and it is just a huge mess

and you think you should just book it and let renjun think you're a weirdo

when you finally lift up your camera and take a breath

"do you think you could take the photo of a butterfly for me?"

his brown eyes widen

"oh - like the photo for your project?"

"y-yeah. it's just......im really scared to go in there...bugs are not my thing. i know it's pathetic and they're just butterflies but-"

you look down and the sun and renjun's gaze are getting too heavy to handle

"but i just don't know if i can even focus when there are so many flying around....does that make sense?"

the beat of silence that follows is almost miserable but renjun just points behind him and says

"follow me."

the next thing you know you are trying to keep up with him as he walks past the butterfly garden and down a path hugged by greenery

it's way past where you've ever been and you ask renjun where he's going

only for him to insist you hurry up a little bit

before you know it you are both standing in front of a large, open iron gate, and behind it are rows and rows and rows of rose bushes

they range in color and size and the smell that permeates the air is so lovely you suddenly feel like you're in a fairytale

renjun leans closely to inspect a couple and then stops in front of a bush adorned in the brightest pink roses you must have ever seen in your life

"butterflies are attracted to roses, the colors are vibrant and they pollinate them."

"b-butterflies pollinate? like bees?"

renjun laughs, the sound adds to the almost dreamy vibe - with the way it sounds like the lightest piano keys

"yes and look - i can understand that you'd be scared of being inside a place full of butterflies, but here in the rose garden there are only a couple here and there."

he squats down and cups the petals of a flower with such a gentleness

you follow and are surprised to see a butterfly, with bright blue wings, nestled in the center of the rose

renjun flicks his eyes to your camera bag and you immediately understand why he's brought you here

without making too much noise you get your camera out and steady the lens - just one butterfly does not intimidate you like being in a glass, enclosed pavillion full of hundreds

so you can take the photo easily - though just as you click the shutter makes a noise and the butterfly takes off

you pout and look up to see if renjun is startled by the sudden escape of the focus of your photograph

when you gasp and see that another butterfly, this one a bright orange has settled on the tip of renjun's nose

without missing the moment - you raise the camera

and snap another photo, not taking the time to adjust the zoom or anything

just wanting to capture the little miracle

the butterfly seems to recognize renjun's pretty face is not a flower, not that you fault the butterfly for thinking that it was

as it flaps its wings and goes in search of another rose

you brighten up when you look at the preview on your camera

no blur or sun glare! it's a perfect shot!

and you lean close to renjun to show him and he leans in too

and the centimeter distance only dawns on the two of you when you look up and renjun has already turned his attention on you two

a heat spreads up your face, as it does renjun's and you both pull back from the scalding feeling

"i-"

"sorry-"

shooting back up to your feet you kind of wobble in this moment of awkwardness and then renjun asks

"will you use that photo for your project?"

"oh - if you don't want me to i won't, i think i can use the other-"

"you can use it."

he rubs his arm and then locks his gaze back on you

"but does this mean you won't come back to the gardens anymore?"

i guess since my project is done, he's right. i don't have any excuse to come and bother him by loitering around anymore.

you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and give a little shrug

"probably, jaemin's internship ends soon too so-"

"then would you be ok with seeing me- well-"

renjun flusters

which is somehow a shocking different from his usual blank expression of utter handsomeness. the stark difference is loveable and you almost have to stop yourself from falling over.

"well what i mean is would you want to maybe see me - outside of the garden.....like not here but somewhere else?"

"to hangout?"

you grip your camera and renjun half nods, but then you can see he's trying to think of the right word

"yes to hangout and like....but different, like a different kind of hangout."

confusion settles on your face and you are about to ask what he means exactly when someone burst between you two

"there you two are! sorry, was i interrupting renjun asking you on a date?"

jaemin's voice manages to echo even though you're all outside

and you push him playfully as renjun rids himself of jaemin's body weight and huffs

"aren't you supposed to be looking at toadstools are something jaemin?"

"first of all, toadstools are unscientific and not the correct term for a class of mushrooms. so mind your manners, and second - why would i want to miss the exciting moment where you too finally agree to go out!"

you catch renjun's gaze and it's as big and as wide as yours

"w-was that what you were asking, if i would go on a date with you?"

the words shock you ask they spill from your mouth

renjun nods, slowly, and then casts a look at jaemin

"yes. before this one interrupted."

jaemin looks between you two as if he is guilty of nothing

for a second you forget about him and then nod back

"y-yes id love to!"

renjun's face softens and he's about to ask for your number when jaemin claps his hands and the sound probably rattles the earth underneath you three

"amazing! this is truly a moment to remember!"

you and renjun both lurch at him and he laughs as you two tell him to go back to his mushrooms

and yet somehow, you three are all smiles when the day comes to an end because you and renjun have set up a date and jaemin is taking most of the credit for it

that summer, after you send the photo of the butterfly nestled perfectly on the tip of renjun's nose to your professor, is one that stays with you forever

you spend most of it with renjun, whenever he isn't busy with his butterflies, learning more and more about him

the little things like he doesn't like cilantro, he frequently doodles and draws in his free time, and he breaks everything he does down into a meticulous step by step process

you watch in fascination as he organizes his side dishes by the order he eats them, tabs the important dates in his planner, and pins your candid photos in a perfectly straight line above his desk

you know some of his friends call him a stickler, but it's really just another thing you grow to like about him

after all - your birthday gets a special, green tab in his planner. green means extra, extra, extra important

as for the butterfly garden .... you try a couple of times to go in. each time, renjun lists off a million reasons why butterflies are great and docile and not dangerous or scary

but every time you kind of apologize and say you can't do it - which renjun doesn't hark on you for

he just takes your hand and kisses the back of it, asks if you want to go visit jaemin or see the roses again

and as much as you love your friend, there's been too many instances of renjun leaning in to tuck your hair from your face and kiss you, all while jaemin pops up between you two like he's at the movies

and you two have to turn around and shoo him off as he insists he just wants to bear witness to the romance of the century

you and renjun sprawl across his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he finds comfort in counting the stripes on your shirt in silence and you mumble about how the summer is almost over and you won't be able to just be lazy like this with him anymore

the days of doing absolutely nothing

renjun props himself on his elbow and looks at you seriously

"spending time with someone you love isn't doing nothing. it's the act of growing closer."

you almost blurt out that that's the most romantic thing you've ever heard and you are going to cry

but instead, circle your hands around his neck and flip him over to be under you

poor renjun tells his directors he got bit by a species from the culicidae family (mosquito) to try and hide the blotch on his collarbone

and while the directors are impressed with renjun's knowledge of insects, jaemin just gives him the good old finger guns of 'yeah. sure'.

your photograph gets great marks from your professor, who replies to the image with praise about the lightening and angle

and the way you managed to capture both your boyfriend and the butterfly

you read the email to renjun over the phone and can almost hear the blush on him when you say boyfriend

you wonder if the future is going to be as sweet as this summer, can someone like you who is so terrified of the creatures renjun has structured his whole life around, really be the right choice for him

and when you ask renjun this, on the day before your classes officially start in the fall

he says that you don't have to be just like him for him to love you

it's the fact that you're so very you that he feels stronger about this relationship than he has about any other

and who cares that you don't like bugs. it just means that if you live together in the future he can be the one to get the spider under the cup and let it free while you lock yourself in the bathroom out of fear

you giggle at this, your heart beating against your ribs at the thought of a future so domestic with the boy smiling down at you

and the best thing is that future comes to fruition

when a decade later you're waiting for renjun outside of the botanical garden, where he strolls out with his co-worker jaemin whose holding a funny looking pot of yellow-topped mushrooms

"date night for the newlyweds?"

he wiggles his eyebrows the same way he did when you two were in college

you shoo him off with the hand that has your wedding ring on it and you tuck your hand through renjun's

"date night for you and some fungi, jaemin?"

he makes a face at your comment and bounds off in the direction of his car

you look up at renjun who chuckles to himself and pecks your lips in a greeting

"how are the butterflies this year?"

you ask as you two turn to walk down the street

"beautiful - do you think this might be the year you finally visit the garden?"

you scrunch up your nose and mumble that maybe, you'll have to see if after ten years your fear really hasn't gotten any better

he smiles and says you can take your time - ten, twenty, thirty

he'll be by your side when you decide it is time

you stop to look at him - seeing for a moment the flash of the boy with the butterfly on his nose - and smile

"and ill be by your side for anything and everyhing too."

he picks your hand up with his own - your matching rings gleam in the setting sun

"i know, that's why i married you."

#me and the website for people who butterfly watch became besties for this au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #renjun au #renjun #nct dream #nct dream au #member: renjun #sfw #butterflies/#insects/#nct dream scenarios #renjun x reader #nostalgia au

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sunlightheidi · 3 years

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For @quirky-and-kind's "Love All Year" event. (*NSFW)

Night has long ago darkened your bedroom, but the dim lamplight glow illuminates you in golden, creates weightless dreamscapes of your figure on the walls: the curve of your waist, the shape of your legs, the arch of your back.

Laying on the edge of the bed, satin bedsheets beneath you, you raise your arms over your head and arch your back deliciously, almost snakelike. Jihyun's charmed by the darkness of your hair and shimmering of your skin; hypnotized by the lace lingerie that hides none of your beauty from him.

Devotion, possession; he is overcome with the need to see you come undone for him. To lean in and kiss the thin skin of your hip, make his way to the inside of your pretty thighs – lower, closer to where he wants to put his mouth and taste the sunlight on your skin.

But not yet – he angles his camera – not yet.

Click.

His camera shutter goes off and your eyes slant up, lupin and gorgeous, looking at him with a hungry ease.

He has been touching you all night; hands adjusting your position, brushing hair from your face, fingertips running against your thigh. With each touch, your carefully contained wildness begins to untangle; little whimpers escape your throat between the pulling of your lips, your body writhing on the bed…

But you’ve been playing with him too.

You smile at him, beautifully, and play with the straps of your bra, slipping them down your shoulder and arms. Darkened eyes, he watches you move – admires you in shameless wonder.

Slowly, deliberately, he makes his way closer to you, staying just out of your reach as you watch him with sharp and steady eyes. You look straight through him and into the desperate craving he feels. He can’t fool you; he never has.

“Jihyun,” you breathe, and it paints him in the most galvanized desire. You slide your hands down your body, watch as he follows the path you lay out: fingertips brushing your collarbones, your neck, your breasts, skimming down your stomach. “Please.”

Click.

Camera in hand, he instinctually reaches towards you, cups your cheek with slow deliberation, swipes his thumb across your swollen, cherry-red lips. Long dark lashes flutter against your cheeks as you open your mouth slightly and let him feel the warmth of you.

“Be still,” he soothes, voice hoarse with desire; he feels like he’s been burnt by the sun. “Open up for me, darling.”

His hand crawls further up the softness of your thigh and you flush as you part your knees for him. He draws in a sharp breath, almost feral, as his thumb brushes at the silky fabric between your legs. You’re already warm and damp with desire, the fabric of your panties gone soft and pliable.

He raises his camera – click.

He wants to confess every longing he’s dreamt of against your lips; to kiss you all through the bleakness of the night and never let you forget how it feels to be wanted.

To never let you forget that you are his.

Decidedly, he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Do you want me to touch you?” He asks, even though he knows the answer; but there is a restrained want in him, dark and swirling in his foggy thoughts, that wants to hear you say it.

You bite your lip and nod, letting your head fall back against the feathered pillows, impatience coloring your movements – flushed cheeks and gaze shimmering with lust.

He memorizes the lines of your face, the red and open mouth, gaze shimmering with lust and lost to pure sensation when his fingers begin to circle your clit.

His head tilts as he looks through the camera lens – click.

He groans softly under his breath as he slides two fingers inside you, your walls clenching down around him without meaning to. He thrusts them lazily inside you, slow little thrusts that make you grip the bedsheets to keep from squirming and pressing back against his hand.

You’re going to save him. You’re going to save him with your exposed neck and butterfly lashes and your warmth pulsing around his fingers.

“More,” you entice, glancing at him through a half-lidded stare that calls him to obey.

He stands slowly, places his camera on the bed next to you and reaches behind to tug his shirt over his head. A strangled groan slips from the back of his throat as you sit up and slowly skim your hand down his stomach to the button of his pants.

He takes your hand, warm and soft, and slowly backs you into the bed – he hovers over you, catches the faint drift of vanilla and salted caramel.

With a steady hand, he cups your jaw and tilts your face up, leaning down and kissing you. You weave your fingers through the soft hair at the base of his neck, keeping him close to you as you press yourself against him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs softly against your perfect waiting mouth. Eyes twinkling in the low light, you smile at him.

I will own all of you, my beloved, he silently promises. Just as you own all of me.

#Jihyun Kim x reader #jihyun kim #Jihyun Kim mysme #Jihyun Kim mystic messenger #Jihyun Kim x MC #v mysme #v mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #Jihyun Kim fanfic #v mysme fanfic #my work #Love All Year

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naoyas90dayfiance · 3 years

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Ghosthunting gone wrong | Naoya Zen'in

SFW but Spooky! (I think)

Naoya Zen'in & GN!Reader

Characters: Naoya Zen'in, Chad (whoever you want him to be), and you.

Summary: Naoya and his team go to a hospital looking for some scary footage for his YouTube channel but it quickly turns into a race for survival.

Word count: 4.3k

Author's note: this is a piece for ChaoticYuna's Summerween collab! I hope it spooks you ♥

Naoya abruptly closed his eyes as the shining white light of the camera hit his iris. The lens of the device adjusted itself to focus on his funny face with a wrinkled nose and eyes pressed shut.

"What a face, boss." Chad laughed at the microphone from his trailer. The image on his left monitor distracted him from focusing on the one in the center.

"Shut up, fuckface." Naoya replied to the discreet microphone attached to his earpiece. "Y/N, you almost made me fucking blind." Naoya turned his back to you while you kept adjusting the camera so it'll have a good take on Naoya's body. Chad couldn't help but giggle at the live video that got to his computer.

"Who the fuck thought it was funny to come to an abandoned hospital?" Naoya said when looking at the building that was in front of him.

"Haunted hospitals are trending right now. Chad's projections show we could get up to 100k subscribers with this video along."

"I hope he's fucking right or else-"

"Gotcha, boss," Chad replied; now, his gaze focused on the monitor at the center of the desk. The blue light washed off the color of his face, and the sounds of clicks filled the small cold office.

"Let's record the intro while he does his thing," Naoya walked around the hospital with you. He found a place that looked creepy enough and stood patiently in front of it. He waited for you to get a good angle of him and the infrastructure he had behind.

"And action." The red light beeped from the camera when you finished the sentence.

Naoya's face lit up. He showed his perfect teeth as his features gracefully expressed his acted cheerfulness; his hands articulated perfectly his introduction, on which he explained that he was in a haunted hospital to search for some evidence of paranormal activity.

"Cut." Naoya's face dramatically changed, his once-raised brows now lied flat, his hands went to his side, and his smile was gone. He turned around and faced the hospital that Chad had picked for his video. It was a significantly tall building.

"Make sure to change the building for the thumbnail. This one isn't scary at all." Naoya told his assistant through the discreet microphone.

"It looks exactly like my gradma's hospital," Naoya smirked at your remark.

"Roger that. Boss, did you read the history of the hospital that I sent you?" Chad asked him.

"I read it, and it was stupidly fake."

"It's what I found, boss. People here said that it happened."

"If you keep believing liars, I'll fire your ass."

"People will love it, boss. Don't worry."

"You're going to be the one worried if we don't get the 100k."

"Boss, it'll be cool if we record you walking around the building," you told Naoya.

Naoya agreed with your comment. He fixed his hair and let his face go numb and expressionless. He hid his hands on the pockets of his jeans.

The young man heard you giving him the sign that the camera was recording. And so, the crackling of the autumn leaves and dried branches under his feet sounded throughout the landscape of the abandoned proximity.

As the recording continued Naoya kept making surprised faces, which were composed of raised eyebrows and parted lips. He also pointed to random broken windows of the hospital with his black-manicured index finger.

"I don't know if Y/N can catch this for you guys," Naoya stopped and turned his whole body to face the camera. He pointed to his left side. "But this hospital is in the middle of nowhere. Behind all of those trees, there's nothing. It's all forest. This was supposed to be a hospital for local factories that are about 26 miles from here; but as you can see, it was abandoned." You slowly moved the camera to film the forest Naoya was talking about, but you only got dark shots, as the sun was almost gone.

"And I'm not sure if you noticed it while we were walking around this building," The camera focused on Naoya. "But there's only one entrance door and an exit door. Not the optimal architectural choice for an important hospital such as this one was meant to be."

"No wonder why this place was abandoned," you mocked behind the camera the poor architecture. Chad chuckled at your comment from his desk, but then went back to his task when you finished walking around to the old medical center.

"Done," Chad muttered to himself and changed windows on his main screen. The red light that filled his office turned green when he clicked on the main button.

"Boss, we're ready," Naoya heard Chad’s notice through his earpiece.

"Let's go inside," he told you.

Naoya stepped on the metal steps of the hospital. You remained two steps down as Naoya positioned himself in the middle of the shot with the entrance door behind him.

"Alright, guys. We're about to enter this haunted hospital. If you are enjoying the video thus far, make sure to press the like button, subscribe and ring the bell. The team and I appreciate it very much. Especially for this might be the video where we might not come out ali-"

As Naoya was speaking, the door behind him slightly opened. The sound of rusted metal against itself made Naoya visibly shake his body and almost bite his tongue. He felt an electric sharp going through his spine. The frontman turned around, and gave a brief look back to the camera, then bravely placed his hand on the door. He lightly pushed it to open further. This time Naoya established eye contact with the camera and winked at it.

"Let's go."

You went up two steps to catch up with Naoya, who held the door open for you after he had gone into the hospital first.

Before your right foot could take the final step, a hand with claw-like nails came out of the spider-web-filled space in-between of the steps; it took the seam of your jean and pulled it towards it. The front of your foot hit the metal staircase. You let out a sudden gasp as your skin got goosebumps for the unexpected move; you instinctively directed the camera to your sports shoes.

"Something grabbed me by the foot, boss," you said in a tense and low voice. Your camera was still exploring the vicinity of the staircase, but you only caught on tape leaves and branches, confirming that the area was clear.

"Better get out of that staircase then," Naoya smiled when you pointed the camera to him. He invited you into the hospital once again. He held the door opened wider so you could go inside. Once the both of you were in the building, Naoya let go of the door that hit with a loud bang the steel frame. Your nerves made you shake the camera when you heard the loud sound. But, in contrast, Naoya kept walking with an expressionless yet beautiful face into the main hallway that led to the reception.

You strolled three steps behind Naoya, catching his left side that showed so well his piercings and his lined eyes that were looking at the lack of decoration in the building. Naoya turned his face towards the reception desk, leaving you to record the back of his bleached hair.

You took the cue and moved the camera around to show how the hospital had two long hallways, one at the right and another at the left. Both of them met at the center, which was the reception center.

"Y/N, light over here," Naoya instructed you. He had gotten behind the reception desk. You rapidly moved towards where your employer was.

"It seems nothing's here," Naoya said to the camera once you were filming his long fingers opening the drawers of the desk.

"Probably the people that have visited this place," Naoya paused as he opened another screeching drawer, "took each document."

"By the way, if you didn't know, we chose this building for a particular reason," Naoya was fully facing the camera; his back was to the dirty white wall of the reception center. "It's said that on October 31st, 1991, this whole building was on fire. The victims of the incident: some patients, doctors, and other members of the staff said that they were being burned alive. And people outside of the building recall having called the firefighting department because everyone was screaming in agony, from little children to the grown men of the factories. Hell broke loose here," Naoya left his position behind the front desk and began walking towards the left hallway of the hospital. You followed his movements with the recording device.

"But, there's another side of the story,” Naoya kept talking to the camera as he was walking. “when the firefighters, ambulances, and the police arrived here they saw nothing. There was no fire, no people with crispy burned skin, not even cigarette smoke," Naoya paused. "A firefighter that we interviewed said that when they got inside, they only saw that everyone in the hospital had passed out," Naoya’s gaze set itself in an arc made of shiny letters that welcomed them to the kid’s area. He took his hand out of his pocket and pointed to it so you could film it.

"The people that were outside of the hospital when everything happened insisted they saw this place on fire. And when the police tried to calm them down and told them that there was no fire, they kept insisting that there was a fire. It seemed like they were the only ones that could see it," Naoya had passed three doors with children's paintings on them. "And when some of those people finally got reunited with their family member that was in the hospital, they broke down into tears," Naoya stopped. You circled with your camera around him and took a spot in front of him. "That day a woman was screaming at the paramedics that her kid was dead, that she couldn't see his face, it was all burned. The only thing remaining was a black goo that covered his bones," Naoya shuddered for the camera and stopped next to a door, which had pink foamy letters, and it read: Playro m, the second "o" was missing.

Naoya grabbed the golden handle covered with grey dust and turned it downwards. He opened the door that made a squeaky sound as Naoya opened it slowly. His eyes went from the camera to the entrance. "You can look it up if you don't believe me," Naoya finally said and pushed the door open; microscope spores of dust traveled through his nostrils and almost made him sneeze.

Naoya found inside the room a plastic blue table with many toys on it. The light of the camera was capable to catch on tape their worn-out state.

"It is said that her kid was here when the paramedics arrived," Naoya added, giving his back to the camera. He got near the table and took one of the toys, closely inspecting it.

"Witnesses said she was a crying mess. Her whines could be heard throughout the whole building and the outsides. She kept saying that her kid's body was decimated, but the paramedics saw that none of that was the truth," Naoya showed a dirty teddy bear to your camera. He put the toy down and kept talking to the device. He was browsing the room with his gaze, and you slowly followed it to catch nothing on the footage. "Her kid had fainted, but he was breathing and didn't have a single scratch on his body."

"Creepy, ain't it?" Naoya suddenly locked eyes with the camera and quirked his eyebrow; then he turned on his heels. You exited the room, but neither closed the door of the playroom. You kept your position in front of Naoya and walked backward as both walked to the next room.

"People don't know the motive of the group hallucination, some say it was some chemical in the wind, others are convinced that the victims were lying, and some of the people that knew the staff swear it was a curse the hospital has. As it was founded by a doctor that took ill people and offered them as sacrif-," Naoya's sentence was cut short. "FUCK," He shouted. He had bitten his tongue as a reaction to the loud bang that almost burst your eardrums. You jumped in fear and pointed your camera light to the room you had just visited.

"Don't leave me in the dark for fuck sake," Naoya's hand was in his mouth, trying to soothe his pain as he walked next to you.

"Boss, the door," you said in a whisper as you zoomed into the door of the kid's playroom. It was shut.

"I guess the rumor was true," Naoya removed his hand from his lips and played out a cheeky smile that you caught once you had taken the shot of the now-closed door.

"Everyone at home. It's 7.30 PM," Naoya gazed at his smart-watch. "We only have the moonlight coming from these windows," Naoya pointed to the windows on the opposite side from where the rooms were. They gave enough light to distinguish walls from nothingness; however, the details were left in the dark. "And we have found a haunted place to do our investigation," Naoya looked at the lens of the camera and winked at it.

"Let's go, love," Naoya commanded, and you followed your boss' steps deeper into the left hallway.

"It is said that the doctor had worshipped a God, but no one knows which one was. Maybe we can get some info about it if we go into his office," Naoya gave a brief look back to the camera and stopped his strolling next to a door with a golden plaque that read "Director". Naoya placed his hand on the handle and turned it. The metal door separated from its frame and let out a cloud of dust that had Naoya coughing. He pulled the neck of his black t-shirt to his nose.

He pushed the entrance open, but he only found a wooden desk in the middle of the room, with no chair behind it. There was graffiti with an unknown symbol for Naoya on the wall.

He entered the room, and so did you to get a 360 shot of the room, showing how the many shelves in there were empty. Naoya looked at the camera from his side angle when it focused on him again; his nose was still covered with his t-shirt. Dust was accumulating on the camera.

"People that leave nothing behind are more suspicious than those that do, don't you think? Was he trying to hide something?" Naoya's steps headed to the exit of the room, and you were in front of him once again, walking backward.

"You'll have to find out in the next part of this video series," Naoya was standing in the hallway now. "where we are going to go to the right hallway of the hospital," Naoya pointed to the hallway on his right. "It is said that the Emergency Room was there, and it was where the sightings of the fire started that day," The camera centered on the darkness of the unexplored hallway and closed its shot when it caught a small shadow standing in the middle of it. A few seconds of silence reigned in the hospital.

"Okay, I got it," you said.

"Boss, I'm still trying to synchronize the rest of the stunts. My computer is having issues connecting with them."

"How did I look in those scenes?"

"Wonderful job as always," you replied. Naoya winked at you.

"Sorry, boss. Did you say something?"

"I asked how I looked in those scenes," Naoya heard a sudden static sound on his earpiece. He immediately took it off. "That idiot, I almost lose my hearing," Naoya grunted between his teeth. He pocketed his device.

"What is it?"

"That fool lost connection with the earpiece; I bet he kicked the cable or some stupid shit like that."

"Don't worry, boss. When that little light there turns green," you pointed to an emergency light that had a weak beaming red light. Naoya had to squint his eyes to see it. "it means that everything is ready to go."

"What the fuck?" Naoya replied in a low tone. He shrugged off the technological nonsense and pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe off the sweat on his face. "Whatever, that piece of trash better have it ready before I quit this shit. You talk to him. I can't stand this," Naoya handed you the earpiece.

"Hey, boss. Look we're ready to shoot," you turned on your camera and set it up to record the empty right hallway. Naoya squinted his eyes again when looking at the emergency light and noticed the green beam discretely coming from it.

The host of the show stepped forward, placing himself in the middle of the shot. He audibly cleared his throat and put his hands in front of him, ready to help him articulate the introduction of the new episode.

"Hey, guys. It's us again. We're here at the haunted Saint John's Hospital. You can check out its back-story on our first video, and watch what we just experienced in those rooms," Naoya pointed at the children's room on his right. You followed his movement with the camera before focusing on the fake blonde again. "This time, we're going to explore th-."

In less than a second, Naoya had lost his balance and loudly fell. The palm of his hands landed after his knees on the floor. His good reflex saved him from hitting his face against the dusty floor by less than an inch.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Naoya shouted facing the floor. His eyes became watery for the dust had entered them, his inhalations became deeper, and the wings of his nose were flaring up. He prompted himself up with his feet and looked at the camera in front of him, his face was completely red, as were his eyes, and the tip of his nose had some visible dust on it.

"Boss, I don't know. Let me rewind the video," you nervously said.

"That piece of trash. He'll know what's good now," Naoya demanded the earpiece back from you. His grip on it made the soft plush on the sides mold to every line of his fingers.

"Chad, fucking son of a bitch," Naoya said on the mic after he put his piece back on. "I'll fucking show you what's funny after we're done filming," Naoya let out a loud shout of pain as he slammed the device on the floor. You tried to hide your neck with your shoulders as you also heard an insufferable screeching sound coming from the earpiece. Naoya walked towards the communication tool and stepped on it harshly until the sound stopped and the device was nothing but small pieces of broken plastic.

"Boss, check this out," you handed Naoya the camera, and he played the clip on the tactile screen. He saw himself standing in the middle of the shot, and how a hand with nasty long nails grabbed his shoulder. The next second of the film showed when it pushed him to the ground.

"What stupid stunt is that? It’s so fucking cliché. I look like a fool," Naoya said between his teeth. His jaw bone was visible through his skin.

Naoya's anger didn't last long, as he let out a loud yelp for he heard deafening bangs coming from every room of the hospital. He dropped the camera, which turned itself off and left you in the dark.

Naoya covered his ears with his hands and tried to adjust his eyes to the dim moonlight coming from the windows. He tried to look for the source of the sound, but it was too dark.

You quickly crouched down once the camera hit the floor and picked it up. You tried to cover your ears from the loud noise, but your right hand was occupied with turning on the device.

As the welcome ringtone played from the camera device and joined the bangs, a ear-piercing scream came from the right hallway. You dropped the camera once again while Naoya visibly shook his body. You firmly clenched your jaw and felt tears rolling down your face for the immense stress that the continuous screeching made your bodies felt.

Naoya sprinted towards the entrance door, and you followed his steps. The camera was far gone as it wasn’t your priority anymore.

When you got to the entrance, Naoya pushed and pulled the door repeatedly; you joined him in forcing the other door. The sounds of the maddening bangs and the ear-shattering scream almost made you start desperately screaming yourself.

"How the fuck did that bitch think this was funny?" Naoya grunted and kicked the door, but it didn't budge. He let out a loud shout in frustration that only made the screeching voice become louder and, somehow, closer to you.

"Boss, let's get out of here now," Naoya realized how now he could see every detail of the hospital thanks to a mysterious orange light. He turned around and saw how the building was being engulfed by flames. Both of you felt the overwhelming heat of the fire making your body’s temperature unbearably high.

You quickly ran into the nearest window, and with shaky hands tried to open it. As you both struggled to lift it, you heard how the nerve-wreacking screech was getting closer to you. And just before the window sprung open thanks to your forces combined, Naoya managed to see from his peripheral view an demonic creature standing next to him, reaching out to grab his shoulder with its familiar human-like hand.

Naoya pushed you out of the way, and he threw himself out of the window. He landed abruptly on the concrete floor of the entrance. His body shook at the impact; he could feel blood running down his face, which clouded his view with red.

“Boss! Help me!” Naoya heard your plea behind him. He turned his bloody face around and saw the tall creature taking the right side of your body to forbid you from leaving the place. Naoya made eye contact with the goat-like face of the force that was man-handling you, but before fear took over his body, he saw your crying and desperated face.

Naoya used his hands to prompt himself up. He grabbed your left hand that was reaching out towards him and violently pulled you outside. You hit your hip with the window frame but managed to free your right arm and jump out of the window.

Trying to look for a way out, Naoya looked at Chad's trailer but it was being devoured by fire. Then, he instinctively looked at the car that was parked near it and saw how Chad's moonlit body was running towards his vehicle.

Without giving a second look back to the creature that was now making its way out through the window, Naoya demanded that you follow him.

He jumped the steps of the staircase, and he loudly sprinted towards the car as Chad was trying to start it. The lights of the lamps guided his and your way towards it.

Naoya slammed his body against the door of the passenger seat. His hands touched the cold metal of the door until he found the handle. He pulled it, opened the door and launched himself into the seat, closing the door behind him. Chad was too focused on trying to start the car for the fifth time to acknowledge his employer's presence.

"Pump the accelerator" Naoya took Chad's hands out of the steering wheel. He put his right hand on the key, and he fidgeted it three times while Chad pumped the accelerator. In an instant, the car's engine started, and Chad placed his hands on the wheel.

As Chad looked up he saw how your bloody body was trying to get to the car. The creature was close behind you. He drove closer to you so you could open the back seat.

In a second, you managed to open the door and got into the car. Chad sped up and drove out of the inferno that was the hospital and the trailer.

Naoya's gaze traveled back to check on your body lying in the backseat, and he could also see how the out-of-this-world creature remained still and watched you leave.

The road to the main highway was a bumpy and silent one. Tears were still running down your face; Naoya had pulled out a few tissues from the compartment, and was cleaning the blood off his face.

He had gave you the whole box and some medical alcohol, which you used to treat your wounds and then clean the blood. As you were doing so, you couldn't help but noticed that your wounds didn't burn when you applied alcohol to them, and that the tissues were only came out with the brown dirt of your skin.

"Someone else has to drive. I can't do this," Chad interrupted your thoughts when he suddenly stopped the car. He started to sob and then desperately cry as the sight of the cuts on his hands was too much for the young man to handle. Naoya opened his passenger seat door and exchanged positions with his assistant. He was now driving his car.

"I had to break the fucking window with my hands. I thought I was going to die there," Chad whispered as he kept crying.

You gave Chad the bottle of medical alcohol and the box of tissue. Chad took it and started to wipe off the sweat and tears from his face, as well as treating his wounds. You saw how he hissed in pain, and noticed how his tissues came out red.

Then, a silly thought came to your head:

"Boss, I lost the camera back there."

"And I lost all the footage in the computer."

"The demon can keep them," you giggled at Naoya's comment, and Chad did the same.

#naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya x reader #naoya #naoya zenin #zenin naoya

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tickly-trashcan · 3 years

Text

Picture Perfect {MitsuKou}

A/N: i am,,, so excited to write for these two omfg. They’re such a big comfort for me, i hope i was able to capture them well in this fic! I also hope I managed to get enough tsundere mitsuba in it for ya hehe. Enjoy!

Summary: Kou and Mitsuba are out in the garden taking pictures when Mitsuba discovers something new about Kou.

Word Count: 1.7k (under the cut)

Mitsuba and Kou were walking together outside of the school near the gardens, Mitsuba with his camera in hand as he took pictures of everything around him, feeling rather inspired.

Insects, flowers, the fruits and veggies, nothing could escape Mitsuba’s lens. Finally he turned to Kou, who was leaning down in the flower patch and picking a few carnations. Mitsuba snapped his camera, a quick flash glaring in the corner of Kou’s eye as he turned, looking at Mitsuba who only smiled at him.

“How handsome did I look in that one?” Kou teased with a toothy grin, making Mitsuba blush.

“N-Not handsome at all!” Mitsuba quickly answered, huffing. Kou rolled his eyes. Typical Mitsuba…

Mitsuba clicked through the pictures on his camera, stopping at the one he had just taken of Kou. He smiled softly, zooming in a little bit.

“I think I look pretty handsome, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kou quipped, now standing behind Mitsuba. Mitsuba screeched in surprise and jumped, not expecting Kou to suddenly be behind him and seeing him staring - no, checking Kou’s picture!

“D-Don’t sneak up on people like that, creep!” Mitsuba quickly snapped, pulling his camera closer to himself. Kou frowned at the insult and rubbed the back of his neck. Mitsuba huffed and Kou only chuckled softly, muttering out an apology.

“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture?” Kou asked, leaning to the side so that he was in Mitsuba’s peripheral vision again. Mitsuba’s cheeks warmed at the sight of the blonde boy, and he quickly shook his head to try and rid himself of the blush.

“Is that… a no?”

“No! I mean… yeah, you can take a picture. Just be careful with my camera!” Mitsuba quickly tacked on the last sentence, making Kou chuckle. He handed the camera to Kou, who was a bit shocked at its weight. He held the camera up to his face, looking through the lens as he followed a butterfly, quickly snapping a picture.

He pulled it back and looked at it, groaning in annoyance.

“It’s blurry.”

Mitsuba glanced over at the indeed blurry picture and chuckled. Kou looked at Mitsuba with a disappointed puppy look and Mitsuba felt his heart throb.

“Can you help me?”

Mitsuba huffed, crossing his arms. Kou looked down dejectedly and kicked a rock. Mitsuba looked at Kou again and sighed, reaching his hand out.

“Give me the camera really quick.”

Kou immediately perked up and handed the camera to Mitsuba, who smiled at Kou. He held up the camera to his eye and followed the butterfly, snapping a quick picture. He showed it to Kou, who whistled.

“It’s not blurry,” He said, and Mitsuba scoffed.

“Of course it’s not. Congratulations, you have working eyes,” Mitsuba jeered, and Kou frowned, putting his hands on his hips.

“Can you just show me how to take a better picture?”

Mitsuba nodded, smiling sweetly as he handed the camera back to Kou. He stood behind him and moved his hands so he was holding the camera up to his face. Both of their faces warmed as they stood in close proximity with each other, Kou shaking slightly from being nervous.

“Stop shaking! You’ll get a blurry picture again!” Mitsuba reprimanded, and Kou quickly straightened up, stopping his shaking.

Mitsuba pulled his hands back along Kou’s arms, making him shiver and huff as Mitsuba warned him again to hold still. Kou tried to hold still, but Mitsuba’s hands gently holding his upper bicep, so close to his underarm was making him nervous. He giggled softly out of anticipation and Mitsuba groaned.

“You’re so fidgety, what’s wrong?!”

“N-Nothing!”

Mitsuba huffed and gave his arms a light squeeze as a means of warning Kou to keep himself still. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Kou to squeak suddenly and pull his arms back, nearly dropping the camera.

Mitsuba looked at Kou with a questioning look, and Kou froze, his face bright red. Mitsuba squeezed his hands again, and Kou jolted, though he had better control over his voice at this point.

“Kou, are you-”

“I’m not!” Kou immediately hissed, cutting Mitsuba off. The pink-haired boy chuckled, wiggling his fingers on Kou’s arms as he shrieked, jumping forward and away from Mitsuba, turning around to glare at him, face bright red.

“Are you sure you’re not? You seem pretty tick-”

“Don’t say it!” Kou whined. Mitsuba only grinned, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers in the air, making Kou giggle nervously in anticipation. He shoved the camera into Mitsuba’s chest, Mitsuba quickly scrambling to grab it before it could fall as Kou bolted in the other direction.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Mitsuba yelled, setting the camera down gently and chasing after Kou.

Kou ran and ran, he was about to run off the school grounds when he tripped over the Confession Tree’s roots. He cursed as he fell flat on his face, scrambling to try and get up before Mitsuba could catch him, but he was too late.

MItsuba finally caught up to him, panting heavily as he quickly pinned Kou down by straddling his back, Kou wailing beneath him.

“Don’t you dare! Let me gooooo!” He yelled, throwing his hands around as he squirmed madly underneath Mitsuba. Mitsuba only chuckled, lowering his hands and pinching Kou’s ribs experimentally. He squeaked, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth.

Mitsuba grinned and dug in, tweaking Kou’s ribs with pinches and prods, his giggles filling the air despite him trying to keep them restrained. They were slightly muffled by his hand, though it didn’t remain covering his lips for very long when Mitsuba’s hands travelled up to Kou’s underarms, poking and scribbling in the hollows.

Kou hollered suddenly, clamping his arms down as he squirmed beneath Mitsuba, who laughed.

“Not thehehehehere! Mit-Mitsubahahaha!”

“Your laugh is so cute!” He said mindlessly. He quickly realized what exactly he had just said and blushed madly, correcting himself. “I-I mean, not cute! You sound like a shrieking monkey!”

Mitsuba… wasn’t necessarily wrong. Kou had quite the cackle, it was loud and bright and squeaky, with a few brief snorts mixed in between. He wanted to cover his mouth again, he thought his laugh was so embarrassing. But with Mitsuba tickling his underarms with such ease, he was finding that covering up his laugh was going to be difficult.

“Mitsubahahahaha! Dammit, stahahahahap!”

“No way, this is pure gold,” Mitsuba said eagerly, hungry to test out every spot of Kou’s and to hear every bit of laughter that would emerge from the blonde’s lips.

He started to rub circles in his underarms with his thumb, making Kou screech as he tried to clamp his arms harder against his sides, squirming madly as he tried to shake Mitsuba off, but he wasn’t budging.

“GYAHahaha, plehehease! Sohohomewhere else, not thehehehere!”

“Hmm, somewhere else? Alright, how about here?”

Mitsuba pinched Kou’s waist, making him screech as he shook more violently than before, pounding his fist into the ground.

“Nohohoho wait! Not thehehehere!”

“You said to switch spots, I choose here!”

Before Kou could protest further Mitsuba’s hands were around his waist, giving it a firm squeeze as he squawked, laughter flowing from his lips loudly as he cackled. He shook his head around, snorting and squealing as Mitsuba continued to tickle his waist, going up and down his sides as Kou could do nothing except pound his fists into the dirt and laugh.

“Mitsubahahaha! It’s bahahahad, plehehease no more!”

“How bad? Tell meeee~” Mitsuba teased, rubbing circles on Kou’s back, just below his kidneys as he cackled madly, shaking his head.

“BAHAhahahad!!” Was all Kou could formulate before dissolving into unintelligible hysterics. He could feel tears beginning to prick the corners of his eyes as he continued to howl. Mitsuba continued to explore Kou’s torso, digging into his ribs before going back to his sides and giving those a few more good squeezes and even pinching at his hips.

“Boop, boop, boop,” Mitsuba chanted as he poked randomly at Kou’s torso, from his ribs down to his hips, making Kou jump and squeak with every touch as his giggles dispersed and he shook with quiet laughter. Mitsuba finally got off the poor boy, deciding that he had had enough.

Kou laid there for a minute, just trying to regain control of his breathing as Mitsuba frowned, worrying that he might’ve gone too far. It was never his intention to really tire Kou out, he was just excited to hear his laugh…

Kou sat up, a big, bright smile on his face as he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wow, you really got me good!” He said, his voice full of glee as he turned to Mitsuba, who stared at him in shock.

“Wh-Why are you acting so happy right now? I just tickled you half to death,” Mitsuba said, slight concern in his voice as Kou blinked. He laughed suddenly and blushed a little bit, scooting a bit closer to Mitsuba.

“I’ve never really minded being tickled, and it was nice when you were the one doing it,” He said honestly, making Mitsuba’s face burn hotter than a volcano. He hit at Kou’s chest, pouding his hands against him as he whined.

“You - You can’t just say things like that! It’s embarrassing!” He wailed, and Kou only laughed, grabbing Mitsuba’s hands.

“I mean it though! You made it really fun…” Kou said, the last part closer to a whisper as the two blushed bright red. Mitsuba finally broke the silence, his voice squeaky as he barely managed to speak.

“I had fun too,” He said quietly, and Kou smiled. Mitsuba averted his gaze and turned his head, huffing. Kou chuckled, pressing a quick peck to Mitsuba’s cheek as he had his head turned, and he immediately snapped back around, Kou’s face still right next to Mitsuba’s as their noses touched. Mitsuba squeaked and fell backwards, yelling.

“D-Don’t do that! Stupid pervert!”

Kou laughed and fell down next to Mitsuba, looking over at him as Mitsuba rubbed his cheek with his hand, Mitsuba trying to muster a look of disgust despite the grin on his face.

“I have exorcist germs now, yuck!”

“You love me and you know it,” Kou teased, and Mitsuba narrowed his eyes at him, wiggling his fingers at him. Kou squeaked and tried to jump up, but Mitsuba already had his hands on him, scribbling over his tummy as Kou laughed even more, the two of them having plenty of fun in each other's company.

#mitsukou #mitsuba #kou #toilet bound hanako kun #tickle fic #DanganAnon

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coldshrugs · 3 years

Text

alma.mp4

pairing: alma greene/mason word count: 980 rating: E. this is sexually explicit content with lots of cursing too. minors do not interact. note: a prompt for 8/18 of @hotwayhavensummer: masturbation. for when sending a nude just won't cut it.

💋---💋---💋---💋---💋

"These Agency phones can record videos, right?"

Alma lifts the sleek black smartphone off her side table, inspecting the back for a camera. Yep, it's there.

"Of course they can." Mason snaps the phone away and starts the camera, holding up the screen to show her the function does indeed work. "Why?"

Well... here she fucking goes.

This is a first. She thinks back to the last time they were apart for a few days and his one unprompted “you okay?” text (adorable). When she got back, he'd fucked her like his life depended on it (also cute, considering). Mason's not one for wordy declarations. He can't tell Alma he cares, so he leaves it on her skin.

Maybe this will make the next time a little easier to endure.

"Wanna make something to watch later?"

Her soft cotton flannel is already partially unbuttoned (it's just them after all, lounging in her apartment). She shifts her weight on the sofa, one leg draped over the edge, and frees a button from her shirt.

He glances from the phone to her panties, a brow cocked like she might be fucking with him.

"You got something to show me?"

In an instant, the camera is on her. Coupled with the storm of his gaze, it feels too vulnerable. Almost invasive.

What does she look like, spread open and undressing herself? Too stiff? Too silly? Usually, thoughts like this don't plague her, but right now they prickle under her skin, tiny fires threatening her paper-fragile edges.

But he's watching—fucking christ, he looks hungry—and the pinprick heat transforms into something all-consuming. Mason's eyes dart between the image on the screen and the view in front of him, trying to drink in both at once, and that’s enough. Alma knows this blaze.

"Fuck yeah, I do, sunshine."

Another button goes and Alma's hands roam exposed skin. All the places he likes to touch: the pulse point on her neck he dreams of opening, the space between her tits, a little squeeze of both until her nipples are hard, and then she continues down the soft skin of her stomach. His eyes follow her hands.

She lifts the hem of her shirt. It bunches above her hips, and her fingertips skate over the thin fabric of her underwear. She smiles at him, finally feeling it. He's squirming a little, chewing his lip, and she must look damn good if he's this bothered already. He lifts the phone to catch it, her smile, and it's a shame his hands aren't on her instead.

Not yet, though.

A firm touch now, palm against already-wet cotton, against the heat beneath, and Alma's whimper is almost embarrassing. It would be if Mason's cock wasn't straining against his jeans.

He leans closer, hand outstretched—

"No touching."

—and finishes with the buttons on her shirt.

His laugh comes out as a hum, low and satisfied with the tease.

"Talk to me." She's working in circles now, using the friction of her underwear to her advantage. "Tell me how you feel when you fuck me."

He takes his time replying. The phone moves closer, shifts from her hand to her face, and finally, easy smirk on his perfect lips, he stands. "Take those off—" he nods to her soaked panties— "and I will."

Wait, is she not calling the shots?

But it's a request granted easily enough. She drops them to the floor, and before she can touch herself, he's kneeling. Readjusting his angle for a closeup.

"Overwhelmed," he answers, finally. The single word should be disappointing, but Mason is a master arsonist. He starts fires to watch them burn out of control, and if he burns too? Well...

"Doesn't matter what part of you is wrapped around my dick, Alma."

He licks his lips—lips that should be on her, anywhere on her (soon). But it's only her hands, his eyes, and the camera she no longer fears.

"Every noise out of that pretty fucking mouth—"

Her fingers squeeze inside, and she knows this landscape well, soft and hot, and goddamn, she's going to ruin the sofa. She rolls her hips, meeting her own touch to the time of each raspy exhale.

"Every touch—"

Mason's eyes drag over her. He sees it all, captures it through the lens on his phone. Her lip caught between her teeth, her heaving chest, her fingers twisting in and out as her legs start to shake.

"Shit, Alma, the way you taste—"

Oh?

"How do I taste, Mason?"

She lifts her fingers, dripping and slick, to his mouth. The smirk parts and he takes them in with no hesitation. His tongue slides over them, between them, and Mason's never been good at savoring.

He devours.

Eyes half-lidded like he might be a little drunk on her taste, he presses a wet kiss to her palm. His lips come away shining. "Better than blood, sweetheart."

The weight of her touch is nothing compared to what he does with a few words. If she'd still been fucking herself, that combination would've shoved her right over the edge.

He snaps off the camera and throws the phone somewhere across her living room. Something shatters, because of course it does.

Alma blinks. "I wasn't finished."

“That’s right, you weren’t.”

Her hips are jerked to the edge of the couch, legs pressed deep into the cushions. There's no build up. He's over the tease.

His tongue slips inside her, swirling, lapping, drawing out a moan that is actually embarrassing. Mason has the nerve to laugh and the vibration is doing no favors for Alma's dignity.

He moves, tongue flat and steady, to her clit. A gentle suck, a harder one (her hands are in his hair, she's lucky she can string together his goddamn name), and doesn't lift his mouth off her when he makes the promise.

"You'll be finished soon."

#azia writes #nsft #mature #hotwayhavensummer #alma/mason #whew okay idk what to say about this so instead of rambling in the tags like i usually do #i will only FLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #another midnight drop and sleep #em dash and parentheses my beloveds 💗

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seoracle · 3 years

Text

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame.

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real.

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back.

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist.

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that.

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face.

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.”

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy.

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.”

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!” You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain.

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager).

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind.

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea. “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo.

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu.

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed.

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face.

“Y/N?”

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever.

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.”

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect.

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat.

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long.

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her.

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.”

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.”

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.”

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop.

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

#i'm sorry in advance #however thoughts are welcomed #skz chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #skz blurbs #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan blurbs #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

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styw · 3 years

Text

Rain in Paris

All I ever see is you.

"Jisoo, don't look."

Jisoo hummed, turning her achilles heel to where Jennie was staring, and blinked almost unbelievably when she grasped it.

"Shit. I told you to not look. Are you dumb?" Jisoo felt something wrapped into her wrist and there, she saw Jennie holding it tightly, and tried to walk them into somewhere private where she couldn't see, but Jisoo didn't want to run anymore. She was exhausted.

"It's okay," she says as she sucks her breath. "I'm fine, Jennie. It's okay. It's been six months, I'm sure... I'm sure she's fine too."

Jisoo knew she had said it with a tight smile because Jennie was giving her the look, the familiar look she had seen over the past few months, and honestly, Jisoo was getting sick of it. It was time for a change.

"Are you sure?" Jennie pulled her wrist to her chest and drew small circles on it.

Jisoo nodded. She hoped her smile wasn't too tight for Jennie to notice, but then again, nothing goes undetected once you've got Jennie Kim's eyes locked on you.

"Are you really really sure that you're going to be fine? Because if you're not, I'm going to ditch the party and just have movie marathons with you."

Jisoo scoffed a smile as she pulled her hand away from Jennie's grasp. That earned an alarming look from Jennie, and Jisoo noticed that, but she only gave her a kind smile.

These past few months, Jennie Kim has been nothing but a sweet, protective cheeseball to her, and Jisoo appreciates her best friend for always being there when she needs her most. However, she couldn't let herself become like this every time she saw her. Jisoo doesn't want to allow herself to be dependent. She refuses to.

"I am fine now, Jennie." Jisoo tangled her hand with Jennie's and smiled almost brightly, almost as if she had almost let herself be fooled for once that she was fine. when she was not.

"I'm fine," she repeated, but this time, she murmured it under her breath, and looked up with a slight crooked smile. She was going to stay strong today.

"Do you want me to fetch you some wine? I heard there's champagne here."

"I'm fine, Chu. It's just, I'm worried about y-"

"I'm going to get two champagnes for us, alright? Don't go anywhere. Lisa would be here soon."

Jisoo forced her two feet to walk and left Jennie without waiting for her reply. Jennie was too much of a nagged today and Jisoo wasn't in a mood to hear such a nag. In fact, all she wanted to do at this instant was to focus on why she came here today: pose for photographers, drink some champagne, and let herself have a break for once. She's not going to allow herself to sulk in the corner just because the love of her life was standing right there.

Well, the ex-love of her life, that is.

Jisoo drank two shots of whiskey when she felt a lump in her throat. No, not today. She wasn't going to let Chaeyoung win today. Not now, not tomorrow, and never. She wouldn't give her satisfaction about what their break up had done to Jisoo. However, she admitted it did leave a hole in her heart.

Jisoo closed her eyes for a second and tried to think about the beach house she had brought last year. Struggling, Jisoo tried to hear the waves in her ears. She pictured herself as she sat on the sand while she looked at the sun embracing the sea. She had tried to hum a song in her head, but when Jisoo did, the only song that came out of her lips was what Chaeyoung had taught her last year. It was Chaeyoung's favorite song, if ain't got you by Alicia Keys.

What was wrong with her? Sometimes, Jisoo wishes she could reset her memory of Chaeyoung and just delete them fore-

"Hi."

Jisoo had stiffened up in her place when she heard a voice that had been hunting her for months. It was Chaeyoung's voice. Jisoo could not doubt it. She was certain it was Chaeyoung's voice, her favorite person.

"Hey," Jisoo said, turning around with a phony smile.

"How are you?"

"Cool. You?"

Chaeyoung had stiffened in her position. That didn't go unnoticed by Jisoo, and she hated herself for how much she remembered. She doesn't need a fucking witch marble to guess, because until now, she still memorized how Chaeyoung spoke, how she moved, and more importantly, how she imperfectly tried to hide her emotions before Jisoo. Chaeyoung was still the book Jisoo had adored so much.

"I'm fine. Actually, doing well..." Chaeyoung touched the rim of her champagne glass and smiled a little. She was not.

Jisoo flashed a small smile as she pretended to not notice. She was not here to emphathize. She was here to lose herself, fuck around, and drink some champagne for once in her life, and she's going to do that even if the love of her life is standing right in front of her.

Who cares anyway? She was not Chaeyoung's anymore.

"That's nice. I have to go now. Bye, Chae-"

"Wait!"

Jisoo halted her steps and stared at Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung was looking at the floor, almost like a shy school girl, and for once, it made Jisoo coo about how adorable she was.

"...I'm sorry."

And when Jisoo thought she couldn't freeze any more, she was proven wrong. She felt she couldn't even lift an inch of her finger when she heard and felt how sincere Chaeyoung was.

"I'm sorry, Jisoo." She repeats. Almost like she was pleading for her to comeback. Jisoo didn't like it a bit.

Jisoo tightened her grip on the monkey bar she was holding in her mind. She wouldn't falter. She wouldn't allow herself to. But when she saw that Chaeyoung was in a state to cry and could feel just how vulnerable and naked Chaeyoung was, she felt she needed to take their issue somewhere where eyes and the camera lens could not see them, so she grabbed Chaeyoung's wrist, and let her steps lead them their way.

Jisoo had let go of Chaeyoung's wrist when they reached the balcony. And when silence engulfed them, Jisoo sighed so loudly, reached out to ruffle her own hair, and felt Chaeyoung's eyes burning on her.

Jisoo turned her head and she wished she didn't, because as soon as she saw. She took the hanky from her pocket and gave it to Chaeyoung.

"Don't cry," Jisoo looked at the flat view. "People will think I bullied you or something."

Somehow, Jisoo heard a chuckle and she smiled a little. She could still hear Chaeyoung sniffling, and Jisoo remembered so dearly how she would wrap her arms around her just to comfort Chaeyoung.

She hates this. She doesn't.

"How's Jennie?" Jisoo held back her head to turn.

"She's fine," Jisoo smiles. "She's been a baby lately. She wouldn't refuse to leave me alone. She wouldn't even let me go out alone. She's like a glue stick to me."

"Except now?"

"Except now," Jisoo repeats and chuckles. She hoped it wasn't too forced.

She heard no response from Chaeyoung, and when Jisoo turned her head, their eyes met. And for a split second, Jisoo wanted to know how it felt to be in Chaeyoung's arms again. Chaeyoung's eyes were burning red, her face was puffy, and Jisoo cursed herself for that.

I'm still longing for you. I hate you.

"I miss you, you know." Chaeyoung said, her voice almost strained as she stilled her gaze.

A bitter laugh escaped from Jisoo's lips. "Yeah. Sure you do."

"I'm serious."

"You don't, Chaeyoung."

"I miss yo-"

"If you missed me, why didn't you come for me?" Jisoo snapped. Chaeyoung had pursed her lips as she stared down at the floor.

"Don't tell me you missed me if you don't mean it," She whispered. "It hurts me."

"But I mean it, Jisoo."

Suddenly, Jisoo felt something warm on her hand, and there, she saw Chaeyoung's hand resting on top of her. She looked up slowly and met Chaeyoung's intense gaze. Oh how she missed those eyes staring at her lovingly.

"I'm sorry for not fighting for us," She whispered and Jisoo let Chaeyoung play her fingers.

"I'm sorry for not being there with you when you needed us to fight for the relationship we have. You were right, I was a coward for not fighting for us." Chaeyoung started to draw small circles as she continued to talk. Tears were starting to stream down to her cheeks.

"I was just so afraid to defy them, Jisoo. You have to understand that they were the only family I had at that time, and I didn't want to disappoint them... No child wants to let their parents down. They were against of our relationship when I told them about us... so I thought of leaving you in order to stop their disappointment in me, but it didn't work.

I just want them to love me for who I am, Soo, but they never did. They never loved me for who I am, and I'm sorry..."

Without a word, Jisoo held her tears back, and pulled Chaeyoung closer to her embrace. For six months, Jisoo had always wondered what, where, and when she had gone wrong. What was wrong with her for Chaeyoung to leave her just like a rug? She had always thought she was the only one suffering from their break up, and their relationship didn't mean that much to Chaeyoung. Turns out, it did. Chaeyoung just happened to be good at being silent about it.

Chaeyoung was still sobbing uncontrollably into Jisoo's embrace and Jisoo was trying her best to whisper words that she remembered that would calm Chaeyoung.

"Hey, listen to me. Chaeyoung, it's alright. You hear me, It's oka-"

"No, you listen to me." Chaeyoung cuts off, pulling herself away as she sniffed and wiped her own tears. "I hurt you badly, Jisoo. You don't deserve that. You never do. My reason for what I did to you doesn't justify it. Still, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for breaking your heart."

Jisoo's eyes were tearing up as she listened and looked at Chaeyoung. This was her first time seeing this side of Chaeyoung, so desperate for forgiveness, so sincere, and so vulnerable. What happened? Jisoo pulled Chaeyoung back to her embrace and patted her head wordlessly. "I'm really sorry, Soo."

Jisoo didn't speak a word, instead she kept her position and held Chaeyoung close to her.

"I look horrible..." Chaeyoung murmured, pulling herself away to wipe off the smudged eyeliner.

Jisoo broke into a fit of laughter, and when Chaeyoung saw it, for the first time in the past six months, she felt warm in her stomach and pouted.

"Don't laugh."

"I'm not."

"You did." Chaeyoung narrowed her eyes accusingly and trailed her finger down to Jisoo's chest with a sad smile.

"Tell me something I don't know, Jisoo."

Jisoo smiled. "I forgive you, Chaeyoung."

Chaeyoung widened her eyes in shock, and Jisoo chuckled as she reached out and tucked Chaeyoung's blonde hair at the side. "Tell me something I don't know, Chaeyoung."

"I want us back, Jisoo," Chaeyoung muttered and took Jisoo's hands on hers. "I want us to try again. At a slow pace, or whatever you want, and this time I will fight for you, Jisoo."

With so much sincerity in her eyes, Jisoo knew Chaeyoung would fight for them, and so she leans closer and clashes their lips together. It's been six months since Jisoo got the taste of those lips and until now, it still felt sweet and beautiful. She adored every inch of it. Chaeyoung had circled her arms around Jisoo's neck and tightened them. She had missed Jisoo's lips too, and she was ready to risk it all just to get to taste those lips.

She was ready to risk everything for them to try again. Jisoo was worth it. She was worth it. Their relationship was worth fighting for.

When Jisoo had pulled from the kiss, she spoke something and that was enough for Chaeyoung to cry more, but instead of sadness, she cried in happiness.

"I want us back too."

#chaesoo #parkchaeyoung #kimjisoo #blackpink #ot4 #jenlisacameo #jenniekim #lalisamanoban #fluff #slightangst #slowburn #paris #gxg

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sector-i-closed · 3 years

Text

Caught

Requested by anon

Model au + photographer!Hongjoong

Mingi x Reader x Yunho

Warning: Exhibitionism, anal fingering, double penetration, orgasm denial but reader comes, spanking one time

The day at work was not favoring you well in the slightest.

Already you had unwittingly succeeded in getting into a cat fight with a fellow model and your skin was also a mess after a breakout of acne littered your face and created chaos for the makeup artists who fussed over your appearance.

You were extra anxious today and wished that you could relax, trying to find comfort that the steroid that was used to control the inflammation of your acne that your dermatologist tried to console you but the best they could do was prescribe the steroid for you.

"Focus, focus on the camera, Y/N!" Hongjoong barked out, knowing that he could get a better face from you as he remained behind the camera lens, snapping away.

You were struggling to zone into autopilot, which was where you functioned the best for both photoshoots and fashion shows.

Part of the reason why you were more distracted then usual was this particular shoot required you to be partly exposed for the fashion spread of the upcoming issue of the magazine that you modeled for most of the time, though what made it awkward was that you were paired with two fully dressed male models that made you feel smaller than you really were and the attractiveness of the pair was enough to unnerve you, let alone the humiliation of being exposed and posing with them was enough for fire to rush directly to your face and awaken every cell of your body.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" The male model that you had came to know as Mingi spoke near your ear, his low voice prompting you to involuntarily shudder beneath the other male model known as Yunho's fingertips where his large hands held your waist.

"I'm- I'm fine... Just camera nerves..." You bit down hard on your lower lip, hating how you trembled at the effects of the male's that surrounded you.

"You've got this sweetheart. We all do..." Yunho encouraged as he tried to convince himself that everything would be alright as everyone moved their forms in front of the camera.

You wanted to sob in frustration, feeling a sense of arousal in your system and you chided yourself for feeling such a strong, intoxicating sensation around your coworkers.

"Hongjoong, it's time to go lunch!" The fashion coordinator who was named Yeosang called out to the photographer.

"I'm not leaving until I'm finished with my subjects." Hongjoong muttered sternly at the fashion coordinator.

"You'll leave if I bring Seonghwa to get your ass taken care of! Your fatigue is showing and to put it mildly you look like shit because it's apparent that you're not sleeping." Yeosang folded his arms across his chest and you watched the scene unfold before you with your coworkers.

"Don't bring my boyfriend into this!" Hongjoong scowled, "And this is what happens during fashion week.

Pack fashion shows to photograph into your schedule and the ad campaigns for the following season and that equals little sleep but I'm not complaining about it." Hongjoong shrugged, returning his attention to you, Yunho and Mingi.

"But it still doesn't give you the right to burn yourself out. I'm calling Seonghwa so he can get you to at least eat something." Yeosang threatened, visibly worrying for his friend.

"Alright fine! Fuck it! I'll go for lunch and come back to my project." Hongjoong growled irritation while the fashion coordinator smirked in response to the photographer leaving quickly.

Yeosang followed after him and other personnel left, leaving you and the two male models alone.

"Should we go?" Mingi voiced his question to Yunho as he took notice in your extremely flustered appearance.

"We don't have to! I brought my own lunch! I would love to share it if you two are interested!" Yunho replied cheerfully.

You groaned quietly at your own state of undress, promptly plodding to the bed that was being used as a prop for the photoshoot.

"I'm good..." You replied, bringing the sheets to your chest and lying down on your stomach.

"I'm willing to share!" Yunho pouted, whacking your ass playfully with his hand. A far more erotic sound then you intended to release drifted from your lips and immediately you froze in place, regretting your vocalization immediately.

"Uhm..." Your eyes were wide with fright as you looked up at Yunho who looked equally as alarmed as you did.

"Shit... That sounded so hot." Mingi quirked an eyebrow at you as he carefully drew closer to you, supporting himself by leaning against a bedpost and proceeding to gaze down at you from where he stood.

"I'm- I'm..." You stuttered out, feeling embarrassed by your vocalized actions as lust involuntarily clouded your vision. Mingi immediately recognized the look in your eyes, leading him to move closer to you as he gauged your reaction.

"'m pathetic..." You mumbled under your breath, clinging to the sheets as you desperately tried to reel yourself in from losing yourself to the feelings that ran rampant in your body, fighting an inner war with yourself regarding weather you wanted him to get closer to you or for him to stay as far away from you as possible when he was eyeing you so dangerously.

"You've done well to resist this long. It's up to you baby if you want to continue resisting or taste what you're wanting to experience." Mingi touched your back with a firm touch, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned out loud without attempting to restrain it this time.

"She's so needy for us. I wonder how she got this way!" Yunho cooed while touching the other side of your back.

"She was squirming at the way that your crotch would occasionally brush against her backside and her body was so hot..." Mingi's hand languidly moved along the warmth of your skin, sensing the smoothness of your flesh beneath his fingertips.

"Hngh...~ p-please...~?" You whined, drawing a blank as to what you were begging for. Arousal freely seeped from between your legs and the intense craving to be filled was overwhelming your sensibility to preserve your dignity.

"I'm not going to do anything unless you tell me what it is that you want." Mingi smirked as he stopped his hand at the small of your back, feeling goosebumps form beneath his hand.

"W-want to be f-filled up..." You moaned out reluctantly, turning onto your back to seductively gaze up at the two males that stood above you.

"Filled up by whom?" Mingi was enjoying dragging it out, even with the risk of the staff returning to the photo studio was adding to the excitement of the moment. You looked at Yunho then at Mingi, "Both."

~~~~~~~

"Come here, doll." Mingi beckoned to you from where he lied down on the bed, his pants down to his ankles as his feet rested flat on the floor.

You had stripped off your jeans and was now fully naked and you felt little inhibition in the present moment as you sauntered over to Mingi and straddled him.

Heat flooded your body when you sensed Yunho moving up behind you, "You're beautiful as you are in every way imaginable." Yunho murmurs softly and reached between your legs to pet your pussy, gathering your slick on his fingers and moving on to massage your perineum and then your anal entrance with slow circles that gradually gained confidence with each desperate mewl that you uttered while on top of Mingi.

"Just like that, babygirl." Mingi growled as he cupped the back of your head with his hand and pulled you in for an aggressive kiss, easily blurring your consciousness as his tongue invaded your parted lips with a needy ferocity that left you weak in the knees as he brought you down on his hard cock with his free hand.

You whimpered vulnerably from the firm intrusion of his cock pushing inside of your dripping pussy, feeling pleased from how well he stretched you with his girth.

Yunho was groaning from the feeling of your entrance greedily sucking his fingers deeper inside of your ass.

"So good and tight. I wonder if anyone has ever done this to you before?" Yunho asked curiously, withdrawing his fingers from your stretched entrance and shortly afterwards replacing his fingers with his cock.

"A-ah~" You whimpered, being unable to speak because of the pleasurable sensation of Yunho stretching your ass with his length.

"Shit I can feel you, Yun! So tight for us, princess." Mingi groaned as he sucked amarking at your sensitive pulse point.

"I can feel you too, it's amazing! Her ass is perfect, taking my cock so well." Yunho slammed his hips into your body, following the same rhythm as Mingi had set which was a rough impatient one.

Sweet, sexual wails left your lips as you closed your eyes from the overwhelming bliss of your body being filled by cock and used for pleasure.

Your eyes slid shut as you felt your orgasm approaching after several moments of being stimulated beyond your wildest expectations and Mingi's cock was twitching erratically with each thrust that was growing sloppier and sloppier beneath your body.

His moans mixed with your high pitched cries and Yunho's erratic breaths as he gripped your hips and chased his climax.

"C-can I cum pl-please~?" You begged, uncertain as to who was responsible for giving you the go ahead as you helplessly took the pounding that both of their cocks were giving you.

"No, let's get back to work. You three can play later~" Hongjoong's amused tone froze the male models in their tracks and you felt your orgasm rip through you at that moment, the humiliation of being caught pushed you over the edge and both Mingi and Yunho were astounded just as much as the photographer was.

"F-fuck..." You whimpered as you shakily removed yourself from the males.

"You may rest a moment to calm yourself, Y/N. Then we're back to work." Hongjoong nonchalantly remarks as he converses with another staff member who seemed to be shaken by walking in on the three of you.

"Can we continue this later?" Mingi asks near your ear as he held you to comfort you after your unexpected climax.

"S-sure..." You smiled at him weakly and giggled when Yunho nuzzled into you.

"I'm glad! I wasn't ready to say goodbye!"

Tagging @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw and @hanatiny my lovely people I love you sm 💖💘💓

#ateez scenarios #kpop scenarios #ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez mingi #ateez yeosang #ateez yunho #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa

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omnitf · 3 years

Photo

Soulless

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Credit for this image goes to @dissolving-time. Follow this link to see the original post.

If you like this and my other stories, please consider supporting me on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/omnitf

Thank you, and enjoy the story! :D

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I used to be different than the man you see today. They say the industry changes you, and I suppose they’re right, whoever they are. I’ve been a model for ... I don’t even know how many years now. Like I said, things used to be different.

It was just one photo shoot. I didn’t expect to be such a hit. It was a million in a million in a million chance. Audition, smile to the cameras, wear the gear, sell the product, get paid in royalties. It was a straightforward business arrangement. Folks say they like to have models with a lot of heart and soul. Now that I think about it, that’s what the company said when they hired me.

My agent got the call, and then he called me. He barely kept himself from shouting as he told me the details. Daemonique was and still is one of the premier modeling brands out there. It costs a bundle and a half to even have them consider lending you their talent. Runways, photo ops, fashion articles, the works. If they looked at you, if they chose you, then you were in. You were set for life.

I was floored. Naturally, I said yes. I signed the contract and joined my fellow models in the spotlight, and my agent was offered a hefty sum for snatching me. He still lives very well, from what I understand. Daemonique poached him from his firm, something about being a, “devil of a recruiter.” We still talk sometimes, but usually it’s just when he offers me my new assignment. Sometimes, he brings new talent with him to meet me. People worship me, idolize me.

That used to impress me. Now I feel ... indifferent, I suppose. It’s ... difficult to describe. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the attention, more that ... I suppose I slide into whatever they want me to be. That’s my purpose as a model.

I remember when I was introduced to my hero in the modeling community, Nathan Bolaterro. My smile was radiant, my handshake firm and only slightly exaggerated. His smile was reserved, his bearing shifting to accommodate me.

“There are many models here,” he told me, “with many masks, many faces. It’s ... difficult to keep track of what brought you here sometimes, the ‘you’ that you put into your shoots. Make sure that you don’t lose track of it. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He looked almost sadly at a playbill with a beaming teenager wrapping either arm around another two other teens’ shoulders on stage. There were four of them, identically dressed in the traditional garb of the barber shop quartet from The Music Man. I could just barely see the resemblance between the middle left boy and the man that stood before me now.

One of the many agents that runs this place strode through the door then. “Nate, it’s time for your sports segment.”

The model swallowed heavily, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as a result. “Coming,” he said in a low-pitched tone. His gaze darted back toward that photo almost desperately. Then he turned his back and followed his handler out. I followed them into the hall, since it would be rude to remain in his dressing room.

“Do well on this one, and you’ll be a shoe-in for Soulless.” The agent grinned and thumped Nathan on the back. My breath caught at the mention of that great fashion line. Only the best of the best of the best in the agency could make it into that exalted circle.

I was confused when I saw, not a joyful smile, but a frown of unease cross over the model’s face.

The next time I saw him, he was getting out of a session for some sports magazine spread or some other campaign. His body was huge, his voice deep and dull. The familiar brand name Soulless stretched down one meaty thigh in big capital letters over the compression pants and widely across his left pectoral as he scratched the material of his compression shirt with his free hand. “You talking to me, bro?” He didn’t seem to recognize me. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. They seemed almost dead as he stared at me through the open visor of a football helmet. The angular shape of the opening gave his head an almost block-like appearance. The rich hair that had once been so carefully styled was little more than sculpted stubble now. His pupils vibrated, like they didn’t know whether to dilate or contract. Or ... maybe they were trying to, but couldn’t? “The name’s Jock....”

I still remember how freaked out I was after that encounter. My agent had to explain it to me, about Nathan’s “methods.” A lot of the models follow it, apparently. I guess ... I guess I do, too, now that I stop to think about it. There’s a sort of role that we’re asked to fill for each of our shoots. Whatever we model, the photographer wants us to fit certain ... characters, tropes, if you will. These tropes have names, and we don them as easily as we do makeup or an outfit for the cameras. Jock, Brat, Badboy, Greaser, Guido, Father, Hipster, Businessman, and so on.

It’s ... easy to forget your name when you’re in this community. You become almost numb to it. You have to, if you want to survive the media storms that follow you around. Let go of the power that name has over you, and you can usually ignore most of the reporters or rabid fans trying to get your attention. It’s a trick you learn fast in the business, once you make it big. And all Daemonique models make it big. Sometimes, when I have to sign a waiver or some other legal document, I pause and stare at the line, and I have to grope in the dark to try to find the name I cast away. Sometimes, it’s suggested that I just sign with an X, like a lot of the other models do, but I don’t want to yet. I still want to be able to keep that power of the name with me. If I stop using it there, it’ll be harder to ... to ... what? I’m not sure. Remember? Pull back? Be myself?

What even is “myself” anymore? I’m ... I’m not sure.

I’ve taken to carrying the photo that brought me to Daemonique’s attention with me. I find it ... grounding to stare at. Almost comforting, really. I talk to it sometimes, greet it with my name, almost like it’s another person. I guess ... in a way, it is. It’s sort of like a lifeline to me, a connection to the me that was before all the lights and the cameras and the flashes and masks I’ve had to don for the sake of the shoot, the product, the image that Daemonique wants me to fit.

I feel less and less like a person and more and more like some ... glorified prop, a life-sized doll that my handlers change, dress, shift, and adapt to their whims. And the scary part is, ... I’m okay with that. I ... almost relish slipping into those characters and roles now, because they fill that emptiness that I return to when I take them off. The face I see in the mirror of my dressing room is so ... alien to me now. It’s nothing like the face I see when I look at this photo. And that emptiness is reinforced whenever I get in line with the other models for our weekly assessments. There’s no real talking, just standing, waiting, moving in time as the camera shutter clicks, snaps, clacks. The model turns, the process repeats, until all the sides are captured. Then we move forward, and the next one follows. The young bloods toward the back of the line whisper and talk among themselves. I used to do that, too, to be that. Now, ... now it feels so ... unnecessary. I stand among my peers, where quiet is the norm and blank the ideal. A canvas waiting to be painted. A whiteboard waiting to be drawn up, then cleared.

...

A walking, talking mannequin.

Is that all I am now?

Is that all my purpose is?

Is this ... really what I want?

...

Does it really even matter anymore?

I feel so strange, so stripped, so ... empty, even as I stand on that line now, waiting for that photo set. I pull out my photo for comfort. That tiny spark is only so much against the yawning void that’s eaten away inside of me. A wry smile curves my lips, one of the first sincere ones I’ve had in who knows how long.

Did you know that some cultures believed that to capture yourself in a photo was to capture a piece of your soul? By that logic, every human who’s ever consumed media or pictures is a demon, or at least part demon. They consume those fragments, those pieces. And the models and actors and actresses let them. And they fill up with other things and ideas, just like I do when I’m in a shoot. They’re just as empty, just as desperate for fulfillment, a role, even a piece, a taste of the soul they used to be.

I barely even recognize the feel of the textured mat when I step in front of the camera. I stare into the lens, still holding the photo. The shutter clacks. The light flashes. My shadow is thrown up in sharp relief behind me on the backdrop. I blink. For a moment, I could almost swear that I see sharpened teeth bared in a hungry, anticipatory grin. Clack goes the shutter. Flash goes the light. Around I turn. I feel no sense of fear or worry at the sight of the horns. I feel ... nothing. I turn again and watch my shadow flash in front of me, then fade into the nothingness of the backdrop. Just a 2-D silhouette. No substance, no form, just here and gone in a flash of light and the click of a shutter.

I feel no anxiety at the sound of clopping hooves echoing in my ears as I turn again. I’m just going through the motions, following the formula. They want a blank slate. They want the empty. They want a foundation they can build and mold like clay in their hands. Malleable. Easy to shape and control. No complaints. No thoughts or discomforts. Just ... being. Just existing.

...

Empty.

I look down at my photo. There is no more thrill at it. No spark. No joy. No connection. Whatever power it held has been stripped by the camera. It is a person I do not know, a blank face in a crowd. I see no light in those eyes, no life, no ... soul, to use the company term. I see only a picture, a pointless picture.

Flash. Clatter. Flutter. Smack. The photo is no longer in my hand as I turn to face the camera again. The creature before me leers behind the camera as one final shutter goes off, one last flash. He licks his lips as his tail lashes behind him.

I turn and march as the other models before me on the line have done. Another paper is shoved at me. I do not bother with the name this time. An X will suffice.

My agent is there next to me suddenly. The soles of his shoes clunk with a rhythmic clopping, almost like hooves. He adjusts the waistband of his pants uncomfortably, then rubs at the nubs that I see growing from his forehead. He seems to be sweating for some reason. I’m not sure why as he breaths heavily. I can just see the hints of longer pointed canines protruding from his lips. He raises his phone and snaps a picture of me. I don’t blink.

“I think he’s ready, Sir.”

This time, I do blink. When I open my eyes, there is a bigger agent hovering over his shoulder. This one is like the photographer. The air smells of aftershave with a hint of sulfur as he leans down to peer into my eyes. I don’t care. I stare into an abyss like my own. This one has lights, but it it is different than mine was. It is not so much an absence of substance as a consumer of it. For the briefest of moments, I feel what could almost be considered a suction, a vacuous force seeking to draw something out of me, only there’s nothing to take. Nothing moves, nothing comes, because whatever that vacuum consumes is not there.

The grin that spreads across that face is savage and predatory. “Well done.” He lays a heavy clawed hand on my agent’s shoulder.

My agent shudders as his eyes flicker briefly and corrugated black horns slowly begin to emerge from the nubs. He licks his lips, and as he does so, flashes of his sharpening teeth appear in my gaze. He swallows and gulps, and as the pressure from what I can only assume is his supervisor increases, he hunches forward precariously on the balls of his feet as the beginnings of a tail bursts out behind him, having broken free of the confines of the seat of his pants.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” he repeats breathlessly as he stands up again. His cheeks are flushed from the sudden changes that have overtaken his body.

“Keep it up, and you’ll fit right in in no time.”

“Y-yes, Sir.” He smiles almost timidly, but there’s a hint of bite to it as his sharper teeth peek over the edges of his lips.

They motion for me to follow, and I do so without question.

“What will he, uh, it, become, Sir?”

The supervisor grins as we approach a large black door with red gilded lettering on its front in an angular archaic font that reads, SOULLESS. “Whatever we want it to be.”

The door opens, and I step forward, ready to take on whatever role my owners require. I am ready to be filled. I am blank.

“Welcome to Soulless, slate.”

My response is as numb and empty as I feel. “Thank you, Sir.”

I am nothing more than a dummy shuffled from caricature to caricature. That is my purpose and my role. When my work is complete, I am wiped clean, a blank slate again, to be molded and shaped as my handlers please. This is the fate of the soulless, and the soulless do not care.

I am Jock. I am Bear. I am Thug. I am Guido. I am Officer. I am Soldier. I am Father. I am Son. I am King. I am Peasant. I am Extra. I am everything and nothing. I am one of a legion of slates waiting to be wiped clean or filled according to our handlers’ whims.

We are legion.

We are the empty.

We are Soulless.

#transformation #jock #Model #conditioning #muscle #blank #Soulless #slate #no identity #fiction #demons #tf

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