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dropsofletters · 3 years

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runaway silhouette [jjh]

—summary: no one asks about that polaroid picture of a woman yoonoh keeps in the depths of his wallet.

lace, measurements, models—jung yoonoh has worked for the world of fashion for a little too long, but he’s as unknown as the person next door. with his inspiration dying down and his designs getting cheaper by the day, yoonoh has changed his ways. no longer is he the best lingerie designer in ‘silhouette’, the company he works for, neither is he the playboy he used to be and the dulcet-mouthed man that got his way through success.

bad luck has settled in his life, much like it has done on hers. the manager of a hotel that slipped his fingertips when one night she denied him all—the world, her hold, her smile, and just left him with a picture on his wallet.

only when he has to prepare one of the biggest fashion showcases of his life does he meet her again, and he realizes things could never be easy between them.

why is he, a man of fashion, infatuated with such a lovesick, monotone, blazer-sporting hotel manager? no one will ever know.

a runaway has captured him, and he’s not sure how to get his heart back.

maybe, he should start by forgetting that night.

—title: runaway silhouette —pairing: jung yoonoh x reader —genre: lingerie designer!au ; hotel manager!au ; strangers to lovers to enemies!au ; slowburn!au ; slice of life!au —type: fluff ; angst ; humor ; drama ; suggestive —word count: 19,326 (i said slowburn and i meant it) —warnings: mentions of sex (the act is never on paper or narrative)

Jung Yoonoh is dressed to succeed.

With folded white sleeves and a black vest that becomes a second skin, he merges into the office like it belongs to him. It might, at some point in time; an associate after a few years and then, onto another business that was his own—vision, designs, everything. That’s the plan. His suitcase hangs, paces back and forth in the hook of his fist while all eyes cast on him while walking through the cubicles.

Today, Yoonoh is becoming the one in charge.

Silhouette is the lingerie line everyone wants to have cladding their skin. Expensive, intricate and elegant. It’s one of those things people put on when they need to feel their best while also being comfortable. Garments that enamor the buyer and the people who see them. His home for the past two years, Yoonoh has broken his ass to get to the manager position in the design department.

When settling his suitcase on his cubicle, he shares a smile with his neighbor. Johnny, part of the social media team, with his long-curled hair framing his rounded face. Fixing the collar of his shirt, Johnny interrupts him to say.

“Big day today, aye?”

Redemption, he likes to call this day. The payment for the parties he didn’t go to and the obnoxious nagging he stood from his boss, Mrs. Kang. This tall woman with atrocious so-last-season fluffed out coats in bright pink who screams at the mere sight of beige underwear. As she says, it’s tacky and simple, the kind of clothing you’d want to wear when un-turning someone on.

Yoonoh can’t wait until he can make decisions, organize collections, make bigger and better options for Silhouette to expand.

“You see, John, once I become your boss…I’m making you the leader of the PR and Social Media Team.” This place is a nest of snakes. One bite on his first day and he already became smarter. “Can’t be trusting anyone else with these babies.” With that, he opens his suitcase, sketchbook pressed to his chest just as Johnny claps his hands.

“Better position means better salary.” Johnny conquers, as casual as ever in his baby blue sweater

There are a few rules to Silhouette. To any workplace, really, and Yoonoh thinks about this just as he swings his long legs with Johnny following after him like a dog and his tail.

He had written them down in a portion of his brain that keeps his coffee order and his mom’s birthday. He’ll never forget them.

1) Never trust nobody—never say where you come from in business, where you’re headed, what your dreams and aspirations are. Copycats exist everywhere, and they’ll do anything to follow your track if you’re doing good.

2) Say goodbye to friendships but hello to hypocrisy. A smile is needed, but is it real? Not at all.

3) Differentiate your works from others. Being special is the only way you’ll stand out.

One push of the door spreads a smile on his face, brown hair pushed back to showcase his plush, rosy lips and his gleaming eyes. What’s rule number four, you may ask?

Don’t let them see how tired you are.

Mrs. Kang sits at the very end of the meeting table. Always early, never late. Her face is dense with makeup, each wrinkle becoming more apparent as she applies a third layer of bright pink lipstick. Yoonoh knows Mrs. Kang has been the biggest dictator of all—giving him more work hours, destroying the designs she didn’t like from him, and making him get jittery fingers from how much he had to sew and unsew with the sewing machine to show her what his mind had captured. Now that she had found a way younger boyfriend that is eager to give a trip to the entirety of Asia, he’s over the moon.

Because that means old and grumpy Mrs. Kang will be gone for a while, and whoever becomes manager will be, then, the one in charge.

“Mrs. Kang!” Yoonoh greets in a tone that is much too faux, his dimple becoming apparent by the second. The woman looks up and away from her compact, stopping the conversation he is having with his biggest rival in the office. Not worth even thinking about. “Classic always goes best. You look beautiful today.”

She can barely even move her features in a smile. That’s how obstinate this woman is, but one of her wrinkly hands comes up to hold Yoonoh’s bicep when he leans down to press two kisses on each of her cheeks. The old European greeting. “I know, Yoonoh.” She adds, extending her hand towards him. “May you show me your designs? I got here earlier than expected and I have something to do right now so—”

That makes Yoonoh’s smile falter the slightest, just as he opens his sketchbook and splays it in front of Mrs. Kang. “Well, Mrs. Kang, if you let me have a few of your minutes, I prepared a PowerPoint presentation and a video for the collection I have in mind as my desire to become head of the designing team—”

“Silence, Yoonoh.” Mrs. Kang interrupts, going through his lingerie designs for both men and women. It’s not the kind of job people think about when designing, but there is something about seduction and comfort that just works well for him. “I’m in the midst of planning my engagement and I don’t have the time for whatever extra thing you have in mind.”

The room is silent, but if features could talk, the woman seated next to Mrs. Kang would have burst out in laughter. Siyeon is a 4’11 piece of shit that dared steal one of his designs when in his beginnings in Silhouette. A fuchsia baby-doll that turned viral in the blink of an eye once it appeared in runways. Comfortable, sexy, with the right number of straps and the comfort of wearing it at any occasion, companion or not.

Yoonoh had left his sketch at his desk, only to find it gone the next morning. Mrs. Kang was over the moon, both from the money she got and about the audacity of the design. Siyeon had turned it in as hers.

No wonder her husband doesn’t stand her. She’s the devil reincarnate, and slips in Johnny’s DM’s every once in a while.

Yoonoh can’t say he doesn’t have some screenshots saved on his phone just in case he needs to blackmail her. This is the kind of man he has become.

“Done before.” Mrs. Kang flips onto another one of his designs. “Done before.” And then, she continues with the rest. “Vulgar. Boring. Ugly. Done before. Jesus, Yoonoh, did you even try to do anything?”

Yoonoh is used to praise. He has got it from women, throughout his time in college and even at his previous jobs. As an intern, he was refreshing and a nice sight in the designer area. Now, he is the floor Mrs. Kang steps on with her Louis Vuitton’s.

“I—” The meeting room is silent, everyone in the designer team trying to peek at his sketches. A short laugh leaves his lips, though awkward in tone. “We’ll compete against brands like Savage with designs like this. They’re brave and fitted and—”

“Boring.” Mrs. Kang completes, and Siyeon actually laughs at that moment, playing with one of her curled bright red strands of hair. “Yoonoh, I’m being serious. If the women you’re sleeping with are wearing lingerie like this…I’m worried about your sexual health.”

More laughter, and his jaw finally tightens. He tries to tell himself to smile, but he doesn’t, instead, snatching the sketchbook from her.

Mrs. Kang notices this, pushing her reading glasses down her nose before sighing. “Yoonoh, you need to learn how to take constructive criticism. You’re not perfect and I’m here to make you grow.” Says the woman that steps on him each time she can. At this point, he’s practically plastered on the floor. “I’m sure you’ll get to divert these boring ideas into something creative once Siyeon becomes the head of the department. You two have been so close since the beginning and I am sure she will work magic on you.”

“No.” Yoonoh shakes his head just as he plasters a faux smile on his features. “Ah, I—Well, I won’t—”

Siyeon stands up from her seat, fixing the sleeves of her white dress before clearing her throat. “I’m glad of getting the position and being the one, remotely, in charge of Silhouette as Mrs. Kang goes find true love.” This is not happening. Yoonoh rubs at his eyes in case he is dreaming. He has been preparing for this presentation for five months— “All I have to say is…I wouldn’t have been able to do this without the support of everyone here. My team. My heart. I have grown to have a family with you, not because we’re perfect, but because we’re together and…of course, it’s nice to continue down this path.” She hums. “A woman in charge and then, another woman. Isn’t that the whole point of Silhouette?”

His tongue scalds his palette when he takes a seat next to Mrs. Kang, closing his sketchbook with a harsh slap of his hand. Siyeon’s eyes connect to his own, fluttering her dense mascara-coated lashes before sighing.

“I had the pleasure of seeing Yoonoh in his first few days here and he has lost that spark, but I’m sure we’ll find it again.” Oh, everyone gets roses but he gets a few, too. For his social funeral, that is. He really wants to get out of there as soon as possible. “I’m thankful.”

There go the tears, and Siyeon covering her face with her hand, a smile hidden behind the action.

…Has he ever said he hates working in Silhouette?

“You’re going to make me cry, too.” One of the members of the manufacturing team says in between big sobs and Yoonoh can’t help but roll his eyes.

Fuck this place.

After an elongated meeting with tearful hugs and looks thrown his way, Yoonoh is ready to find somewhere else to work in. Keep to himself until he dares get his curriculum somewhere else and stab this company straight in the back. Not because he didn’t get the job…but…

Let’s be honest, it’s because he didn’t get the job and he lost it to Siyeon.

Johnny slips around a few hours later with some cheeseburgers in a plastic bag, dense in cheese and stinking the two conjoined cubicles before he says:

“She’s the devil.”

“An exorcism wouldn’t be enough for her.” Yoonoh replies, tongue itching to say something when he unleashes the cheeseburgers from their confines. He’s only five minutes away from lunchtime, after all. “I can’t believe they gave it to her. Her designs are…I don’t know, like lace over lace. That’s not elegant, that’s not what Silhouette stands for—”

“Here’s the thing,” Johnny says, smacking his lips as he speaks with a mouthful of burger in his mouth. “You never had a chance.”

A pang rests in the pit of his heart when he scoffs. “Yes, I did.”

“No, you don’t.” His friend replies. “Everyone in this office hates you but me. I believe it is a Freudian theory. The Jung Yoonoh Effect.” Voiced out like a movie trailer, Johnny extends one of his hands in the air.

“Sorry for not caring about anything but business. Everyone here are suck-asses and crybabies. Why should I care?”

“Because people feel disconnected to you. They don’t to Siyeon.” Johnny conquers. “The Jung Yoonoh Effect is simple.”

“Stop it. You don’t even know who Freud is.”

“That one psychologist that compared everything to sex. That’s who he is. Hence, why you’re there.”

Yoonoh quirks an eyebrow, playing with a slice of meat that had gotten out of his burger. “What are you even talking about?”

“Interns always thirst over you. At least, five out of every nine people in this office has had a wet dream about you, liked enough of your Instagram pics to look like a freak, or would have your dick in a second if the second step of your effect wouldn’t come around.”

“…I’m not that bad of a guy.”

“But you’re bland. Work. Work. Work.” Johnny moves his hand as if it’s talking. Now he’s playing marionettes. Great. “We’re selling lingerie, and you are always about competition and work. We need you to be passionate.”

“Passionately suck up to people?” Yoonoh shakes his head, huffing in the process. “No thanks, man. I’m not going to lower myself to Siyeon’s standards. Not sure I want to get pink eye from kissing so much ass.”

“Been there, done that.” Johnny sighs, a smile displayed on his features. “I’m just saying, bro. Maybe, change the game—”

Something Yoonoh is…stubborn. He’d die with that title, and it is only enhanced when he feels a long nail tapping on his shoulder, making him turn around. He expects to see one of those interns that try to stumble out words when asking him for his e-mail to send him the summaries or designs they have worked on, but this time around, he is met with Siyeon’s face.

“No eating until lunchtime.” She tuts, shaking her finger in the air.

This means war.

Yoonoh points at the clock on his wrist, showing it to her. Rolex, maybe, he’s spoiling himself with the benefit of showing her he has also earned some money, designs mediocre or not. “It’s already my lunchtime.”

“Not to me.” Siyeon answers, straightening her back. “Maybe, you’d like to listen to me before I kick you out of the team, don’t you, Yoonoh?”

With that, he pushes the burger onto his desk, covering it just as Siyeon smiles.

“Good boy.” She coos, laughing when she turns around and returns to giving a run-around the office.

“That’s it.” Yoonoh whispers, running his hands through his hair, not caring if he messes it up in the process. “I’m designing the best fucking collection one could ever find and showing everyone in this goddamned office that I have talent.”

“Ooh, and where do you think you’ll get inspiration from?” Johnny tries to gossip, and Siyeon’s soft touch for him is shown when she doesn’t even spare him a glance as he munches on his burger.

“I think I have someone in mind.”

###

She’d color-code her life if she could. Hence, it’s still a mess, and while she is as organized as she could be, her mind is still trying to process how to keep the hotel she works in safe and sound and quiet.

One would think that being the manager of a hotel would be easy. A three-star-hotel, no celebrities, no paparazzi’s, definitely not enough rich people who care about their environment. As long as she made it homely, clean, and nice to stay in, it wouldn’t be much of an issue.

The problem is…everything is a mess.

For one, her boss, Sachiko, has not appeared in the last two days into the hotel. None of her well-prepared summaries, in Times New Roman twelve, with enough punctuation to make it look like a contract, have been read. The maids keep talking amongst themselves, gossiping instead of cleaning. They got a bad review on their restaurant because the head of the cooking team had decided to shout to one of the clients about how ‘they didn’t have an ounce of taste’ because they disliked the taste of his Ratatouille and oh, how to forget? The fact that her duties as a manager transcend to something else.

She rushes through the kitchen, heat and smoke accompanied by the sizzling of veggies and meat. She doesn’t care that there are flames around her, or that she bumps into one of the cooks in the process.

Sachiko has a mini version of herself, gift of a getaway with her ex-husband to try to make her marriage work. Then, came the five-year-old that had slipped her hold as she was attending one of the residents in their hotel at the entrance, granting them information about the type of rooms they offered. Erika, in all her round-faced glory with grabby hands and too much energy, had slipped from her line of sight and her hold.

She has roamed the entire hotel and she can’t find her.

Oh, then, she should change her statement that she hasn’t seen Sachiko in two days. She has. Sachiko’s heels have clicked against the tiles of this hotel. Only to leave Erika with her, spitting out excuses about having to get on another meeting for the expansion of the hotel, before she’s off the hook of being a full-time mother.

She doesn’t even get more payment for this.

“Have you seen Erika?!” She asks out loud, voice strained from so much shouting, only to watch the head chef speak, his moustache moving with each word he says.

“Oh, little Erika?” Well, seems like he has a soft spot for someone. His eyes glimmer, just as he wraps his hand around his mouth, as if to utter a secret. “She’s in one of the tables. She asked for two milkshakes already. Oreo milkshakes. She’s starting to jitter.”

“Mr. Oh!” She whines, throwing her head back with a groan before splaying her hands on her hips. Navy blue uniform as a simple suit giving her the most boring yet comforting outfit she could come up with. “I am the one that has to get her to sleep, and if she has sugar before bed, she won’t even close an eye—”

Mr. Oh shrugs. “What am I supposed to say? She’s my boss’ daughter.”

“I am your boss as well.”

“You’re getting me fired?”

She can’t even answer to him, hearing the Baby Shark song spoken at the top of someone’s little lungs. Her feet are rushing out of the kitchen by the time she notices it, blazer opening up when she gets to the table Erika is in. Red walls and marble tables don’t scare her, playing with the straw of her drink and grabbing someone’s phone to listen to that fucking song again.

“Erika…” She tuts, voice stern, hands spread out on her knees. This cardio routine has been enough to make her burn all she has eaten this month. The little girl’s short hair caresses her cheeks when she turns towards her, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to your room and wait for mommy to get here.”

“Nope.”

“Yes, Erika. I am not playing.” Her voice levels itself, only to have Erika staring back at her. Big brown eyes blinking, playing with the edge of her pretty pink dress before sighing.

“But you won’t let me…let me watch my shows.” She takes in a breath, shuddering it out as a pout splays on her lips. “Y—You…mommy said you’d be with me, but you aren’t with me at all—”

Tears wield her eyes and she has to rush to cage her in her hold, hoisting her up before a big wail left her lips and she lost her job. “I’m sorry, Erika. I’ve been so busy, I hadn’t realized.” She mumbles out, pressing her cheek to the top of her head before sighing. “Do you want to give a walk around the hotel and go back to your room to watch as many shows as you want?”

She has to play good cards here. She’s not raising this child, after all, so if the long hours of TV-watching make her turn out bad when she’s a teen…that’s not her business.

Erika nods continuously, engulfing her arms around her shoulders. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

At least, she has found Erika before Sachiko arrives the next morning, but her body practically glues itself to the floor in tiredness by the time she slips out of the restaurant.

The best part of being a manager is when she gets back home.

###

“So, you’re saying you practically lost your job?”

Yoonoh’s life revolves one thing. Those four walls of his cubicles, the connections he has gotten from his workplace and his elongated list of explanations that always go unheard. In any other occasion, he would have been delighted of being given the benefit of lying. Casual relationships are more of his thing and explaining his every insecurity, recollection of time or worry isn’t part of the plan. Carnalities? Sure thing.

A hook-up turned friend with benefits pushing him by the chest and practically gasping when he sighs? He didn’t think it’d end this way.

“Mia,” His voice rasps out, leaning back on his calves while hovering over her. Her bed is as pristine as always, the rosy satin sheets from last week turned into beige, deep fibers that do sound too elegant for them to do whatever they are thinking of in the bed. “I didn’t lose my job, I just didn’t become the head of my department, okay?”

He’s trying to spell it out, but the model is just as confused. Mia had modelled for Silhouette a bunch of times in the last two years, and that’s how he met her. Fitting one of his designs to her will had led him to be asked out on a date and then, the contract came about. Just sex, nothing more.

Mia scrambles away from underneath him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as if repulsed. As if she had kissed an ogre itself. “Yoonoh, you’re practically jobless—!”

“I am not.” He sighs out, trying his hardest to concentrate on anything around the room. The tall ceilings, the conversation at hand, anything but the obvious problem in his boxers right now. “I swear, I will just be working for Siyeon but it’s for a period of time. I’m sure I’ll get her position soon enough.”

“Oh my God,” Mia pushes her long brown hair away from her shoulders, widening those innocent eyes of hers, sharp cheekbones lifting in distaste—not even a smile of comprehension. “I can’t believe I almost slept with a good for nothing. You told me you’d get that job and now you didn’t?”

“A good for nothing?” Yoonoh stands up from that bed, hands on his hips when Mia nods, once and then twice.

“Your dick is good, but not that good.”

Is this the day Yoonoh’s ego gets bruised to shattered little pieces that poke at his feet like glass? Perhaps.

Is this the day Yoonoh lets that pang of pain in his chest become visible? Not at all.

“Were you just with me because I was probably going to be a manager?”

“Silhouette is—listen, they are established, but it’s not what I had in mind.” Mia puts on her robe, covering her Goddess-crafted body before picking up a glass of the wine they had been sharing. “If you became manager, I’d have more connections with other teams. I would probably be in better runways and—”

“I’m not your manager or your little linking buddy, Mia.” Yoonoh complains, chest flushed when he seethes, pushing the strands of his dark hair away from his face. “We’re just having fun. I wasn’t going to bring you as my plus one when we had already established—”

“I don’t know if you notice,” She starts, licking her lips in elegance. “But you’re…you’re going to end up alone, Yoonoh. All you do is work, you’re always tense and silent and…a little bit boring, if I’m being honest. I am definitely the closest thing you’ll ever have to a relationship.”

Oh, no. That’s the thing he hates the most. How the world has been divided in romanticists and hard-workers. You’re one of the other, can’t ever be both, and sometimes, he feeds into that stereotype. He knows he doesn’t have time to fully sit down and talk to someone about his interests, let his heart be wandered about like a museum, but somehow…hearing anyone tell him that he’s tense, silent, boring…doesn’t sit well with him.

He shrugs, eager to poke just like done to him. “Good thing I never wanted a relationship with you to start with.”

Mia gasps at that, plush lips parted before she’s opening the window of her one-floor home. Elegant, but still not the grandest thing out there. “Oh, is that so?”

“You happen to be presumptuous, superficial and now, a complete opportunist—” He says, walking behind her until she turns around, her robe falling off one shoulder when she points at the window, crisp air whisking the tension around.

“Then, leave.”

“Okay.” He’s about to turn around and grab his clothing, when he feels her tugging at his taut forearm.

“Not through the door. You don’t get the benefit to do that.” Once again, Mia is pointing at the window and that catches a chuckle out of Yoonoh, that rises and rises in tone.

“I won’t get out through there.”

“I didn’t ask you. I told you to.” With that, she’s pushing at his chest, trying to get him out as he scrambles to get a hold of her.

“Mia! Are you fucking insane?!”

“Tired of your bullshit, Yoonoh. That’s it.”

Mia is, perhaps, not stronger than him, but for someone who walks on runways…she’s mad strong. Maybe, it’s the necessity to get him out of her home or the flying atrocity of her train of thought that has him stumbling backwards in one of those moments. In just his boxers, the prickling of the grass and the flowers in Mia’s garden caress and poke at his skin, tickling in enormous amounts just as he falls into the most embarrassing position he has been in.

The moonlight seeps over his skin, a groan ripping from the depths of his soul at the ache on his back when he hears the window closing, not without a few words from Mia: “And don’t you dare call me again, asshole.” And maybe, he would have laughed at the stupidity of the statement, because throwing someone out of a window is definitely not a reason to call someone back, but now, he’s much too surprised and in pain.

###

She wishes she was back to being a kid.

It’s a thought she has when the days are tough and uncertainty fills her, like a vase that is neither half full or half empty, but just stuck. In this town, with a job that she had wished for years ago, that takes away every ounce of will and thrive that she ever had. Days are tiring, nights even more so, and sometimes, she wishes the lake would stop being so calm. For it to be some movement, some waves, some dance of life that tells her: ‘this is something new and I give it to you because you deserve it’.

Instead, she’s walking alongside Erika, whose little feet in her elegant tiny boots are kicking a rock on the sidewalk. They had decided to walk for another block near the hotel, houses scattered in their glow in this enchanting night. It’s a moment of quiet, and she relishes on it, sending a look to the rock and to the little girl, just in case she’s not warm enough or she’s tired.

Oh, how she wishes she was tired.

Erika calls out her name, soft and through a pout, in a way that makes her sound like her age. Very much little a baby. “…Why do…why do girls your age never like boys?”

“What do you mean?” She questions, a smile on her face when sparing Erika a glance. A shrug is given. “I think boys are cool. Not all boys, but some are.”

“Mom doesn’t like my dad, and he’s a boy.” That must be the way she explains her parents’ divorce, but how she’s involved in that? She has no idea. “You…you don’t have a boy. I never hear you talk about boys.”

You see, she hasn’t dated in a while. A while as in…years. Comes to be, building trust into someone after having another person shatter it for you is not only difficult, but somehow near impossible. A plane ticket had said farewell to her in-person relationship and she had embarked in this immense long-distance relationship with too many tears and too much longing. He was distant after a while, and she blamed it on time differences…

Time differences that were proven to be someone else when she called him to tell him she had saved money for seven months just to visit him, only to hear him with another woman.

Another woman who claimed to be his girlfriend of four years.

Not one. Not two. Not three. Not even three and a half. Four.

“I don’t know.” She starts, trying to find the best way to say this. “We don’t always need a boy, Erika. Us girls, we don’t. The only people we need are our family, our friends and ourselves. Princesses can still be pretty and have a lot of people looking up to them without a prince.”

“Like Moana?”

“And Merida.” She completes, a smile on her face when she tugs the little girl up to scoop her in her hold. “Your mom has a hotel and she takes care of it very well without a boy. That doesn’t mean your daddy is not important, but they are happy even when he doesn’t have a girl and she doesn’t have a boy.”

“Then,” Erika plays with the collar of her white button-down. “We all have to be in pairs?” She stops.

“You mean couples?” Erika nods. “Oh no, honey, not all of us have to be in pairs or be part of a couple.” She chuckles at Erika’s innocence. She must be a bit insufferable, but still a kid. With the nightly air blowing at her face, she sighs. “We can all be with anybody, depending on who we like, girls…boys…your mom has told you that, right?”

Humming, Erika opens her mouth to speak up. “Yep.”

“Good girl.” She coos, smiling in the process. “Do you know what decision means?”

“Yes.” Erika conquers. “Carrots or potatoes, like that.”

“Exactly. What you choose is your decision.” She’s trying to make this easy for her. “Your mom doesn’t have to love a man, because that is her decision. As long as she loves herself and you, she’s already complete.”

“And you?” Erika questions.

She hadn’t thought about it in years. It didn’t feel right to be next to someone else, and she doesn’t know if that falls on her a little bit. Loneliness is inherent, this wandering thought that comes to her when she stops and wonders if there is someone out there. Not to complete her, because she’s already full by being on her own, but to support her.

“I am complete, too.” The answer is simple, tucking a strand of Erika’s hair behind her curved little ear. “So are you.”

“I am complete!”

“Yes, you are.”

Something interrupts them just as they pass by a cream-colored house. A groan comes from the flowers planted in the front-yard, and that has her stopping. Flowers don’t talk, obviously, but if someone is hurt—a dog or a human, she has to check.

More groaning and then, she sees a peak of milky skin under the moonlight, paired with tousled black hair. A man is standing in between the bushes, with his lower half thankfully covered by the plants, a short small nose, decently sized lips and a face that speaks anything but a good time.

And he’s half-naked. Only in boxers.

Her hand comes upwards to cover Erika’s eyes just as a loud gasp leaves her lips and she screeches: “Pervert!”

“No, no, no!” The man in question shushes her, lowering his body until even his taut chest and abdomen are covered. His eyes widen comically, and she has to shut her mouth to hear him speak. “I’m not a pervert, I promise! I know this looks wrong but—”

“You’re hiding in the bushes without clothes on, sir. This is definitely something illegal—”

“I was with a woman,” He sends a look towards Erika, levelling his words just because a kid is there, trying to snatch her hand away, but its grip is tight like iron. “And she threw me out because we had a break-up. Kind of. Not serious enough to call it a break up but…my clothes are inside and she won’t let me in. I’ve tried for such a long time. I was hiding until someone passed by but…no one did.”

Still far away from him, she quirks an eyebrow. This relatively, conventionally handsome man had been kicked out by a woman…almost ass-naked?

Talk about an attitude.

“Well, I’ll call someone over to help you out—” She’s about to move again, not completely trusting the man in the bushes when he calls her over with a hiss from his lips. A mix of ‘psst!’ and ‘hey!’ that obnoxiously makes her stop to turn around, still covering Erika’s eyes. “What?”

His eyes glisten when he says: “Help me.” He must be some kind of boss. The stranger says these two words like she has to do it, and she would have turned around again had it not been for those plush lips saying: “Please.”

“What do you want?” She questions, only to have him smiling.

Oh, there is a dimple there. A very profound and albeit, a bit attractive, dimple.

“Clothes.” The stranger adds. “Can you buy me some clothes? I promise I’ll pay you. I just need to get out of here. I think a cockroach bit me in the ass.”

“Language.” She spits out, just as Erika tries to wiggle away from her hold and repeats:

“Ass!”

“Erika!”

“Sorry.” He says again, bringing his hands together in a plea before sighing out: “I need them right now.”

She fixes Erika’s hold around her body, before rolling her eyes hard enough so she cans see the back of her head. “Fine. I’ll find you some clothes.”

###

Erika won’t take care of the family business. She’ll be a stylist, for sure.

The only thing opened at this hour of the night that doesn’t cost her a big portion of her salary is the thrift store and after endlessly explaining the situation to a very eager Erika, she is watching the little girl moving around the store as if she owns it, grabbing clothes here and there in a hassle.

“Erika, be careful. We can only pick three pieces of clothing!” Not that the teenager by the counter cares, popping his bubblegum in between his thin lips, looking down at his phone and tapping on it with a speed that a piano player would envy.

“We have to make him look cute.” Erika tries to say in her most professional voice, and she has to sigh. She will definitely not become a mother anytime soon.

“Yes, but we also have to make it cheap. I don’t have much money in this suit.”

“Yes, yes.” Somehow, she feels like Erika is not listening, pulling at a t-shirt on a table nearby, only to unfold it and give it to her. Her body is so small that she couldn’t see the imprint on the front. As her babysitter of the night, she expands it over her chest, only to watch something within Erika lighting up. “I like it!”

“Good,” She checks the price after muffling a laugh at the words written at the front. “It’s cheap. We can get it.”

Small steps patter against the tiles of the grand store before she’s tugging at the leg of a pair of pants she found on a rack, too tall for her to grab.

“This, this, this, I want this!”

Those ones are a little bit pricier, but when she gets them out of the rack, a smile finally spreads through her features. She has to get it. “You have a gut for styling, little one.”

Erika straightens her back in pride, fisting her small hands before nodding. “Thank you. Want me to buy one for you?”

She chuckles at her words. Definitely not, but she masks it by saying. “We don’t have enough money tonight. Another time.”

###

Props to the man whom now she knows is called Jung Yoonoh…he doesn’t look half as bad in those clothes as anyone else would.

The milky way spreads on Erika’s pupils when she leans on the table that she had taken up in the hotel’s restaurant a little bit over an hour ago. Her line of sight is filled with none other than Yoonoh, whom she had practically cried to just to invite him to have dinner with the two of them. Erika has practically eaten her weight in Oreo milkshakes, but she can’t quite say she is not starving by the time she slips into the leather seats and she smells the delicious cooking from the kitchen.

Compare that to the bland sandwich she has in her locker.

The little girl talks even out of her elbows. Yoonoh, however, patiently listens, trying to keep up with the grand story she has for the outfit she had picked for him. That explains why people take second-glances towards him. Not that he is not handsome enough; the lighting at that house his girl had kicked him out of did not do justice to his chiseled, quite carved face, but there is something about his clothing that captures most of the attention.

A pair of pink flip flops that Erika had picked up at last after they both forgot about shoes. Tight red leather pants that showcase the strength and curve of his thighs, quite lean, elongated legs that she had taken a second look at when seeing him out of the bushes with some clothes on. And, how to forget the old, quite used black tank top that reads: ‘With a body like this, who needs a personality?’.

She had laughed when she saw him.

Her fingers dip her fries on some ketchup by the time Yoonoh does so, sparing her a glance over Erika’s shoulder when the little girl says:

“My friend doesn’t need boys.” The girl adds, wrapping her hands around her mouth before saying. “But don’t feel offended, she still finds boys cool.”

“Some of them.” She corrects, connecting her gaze with Yoonoh’s just as the man leans back on his seat, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, words from a broken heart. Who hurt you?” He questions, quirking one of his eyebrows before taking a bite of the fried chicken he had insisted on getting. Something about those brown eyes seem to capture her perfectly, as if reading her like a book…and she doesn’t like it.

“I’m just too busy to care.” Her voice wavers the slightest when letting out her excuse and then, she scoffs. “You know, that happens when you’re the manager of a hotel.”

“Understandable.” Yoonoh nods a few times before that dimple appears again. “Too busy to care or too busy to date?”

Her face burns by the time Yoonoh asks that question, pleased with the way she widens her eyes. “When did we decide to make me the subject of our conversation?”

“You saw me half-naked, I get to know something about you other than the pressed suits and the obvious distrust issues.” Yoonoh’s tone is playful, that smile never erased from his features, while her frown deepens. She can’t say he’s not correct, but he’s also poking at her nerves with his words.

“I don’t have trust issues.”

He hums. “Your first reaction is to say no to everything. You deny every word that is thrown your way.”

“Because I happen to think guys like you just feel like they know it all.” She comments, taking the same position as him while crossing one leg over the other. Erika just looks between the two, trying to understand this conversation to no avail. “You read and read people, but I can read you well, Yoonoh.”

He expands his arms, showing that ridiculous shirt. May be half true, his body is great, and his personality may be a little bit insufferable. “Read me.”

“Bachelor with a good job who has that ‘rise and grind’ mentality. Don’t take relationships seriously. Can’t look past what’s in front of him and oh, trust issues, too.” She relishes on leaning over the table, watching as his eyes concern the rest of her face, taking in her every feature before his gaze delves down to the fold of her shirt, no buttons opened, but he’s trying to see something there.

“You want me to look at what’s in front of me?” He questions. “It’s you. Didn’t know that was your way of flirting with me. Guess I really do have to thank you for the…outfit.”

“And me!” Erika raises her hand, waiving it in the air happily.

His tutting tone changes when smiling at her. “Thank you, Erika.”

“Who hurt you, Jung Yoonoh?” She questions, mocking the tone he had used on her and trying to stop a smile from appearing on her lips. So, playing around with him is fun, as it seems.

He stops for a moment, as if thinking. The curve of his mouth falls down the slightest and she hears a breath-in that she overthinks about, noticing that there is pain in even the brightest of people. Instead, he shrugs. “I haven’t gotten my heart broken.” Yoonoh says, playing with the strands of his hair, curves of his arms contorting. “Want to be the first to break it, sweetheart?”

“You wish.” She scoffs, only to have Yoonoh dipping more of his fries in ketchup.

“You wouldn’t even kill an ant.” Yoonoh swats without importance. “I doubt you’d break my heart.”

“I wouldn’t want to break your heart, and that’s what differentiates us.” She points between them. “Good cop, bad cop.”

“Excuse me.” A tender voice cuts through the air around us, a young-looking guy with innocent features and glasses too big for his face waves a Polaroid camera in his hold when nearing them. “May I take a picture of you? I have a photography project for a class I’m taking in college and I need to take pictures that bring nostalgia and warmth. I happened to think your little family could be the perfect subject.”

Before she could fully deny they are a family, Erika is wrapping both her little arms around their shoulders as she settles at the center of the table, smiling at the camera. “Cheese!”

Two pictures are taken before she could fully bring a smile to her face, her eyes connecting to Yoonoh’s over the table in a look that she can’t quite recognize. His smile has erased but still, he’s the one to take the picture when the college student says:

“One for you, one for me.” He says, bowing slightly. “Thank you.”

With that, he is gone, but the effect of his picture lingers when she realizes where she is. A complete stranger sits at the same table as her, trying to figure each other our while she should have put Erika to bed long ago, continue with her job and not even look to the sides to see whose lives are coexisting while she’s just working.

“Sorry.” She stands up, shaking her head at her own antics. Helped him, she had already done, and now she has no business to sit with him, grab a bite and just pretend that she doesn’t have things to do. Yoonoh looks up from the picture, eyebrows furrowed when she grabs Erika by the arms and hoists her up. “I—I have to work. I don’t…I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t be here with you.”

“Why?” Yoonoh questions, voice softened when she shakes her head.

“I just shouldn’t.” She finishes, not knowing quite well what this feels like. Casually flirting with a man like him means trouble. “Goodbye, Yoonoh.”

She says those words with the harshest weight of the world, turning around and rushing out of the restaurant while Erika screams out Yoonoh’s name in need for more fun in the night. Nonetheless, she feels someone’s eyes trailing after her, but she knows one look over her shoulder would only bring more questions to her head.

What was the universe trying to do when putting him on her road?

###

There is a picture in his wallet that doesn’t even begin to answer the questions roaming his head. As confused as in the beginning, Yoonoh remains.

He doesn’t know why he stares at it after finishing his meal during lunchtime, the office emptied out of people, flicking at the corner of the Polaroid he would not show anyone even if they paid him a billion won. He just wouldn’t. That ridiculous shirt and those obnoxiously tight pants that definitely gave him a carpet burn that he’s still feeling two days later, should have been enough of a reason not to wonder about the sudden change of mind the hotel manager had.

Maybe, he had offended her. Though, she had kept on playing his game—and he half meant what he said. People like her are easy to read. Definitely an organization freak, perhaps a bit nerdy, with enough worries in her mind to fill an entire book. She wasn’t wrong about his trust issues either, but as he splays his fingertips on top of her placement in the picture, the only one who is not fully smiling, he ponders…

What’s about this girl that has his mind bringing her back all the time?

He closes his wallet just as he opens his sketchbook. A new one, because in his hassle, he had ripped the other that he had filled with all his dreams and hopes. He had crafted bodies, all in different sizes, to design something…and nothing had come to mind, not until he saw her again. That treasure hidden under baggy suits and clothes that he would have never looked at twice if only he hadn’t been captured by the naïve elegance in her face.

His eyes had tried to look, capture a glimpse of the curves around her body, and his imagination gave him more than what he could actually perceive. Yet, it had been enough. Flipping through his color scheme cards, he compares it to the vision he had inside his brain. Conservative, but still enough to feel powerful…

Violet. He doesn’t know why he picks it, but he does.

His fingers can’t stop sketching over the model he has on his sketchbook. He imagines lace and stain, draped thin pieces of clothing over the shoulders. Enough coverage for a one piece…and it comes to him in the form of a muse he would have never imagined. Someone who did not even show him anything, never gave him a chance to talk or fly, because that’s what he had never tried. What Silhouette had never stood for.

The people who are too shy to wear something like what they design.

Attractiveness is a feeling most people should get used to. Being looked at in an adoring light or have a flower thrown their way in the form of a compliment is desired, but has been lost in the eye of lust. Every word of adoration these days has been related to something—the imminent stoppage of the moment for the promise of sex. Never had Yoonoh thought of his designs as something more than a form of self-seduction, with the portrayal of self-love as a higher force for lust, but now, he sees it again.

Lingerie shouldn’t be seducing. It should be a weapon of beauty; a piece of clothing to be taken into consideration, colors that merge well with one’s personality. Not everyone is ready to fully unveil themselves in the light of the sexualized society we live in. Sometimes, people just want to feel nice fabrics against their skin or a glimmer of gorgeousness without showing everything.

The magic of designing is in delicacy.

The ideas come to him then. What was once a two piece for Yoonoh, now is one. What was once see-through, now makes up for riskiness in designs and curves, fabrics added to give more structure, instead of more nudity. Lingerie doesn’t have to be a thin layer of clothing—it can be beautiful, crafted and built.

His e-mail dings with a new entrance, stopping him on his third design as he envisions what must be under that suit—what would fit her and other working people for needing a boost, without actually showing the clothing to anyone but themselves, but soon enough, his face falls at Siyeon’s e-mail.

Subject: The Boss Wants You to Work.

Greetings, my beloved Yoonoh,

Silhouette has been known for its strong stance in the fashion community, and I have been pleased to land a runway show for us in, specifically, twenty-nine (29) days. In light of this, I send you the list of things you have to do:

1) Design a set for the main male model of the runway, Kim Jungwoo. It has to be a showstopper if you want to keep working with him. I need this to be sent in 6 days.

2) Find a nice and not as expensive place for the publicity photoshoot to take part on. I don’t want simple. I need ravishing visuals.

3) Talk to the newbie models and make sure that said day, the stylists don’t screw up.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Jeon Siyeon.

Yoonoh rolls his eyes before starting to type a reply. The devil must be in front of her computer.

Subject: [RE]: The Boss Wants You to Work.

Hello,

I had already started working on a female set. I’m a female lingerie designer. I think I am not the one in charge of Jungwoo’s outfit.

Sincerely,

Jung Yoonoh.

The response comes just as he begins scrabbling his ideas into paper once again.

Subject: Who asked?

I want you to work on Jungwoo’s outfit. See if you get better while working on boxers instead of bras.

Not as sincerely,

Jeon Siyeon.

Spreading one hand on top of his sketchbook, he rubs the bridge of his nose before he breathes in deeply. Okay, now it seems like he has to craft something for a model that he doesn’t even know about, as well as finding the place for a photoshoot. An assistant, he seems to be now, and Siyeon’s, nonetheless.

But a place comes to mind, soon enough.

###

Devastation comes short to the wails that leave the kid’s lips. That speaks of pleas and pain.

Over a week of Sachiko coming up with different meetings had led up to an expected, yet somewhat uncalculated, road trip to where she hopes to build her second hotel. That said, she won’t stay for a day or two, but for the entirety of two weeks away from Erika. The daughter that now clings onto Sachiko like a koala, hiding her face in the crook of her neck, black hair matching her own as she cries uncontrollably.

Sachiko is at her apartment’s doorstep, luggage by the side of her elongated legs, as she shushes her daughter with a worried gaze. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” Then, she calls out her name, trying to wipe the tears in her eyes with just one hand. “You’ll be taken care of…and I will be back before you know it.”

“Why do you leave?!” Erika screeches, and Sachiko tries her best to reason with her, but her own whines are stopping her.

So, with her pajamas and tiredness lingering within her, she places a hand on top of Erika’s back. “Because your mom wants you to have a great life, Erika. She wants to buy you all you need and for you to have dreams as big as hers.” Maybe, she won’t get it now, but it’s the best she can do to explain the situation.

It manages to make Erika turn around, blinking her tears onto her cheeks. “I don’t want her to go.”

“We’ll mark the calendar…and she’ll come soon enough.” She whispers out, and it’s at this moment that she regrets saying yes to Sachiko when she asked her to take care of her daughter for a little while longer.

A little while longer shouldn’t mean two weeks.

Still, Erika doesn’t let go of her mom. She’s glued to her.

“I made you some hot chocolate, and I have some pudding that I prepared for me earlier.” Because sugary sweet meals seem to make her feel better in these days of uncertainty. This makes Erika widen her eyes, looking back at her mom before questioning her with a small smile.

“There you go, there’s my smiling baby.” Sachiko finishes, putting her daughter down before looking down at her watch. “My taxi is waiting for me. You can call me tomorrow, Erika, okay?”

“Yes, mommy!” But Erika is already moving towards the kitchen to grab a mug of that sweet, sweet hot chocolate.

She knows sweets are her weak point.

The only weak point she has.

“Make sure she sleeps early, okay?” Sachiko says, and all she can do is nod.

“Sure thing.” I can’t promise a thing, she thinks.

“And that she doesn’t eat too many sweets. I’ll let this one slide.”

“Only veggies.” She says as she grabs her doorframe in between her hold. Only to give her something sweet after she throws the veggies at my face, her mind replies.

“Thank you.” Sachiko adds over her shoulder, a smile to her face. “I know it’s difficult, but I really don’t have any family to take care of her and I really do trust you. I promise to pay you well after all this.”

That’s a nice start.

“Don’t worry. Me and Erika get along well.” That’s not a lie, but taking care of a kid is extremely tiring. “Just get in your taxi. We’ll be fine.”

With that, minutes pass by of complete silence, Erika’s eyes trained on her phone, blasting Peppa Pig, with one or two hiccups escaping here and there as she drinks her first mug of chocolate. She joins her, slicing another bit of cake and shrugging off whatever thought appears inside her brain.

The chocolate merges on the roof of her mouth, warming her to the tip of her toes, each aching muscle after hours of working relaxing, even a bit entranced by the show she’s not watching, but might be brain-washing her just like the rest of the kids.

“Another one, please.” Erika says after finishing her episode, extending her mug of chocolate towards her before she smiles sweetly.

She shakes her head. “Mom said no sweets.”

“Please?” The little girl drags with dulcetness in her tone, but she repeats the previous action.

“Nope.”

Erika places the mug down, head laying low before she repeats: “Chocolate, please!”

“I said nope.”

The kid stops for a moment, thinking as the sound of the dishwasher starting up as she cleans the mugs and the plates, and just then, her small voice is heard again:

“You don’t give me chocolates because you’re sad about Yoonoh?”

That makes her halter all steps. Yoonoh. The man that she had met days ago. Adonis without a shirt on, and then some weird 2011 wannabe that happened to have dinner with her and Erika. The lingering flirtations between the two had not been forgotten, those pair of eyes that somehow seemed to want to strip her of her utmost secrets, only for her to back away.

Yoonoh means trouble.

“I am not sad about Yoonoh.” She adds, turning around with her damp hands ending up over her waist. “Why do you think I’m sad about him?”

“Because he’s your boy!” Erika screeches as if it’s the most obvious thing, and she’s starting to get tired of the kid’s insane romanticism mixed with optimism. Sure, she’s a kid, but Disney should start making less princesses with a prince. “Mommy explained it to me.”

“What did she explain?” Not that she’s understanding a thing, but please, she does need to be enlightened.

“I asked mommy how people acted when they were in pairs.”

“When they are couples.”

“Yep!” The grin on her chubby cheeks is enchanting, but by what she’s saying, she’s about to ask Sachiko to pick her up again. The love talk is not her thing. “And she said boys smile a lot and they speak weirdly, like things I can’t understand.” That is a way to put it. “And the girl looks down a lot…and I don’t remember what else she said, but you did all those things with Yoonoh. He is your boy!”

“Boyfriend, not boy.” She corrects, turning around to continue to wash the dishes. Was he smiling at her? She had seen the dimple, but she hadn’t thought that he had beamed around like a madman. “And he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t have one.”

“But why?” Erika drags her voice.

“We already had the talk of Moana and Merida.”

“I get that. I’m like them. I don’t want to be with boys.” She utters innocently, standing up to tug at her sleeve. “But you are with Yoonoh.”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, laughter escaping her lips. “You hit your head, Erika.”

“I didn’t!” The little girl says, scratching her head just in case. “You’re a princess. He’s a prince—”

“Erika!” She stops her, interrupting her with ease before sighing. “I met Yoonoh the day we saw him, and I didn’t like him that way. We aren’t even friends.”

She juts out her lip. “I wasn’t friends with Mina either.” That’s Erika’s best friend from school. “But we became friends in a day. She put a worm in the teacher’s sandwich…” Her voice becomes soft, a blush appearing on her face. “It was awesome.”

“It’s different for adults.” That’s the best way to put it. She shakes the water away from her hands after closing the faucet before patting them dry on a towel. “What would you do if I said I disliked Yoonoh?”

“Nothing.” She adds. “You said you liked cool boys, and he’s a cool boy.”

He’s an overachieving asshole with a nice smile that could potentially enter her heart if she let him, but that should and would never happen. That’s who he is.

“Erika, I’ll tell your mom to ground you if we keep this conversation up.”

That seems to make her stop, grabbing her phone once again—and she knows the password, which is even worse, kids in this generation are geniuses—, before adding: “Does Peppa have a boy?”

“Oh my God, no!”

This will definitely be a long night.

###

His mind is blank. Absolutely blank. Lingerie for men is even more difficult than lingerie for women.

Jungwoo gives another walk on the stage, bleached blonde hair barely moving with each step he takes. He’s in the simple designs, the first launch of Silhouette, as bland as bland can get, and while his strut is fine, he can’t think of anything. Nothing that couldn’t be just a simple pair of boxer briefs thrown on a model. He could do that, but that’s so common, so plastered on paper. He wants to do something else, and yet, in the day of the photoshoot, he can’t think of anything.

“Why are you making me do this?” He met Jungwoo a few days ago, and he was actually quite surprised to recognize who he is. A runway model that has been around the world and all over fashion weeks. His dulcet personality and tall frame have gotten him somewhere, that’s for sure. “I should be already in my clothes and ready to take pictures.”

“I have nothing.” In the middle of the hotel’s ballroom, Jungwoo stops walking at the sound of Yoonoh’s voice. The designer looks down at his sketchbook, where he had made the drawing of a body similar to Jungwoo’s and still, nothing came to mind.

“…You have to have something.”

“A pair of black boxers.” He turns the sketchbook around just as Jungwoo slips a robe over his body and ties it securely. “Better than white boxer briefs, sexier, too. All the women I’ve been with likes them.”

“I won’t model that.” Jungwoo conquers, a lightweight laugh following after. “Those look like plain cotton boxers.”

“Well, I just don’t know what to design. Either I make you look tacky or I make you look bland. There is no in-between.”

“That bad?” Jungwoo questions, taking a seat next to him before grabbing a water bottle. “People are going to be here any minute. Everyone has decorated and I’m not sure my manager will be happy to hear that I came here just for nothing.”

A look is spared to the model, with Yoonoh shaking his head softly. He has to think of something. He can’t give Siyeon the benefit of seeing him tuck with a simple design.

His pencil taps against the drawing for a few seconds before he breathes out a few words: “You’re okay with being more covered?”

Conservative and elegant is more of what he has been aspiring for, with that peek of skin that makes the world go around. It’s what he has been drawing these days, but mostly with a muse in mind.

“Sure. I wasn’t over the moon thinking my ass was going to be out in the world.”

Yoonoh chuckles at that, turning the page around from the plain black boxers before sketching something else. “How about a crop top? With a fabric similar to a bralette, and you look better in red than you do in black.” He draws a diagonal line across the ribcage, making slitted long sleeves to showcase pieces of biceps, filling it up with the color red in a quick hassled manner that he will fix later. “Maybe some chains and garments around that wrap up to your waist.”

“I like that.” Jungwoo announces when looking over his shoulder.

“I’ll keep the black boxers. I still think they are classics, and I can talk to the management team to make them more than just cotton.” Yoonoh announces, soon after looking at the picture before clicking his tongue. “I think there’s something lacking.”

“Dunno. You’re the designer, but I’d wear this out of the runway.”

That’s something good, but Yoonoh is thinking of something else. People in real life transcending into their own confident version. That’s what he wants to portray. He draws a suit jacket draped over his shoulders, falling onto his long legs until it reaches midway through his calves, before sketching a pair of pants on the side. Loose, simple, highlighted in the waist.

“We could connect do something like…like suspenders. Office guy turns into midnight God.” Once again, he’s sketching. “You’d wear this, the crop top underneath but I have no idea how you’d show the boxers.”

“Make them low cut.” Jungwoo suggests, eyes trained on his phone momentarily when he crosses one leg over the other. “That way, the boxer’s band will be showing, and it will have Silhouette’s name there. I’d take off the jacket to show the statement piece.”

Yoonoh thinks about it, erasing the line at the waist before drawing the band, and his eyes glimmer at the image underneath him. Not as bad as he imagined it.

“Your ideas are good.”

“Thanks, I’m not just a pretty face.” Jungwoo jokes around, only standing up when the doors of the ballroom come open.

The theme of the photoshoot is simple. A party at the eighties, with beaming colors and disco balls. Darkened walls, confetti, everything has been added to highlight the idea Yoonoh had come up with. Nonetheless, his team is not the one barging in the room when the doors open, instead, he’s met with another darkened suit and a serious face that stares down at her agenda.

“Morning, people. I’m sorry I’m late. I was figuring out an issue at the penthouse, but I am here to help you with any form of decoration or with any question you may have.” The hotel manager stands there. Not that Yoonoh ever pondered they could not meet each other when he had specifically picked her hotel—he had walked through when entering the restaurant, and the three-stars help with the price, but the decorations are immaculate. Architecture its utmost beauty.

Now that he sees her, a smile spreads across his features. Maybe, a bit too soon—in a way that has him pushing it down because it is not possible to get that reaction out of him when it’s not faux. That woman had stood him up without even much of a reason, in the literal sense of the word, took those pretty legs away from the seat and walked away after they had been having fun.

He wore those leather pants. She owed him not leaving him in the middle of a restaurant with her meal and his to pay.

When she looks up at him, a few sentiments flash before her eyes, but he can’t guess any of them. He breathes out her name, capturing her off guard when she questions:

“You remember me?” Her voice is levelled as she moves forward, with a tinge of curiousness.

Yoonoh shrugs his shoulders in his fitted black sweater, paired with dark ripped jeans. “I wasn’t shitfaced. Just half-naked.”

That makes her frown deeply when she looks up at him again. “Don’t you dare say that out loud in front of anyone.” Soon after, she’s talking to Jungwoo. “I—Don’t listen to him. I’m the manager of this hotel and I have no business with this man.”

Jungwoo lifts his hands in the air. “None of my business, but please, do let me hear.”

He doesn’t know why it surprises him that Jungwoo likes gossip. “Why? You’re embarrassed of helping me out?”

“You’re saying it with double intentions.”

Yoonoh chuckles. “I wasn’t intending on anything the night we met.”

“Oh, come on.” She rolls her eyes, making him raise his eyebrows. That cynic voice in her is not something he expected. “We both know what kind of intentions you have with everyone. It seeps from you.”

“Seeps from me?”

“You had no issue going with some stranger after being kicked out of your…your hook up’s house and you were smiling and using those eyes on me and buddy,” She stops, a short laugh leaving her lips. Her index finger extends to point at him. “I’m not a charity case. I’m not in need of a man. I don’t need you to come around and cause me trouble, okay? If you’re here just to tease me instead of letting me do my job, then we’re off to a bad start.”

Offended is short for what he feels. Sure, he may not make a big deal out of hook ups, but it’s not like he’s the easiest man in the world. And if he was, why does she care?

“You’re the one talking about my eyes. I never made eyes at you.”

That makes her stop, holding her agenda to her chest before patting her ponytail in place. “Okay. Fine.”

“You just think you’re so much better than you, don’t you?” Yoonoh spites, crossing his arms across his chest, never once raising his voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, yes, you take care of your boss’ child. You’re so sweet and kind. So in synch with yourself you need no one’s company…” He trails off, pointing them out with the sharpness of his words. “That’s fine, but it’s not fine when you point fingers at people for being with other people. The twenty-first century is calling, they are here to say you can show someone your ankles without losing all sense of rightfulness.”

Scoffing, she shakes her head, a sarcastic smile appearing on her features. “Yoonoh, I know men like you.” She starts. The typical stance people have of him. Men like him. “You’re a…around with a bunch of women, and you use your good looks to your advantage, never care about anybody but you, never take anyone out on a date—”

He gets closer at that moment, lowering his eyes onto her lips before connecting them with hers. “…You wanted me to take you out on a date and that’s why you’re mad about me being a thot?”

“No!”

His hand reaches for one of her ears, laughing when he feels the heat. “Your ears are hot. Have something to tell me?”

“Where’s the person in charge of this photoshoot?” She slaps his hand away, turning to Jungwoo who has the biggest grin on his features.

“Oh, it’s him. The asshole Jung Yoonoh.” Jungwoo conquers with a flick of his finger before he expands his hands in front of them. “But please do continue. I love a good drama.”

“You?!” She gasps that word out as if it’s venom, a sharp intake coming after.

“Me.” Yoonoh retorts, a smirk appearing on his face. “And I happen to have lots of questions about this ballroom.”

He doesn’t, but he enjoys his next thirty minutes, trying to get the offense out of his body by having her carrying boxes—not heavy, but definitely bothersome when ordered by him—and giving her his phone number wrongly three times as she finished up the contract and the bill for the rent of the ballroom. Exasperation is short for what she feels, but as she’s working on that bill, he realizes something.

The shirt underneath her suit is a sunshine yellow, and he may change violet from the position of his desired color on her, because yellow makes her beam like never before. It gives her a powerful stance, standing out even in between seas of models posing around.

Though what she thinks of him has been a repetition of what he has heard before, somehow, he cares a little bit more when it comes from the one woman that has inspired him to do better with his designs. Not that she even cares about his position as a designer.

For her, he’s only another asshole who uses people to his will, and that’s only half correct.

###

“The sexual tension was so thick I had a hard time breathing. Seriously, it was like when I used to steal rated magazines when I was young!”

The maids cheer and giggle to themselves when Blue spits out another version of the story that she and Yoonoh supposedly wrote yesterday afternoon in the ballroom. She has to play with the lettuce of her sandwich, cheek squished against her palm as she watches Erika stare in between the seas of women, following after every reaction even when she doesn’t understand them.

“Blue, don’t say such words in front of Erika.” She tells them, biting on her densely sauce-coated sandwich, before breathing out softly. How could they think of Yoonoh as a dream when he’s obviously a womanizer dressed in sheep’s clothing?

Or the devil. He’s definitely the devil.

“Whatever.” Blue, in her eighties, moves the skirt of her gray uniform before picking up one of the maids. One of the youngest and the tallest, with a long black fringe and moon-bathed features. Chaewon, she thinks her name is. “He told her: ‘Need help with those boxes’?” She lowers her voice to be a faux deep vibrato. “And she said: ‘No, I can do it myself. Thank you.’” That time around, her voice lifts up.

“I don’t speak like that.”

“And then, he retorted by saying: ‘I know, but my arms are waiting to hold something. I think you’d rather it be boxes.’”

More screeches and giggles follow after that statement, and she rolls her eyes because he did say that.

Chaewon ends up being swooped over, rolled around in Blue’s hold before she’s cooing. “I was expecting him to lower her down and give her that kiss that she was definitely asking for with her gaze,” She imitates the actions by looking down at Chaewon. She’s an actress, even at such an old age. “She kept looking at his lips before she cut him off, and you had to say the way his eyes lingered on her…”

“Where was he looking?” One of the maids asks, organizing the towels in their little eating room when Blue lets of Chaewon to let her sit somewhere else.

“He wasn’t looking.” The manager defends, ears heated up…but because of the golden lights here, definitely.

“Everywhere! There was not a portion of her that he simply did not worship with his gaze alone. He wanted to ravish her like—”

More heat, and maybe, summer is coming around earlier than expected. “Blue, stop reading those romance books with naked men on the cover. They’re getting to you.”

Blue laughs at her antics, her curled gray hair jumping around when she takes a seat in front of her. She continues to bite on her sandwich. “Aw, come on, boss. You can’t expect us not to want to see you with that man.” She covers her mouth to lower her voice before whispering: “He’s sexy.”

“Jung Yoonoh is anything but that!” She defends, leaning back on her seat and trashing the last bit that was left of her sandwich. She opens her water bottle and gulps it quickly.

“Look at that heat!” One of the maids adds, and Chaewon nods in return. “How does he look like, Blue? He sounds like a dream.”

“Pecs over pecs over pecs. He had…” The oldest woman curves her hands in the air and the manager has to scoff.

“Stop thirsting over him.”

“His girlfriend over there will get jealous but you had to see that sweater on him. That man is lean and had the sweetest, prince-like face. But not the kind of prince that wants you for his kingdom, having you wearing proper dresses and greeting the crowd.” She stops for a second, thick silence lingering in the air before she adds. “But the kind of prince that sneaks you into the castle to show you ever room—”

“More sexualization, great.” Her knees buckle when she picks Erika up from her spot in between the maids. “I have a meeting with the valet team. You better stop talking about this if you don’t want me to talk with Sachiko about your disrespect towards our clients.”

She opens the door when Erika wraps her arms around her neck, turning around to wave to the maids. “Bye!”

“Bye-bye, honey!” Blue waves back, returning to the crowd to say: “And his hair—”

She has to close the door with a bang as a huff leaves her lips. Everything has been about Jung Yoonoh these days, but what is the sudden obsession to have her paired up with someone who will definitely shatter her to pieces?

Every thought about him shall be erased as soon as possible now that he has finished with his photoshoot. She won’t hear about Jung Yoonoh ever again.

###

“And then, she went on to call me a man-whore or something. Practically drawing me as the biggest scumbag to ever exist.”

It’s way over nine at night when he finally has the time to check over what the manufacturing team had done with the design that he had sketched for Jungwoo. He still needed to take his pictures for the event, asking the graphic design team to help him out with the deadline, but that’s the least of his worries. Johnny is by his side, lost in his phone as he listened to his story, being his support for another all-nighter.

He unfolds the blood red fabric of the crop top and smiles in delight. Fitted, with slits that could pierce well into the subject of edge, and some chains dangling in elegant curves towards the waist, with Swarovski diamonds in between. He continues to look through the pieces, pants and jacket as well, when he hears Johnny speaking up.

“She’s not wrong.” He says, still engraved on his phone. “You’re a bit of an ass and you haven’t been in a serious relationship ever since I met you. Even before that, you have been single and into hook-ups. Why are you bothered?”

“Because I am not like that. I don’t have the time to embark in a relationship, okay?” Yoonoh mutters out, placing the jacket down on the table to look at it more precisely. “She has this…this air of arrogance of thinking she’s better than me. I don’t know, like…she just thinks I am some kind of douchebag that gets to her nerves—”

“Yet, still you sketch her.” That is the moment he hears the pages of his sketchbook being flickered at. Yoonoh widens his eyes, turning around to close it just as he says:

“Let go of that!”

“They’re pretty. Don’t be a nerd about it.” Once again, Johnny has taken the sketchbook, turning around to keep it away from his hold. “Are you into BDSM or something? People talking down on you? Women hating you so badly that they are kinda into you?”

Hate. That word is enormous, and he wouldn’t like to use it when plotting what she feels for him. Strong dislike, let’s go with that. “I’m not.” He denies all allegations. “…You just have to see her.”

“Ass or tits?”

“Not that.” Yoonoh feels his own cheeks heating up as a smile takes over his features. Not that he had gotten to see a lot with how baggy her suits are, but attractive is short for how he would describe her. “It’s in the way she holds herself. She’s the quiet kind of powerful. With everyone, she is kind and understanding, and yet, her action speak louder than she does. She’s independent and doesn’t let anyone else help her, even if she’s over the top with assignments and—”

“And it kind of sounds like you’re paying a little too much attention to her.” Johnny closes the sketchbook at that moment, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. “What’s with you, Yoonoh?”

The man scoffs, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just saying. I’m so angry that she’s like that, I just—”

“No, you’re not angry. Real angry Yoonoh? It’s the kind of Yoonoh we see with Siyeon. Not this one, talking about how he loves someone’s kindness.” His eyes trail over to his sketchbook, then to the design for Jungwoo before he’s ripping one page out and jotting down a message for the manufacturing team. It’s alright, he just wants a few more diamonds. “Come on, man. Talk about it. Mama Seo used to say there are no secrets in this household.”

“What do you want me to say?” Annoyance seeps from his voice when he looks over his shoulder. “Yes, I was interested. Yes, I guess we kind of flirted. Yes, she still ran away and yes, she absolutely despises my guts?”

“…She blew you off.” Johnny says that as if it’s the biggest announcement in the world.

Yoonoh shrugs. “Yeah, so what? It’s not like I asked her or made it known—”

“For the first time in his life, Jung Yoonoh didn’t get blown, he got blown off!”

“Johnny, it’s not funny—”

“I have to see who this woman is.” Johnny gets his phone out of his pocket, opening his Instagram app before he’s lurking for her. “What’s her name?”

Maybe, curiousness got the best of him when he stands behind Johnny, looking over his shoulder when he rasps out her name.

“There we have her.” His friend announces just as he clicks on the first account. “Private. I can’t really see her face in the profile picture.” It’s the silhouette of a woman, most likely her, in a sunset. Her hands are fisted deep in her pockets and she must be looking at the sun. “Should I message her? Something like: ‘Hi, if you don’t want to date Yoonoh, I’m single and the second-best option’?”

He’s joking around, yet, Yoonoh stares longingly at that picture. Something about her is so lukewarm that he finds himself at peace. He has always liked everything scalding hot—his relationships, his hook-ups, his meals, even the days that he spends at the beach, but now, he is interested in silence and tranquilness. In that lukewarm nature that comes within her, never too cold, never too hot.

“No.” His voice sounds unused when he finally speaks up. “Leave her be.”

Johnny’s eyes inspect his features. “Dude…there is really something about her, isn’t it?”

“I’ll never know, I guess.” Yoonoh finalizes, shrugging his shoulders before moving towards the edge of the room and turning off the lights. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

###

“I won’t take a bath! I don’t want to!”

Five days from Sachiko’s arrival and she already feels like breaking. Breaking down or breaking out of her home, one or the other. Erika screams at the top of her lungs while rushing out of the bathroom, still very much in her pajamas, to sit down in front of her TV and watch another cartoon.

She throws the towel over her shoulder, eyes half-closing from tiredness when she breathes out softly and approaches her again. “Erika, get in the bath. It’ll be quick.”

The little girl shakes her head, hugging her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Sometimes, I don’t want to either, but you have to.” She announces, taking a seat next to her to run her fingers through her hair. “Come on, Eri, it’s just a bath.”

“Nope.” The little girl mumbles, growing more annoyed by the second.

“You’ll stink. You don’t want anyone to smell your scent if it’s bad.”

“It’s okay.”

“Someone will come visit us.” She doesn’t know why that’s the first excuse she comes up with. Truth be told, none of her friends live in this city, and her family are nowhere near either. Loneliness is something she is used to, and she doesn’t like being the house’s host all that much, either. “And you really like them, so we need to bathe you before they come.”

Erika raises her eyebrows, a big smile appearing on her face: “Peppa?”

“No, not Peppa.” From the back of her mind, she can’t think of anybody who will come here that Erika really likes. She’s not entirely obsessed with Blue, and the woman is too old to take a taxi here. She is not sure who Erika likes apart from her…and Sachiko is not here. “Ah…” Think, think, think. “Yoonoh, my…uh…my boyfriend. He’s coming over.”

The title makes her cringe, but Erika stands up in her couch, hair wild and little fists connecting to her shirt when she says: “He’s coming! You didn’t tell me!”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to take a bath first.” She tries to sound smart, but this is the worst idea she could have. Sure, she saved his number when she was making that bill for the rented ballroom, but that has been about it. Never texted him, never planned to, much less to tell him to come over and pretend to be her boyfriend just so Erika takes a goddamned shower.

“I will! Hurray!” Erika moves away from the couch, rushing over to take off her clothes.

“I’ll go fill up the bathtub in a sec, okay?”

“Yes!”

This is the worst idea she has ever had.

By the time she hears the door to the guest room closing, she sighs deeply, going over to the kitchen to unplug her phone and look down at her contact list. Her heart is racing, eyebrows frowned in worry when she sees it in glimmering lights:

Jung Yoonoh (Never Respond. Not Even If You’re Dying).

She’s not dying, but she definitely feels like it.

Whenever she got a cut as a kid and she put a band-aid on it, she took the band-aid off in one harsh tug. It’d rip some hairs apart, but it wouldn’t hurt—it wouldn’t make her hesitate as much as she did. This is one of those decisions that need to be done that way; as if she’s drunk and she needs to call her ex, or as if buying that dress that she’ll never wear sounds like a good idea today.

The phone rings a few times and she paces back and forth in the kitchen, giving a few puffs out and jumping in place before she hears it.

“Hello?”

His voice is to die for. One of those melodies that anyone wants to hear when they are waking up, mumbling sweet nothings, promising whatever the hell sounds great at the time, and it’s so dangerous that it has her closing her eyes, trying to fight a shiver and not exactly of anxiousness.

“Yoonoh, I need your help.”

A bead of silence follows soon after, and it comes as a surprise when he mumbles her name. She hums in return. “Why are you calling me? How do you have my phone?”

“Don’t ask.” She tells him, about to start her rant when Yoonoh cuts her off with a deep chuckle.

“You stole it from my bill.”

Caught, yet, she places a hand on her waist. “I wanted to save it just in case you decided to call me and make my day more difficult.”

“Oh, if I called you, it’d be to ease any kind of stress.” He purrs out, making her groan out loud when a lighter laugh from him comes about. “What can I help you with, ice princess?”

“Stop it with the names.”

“Boss?”

“I said—”

“Stop it with the names, I know. I will.”

When there is another pause, she knows she can speak, so she does. “…Erika believes we are in a relationship.” He doesn’t scream at the idea or laugh straight at her face, so she sighs. “And she’s also like madly connected to you. Seriously, she never stops talking about you and how you were so cool and whatnot. She only agreed to bathing now that I told her my…” She clears her throat. Shit, this is awkward. “My boyfriend is coming to visit, but you’re my supposed boyfriend and you’re nowhere around. I was wondering if you could come over, I don’t know, for like thirty minutes and then leave, just to fulfill that promise.”

Another elongated silence comes soon after, but it’s followed by a hum from Yoonoh.

“You didn’t say we were friends,” He teases, and she rolls her eyes at his antics. “You still went on with the boyfriend thing. Something you want to tell me?”

“Erika thinks we are together.”

“Erika meaning you.”

“I would personally sew my lips if we were to be in a relationship, Yoonoh.”

He chuckles, though she hears some moving. “Why? You’d want to make out with me so badly that you would want to stop yourself?”

“You wish.”

“Kinda.” Yoonoh confesses and it sounds like a pin falling to the floor. It makes her anxious, because the idea of being trapped in his arms, mouths molding into each other, breaths mixing, tongue intertwining is not so bad when in theory. “So, where do you live?”

“You’re coming?”

“Yeah, but in like forty-five.”

With that, she gives him the address, only to hear Yoonoh breathing into the microphone.

“So, my dear girlfriend, my beloved future wife,” Those dramatics that come with him make her want to slice him in half, but she keeps on just for Erika. “…How long have we been together, exactly?”

“…Since my headaches started coming daily.” She responds, hearing pattering in the hallway. “Call me when you’re here, okay?”

Once she hangs up, she sees Erika ready for a bath by the kitchen’s door, waving her hands in the air.

“Let’s go!”

Kids are nightmares.

###

Epoch hats don’t fit him well, Yoonoh realizes as he sits on a little stool that barely can hold his weight, knees practically touching his chest as he plays tea-house with Erika and her babysitter. Or well, her mom’s worker that happens not to know how to say no.

Erika had gone over the top to make this a grand event, the Peppa Pig plushie he had brought with him when entering the apartment seated in front of Erika, while he stares ahead at the woman that has his mind a complete mess. She is wearing a pair of wings on her shoulders, and her clothing is different, still not letting him see much, but the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants still fit her nicely.

The roles are simple. Erika is the princess, and they are their Aunt and Uncle. Peppa Pig is her sister, and that’s about as much as he knows as he sips on the two-point-five milliliters of water with lemon that Erika dares call tea.

“More tea, please.” Yoonoh says when placing the small cup down and looking at the woman ahead of him. She is the one serving the tea, yet, she quirks an eyebrow at him.

“That’s your fourth cup.” She explains, shaking her head when he tries to reach for the tea. “You’ve already had enough. You’re doing it just to see me serving you.”

“While the sight is adorable, beautiful, this cup is the size of my pinky. I can’t even feel it going down my throat.” He waves the little cup in his pinky before trying to reach for the tea again. “I’ll serve myself if it makes you feel better.”

“You’re too sweet-mouthed…” She looks over at Erika, inspecting them with interest. “Sugarplum.”

“Sugarplum?” Yoonoh questions the nickname, pouring himself a cup of tea when snatching it from her hands before leaning his weight forward, taking a sip that has him downing the entire drink. “I’m not sweet, don’t know if you’re noticed.”

“Quite clearly.”

“May change my ways for you if you stop judging me.” His eyes trail over her features, the culprit of his playfulness spreading across his face.

“Oh, I happen to be very judgmental.”

“Get to know me,” He waves his finger on top of the cup, tracing the outline only to see her gulp soon after. “…I promise the last thing you’ll end up doing is hating me.”

Erika stands up in between the two, her little hands spreading on their chests when she says: “Princes and princesses don’t fight.”

“We’re not fighting, Eri.” She tells her, though she sends a glare his way. “Right, sugarplum?”

“Of course, beautiful.” He uses that same nickname, relishing on the way she seems to be seething at the name. Truth be told, he knows that she’s, at least, a bit attracted to him…but whatever is stopping her must be strong enough to have her stopping on her tracks that first night. His lips wrap up in a kiss he sends flying in the air before adding: “We actually love each other. My kingdom is now better because I have found my truest love.”

“Yeah…” She trails, looking over to the side before she takes a sip of her own tea. “How’s the collection going?”

That question surprises him. She must have supposed he was a designer, much more after all he did in her hotel, but he didn’t think she was paying attention from up close.

“It’s not a collection.” Sweetly, he corrects, voice lowered when he puts the cup down. “I—I’m only working on this one fit. An outfit. We design lingerie, as you could see. I’m normally in the women design department, but my boss which is an absolute…” He stops, looking at Erika. “Witch, changed me to the men’s department just to freak up my head.”

A small chuckle trips out of her lips at the choices of his cusses. “So, you were designing Jungwoo’s fit?”

“Precisely.” Yoonoh takes his phone out of his pocket before displaying something only for her to see. “Erika, you can’t see this. It’s…it’s not something you should be seeing, okay?”

And actually, she listens. Yoonoh can’t understand why she says that Erika never listens to anybody. Her eyes trail over to Jungwoo, and the way they scan up and down have something within him tugging his phone away.

“That’s my design.”

“You’re talented.” Those words shouldn’t weight as much as they do, but he hasn’t heard them in a while. Perhaps, in two years. “If only you weren’t so much of a butt-face whenever we speak, I’m sure that part of you would show through.”

“What part of me?”

“The part that doesn’t try to hide that you care.”

That’s the moment Yoonoh backs away, because he shouldn’t care. It’s easier to go through life without caring about the people around you. The small stool falls behind him just as he stands up, clearing his throat after a harsh swallow.

“I have to go.”

Erika stands up as well, eyes widened. “Is it because she called you butt-face?”

Yoonoh chuckles, ruffling her hair with one hand. “No, I—I think I left my stove on at home.”

He hears the sound of her picking up her keys, nodding in the process. “I’ll walk you there. Don’t worry. Erika, stay here.”

The hallway that leads to her door is far too cramped for the two of them, his shoulders brushing with hers as they walk alongside each other. The part of you that doesn’t try to hide that you care; it’s not like he cares about her past the normalcy of two people who happen to be attracted towards each other buy deny it—

He turns around, his chest expanding with each breath that she takes, oxygens mingling when he looks down at her features, those lips that he would have kissed if granted the permission, but instead he asks:

“Is that why you hate me?”

She doesn’t listen, a deer caught in the headlights when she questions: “What?”

“Because you think I don’t care. Is that why you hate me?” He questions, only to have her shaking her head. His fingers hook a strand of her hair behind her ear, feeling the heat of her skin, much like that one time he had touched it.

“I don’t hate you.” She confesses, honest and yet surprising, before she breathes out in a shudder. “…Sometimes, it’s better to not wonder, Yoonoh. Not be curious about people like you. Not because you’re bad, but because you’re not right, either.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Stop looking at my lips, it distracts me.”

Yoonoh trails his eyes up before engulfing the words in his plush lips. “And what about you?” He questions. “If I’m all types of wrong, what are you?”

“All the different types of wrong that aren’t yours.” She says, just as his chest brushes with her own again, her stomach extending, back bending, body molding closer to his just because of electricity and gravity, she opens the door, releasing a breath that feels like a million pounds of weight. “Good night, Yoonoh, and thank you.”

He nods, and while he wants to return the words, he can’t.

###

Four Years Ago.

She never came back.

Sometimes, Yoonoh felt stupid for believing that there was someone in the other side of the computer. That said chatroom that had once started as complete curiousness had now turned into something else, tangible, present in his every day. He was young, his eyes wandered, his mind stopped thinking about the importance of his future and he thought that Dami was it. The woman of his dreams, the picture that he couldn’t take out of his head when he laid still at night and looked at his ceiling.

His friends made fun of him, because this is not the Jung Yoonoh that had gotten secret notes during Valentine’s Day in high school with love confessions and promises of marriage. This was a young man, seated in front of a computer, waiting for an answer. Waiting for the day she returned, after she said that she’d come back. It was only supposed to be a lunch break, but with no contact other than this chatroom, than what they had in social media, how was he supposed to get in touch with her?

JJH1997: Hey, did I do something wrong? (Three weeks ago.)

JJH1997: Hello! How are you doing? Are you okay? (Three weeks ago.)

JJH1997: I bought that one record you told me about. (One day and a half ago.)

JJH1997: [Picture Attached]. (One day and a half ago.)

JJH1997: Are you mad? (Thirteen hours ago.)

JJH1997: I’m sorry if I offended you. (One hour ago.)

The reply he got soon after, as he was studying for one of his finals, had him widening his eyes. She had not answered in weeks, this was the best news he could hear—

DAMISONG96: This is her husband. Who are you? (Just Now).

His hands shook, trying to find the words to say. Husband. All this time, he had been talking about a future with someone with a husband…

DAMISONG96: I’ve just read your messages. Stop talking to my wife, you fucking kid.

[This contact has blocked you].

The worst part was that he could never know if it was a catfish, if the person he talked about was real…or, actually, that he could never apologize, perhaps for ruining a marriage that he never knew of.

Love doesn’t come easy when you don’t know how to trust.

###

The reason why he became a lingerie designer instead of any other kind of designer is because of the subtlety. His friends think that it is because of the obvious love Yoonoh has for the human body, but as he sits on the front row of his own show, staring at the Silhouette designs his team had worked on, with harsh white lights matching the upbeat and bass-boosted songs that have models swinging their hips from side to side, he feels proud and more.

Jungwoo is the next one to come, and all signs of his beam is long forgotten as he struts down that runway. At first, he does it simply, how he’s taught, the buttons of his jacket are done, undoing them as he walks to showcase the crop top underneath, only pulling it down and turning around to throw the jacket aside and show the top and the chains, along with Silhouette’s name on the band of his boxers. It’s perhaps something not seen in the streets, but he can imagine celebrities falling in love with the design.

He’s concentrated on the faces of the people ahead of him, cheers resounding around the air as Jungwoo finishes off his catwalk. The invitees seem to be overjoyed, and just when a smile creeps up his features, fixing his stance in his tailored black suit, he feels a hand spreading on his thigh, a chuckle being breath out in his ear.

“You’ve done a great job, Yoonoh.” Siyeon speaks with certainty, and to anyone, they are just two friends congratulating each other. He does great work in feigning a smile when turning to her, but what he says is not so kind.

“Thank you. I’m known for that.”

“I know…if we don’t compare that to your organization problems and your endless witty mouth.” Siyeon starts clapping when another model comes around before a beam appears on her features.

Something doesn’t feel right.

“…And what about it?”

Siyeon’s long silver earrings move when she turns to him, quirking an eyebrow in the process. “Well, you see, Yoonoh, the reason why I wanted you to craft a showstopper and to leave with a bang is because…” The acids in his stomach go up, nervousness creeping up on him, trying to keep the dimples there to no avail. “You’re no longer going to be part of our team. Out of all the designs you’ve done, this is your best, but you proved yourself right a little too late. Sorry.”

She’s not sorry, and he knows this. The smile that he has fought so hard to keep there is no longer of his interest as he stands up, pointing at her while scowling.

“You can’t do that.”

“Yoonoh, you’re making a scene.” She tries to chuckle through her words.

“I’ve been working for this fucking company for two years and I haven’t slacked once.”

“Says you,” Siyeon shrugs. “I’m in charge, Yoonoh, and I saw you’re slacking.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have heard that before.”

The air around him engulfs him in a way that almost makes him feel like he’s trapped. He’s out of the expensive hotel Siyeon had found in seconds, but yet, he feels like he has run a marathon. His eyes concentrate anywhere, hand coming up to his chest, his dream shattered when trying to give this company another chance—

The night whisks him in the face as he runs, not caring to grab a taxi, not minding that he feels like his life is falling down…because this is stupid. Life is so fucking ironic that he hates it. He trusts people? He ends up losing. He doesn’t trust them? They never believe him.

What’s the realest way to get a happy ending? He’ll never know.

###

Eight hours of sleep feel marvelous once she gets them back.

Not only has she gotten to return her calls, but it doesn’t smell like baby food in her apartment and she gets to take a break from Peppa Pig. Erika had been sad when letting go of her, pressing her face to her stomach in a hug before she was off to holding onto her mother for dear life. Her paycheck came around, life was good, and this night was excellent with the bag of savory chips she had just opened.

The crunch is the only thing that can be heard, mingling with the noise of the romantic movie she is watching, tears wielding her vision and yet, she pushes them away. Tragedies are the best form of romance—when both characters have gone through so much that finding happiness in each other feels a thousand times more personal. Perfect, even. It’s a nice chance for her romantic comedy binge from earlier.

The air is interrupted when she hears someone ringing her doorbell, and that brings a frown to her features. First, she’s not waiting for anybody. Secondly, she had been crying just now. Grabbing a napkin, she taps it against her ears and waltzes over to the door to see who is standing by the door through the peephole.

And if there was a sight that could capture her breath away just as much as it could make her be excited about something, it’s this.

Yoonoh stands outside her door, with the buttons of his shirt half-opened, a peak of his shirt showing, his jacket thrown haphazardly over one forearm, and if only this peephole let her see lower, she would relish on the strength of his thighs. Confusing or not, as well as a bit annoying, one can’t deny that Yoonoh is extremely handsome. Taken out of a magazine, even.

She opens the door softly, unaware of why he is there. Today, the runway for Silhouette should be happening and yet, he’s here, at 10:45 at night, with his hair made a mess and his eyes trailing on her.

“Yoonoh,” He doesn’t stop looking at her eyes, a frown in his features. “Hi…uh…may I help you with something?”

“You’re right.” He starts, entering her house just as she moves to the side. He must be in a rush. The door closes behind her. “I try not to care about things. I don’t take relationships seriously. I’m an asshole at most times. I’m fake and boring and quite clearly, all kinds of wrong.” Well, that is a statement. She knows there is some good for Yoonoh. He’s always one call away, he’s organized, he’s given. He’s strong and rampant and fiery, in that way that have people shuddering in their spots.

“So?”

“So, yes, I’m fucking tired of being that because it doesn’t work.” He stands in front of her now, in that same hallway that had trapped them weeks ago and had managed to make her even more confused. “I just lost my job and I don’t know what the hell I am going to do with my life. I was used and—fuck!”

Her heart weights down when he admits that. “Why would you lose your job? That outfit you designed for Jungwoo is amazing…”

“Because my new boss hates me, just like you do.”

“I said I didn’t hate you.”

“Then why?” Yoonoh questions. “Why did you run away that night? What about me is so repulsive that you can’t even look my way without frowning when all I have been thinking about since that moment I saw you in the restaurant, in nice light, after getting me some clothes, is that you’re the kindest and most humble woman I have ever met and I would do my fucking best to kiss away every fucking insecurity you have about me?”

Silence comes to be awkward around them. Or, well, filled with tension. But this silence is of understanding. Yoonoh’s eyes that night, that had scanned her with such intricacy, had thought about the same things that she did. And yet, she had let it slide—because it’s easier to fear than to try, to run away than to stay.

“Because…you’re difficult, Yoonoh.” She states. “And I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just know…I know I would like you.” That makes her ego blot down the slightest. “And then, when you realize that kissing me is not enough, that waking up to me is not enough, that I won’t give you whatever interesting shit you were doing when I found you outside that house, you’ll leave…and I’m not at an age or time in my life where I want to see you leave without an explanation. I don’t.”

He finally reconnects his gaze with her eyes. “The explanation here is simple,” He conquers. “You’re beautiful. Each part of you I get to see and each part I don’t. Every bit of my imagination can only think about you, so much that everything I design is everything my mind gushes about and can only perceive on you. It’s stupid enough that…” He chuckles at his own antics, leaning his head back on the wall. “That I think about what color fits you best and I am certain it’s not the navy blue you like to use. It’s yellow, because you’re so bright it practically burns my fucking eyes. You’re so smart and given and you don’t even let me tell you that, because you’re always…pushing me away.”

“Yoonoh—” Her heart flutters at his words, but he doesn’t stop talking.

“And you’re your own kind of goddess and it drives me insane, because I was the type of dumbass that didn’t like the chase, but each and every time I hear you speak, I just want to tease you more and…” He stops for a second, finally fixing his position to look at her. “I just wanted you to know, because if I’ll never get a chance, at least I want to say I—”

Silences are what made them. It’s what she likes the most about him, when he’s silent and concentrated, when all his might goes to one thing and one thing only. She doesn’t know what overtakes her at that moment, when her lips clash against his in a dance that it’s much too passionate. She can’t keep up with whatever she wants to do, her hands hooked around his waist to mold him against the wall, his abdomen carved against hers when a groan traps itself on the back of his throat and he grabs the back of her head, taking more of her in, granting himself entrance, rubbing his lips in a tempting touch before he’s diving in for air…and she’s his oxygen.

Yoonoh’s hold is not strong, overly passionate, tumbling. In his own way, Yoonoh is delicate. It’s just when she kisses him that she realizes there is a beautiful thing to Jung Yoonoh. The delicacy he portrays in lingerie, that translate into his utter fears. The pristine glass he is when she caresses his neck with a touch of her mouth and he shudders while grasping the back of her shirt, asking to see her—to be seen.

When heartbreak happens, there is always a dot. That one finalization of a chapter in your heart that aches insufferably. Her dots connected to him, in one way or another, in the moles in his face or the way he begs to connect to her lips again when she pulls away. He’s gravity when she asks to be taken to her room in one simplistic glance and he’s smiling by the time he puts her down on the sheets.

Over all, Yoonoh is a lover of beauty, and maybe, for once in her life, she feels like art, just when he throws her shirt over her head, staring down at small portions of her body being shown before showing that dimple that she had trained herself to hate.

But who is she kidding? She didn’t hate it at all.

“…You were forbidding me of this.” He points at her body, earning laughter from her, ears heated up under his gaze. “And for that, I’ll never forgive you.”

That night, it’s not a promise of love—it’s lust mixed with something else, that fluttering feeling of having a crush, maybe, or the start of something…how he calls it…beautiful.

###

Normally, Yoonoh doesn’t text. He hooks up with someone, leaves it in the air, then moves on to working. Awakening in his lover’s bed, having breakfast with her, arguing in that way that only they know how to do—playfully, of course—and then having to see him himself off just so she can go to work, however, is completely different.

Just as he lays on his bed midway through the day, he looks at her contact. Missing her would be a statement, and it would be absolutely correct. His gut twists, not knowing exactly what to say—new and yet old in this dating thing.

Uh, can he call it that? They haven’t even gotten out on a date.

Yoonoh: We haven’t gotten out on a date.

Yoonoh: Do you want to?

She must be near the phone, because she replies quickly.

Beautiful: If I slept with you, I obviously want to go on a date with you.

Beautiful: Duh.

There is the bite that he likes, enough to bring a smile to his face before he’s biting down on his lip.

Yoonoh: You didn’t sleep with me when I was employed, wearing suits, confident and flirty. Your standards? Very low.

Beautiful: You’re complaining? Because I could not do it again.

Yoonoh: Who said I was complaining? I was trying the whole time and just when I’m a huge loser, I get the girl.

His life seems to be twisted in circles, cycles that he don’t know how to stop, but a text from her gives him hope that he’ll figure it out.

Beautiful: You’re not a loser. I don’t date losers.

Beautiful: Dinner tonight? I brought a sandwich, but that’s bland.

Yoonoh: It’s a date.

A few seconds pass by before he’s typing again.

Yoonoh: Wait, how do you have me saved in your phone?

A screenshot comes soon after, and he doubles over in laughter when he sees ‘Sugarplum (DNI)’.

###

She has forgotten how to say it, and it’s not like it’s another language, but nervousness clads her every pore just as she sits down by a table at Erika’s seventh birthday party.

Five months into this dating thing, and she doesn’t understand most of it. What she knows is that it feels great. Waking up next to Yoonoh—her place or his—, being kissed on the cheeks, on her forehead, only to be ravished by one of those kisses that he only knows how to give. To watch him grow away from his fears and create his own lingerie line, obviously with the support of his model friends that were eager to take pictures with his pieces and make do with what they have.

It’s difficult, but just as Yoonoh lowers Erika after hoisting her up in the air, always charming with her and with anyone, she doesn’t know how to say it. You know, those three words that have captured her ever since Yoonoh smiled at all her baby pictures, or when he spends some extra time in the kitchen making her favorite meal just because he feels like pampering her.

Three words that she has said before, even jokingly, and yet, she’s petrified.

The trees are tall in the backyard of Sachiko’s home, yellows and reds contrasting the feeling in her heart. It’s pure pink, just like the glow on Yoonoh’s cheeks or that set he had once sewed himself just for her, the one that he never gets enough of and still groans at. Childish music and cake should be enough to calm her down, but just as Yoonoh plops himself alongside her, resting his head on his forearm on the picnic table she’s by, all words she had practiced are lost.

How does he have that effect after five months?

“Erika loved the gift.” Even their gifts had been united. From Uncle Prince and Aunt Princess, they had written on the note. A doll that she had been screaming about months ago when they had visited her.

That word, even he is saying it. If Jung Yoonoh is capable of spitting it out, why couldn’t she—?

“You look like you’re sick.”

That makes her sigh. “Thanks. I don’t see you complaining.”

Yoonoh’s smile grows wider at that, rolling a piece of her hair in between his index finger. “I like the sick look.” He replies. “Something about the sight of a girl who wants to throw up on me. So sexy I could take you to a bathroom right now and just—”

“Yoonoh!”

“There it is, not so sick anymore. Now you’re angry.” He has his ways, she has to admit, and even when finds herself laughing when he changes that glimmer of his eyes that always gets him what he wants. “What’s with you?”

She opens her mouth, placing a piece of cake inside of it—just a little bit too big—when she says: “I love you.”

Or whatever can be understood in between a mouthful of cake.

Yoonoh quirks a perfectly styled brow. “You what?”

“I love you.” She utters out, swallowing soon after before giving him a smile. “Okay, alright, I’m done here—”

His hands gravitate to her hips before she could stand up, sitting her down on his thigh and bringing her face to his by her chin before asking, much too close and too softly for her to ever resist him. “You what?” He repeats, much more delicately, and finally, she finds the reason to stop being nervous.

Those brown eyes look from her eyes to her lips, never getting enough of her, never knowing how to battle the thoughts that show on his features. That kind of adoration she has never gotten before, and that is worth trying for.

She hides her face in his neck, breathing in his scent before spitting out: “I love you.”

It brushes against his skin, tickles him in a way that has him tightening his hold before he replies: “Sounds so good when someone means it.” And that confession is only meant for her to be understood, before he’s pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you, too.”

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct #kpop scenarios #writing #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au

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boydiisaster · 3 years

Note

It's so awesome there's blogs like yours out there trying to provide content for GN and Male fans. It's so hard to find anything even GN, and as a nonbinary person I just want you to know how much it's appreciated! If you're okay with taking requests right now, I have an Obey Me one? Do you have any headcanons on a poly/throuple relationship between a GN MC, Satan, and Solomon? Those two are surprisingly good friends in canon and alike in a lot of ways, I love them both so much!

throuple satan and solomon headcanons

reader: gender neutral, they/them pronouns

tw/cw: a bit of spoilers and fighting/blood mentions

author's note: AWW YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO NICE, ANON :,) i'm trying my hardest to provide more content for other male and gender neutral readers out there, so i really hope that what i write is enjoyable for yall <33 also i haven't the slightest idea of satan and solomon's canon relationship because i'm only at like lesson 30 smth and don't keep up with my messages so i just pulled most of their dynamic for this out of my ass ( ._.)

It was like a cat just met a dog when Satan and Solomon started dating. They have similarities, sure, but whereas Satan is cold and calculated with his spells, plans, and pranks, it's as if Solomon doesn't think. Like, ever.

How was someone so smart so insufferably stupid at the same time? It's as if Satan is his babysitter more than he's his boyfriend.

Oh god and when Solomon ropes you into doing something with him-

"I hate you both," Satan grumbles, checking your temperature and seeing how it's well above the normal temperature for humans. "Solomon, you can't just drag MC on all your dangerous adventures. They're much more human than you are."

"Just because I accidentally made a spell that cursed me with immortality doesn't mean I'm any less human than they are." Solomon crosses his arms at his boyfriend's hurtful words. "Besides, MC wanted to come with me. Isn't that right, MC?"

You didn't speak. That was probably because you had passed out from how incredibly fatigued you were. Your skin was sticky and noticeably sweaty, eyes closed shut while letting out painful whimpers.

"Tell me again just what happened to them?" Satan groans as he opens a spell book. God knows where he got it. He did that a lot. He was like a video game character or something the way he'd just pull books or spell jars from out his ass. He was always the one Mammon would ask for a pencil, because hell he had like hundreds on him at all times.

"Well," Solomon cheekily smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "We went looking for some herbs for a new spell I concocted."

"Uh huh?"

"And MC sort of... fell."

"What did they fall on, Solomon?"

Said man falls silent. "Solomon?" Satan drags out his lover's name, threatening him, to which all Solomon can do is smile again, this time more nervous.

"They kind of, maybe, fell into a bush of what could have been poisonous flowers...."

"What kind of poisonous flowers, Solomon?" Satan glares at him.

Solomon thinks for a moment, then clasps his hands together. "Let's just say that if we don't get Diavolo or Lucifer in the next," he looks toward a clock, "fifteen or so minutes, MC might fall asleep for probably a whole millennium."

That earns the sorcerer a big thwack to the back of his head by Satan's spell book.

That was probably the first major incident where you were dragged into Solomon's dangerous plans, but it certainly wasn't the last. Most of the time you either ended up with several scrapes or bruises, things Satan or Solomon could easily patch up on their own. But sometimes you'd come back missing a shirt or as a cat.

(It's hard for Satan to be mad at Solomon for accidentally turning you into a cat, but he manages it because you were furious.)

... You were a really cute cat though, MC.

A cat was frantically trying to climb up Satan's pant leg. He was out in the garden tending to his flowers when a kitty he'd never seen before made their way through the bushes and crashed into his leg.

"Hello little one," he smiled at the cat. "Are you lost?"

The cat let out a pitiful wail and latched themselves onto Satan's leg. Satan frowned a bit and started to get worried. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

He picked up the cat to examine them. They were a cute little thing with [eye color] eyes and a sleek fur coat. Satan couldn't see anything physically wrong with them. Their paws looked fine, and there was no blood anywhere.

"Did you lose your mom? Maybe your kitten?" he began to muse, then Solomon exploded through the bushes looking frantic as ever.

"Have you seen a cat?" he gasped for air. "About this tall, [eye color] eyes, clearly upset?"

"You mean this one?" Satan held up the cat he found.

"Yes! Give them here-"

The cat hissed and clawed at Solomon's hand, burying themselves further into Satan's grasp. They growled, then looked toward Satan to let out another pitiful whine.

"MC, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Solomon cried.

The cat hissed again.

"I'm sorry, did you just say MC?"

Solomon stiffened. He started to laugh nervously, fiddling with his cuffs. "Uh... would you break up with me if I told you I turned our darling MC into a tiny cat...? If so then no, I didn't say MC."

"You did what?!"

"Oh would you look at the time! I have a meeting with Lord Diavolo I must attend to right now, goodbye Satan, I love you!"

And then Solomon left, leaving Satan to fix whatever spell he put on their partner by himself. Satan wasn't angry about it, but the look of pure rage on your little furry face was enough to let Satan know that if he kept you as a cat for a moment longer you'd raise hell upon everyone in the vicinity.

Having a pact with a demon means that pretty much everything you do is shared with said demon. You feel emotions stronger, god forbid if you feel their specific emotions. You could be angry at Mammon for swiping a bag of candy you bought for yourself, but you act as if Mammon robbed you of every last thing you had just because of the pact you share with Satan. He feels awful about that, even though you reassure him time and time again that:

1.) It's not his fault, and

2.) You wanted a pact with him

Even so, please give Satan cuddles and kisses after he gets all sulky. He acts composed, but on the inside he's so incredibly self-conscious of both his sin and his pact with you.

"You need to be more careful," Satan quietly mused as he bandaged your hurt hands and face. You had gotten into a fight at school because a demon shoved you, and now you were currently inside Satan's room, getting blood all over his pretty carpet.

"I know," you softly sighed and hissed once the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the cuts on your face. "I just, I don't know. It set me off for some reason."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then applied a bandage to your cheek. "It's because of the pact."

"Satan-"

"You know I'm right, MC." Satan didn't look at you when he talked. Instead he looked at his lap, which had the first aid kit he was using to fix you up in it. "I know I talk about this a lot but... I am truly sorry for doing this to you."

"Hey," you cupped his cheek. "It's not your fault. I can learn to live with this. I learnt to handle my greed, envy, and gluttony when I built pacts with your brothers, right?"

"You shouldn't have to though. Maybe it's best if I-"

You silently kissed him. It was a bittersweet kiss, one filled with love yet unspeakable sadness and hurt. Satan was so self-conscious of his sin, yet you loved him still anyway. You wished he could see that.

"Don't finish that thought," you whispered as you pulled away. Resting your forehead against his, you continued. "I love you. Despite your sin, despite how you were born, despite everything; I love you. I chose you, and I wanted a pact with you." You smiled, and Satan couldn't help but blush at your next sentence.

"You silly demon. You really can't see how amazing you are, huh? It's okay though, because both me and Solomon will always be here to remind you."

Solomon touches all your pact marks constantly. When you take off your shirt it's hard to stop him from touching Leviathan's mark located directly on your back. He's always rubbing his fingers over Beelzebub's symbol on your stomach, always outlining Mammon's mark on your wrist. Sometimes he kisses Belphegor's symbol on your throat. When meeting your eyes, he never fails to stare into the one that holds Lucifer's mark, and even though you cover your thighs almost all the time, it's like Solomon can tell where Asmodeus's mark is. It's his favorite place on your thigh to touch.

You sighed whenever you felt Solomon's lips touch the small of your back. A smile made its way onto your own lips as you giggled.

"I didn't expect Satan to place his mark somewhere so... subtle," he admitted as he popped up to press a kiss to your cheek.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was playing with your wrist again, looking at the symbol of greed that adorns your skin.

"Solomon," you started.

Your lover hummed. You could tell he was beginning to grow drowsy. His eyes were closed and his movements slowed.

"Are you... jealous?"

That woke him up. He made you face him, and the expression he wore was unreadable. It worried you. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, like," you grew embarrassed. "Um... you're always touching my pact marks, or always looking at them, and I don't know. Are you mad at me for them?"

The sorcerer gently grasped your hands. His fingers were weirdly soft considering how much he uses them. He sat there for a moment, just running his thumbs over your palms before speaking.

"I am a little," he admitted. "But I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm proud."

You smiled a bit. It was a lopsided and awkward sort of smile, but to Solomon it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.. He loves seeing his partners happy. He loves seeing you happy.

"You're much stronger than you think," Solomon continued. "Being able to hold seven different pact marks, ones belonging to Avatars, as a human with no sort of prior knowledge on magic?" He beamed. "You're incredible."

That only embarrassed you more. You groaned a bit and tried swatting Solomon away to hide your face, but your lover only pulled you in for a short yet loving kiss.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"You're cuter," you retorted. Solomon just smiled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Speaking of which," he leaned back on your bed and made grabby hands at you, indicating that he wanted you to lay next to him. "I'm tired. Cuddle me."

"So needy," you joked, but instantly complied to Solomon's request. He was never like this in public. It was nice seeing him so open and vulnerable... and cute.

#THANK YOU SM FOR CLARIFYING YOUR HEADCANON REQUEST!!#i'm not poly myself so i never know if i should like-#make the feeling of romantic love be mutual between every person in the relationship?#or just have the two characters love the same person and not each other [weep]#i always feel like im disappointing the poly readers out there writing stuff that way #anywho tho i hope you enjoyed this!! it was a blast to write <3 #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me satan #solomon obey me #satan obey me #solomon x reader #satan x reader #solomon x gn reader #satan x gn reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #ethan.writes

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yourlocalshittywriter · 3 years

Text

The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free.

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash.

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs.

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before.

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain.

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it.

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free.

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

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lucy90712 · 3 years

Text

Karl jacobs- mr beast

wc- 2117

Warnings: none

~ Two weeks ago I randomly got a call from a man who invited me to a shoot for a video, believe me I was sceptical at first which the man seemed to understand but he provided me with all the information I could ever need and answered all of my questions so I believed him and agreed to go and now is the day of the shoot. To my knowledge there will be a few others there as well as a whole crew so if this is a bad situation at least I won't be alone.

My parents think I'm insane for going to this and they have made me promise to keep my phone on me at all times and to text them that I'm safe when I get there, it's nice that their worried but I honestly think I'll be fine. The friend that I've told seem to be thinking the exact opposite in fact they are convinced that I'm going to a mr beast shoot but I'm not too sure. They seem to think that because we live in North Carolina that this is the only possible explanation but I think that they would say that it was for mr beast so that the whole situation seemed less sketchy.

For the day of the shoot which happens to be today we were instructed to wear what we normally would but not to wear too much makeup because it doesn't look good on camera. I took this on board and wore my mom jeans with a black crop top just because it was plain and not too over the top, I don't want to stand out too much. I also barely put on any makeup I just covered the dark circles under my eyes and the few spots I had and I put on mascara so that I didn't look like I had no eyelashes.

The location I had to go to was only about 35 minutes drive from my house which was nice because I wasn't feeling a long drive today. I woke up early enough to have time to make myself breakfast and get coffee on the journey. At the local Starbucks drive through I got my usual order and talked to the girl at the window for a moment because she happens to be one of my friends sisters so we know one another.

"Isn't today the day if that mysterious video shoot your going to" she asked

"Yeah I have to be there in like 50 minutes" I said

"Well have fun meeting mr beast" she said handing me my drink

I rolled my eyes as I pulled away and started my drive. I listened to my Spotify playlist on the way just vibing to each song that played normally it plays at least one song that I'm not that into but today all of them were some of my favourite songs so I think today will turn out to be a good day.

As I arrived to the location I noticed that it was in this really random place with a bunch of big warehouses which I'm not gonna lie was a little sketchy but there seemed to be quite a few people about with cameras and other equipment so I calmed down again. I got out my car and went to the place that I was told to in the email which was relatively easy to find once I knew where the people were going and a guy led me into the middle of this warehouse with a few other people who were obviously taking part too.

Me and this one guy got talking while we waited and he seemed to know a little more than I did about what was happening so we talked about the video and this whole sort of experience. He was really cute too he had kind of long fluffy brown hair and lovely blue eyes that were and interesting shape but they really suited his face, I also noticed that he had his nails painted which made him seem even cooler much to cool for me to be talking to him. He was super nice to me and we had a good conversation until we had to start filming.

A few more people walked in with cameras following them as they talked but when they got closer I recognised the face and I couldn't believe it. My friends were right it was mr beast and his friends or at least a few of them. As they came in the guy I was talking to went over and joined them as they explained the video concept to the rest of us.

"Right for todays video we are going to get all these people to hide in pairs around these warehouses and whoever is found last wins $100,000 to share" mr beast explained

They sorted people into pairs but there was an odd number so I was left on my own.

"Slightly awkward but one person didn't turn up so Karl is going to step in and be y/n's partner for this" Chris explained

This Karl guy came over and he was the guy I talked to earlier, I got a bit embarrassed realising that I had absentmindedly been talking to this guy who's so well known as if it was nothing. The poor guy was probably so confused that I had no idea who he wasn't while at a mr best shoot hopefully I can redeem myself with this challenge.

We each took cameras to film as we found our hiding places which we had 10 minutes to go because the area we had was so big. Most people ran off to the furthest warehouses but me and Karl decided to stay a bit closer hoping that all the others would be found quickly. We went into this relatively small but tall looking warehouse which had a small upstairs bit to it where we looked for a good hiding place, there wasn't a whole load of options apart from this old wardrobe which looked like it could fit the both of us. We decided to keep looking seeing as we could always come back if we found no where else.

After checking another 2 warehouses that were almost empty we realised that our best option would be that wardrobe so we went back and squeezed ourselves in leaving one door open for now at least until we heard movement near by so that it wouldn't be quite as cramped. The both of us did fit in this wardrobe but on the inside it was smaller than it looked so we were pressed right against each other which would be awkward if you hadn't already embarrassed yourself in front of the person so I felt 10 times more awkward in this position.

We had to film ourselves which was quite hard with the darkness and the cramped space but Karl knew what he was doing so he took the camera off me and filmed the both of us explaining where we were showing just outside the wardrobe so that the viewers would know when the others were close to finding us.

Soon enough the timer went off indicating that our hiding time was up and now we really had to be careful not to make too much noise as we could've found any second I had kind of forgot about the fact that this was for a whole lot of money up until now because I was just so annoyed at myself for being such an idiot but now it felt really real and I was starting to feel quite competitive.

We waited what felt like an age before we heard any movement but when I heard the door open I almost jumped out my skin because it was so quiet up until that point. I gave Karl a look and the both of us forced ourselves further into the wardrobe and shut the door as quietly as we could making it completely pitch black.

It was a lot more squished in the wardrobe now as there was no space to move, there was no good way to stand because we had to had some part of our bodies touching or else we wouldn't fit. Karl whispered telling me to turn my phone touch on so that he could film for a second because he said that it wouldn't be seen from outside.

"We just heard the door open and there is movement downstairs so the door in now closed and its super dark without the light" Karl explained to the camera

"It's also super claustrophobic in here with the door shut" I added putting my head over his shoulder so that the camera could see me

He put the camera down and I turned off my touch and we just kind of listened and we heard the door close again or so we thought but it wasn't worth the risk so we left it a little longer before we felt safe to be a little louder but we didn't want to risk opening the door again so we stayed how we were.

It was actually a good time talking a little bit like we were before the filming started, Karl is a very sweet guy he really just wants to get to know me as a real person and not just someone helping him do his job. He seemed to really care about what I did with my life and who I am seeing as I know a bit about him and he knew that he was interested in learning about me.

Our nice conversation was soon interrupted when the door opened again and we heard voices getting closer to us. The sound of the metal stairs that lead to where we are could be heard which meant that they were close. There was a panicked feeling between the two of us and Karl pulled me closer to him just incase they opened one door they might not be able to see us.

"They could be in the wardrobe there" I heard a muffled voice say

Mine and Karl's breathing slowed down so that they couldn't hear any noise at all and if they did well they have great hearing. It was at this point that I realised Karl had his arm around my waist holding my back to his chest which was making me blush but it was dark so no one could see. The door opened on the other side and a camera was pointed in.

"There no one in this side do you really think they would both fit on the other side?" Someone asked

"I don't think so honestly but we really should check" another said

I knew it was over from that point and I was right the second door opened and cameras went straight into my face, Karl also let go of my waist at this point not wanting that to be on camera. Karl got out the wardrobe and offered his hand to help me out.

"Congratulations you guys have won" mr beast said

"It took us forever to find you so well done" Chris said

"Oh my this is amazing thank you" I said feeling quite overwhelmed

Obviously the prize for winning was $50,000 each which was absolutely amazing and just so life changing like there is so many things I could do with that amount of money but I have no idea what that will be yet.

"You have won $50,000 congra" mr beast started

"Wait I want y/n to have my share I don't need it" Karl interrupted

"Karl there is no need for you to do that I'm more than ok with $50,000" I said

"You are taking the money please it would make me happy" he said

I accepted the fact that Karl was never going to give in so now I'm $100,000 richer which is insane no one is going to believe me until this video comes out. My parents are going to think I've committed a crime of some form which isn't good but they will have to believe me eventually so it's fine.

The shoot wrapped up and I was heading to my car to go back home when Karl came running over and gave me his phone number saying he wanted to hang out sometime. What has my life become? I started the day thinking that I could be in danger and have ended it with $100,000 and the phone number of one of the people that works for a huge YouTube channel, it's almost like a dream.

#karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs #mr beast #dsmp #mcyt #karl

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apparentlyaswarmofbees · 3 years

Note

can you do a hc of the bros and would they help mc feel better. like mc is sad and what would the brothers say and do to make them feel better. idk if this has been done so yeah :)

Lol, let's see if I remember what being sick is like, haven't caught a single cold since the start of the year, and thank fuck for that too-

Also, once again, one more time, third time actually, it's hard to focus things on the MC as I try to make it possible for many to put themselves in the story (I know I have written one on MC liking insects but that was very self indulgent lol)

I will change things up a bit on the request, but if it was with my own MC, she would be fairly practicle, checking up on the brothers, giving them water and asking if they wanted food, even keeping company if not contagious. It will look like she is just being considerate but it actually pains her to see them sick, it's just that she is used to expressing herself in acts of service.

When Your Seven Demons Get Sick

Warning: a LOT of uncensored swearing

Lucifer

We all know this can go two ways: either this piece of shit refuses to acknowledge that he is coughing like a damn nuclear explosion or he responsably takes his work home and refuses to fully rest because he needs to keep and eye on not only his brothers but also on the man child he works under that he somehow has come to fondly call a best friend.

So, yeah, tomato tomato.

His stress is reaching levels higher than celestial realm and he definetelly has been staring at a piece of document for way too long and not making any progress.

You will have to literally german suplex this man into his bed if you want him to get more than 5 seconds of shut eye.

It will take a while for his brain to process that 'oh yeah he can trust you to keep at least 10% of the house intact while he recovers'.

He may be a bit insufferable as he will attempt to work again, but it is a very adorable sight to have him whining, being way too happy at small gestures, and of course, his squishy cheeks as he sleeps soundly.

Mammon

As long as he is being dramatic about it, you know he will live.

Though he probably won't realize he even is ferverish until someone points it out that his responses are much slower than normal.

Like, it took him one second too long to screech in terror and start running for his life when he spotted Levi's all nighter dying body crawling out of his bedroom!

And oh yes was he delighted to be deprived of his obligation to go to RAD until he got back to his full health.

Until he was not allowed to not do anything but rest for the entire day that is.

Yes he will be restess and willing to do anything just to be allowed to stand on the front porch for five seconds and yes you will end up threatening to tie him to the bed in a non kinky way and yes you will only be half joking.

Just make sure to keep close attention to his levels of drama so that you can spoil him properly when he truly feels bad.

Leviathan

With him it can also go two ways: either he also doesn't fully realize until someone points it out or he will immediatelly let you a "Oh hell no" the moment he gives out a single cough that feels just a little bit out of the ordinary.

How he will take care of himself, if at all, will depend of the situation.

If there is absolutely nothing to lose from being sick other than the hability to breathe through his nose he would definetelly spent the entire recovering process binge watching slice of life animes while laying confortably on his tub.

If he had plans related to the things he is passionate about though?

I wish you luck because he is definetelly not backing down and will consequently make himself even more sick afterwards.

Although the extremelly satisfied expression we wears even when he can barely laugh without having a coughing fit kind of makes it all worthy in the end.

Satan

The most chill sick person you will ever encounter and will always make sure to be responsable and nurture himself back to full health.

The catch though?

This big brained idiot definetelly doesn't know how to judge between what is small cold and straight up dying when it's about his own body.

So yes he is the kind of person who will always take some painkillers, drink water, lay on bed and read a book until he falls asleep no matter what the fuck he actually has.

So much for knowledge is power smh.

First off, he deserves to be vibe checked with the thickest medicine book you can find in the cluttered mess he calls a bedroom.

Second off, he is so much more prone to being pissy when he's sick. It's almost funny how fast he goes from :) to >:( in half a second the moment someone who isn't you steps inside his bedroom.

And last but not least, cat videos. No further explanation needed.

Asmodeus

Oh someone have pity on this poor baby. He took so much care to not get himself sick and has managed to avoid even the worst of pandemies for centuries! So why now?!

He is basically so desperate to recover to the point he actually makes it take longer due to him stressing things out.

And he feels so sticky, he will basically want to take 5 showers per day.

Also his voice is basically gone?? And that just makes him want to s c r e a m ????

Locks himself inside his bedroom and throws a pity party.

Many of his posts on the media are something like "Oh no! I think I got sick? I am feeling a bit under the weather right now so, will you nurse me back to health~? Pretty please~ ❤" while in real life he is pretty much sneezing and coughing at the same time every 5 minutes.

If you bring him consolation sweets he might cry. Both because you're making him happy and because he is definetelly going to have to lose those extra calories later.

As much as he wants to cuddle he doesn't let you too close in case it's contagious and damn if he isn't rocking the pale skin, runny nose and swollen eyes.

He doesn't agree.

Beelzebub

Big boy is definetelly one of the easiest demons to take care of when sick seeing he will to his most to not feel like a chore to you.

Yes he will lie when he feels unwell so that you don't worry.

And that's when you should vibe check him with a spoon.

Like yes you may be getting out of your way to take care of him but no it's no problem at all because yes you love him a lot and would do anything to see him get better and you know he would to the same if not more for you if switched places.

Happiness is the re ocurring 'aah's as you spoon feed your bed ridden man and watching as he keeps on smiling throughout each bite and eats everything like a good boy.

But you can't tell me he doesn't manage to get drunk on cough syrup though.

He is definetelly not as hungry as usual but damn this cough syrup tastes great.

The results are Beel going on a cursed chain of crypid comments in which he makes sure to whisper them in the strangeat ways you could imagine at the most random times always giving a happy smile once he is done.

He apparently doesn't recall any of it the next day-

Belphegor

How he reacts to being sick completely depends on who is close enough to hear him whine.

Most of the time, whenever he feels anything out of ordinary, he will immediately text Beel in case this is just one more of their cases of twin-powers.

If he is actually sick though?

He will not stop whining, but then he gives a cute smile when he sees you and even makes a motion closely resembling grabby hands with his fingers as he raises one arm in your direction while saying some shit like "I missed you" when you literally were only gone for exactly 2 minutes to go grab him a cup of water and I think you can understand the power this little of shit has.

Be prepared to roll your eyes so much your eyes will probably start hurting.

The good side though? He is the only brother who listens exactly to what you tell him to do without feeling bad about being a burden. Though it's all because he doesn't wants you to worry about him any further than necessary.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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kaeyas-beloved · 3 years

Text

Be You {Leviathan x Reader}

Leviathan x Reader (They/Them) || Obey Me!

Warning(s): None (Well, actually I make Levi bully Mammon for less than a paragraph)

Note: This was a request I received from someone on Wattpad!

-------------------

Finally, Leviathan’s done it. It’s been a long three days, hours upon hours having been poured into this playthrough.

“Woop woop! Aren’t I the best!” he praised himself, smiling wide. He’s skipped meals, pushed assignments to a later date and avoided any outside interactions to finish this game. His sight may be blurry and his limbs numb but if those were the sacrifices he had to make to go full completionist then it was all worth it. Now, time to celebrate a well deserved win.

“I think this calls for some of Ruri-chan’s celebratory season 3 limited edition candy and-!”

A chorus of knocks on his door immediately snuffed out his joy. Levi scowled, turning to glare at his door from his chair, it’s gotta be Mammon. The third born is absolutely positive that it’s his scummy older brother - it always is - back yet again to mooch more money off him for a trip to the casino. The usual slander he and his brothers would throw at the second born was on the tip of his tongue, ready to fire at will.

“Hey Levi? You there? It’s me....”

A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to the second born piping up and Levi, halfway through spouting the first syllable, shuts up all together. That’s his normie. A weight presses on his heart: he was just about to yell and insult his Henry…

Clearing his throat in hopes of gaining some kind of composure (all previous anger having diminished) the usual “What’s the password?” came out in a stutter. The demon was only acutely aware of his heart beat. How it skipped periodically. How it raced like he himself just ran a marathon. Levi waits a moment for the human to finish reciting the TSL excerpt. His hands begin to shake, his palms exuding profuse amounts of sweat. Gah! Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he’s aware that he’s just some gross shut-in otaku but he shouldn’t be this anxious! It’s not like this is the first time the exchange student has hung out in his room... alone... with him…

“Yo Levi?”

“Yes MC?”

“You think you could open the door now? Please?” Snapped back to reality, Levi hastily opened the door, finding himself regretting it soon after.

“I, uh, MC? What do you…?” his voice trailed off, orange gradient eyes locked on their garments. Immediately he sputtered, taking a step back. A bright scarlet coated his pale cheeks. Levi tried to hide it with his hand, though it was proven useless. The sea demon's at a toss up; should he screech? Slam the door shut? Combust all together!? At the rate he’s going, number three is looking pretty probable.

On the other end of this exchange, the human stood almost timidly out in the hall, fingers fiddling with one another while their eyes darted anywhere but at the man in front of them. The words of the fifth born rang in their ears:

“You absolutely have to wear this dear! My brother would surely fall head over heels for you, even more so than he already is!”

Oh whyyyyy did they trust him? Cause he had knowledge in fashion and love? Yeah, that was it. Still, if this turns south Asmo is going to get a lecture worse than any Lucifer could ever give… Damn, they really should’ve never let the lust demon shoo them into his private bathroom and make them change into this girly outfit.

And it hit them all at once: Levi doesn’t like it, what they’re wearing. What if he never talks to them after this? Maybe if they leave now then there will still be a chance they can forget about this.

Time went on slowly, like people who walk through mud are, and MC just about tuck tail and ran, what they had planned and gained courage for be damned.

Levi had other plans though.

Only now registering that the two were standing out in the open for all to see, in a blind and desperate attempt to save himself and the human from embarrassment, the third born latched onto their wrist, yanking them into the safety of his room. Unfortunately, demon strength is a funny thing and Levi had handled them with more force than he meant to, the human crashing into his chest - hard.

Perhaps it was instinct -- a need to protect the fragile being within his grasp -- but the demon's arm found purchase around their form, pulling them almost impossibly closer as they tipped. The pair, balance long gone, toppled over, landing with a thud.

Somehow, just like in all the romance anime he’s watched, Levi found himself hovering over them, arms propped on either side of their head. Their noses brushed, both staring frozen into each other's eyes. It wasn’t everyday that either of them were this close to one another, the exception being when the duo falls asleep playing video games. God, with this kind of proximity he was sure that the normie could hear how fast his meek heart was pounding. If this went on any longer he might actually die.

“Levi?” They whispered, their voice so quiet that he almost missed the call of his name. He however did catch their whisper and tensed up before coming back to the here and now, catching sight of the ‘what’ that led to their current position. Standing, Levi’s face burned hotter than ever before.

‘It was all because of them,’ he thought, turning away turning away with tense shoulders as he still tries to mask the red that licked all the way up to his ears. ‘It’s always their fault when I start to feel like I do now!’

“S-stupid n-normie! Why are you even wearing that?” he asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder. Levi did have to admit… they looked kinda cute in those clothes… and it looked like something Ruri-chan would wear too…

Gah! No no no focus Levi!

The ‘normie’ didn’t answer right away, instead raising to their feet and opting to grab a bag from beside the door. That wasn’t there before.

“Asmo…” they sighed, turning back to face the demon, nervousness swirling within them. Now or never, “Asmo said you’d like it if I wore something like this” So this is Asmo’s doing? Damn him… “Anyway, here, take it.”

“Wha-?” A shimmering gift bag the same colour of the water Henry his goldfish swam in was thrust into his hands, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat.

A present? For him? Oh why must a no good otaku like him have to go through such an intimate endeavor???? He just can’t take it!

Then again, this was like that one scene from season 2 ep. 22 of this anime he binged: I Forget Important Dates all the time which causes me to get into really awkward situations. This time I forgot about my Birthday and my Crush handed me a bag before confessing their love for me!

So-! Spurred on by fictional characters and MC’s urging “go on, open it”, Levi tore the tape, presented with his spontaneous gift: a popular multiplayer game from the human world; one near impossible to get in Devildom.

“WHAOOO!” MC couldn’t help but think how much he’s acting like a kid on Christmas, the notion cute in their opinion. The human stood still for a couple minutes, allowing their friend to rant and gush over the game (and how cool they were for even acquiring it).

“But…” the purple haired demon calmed down, “why did you suddenly give me this?” What? Did he not know what today was?

“It’s… it is your birthday isn’t it!?” Don’t tell them Asmo lied to them about Levi’s birthday!

Levi pulled out his phone, his eyes widening to the size of saucers, “No, it is my birthday,” he assured. With all the gaming he was doing he must've failed to noticed, which is strange considering the last time his special day drew near he practically counted down the days.

“MC.” He got their attention, looking them right in the eye, his words and actions portraying a sureness and sincerity, “Thank you and…” As quick as lightning strikes the ground, the human had themselves pulled flush against Levi once more, his head resting on their shoulder and nose buried in the crook of their neck. His hair, so soft and fluffy, left a ticklish sensation on their skin.

“And about what you said before. With Asmo. I do like what you’re wearing but…” he tightens his hold, “I like you just the way you are. I know you don’t usually dress like this and I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable, like how you make me. If that means dressing tomboy-ish then so be it. I want you to be you: the human only you can be: my Henry.”

“I’m glad you feel that way…” They smiled, arms wrapping around his torso. They hope their gratitude is able to shine through in the hug, “Now, ya wanna play your new game?”

“Yes!” He smiled, pulling back and raising his hand. They return the grin, suppressing a chuckle seeing as the demon reminded them of the YES demoji. “Oh, but um! Would you like to change first? It’s not that I don’t like seeing you dressed like that or anything but like I said I want you to be comfortable but also I don’t think my heart can take it anymore… wait that’s not what I meant!” That made them chuckle though.

“Do I have to?” They teased, enjoying the reaction they got out of the third born. Levi gulped, ducking his head while whispering a small no. “Then maybe I’ll stay like this a little longer. It is your birthday after all.” Tugging the envy demon towards their usual gaming spot they let Levi set up the game before the two plopped down in their spots.

“Oh and Levi?” He hummed, tilting his head, the light of the screen illuminating the side of his face. They hugged him once more, “Happy Birthday”

-------------------

[Masterlist]

Thank you for reading!

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Baby, I’ve Already got Your Heart

Summary: An accidental meeting between Armin and Y/N leads to an unhealthy obsession. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings: stalking, language, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), switch!Reader, switch!Armin, rope is involved. Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by this song. It is surprisingly wholesome, considering the tags xD

Armin Arlert. The purest man in the world. You accidentally met him one cold, rainy day when he entered your coffee shop for shelter and warmth. He naively talked to you, grateful for how nice you were with him, grateful for the cappuccino on the house, grateful for the towel you offered him to dry himself off. Little did Armin know, a fixation sprouted in your mind and heart, developing into the unhealthiest obsession. He was just so cute — and you just had to have him. It helped to know that you were both going to the same university, and after that, you knew everything about him: his Facebook, Instagram, email address, hell, you even knew his real address. To be fair, it was a piece of cake, the boy was absolutely clueless and whenever he 'accidentally' met you, he thought it was by pure chance. The next and most obvious step was to befriend people in his social circle, one Jean Kirstein, one Sasha Braus and one Connie Springer. Naturally, you did your homework, and you knew his best friends were Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, but they weren't easy targets. Besides, it would jeopardise your entire plan, as you found Armin was considered a genius. An oblivious genius. He didn't know it yet, but you loved him and he loved you too, right?

A text from Sasha, months after you first met the angelic man, set your plan in motion. A casual gaming night at Armin's place, and you were invited. How perfect. Poor glutton Sasha had no fucking clue how much you were using her, how you told her you want to meet a cute guy, someone nice and caring, someone smart and attentive. The girl put two and two together and decided she just had to introduce you to one of her friends, especially that he was also interested in meeting a girl like you. Unbelievable — you acted surprised, met up with Sasha and left for Armin's little gaming night. You wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Starting from tonight, he'd be yours. Forever.

"Armiiiiiiiiin, I brought a plus one!" Sasha barged into his house. "This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, Armin! Oh shit, pretzels!" The brown-haired woman left the two of you in the hallway and the blond flashed you a smile.

"I feel like I've seen you before." He mused as he closed the door behind you.

"If you ever drink coffee at Rose's you might've seen me there." You smiled and removed your leather jacket, revealing a Pearl Jam t-shirt.

"No way you listen to them!" Armin blurted.

"Are you kidding me? They're my favourite!" You lied through your teeth with a sickly-sweet smile.

"Mine too! Oh, I know, you're the girl who gave me a free cappuccino months ago!"

"I remember! You were drenched in rainwater." You laughed as the two of you entered the living room. "I had to mop up the puddles you left behind."

"I'm so sorry about that..." He blushed. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't wait to get your hands on him, but for the time being, you needed to behave.

"No worries, I just hope you didn't catch a cold." You assured Armin and sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. There he goes, blushing again. It couldn't be... was he a virgin? Fuck. This was better than you could've imagined.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, Mikasa, Eren, this is Y/N. She's friends with Sasha."

"Nice to meet you!" Eren shook your hand. "Oh, God, you listen to Pearl Jam, too? You nerds are going to get along just fine." He joked.

The night went great, and you actually had fun with Armin and his friends, despite not intending to mingle with them too much. People started leaving around 2 am, but Eren and Mikasa stayed longer. Too fucking long — and things were boring now anyway. You and Armin kept talking about video games and books, Mikasa fell asleep on Eren who was playing fucking Farmville on his phone. They had to leave as soon as possible.

"Hey, Y/N, we can take you home." Eren suggested and you froze. Shit.

"Didn't you say you're almost out of gas?" Armin questioned his friend.

"Ah, fuck, you're right. I still don't know how that happened — I fuelled the tank yesterday!" The brunette scoffed. "Guess you're on your own, Y/N."

"It's alright, I'll take an uber." You politely smiled.

"Alright, we'll wait for you."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Truth be told, you appreciated how nice and caring Armin's friends were, but you had a different goal to accomplish.

"You really don't have to, plus I have to use the bathroom." You excused yourself. "Um, where is the bathroom exactly?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right." Armin told you while gathering plates and cups from the table. You nodded and climbed up the stairs. Your hand hovered over the bathroom doorknob for a good minute, eyes drifting to the door next to it. Armin's bedroom, by the looks of it. Surely, you could take a look, right? Fuck it. You opened the second door and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. LED and fairy lights encircled a corner of his room and, curiously, you walked closer to see what that was, because it didn't look like a desk. Your Y/E/C widened when you saw tens of framed photographs of yourself on the square table, objects you thought you lost and — Jesus, was that your bra? A rush of anxiety hit you, but before you could do anything, a blow to your head blurred your vision.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

Dark lashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. The sudden realisation that you were naked and restrained to a bed made you jolt. What just happened?

"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never wake up." Armin greeted you, but his voice was different, deeper and darker.

"Ar-ugh, Armin?" You groaned at the stinging sensation at the back of your head.

"You know, I was relieved you didn't leave with Sasha, otherwise you would've slipped between my fingers again."

Again?

"Ugh, and Eren and his stupid idea. 'We'll take you home.'" He mocked his best friend with a high pitch. "I've been dreaming for this moment since I walked into that shitty coffee shop."

You were at a loss for words. This was not the Armin you fantasised about, not the Armin you wanted. He was much more and much worse. And. So. Much. Better.

Alright then, you'd put up a show for him.

"P-please, Armin, please untie m-me! I'll be good, I p-promise!" You stuttered and whimpered, trying your best to sound genuine.

"Why, so you can run away?" The blond scoffed. So, he didn't know you stalked him. What a twist.

"I won't r-run, I swear!"

"Bullshit." Armin bent over your body, hands around your neck. You gasped and pretended to be startled by his touch, but in reality, your core was already burning with lust. You knew you couldn't keep up with this charade. "No, Y/N, I won't untie you. But we'll have so much fun." He sneered.

"You promise?"

"Yes. Wait—"

Your laughter filled the bedroom, genuine laughter that baffled Armin. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick?

"Oh, Armin, even when you reveal your true colours, you're still oblivious to the reality of what's in front of you."

"Then enlighten me, what am I so oblivious to?" He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"The fact that this was my fucking plan, too." You stretched as much as your restraints allowed you to and licked your lips. "I guess we both stalked each other without even knowing. How ridiculous."

"I think I would've known if you stalked me, Y/N."

"Really? Let me prove it, then. Your favourite food's Carbonara pasta, your favourite drink is peach and lychee iced tea, favourite movie is Interstellar, you lived on Sheena street until you were 12–"

"That's common knowledge, Sasha could've told you any of that." Armin blurted, growing impatient.

"You watch BDSM and asphyxiation porn between 10 pm and 11 pm every Tuesday, you're a virgin, you own a fleshlight–"

"Fuck, alright!" He threw his hands in the air, defeated. "So, what next?"

"You untie me and you tear me apart, Armin, that's what's next."

The blond hesitated before removing the cuffs on your ankles, still unsure about the ropes around your wrists. Clearly, you weren't making things up, but what were the chances of both of you stalking each other? For a brief moment, Armin felt guilty for hitting you and practically holding you captive, and you could see that on his face, but obsession and desire soon took over, and he reverted back to his darker self. His soft hands moved from your ankles to your knees, up your thighs and stomach, stopping above your chest, deciding it's best if you're not fully free. Armin licked his lips and climbed on top of you, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. You thought was surprisingly strong for such a thin man, but when the unbuttoned shirt revealed his chiselled abdomen, it made sense why he was strong.

"The wrists, Armin." You insisted but the blond clicked his tongue.

"I like you better when you're helpless." He pressed his lips onto yours in a hot kiss. A great kiss, you thought, your tongues wrestling for supremacy.

"Please, I want to touch you! I need to..." You trailed off, intoxicated by his smell, notes of saffron and cardamom. His hands roamed your shoulders, tickling your axilla and groping your breasts. "Please let me touch you, Armin!" You begged again, but he didn't say a word, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive nipples, goosebumps all over your skin. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth and you watched him painstakingly slowly lick one of your nipples. It literally pained you to be unable to touch him, pull him closer to you. Alas, you had no choice, and despite yearning to be in control, it aroused you to have him control you.

"You smell so sweet." He abruptly stopped. "I bet you taste sweet, too."

"Armin..." His words made you brace yourself. While you weren't a virgin, you've never had anyone eat you out. The blond was already in between your legs, one hand resting under your thigh, the other gently touching your slick folds. Armin was so careful, like you were made of glass, and the ticklish sensation didn't help you at all. You wanted him to ram his cock inside of you and rearrange your guts, but he wanted to take his sweet time. The teasing only made you dizzy with pleasure, and you bucked your hips, trying to get him to move faster.

"You really need to learn to be patient, Y/N." Armin purred, pressing gentle kisses on your thighs. He lazily dragged his tongue across your slit, electricity shooting through your body. God, how you wanted to rip those ropes apart. Two fingers entered you and the blond gingerly licked your clit.

"Fuck– so... so good ah–" You couldn't form a sentence even if your life counted on it. Gradually, you could feel your orgasm building up and Armin sensed it, picking up the pace. His fingers thrusted harder and you arched your back, the intensity too much for you. "Armin, please! I wanna come with your cock in me!" The begging didn't stop him, he was determined to make you finish then and there. And he did — within seconds you melted under his touch, legs trembling with pleasure. Armin pulled back, his mouth messy with saliva mixed with your juices.

"You come when I want you to come." His voice was low, almost like a growl. He unbuttoned his jeans, and you watched him like a hawk, waiting to see just how big his was, and you were not disappointed.

"Please please please let me suck it, please!" You begged him, eager to taste him. He smirked and kissed you, all the while rubbing his cock.

"You want this?" Armin quirked a brow at you. The little shit, jacking off in front of you and you couldn't even do anything about it.

"Armin..."

"Say it. Say you want it."

"Armin!"

"Say it, Y/N." He groaned, precum leaking from his member. Fuck.

"I... I want it..." You eventually gave up.

"Good girl." The blond climbed back on top of you. He raised your hips and you placed your legs on his shoulder, his first thrust slow and deep. Armin couldn't help the moan escaping his lips — this was so much better than that shitty fleshlight and countless porn videos. You couldn't deny the fact that it hurt, despite your soaking cunt, but you quickly adjusted to his size. As Armin pounded you, the bed underneath the two of you started moving and screeching, and the ropes tied to the metal bedframe loosened and you felt your arms fall onto the pillows. In his frenzy, the blond didn't notice, so you took this opportunity to lower your legs and wrap them around his waist, one hand grabbing his soft locks, the other wrapping around his neck. You used his weight against him and turned him over. You were in control.

Armin was taken aback by this, but the feeling of your fingers squeezing his throat only turned him on more. You bounced up and down, throwing your head back and groaning. He gripped your hips tightly, thrusting his own hips against yours.

"F-fuck me harder, Y/N!" He begged and you sped up. You felt like a queen — no, a goddess — when he asked you to fuck him, the feeling of him inside of you so addictive. He was your drug, and your rehab, your poison, and your antidote. And you were his and his only. His cock was twitching in your cunt and knew he was close but you didn't want to risk it. Swiftly, you got off of him and wrapped your lips around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. It didn't take long for him to finish, hot liquid shooting down your throat with one final grunt. You swallowed it all and threw yourself next to him. It was breaking dawn already, but you weren't tired. Physically, yes, both of you were exhausted, but mentally it felt like you discovered a hidden gem.

"What the fuck did we just do?" Armin calmly caressed your hair as you nuzzled his neck.

"Are we talking about the obsessively stalking each other part or the part where you hit me in the head? Or the fucking?"

"The everything." He explained. "This is wrong."

"Did it feel wrong?" You asked him, your fingers idly tracing circles over his chest.

"Well, no..."

"Then it's not wrong." You shrugged. "Am... am I yours?"

"Yes." The blond instantly replied without a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Am I?"

"You've been mine the moment you set foot in that shitty coffee shop." You laughed.

"And what are we going to tell the others?"

"That we ended up talking all night and I stayed over?"

"Sounds like a plan." Armin kissed your forehead.

"By the way, I really don't like Pearl Jam." You admitted.

He laughed and it filled your heart with warmth. You have no idea why you and Armin were like that, or how things would be from now on, but you had a good feeling about it. Things were okay. You two were okay.

#armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #snk smut #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #armin arlert smut #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan #armin arlert

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mintbaby1012 · 3 years

Text

Jeongin ♥ Who Do You Love

In which you go over to the boys dorm to hangout and Jeongin gets jealous

dom!Jeongin x fem!reader

WARNING: Suggestive/smut, Fluff, jealousy, very slight angst if u squint.

Word Count: 2998

——————————————————————————

My boyfriend Jeongin had brought me over to his dorm to hang out with him and the boys. Currently I was sitting on the couch playing on the switch with Changbin, Hyunjin, and Chan. Jeongin was next to me watching videos, honestly he looked kinda grumpy and I don't know why.

"Y/n, come help me cook!" Yelled Lee Know from the kitchen so I got up and ruffled Jeongin's hair causing him to look at me questioningly and I said, "Love you Jeongin!"

I gave him heart fingers before going to the kitchen after seeing him blush and look back at his phone saying nothing in response; honestly kinda disappointed he could've at least returned the heart finger but no. He's been a grump since Chan took me to his room to show me his new figure.

Once I got to the kitchen Lee Know gave me green onions to cut and a knife. "Hey Lee where is the chopping board?" I looked over to him and he was pointing at the cabinet next to me. I tried to grab it but it was pretty high up.

I started to lose my balance then I felt a body against mine holding me up and I got the board down without falling. I turned around and came face to face with Lee know and we just stared at each other for a moment before we heard the door open and Jeongin came in. Lee instantly moved away and went back to the the pot as my love came in, just looked at me weirdly and went to the fridge grabbing strawberry milk, then left.

"Hey Lee I'll be back I'ma go talk to Jeongin," I said and left the kitchen looking for Jeongin. He wasn't in the living room so I went to his room and found him on his bed. So, I layed down and hugged him while asking, "Why are you being such a grump today?" He looked at me and said, "I'm not I'm just tired and want to watch videos he said and smiled at me kissing my cheek. Which made me happy but honestly I can't tell if his smiles are real at this point anymore he always smiles now.

"Can I have some of your strawberry milk baby?" I asked and he handed it to me so I took a few sips it was soooooo good like fhdfd it's an orgasm in my mouth. I cuddled a little more with him before going back and helping Lee Know cook again.

After we finished cooking the members all helped setting the table. We all sat down and started eating and laughing talking about random things then Lee Know said, "Y/n, open up try this!" He fed me the beef before I could respond, and I looked over to Jeongin who immediately stopped laughing and started eating more.

Eventually it was 10 PM and Chris said I needed to go back to my house so my parents don't get mad and blame him. So me and Jeongin were on our way back to my house.

"Jeongin really tell me what's wrong I'm tired of you being a grump today!" I stated sternly and he stopped and looked at me. "You, You are what's wrong with me. Every single time I bring you over one of the members is with you not me, and Lee Know sometimes I want to punch him he's always flirting with you , I should be the one flirting with you not him....."

He started walking again leaving me behind while I processed what he just said. Eventually we reached my house and I invited him in because my parents would've gotten onto me if I didn't so we went up to my room to hang out for a bit more but he just got on his phone again. So what do I do, well I take his phone from him and toss it to my floor and exclaimed, "I'm not with them right now but look, look at what you're doing nothing you're not flirting your not even looking at me!"

Jeongin looked at me and said, "Well what do you want me to do i don't even know who you love anymore, so who do you love. Is it him or me because if you can't say I'm the one for sure then I'm walking out the door." Tears were puddling up in my eyes as I said, "You, I love you, I spent most of my high school life begging you to be with me and now you finally are and you have been with me for a year and your asking this. I'm shocked Jeongin."

He looked back at me dead in the eyes and said, "How do I know that, for all I know you could be doing things with them. They're older than you even though I'm older than you too, but they're all pretty experienced they can easily take control over you and your heart so I don't know if you love me anymore... I need proof."

So right after that I kissed him and it wasn't no normal kiss, I kissed him passionately trying to express all my feelings to him. At first jeongin was just wide eyes and shocked then he started moving with me our lips dancing together. I pulled away and asked, "Do you believe me now? Do you now believe that you are the one I love!"

He looked at me pushing back his hair and said, "I definitely believe you do now, sweetness."

I blushed and quietly said, "It's like you're trying to seduce me right now. Pushing you're hair and leaning your head back like that you evil human being."

He looked at me smirking and stated, "So what if I am, you are my babygirl not Chris' or Lee Know's. I'm allowed to seduce you."

I looked up at him confused on why he said that then my eyes widened as I exclaimed, "Did I say that out loud?!?!?!"

Jeongin kept smirking and said, "Yes, you did." Then kissed me again, picking me up and setting me on his lap.

We kept kissing for like 2 minutes till he bit my lip making me whimper and he took that chance to stick his tongue into my mouth sending an shock through my body.

Since when did he know to kiss like this, he's normally innocent only kissing me on the cheek or maybe on the lips but the lips is rare even in private, but right now, I'm not getting any vibes of innocence.

Slowly he worked his way to my jawline kissing it. Then to my neck kissing licking and leaving love bites making me moan quietly.

He got back to my lips and wrapped his arms around my back pulling me as close as he could to him. We kept kissing and my hands were running through his hair making a mess of it, as he layed back onto the bed so that I was on-top of him while he was laying down.

I loosened his grip on my back and worked my way to his earlobe, licking and biting it lightly causing him to whimper from this new feeling to him. I kept on kissing and biting him but now I was at his neck.

I then made my way to Jeongin's collar bone and looked up at him to see him in a dazed state looking at me with pure love. So in that moment I went right back to his collar bone kissing it and biting it, but it wasn't a normal bite I was biting and sucking on his skin to leave a mark; making him moan out, "Y-You're supposed to be innocent y/n, h-how do you know to do this... ngh"

I looked back at him and smirked, "I could say the same thing about you innie your older than me only by a few months."

He just smirked and slid his hand under my shirt exploring my skin. His free hand worked it's way to my ass squeezing it then spanked me as he said, "You've been a bad girl, letting the others fond all over you." He then spanked me again causing me to whimper, but then we both froze and I jumped up off him and he pulled on a hoodie and tried to straighten out his hair, I was at my TV acting like I was gonna grab the switch.

All of that work because we heard my mom coming up the stairs. She opened the door and I lifted the switch out of the holder and looked at her innocently as she said, "It's getting pretty late y/n either Jeongin needs to leave or call Christopher and he can stay in the guest room if he gets permission."

I nodded my head and Jeongin called Chris to ask then after he hung up he spoke to my mom, "He said since it's late he doesn't want me out alone so to stay here and he'll pick me up around 11 tomorrow morning if needed."

She nodded her head but before she left I pleaded, "Mama can Jeongin just stay in here we're mature, I mean we're literally adults in America and you were born and raised there Mama and all I want to do is cuddle with him."

She stood at my door for a few moments before sighing, "Fine but don't do anything that'll be regretted in the long run, understood." She said sternly and me and Jeongin both nodded our heads quickly in response and when she left I put the switch back and jumped back into the bed hugging Jeongin.

We layed there till I fell asleep. Around 2am I woke back up and Jeongin was gone, but I saw the light to the bathroom that was connected to my room was on so I got up and was about to knock on the door but stopped right when I was about to knock. He was moaning I could hear him moaning my name it was quiet but still audible enough for anyone in a five feet radius of the bathroom.

I just stood there wide eyes and blushing off in my own fantasy world not realizing the moaning stopped. Then the door opened and I was snapped out of my world; Jeongin and I stared at each other pretty much talking through our eyes and I turned around quickly and tried running to the bed to hide under covers in embarrassment but he grabbed my arm pulled me into his chest.

He leaned next to my ear and whispered, "Did you hear everything I was doing, sweetness?" I just nodded my head, and he pushed me onto the bed. Before I knew it he had my shirt off and I was exposed because I don't sleep with a bra. He was scanning my entire body, while removing his shirt and pants.

Is this really about to happen am I really gonna lose my virginity right now. As Jeongin's dick sprung free, lustful fear clouded my eyes. Jeongin looked at me softly and said, "Baby I can wait for your v card much much longer, I know you're afraid to lose that but I can't just use my own hands anymore." I looked him in the eyes relived and he pulled me up to stand then pushed me down so I was kneeling on the floor as he was sitting on the bed.

I looked up at him confused on what to do. This is the first time I have seen a dick in real life and it's my boyfriend's as well. He grabbed my hand and place it on his dick. Manually wrapping my hand around it and using it as a toy guiding it up and down his shaft, till I got used to it.

He was now propping himself up on the bed, head back, and moaning out my name and cuss words following it.

I was staring at him trying to figure out what got the best reaction out of him and my conclusion was when I glided my thumb across his tip then blew on it.

Suddenly an idea struck me and immediately I put it into action. My mouth lowered onto his cock wrapping around it and he gasped in surprise, instantly sitting up straight and grabbing a handful of my hair and pushing me down onto his dick all the way causing me to gag.

He started thrusting into my mouth moaning sinnful words of pleasure. Eventually I stopped gagging and lowered my self onto him even more deepthroating him everytime he thrusted into me. "F-fucking hell I'm gonna cum sweetness!" Jeongin moaned out while pulling my head back so that he doesn't cum into my mouth, but I had other plans.

I instantly lowered my mouth back down to his throbbing shaft as he came and I took it all into my mouth. I looked back up at him and he was wide eyed and breathing heavily letting out his last bit of moans looking down at me. I made sure he saw the movement of my throat as I swallowed his cum.

He looked even more shocked and pulled me back up and kissed me while saying, "I love you, I love you so fucking much. I just didn't want to cum in your mouth I didn't want to make your mouth completely dirty..."

I just looked at him and said, "It didn't make my mouth dirty but it did give my taste buds a new favorite snack hehet!"

"Huh, what about me does your oppa get to have a new favorite snack too?" Jeongin asked and I shook my head yes.

Soon enough I was laying on the bed my pussy exposed and his mouth eating me out. I was a moaning mess. Everytime he would flick his tongue against my clit my whole body would jolt in pleasure. Then I felt something enter my pussy and I moaned out his name making him smirk in pride.

He was fingering me and eating me out at the same time. I was a moaning mess and it felt like I was on could nine. My body felt like it was engulfed in honey, he was sending so much pleasure into me just with three fingers and his tongue.

My hands worked their way to his hair pushing his face into me more because I need and want to feel more, I moaned out, "Jeongin, more give me more pleasure I feel something wierd in my stomach and I want more of that feeling!"

He snickered and hummed in response sending a vibration to my clit causing me to practically scream. His actions intensified and my whole body started shaking till I felt a release.

All the pressure that built up in my body was gone and I saw white sparkles floating around. My entire body jolted and I moaned out very loudly Jeongin licked up all my fluids and came back up to me kissing my stomach leaving hickies here and there then kissed my lips as I said, "S-so that's what having an orgasm f-feels like?!" I was completely out of breath.

Realizing that strawberry milk was actually not like an orgasm in my mouth but it was close.

Jeongin looked at me shocked, "You've never had an orgasm before?!?!? Either way I'm glad I was the one to cause it uwo." I just giggled and he got up and cleaned the whole mess. After he was finished cleaning and reclothing the both of us he got back in bed bringing me into his embrace as we fell back asleep enjoying each others embrace.

The next morning I woke up to my mom tapping on my shoulder and whispering, "I'm going to work now, I made some breakfast it's on the table whenever he wakes up remember to brush teeth and hygiene you don't want to look like teenage bums who hate the world, I love you, have a good day!!!" I hummed in response and waved to her goodbye as she left and snuggled back into Jeongin's embrace and fell back asleep.

Thirty minutes later I woke back up to Jeongin trying to get up without waking me, "Good morning innie! Go take care of your hygiene my mom made us breakfast." I said making him jump because I scared him, he nodded his head and pecked me on the lips before leaving to get clean.

#jeongin #jeongin oneshot #i.n. stray kids #jeongin stray kids #smut #fluff #scenario #oneshot #suggestive #jeongin smut #i.n. smut

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ahkaahshi · 4 years

Text

sleeping over at their s/o’s house for the first time [scenarios]

pairings: sakusa kiyoomi; hirugami sachirou; kuroo tetsurou x fem reader

genre: fluff and humor, as per usual

warning(s): n/a

notes: kinda popped off on hirugami’s part. couldn't help myself. not sorry bout it either. can’t wait til we get to see more of his cute lil face in the anime.

he is so painfully awkward I love him

will just stand in the entryway with his duffle slung over his shoulder, staring straight at you until you tell him when he can put his stuff

this literally isn’t his first time over at your house but he acts like it???

poor baby’s obviously nervous about ~ spending the night ~

immediately washes his hands

brings his own pillow

asks if you’ve sanitized all your surfaces recently/if anyone in your household has been sick lately

does he wanna play video games? not until he’s wiped down all the controllers.

does he wanna watch real housewives? no, but you put it on anyway because you know he secretly loves the drama

does he want a snack? possibly? but refuses to eat on your bed because lying on crumbs is nasty

all he does is get under the covers and hang out

only moves to brush his teeth and, of course, wash his hands

will do a face mask with you but only after thoroughly reading the contents of the bottle/package

wears his hoodie and sweats to bed

is asleep before 10pm

2/10. total party pooper who only gets points because he’s hot and dislikes the same housewives as you do

Moments after releasing a rather loud guffaw at a funny scene from the television show you have playing on your laptop, you hear a small groan echo from beside you. Turning your head to the source of the noise brings your attention to your boyfriend, whose tall form rested on the bed beside you, ensconced in your blankets. His eyelids flutter open and his eyes the color of charcoal fasten on you before narrowing in a small glare of annoyance from underneath the sea of black waves atop his head.

Maybe you would’ve felt even the slightest bit intimidated if his face wasn’t close to being absorbed by the yellow fabric of his hoodie--and if he hadn’t flattened his hair against his forehead by closing the drawstrings to secure his hood around his head.

“Kiyo!” you whine, crossing your arms in front of you chest, “Were you really asleep just now?”

His dark eyebrows furrow as he answers matter-of-factly, “Yes. You know I go to bed at ten o’clock, (f/n). It’s ten thirty.”

You roll your (e/c) eyes at him and protest, “But this is a sleepover! Would it kill you to stay awake a little longer so you can spend some precious time with your beloved girlfriend?”

“Lack of sleep can lead to sickness. Sickness can lead to death. So, yes, staying awake longer to spend precious time with my beloved girlfriend could kill me.”

“I hate you.”

He lets out a long sigh and reaches over towards your laptop to close it, putting an end to your Real Housewives marathon. Once he’s moved it off of your bed, one of his arms snakes around your waist and pulls your body down towards the mattress. His midnight gaze doesn’t falter as he says, “If you get sick, I won’t be able to spend time with you like this, so sleep with me.”

Your heart skips a beat at his tenderly spoken words, and you crawl underneath the covers so you can place your head on his muscular chest and curl up beside him. The feeling of his warmth surrounding you is enough to make you melt into his arms and forgive him for completely ditching you in favor of sleep.

“(F/n).”

“Yes, baby?”

“If you kick me off the bed, this will be our last sleepover.”

sweet boy who is very excited to spend the night at his girlfriend’s house!!

brings snacks and movies

he enjoys doing any activity with you, whether it’s watching movies, playing video/board games, or just cuddling on the couch and talking

not hard to please at all!!!

watches rom coms with you. secretly a hopeless romantic

you’ll probably spend at least ten minutes of your night trying to catch pieces of popcorn in your mouths

and another ten doing the same thing with m&ms

poor boy is too tall to fit under your blankets, so you have to give him an extra one for his legs and feet

bedtime attire consists of boxers with corgis on them, a sweater, and crew socks to keep his tootsies warm 🥺

brings you a pair of matching, corgi-patterned sleeping shorts bc he wants to twin with you

your parents are gone, meaning you can do chaotic activities...

... like baking at 2am!!

he loves to bake (and you can’t convince me otherwise). pls bake with him

wants to stay up all night with you but ends up passing out around 3am after y'all eat all the cookies you made together

11/10, best sleepover ever

Few things were more romantic than spending an evening with your boyfriend on your hands and knees, against the cold, tile floor of the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of the mess you’d created.

Lifting your gaze from the white goop coating the flooring, you glance over at Hirugami, who looks completely unfazed and unbothered despite his face still being decorated with dollops of whipped cream. Beholding this sight once more sends you into another fit of laughter that makes it hard for you to keep yourself steady.

“What?” he asks, a small smile creeping onto his lips at seeing you so amused.

In between breaths, you manage to ask, “Why’ve you still got whipped cream on your face?”

With a roll of his chestnut brown eyes, he uses his fingers to swipe some of it off so he can help himself to another serving. “Obviously,” he scoffs sassily, “I’m saving it for later.” His smart comment makes you snort rather unattractively, which, in turn, causes chuckles to pour out from his mouth. “I’m assuming that’s what you’re doing too, right?”

Your (e/c) eyes widen, since you thought you’d done a good job of clearing up the results of your whipped cream battle from your face. A glance at your reflection in the glass of the oven where the cookies were slowly baking soon proved you wrong. Instead of being irritated by this discovery, however, you let out another, wheezing laugh and fell onto your side.

To any outsider, the situation would’ve looked rather strange--an incredibly tall volleyball player dressed only in corgi-patterned boxers, a sweater, and socks, face covered in whipped cream as he fell about laughing with his girlfriend who wore a similar ensemble and was sporting the same whipped cream situation. However, in your defense, it was two o’clock am, and you were high on sugar.

"Come over here and I’ll get the rest off your face, then,” Hirugami suggests, extending his long arms towards you that beckon you closer to him. After you scoot closer to him, he pulls you into his embrace and starts peppering your skin reddened from laughing so heartily with kisses. With each press of his lips against your face, your heart flutters in your chest.

He only pulls away from you when the oven beeps, alerting you that the cookies you’ve been awaiting are finally ready. But he does so with hesitation, seeing as he’d been caught up in savoring the sweet taste of your lips instead.

“You ready to eat some cookies?” he asks with a grin.

Your reply makes him snicker: “Always.”

is fully prepared to stay up the entire night (spoiler alert: doesn't)

made an entire party playlist for y'all to listen to throughout the evening

expect lots of dancing, vibing, singing, and buzzfeed unsolved episodes

brings dance dance revolution over to your house and then proceeds to challenge you to a dance off

was not prepared for what you brought to the table

tries twerking to distract you but still fails

will go on a midnight mcdonalds run with you

is the kinda person to share deep, late night thoughts with

only with him can your conversations go from discussing the questions of human existence to debating which form of potatoes is the most elite

will 100% do face masks with you to keep his complexion lookin godly

INSISTS on watching scary movies

expectation: “don’t worry, babe; I got you!!”

reality: is visibly shaking underneath the covers, questioning all the shadows in your house

wears only a pair of shorts to bed even tho it’s cold af (he runs hot, if ya know what I mean heheh)

8/10. would’ve scored the last 2 points if he hadn’t stolen the blankets and made you wonder if your house was haunted

"(F/n).”

The familiar and gentle voice of your boyfriend rouses you from your semi-conscious state, and you hear the sheets of your bed rustle.

“I’m so tired, Tetsu... what is it?” you wonder groggily, not even bothering to open your eyes to see what’s upset him.

“I think your house is haunted,” is his response. Though he speaks calmly and coherently, his hazel eyes are wide with fear and darting around the dark bedroom.

“Oh, stop. I knew it was a bad idea to watch those supernatural Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes before bed.”

The bed sinks behind you, and you feel the warmth of the blanket he’d stolen from you earlier around your body as he pulls you towards him so your back is flush against his chest. While you appreciate his closeness to you, you can tell he’s far from relaxed. The grip his fingers have around one of your shoulders is tight, as if he’s using it as a stress ball.

You murmur his name with indignation and pry his cold hand off your shoulder, but press a gentle kiss against the back of it. “Baby, go to sleep.”

He noticeably stiffens when a quiet whoosh sounds from another part of your house. “What the heck was that?” he asks from where his face is buried in the back of your neck, too afraid to look around and risk finding something he might not want to see.

“The dishwasher.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, “the dishwasher... of course...”

With a gentle groan, you lift your head so you can turn and press a gentle kiss against his forehead in an attempt to soothe him. As soon as you plop back down onto your pillow, Kuroo takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, desperate to get a wink of sleep.

The sound of a creak brings both of you to attention moments later, however, and your heart begins to race.

“That was the house settling... right?” you whisper.

He pulls the blanket over both of your heads, fully cloaking your bodies beneath it and says, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

At this point, you realize it’s going to be a long night for reasons other than those you’d expected.

645 notes · View notes

winetae · 4 years

Text

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k

…

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman.

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳ or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -” You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally.

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state - a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves.

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened.

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly.

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp.

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves.

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence.

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;;#i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok #also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go #believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !

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hoboal87 · 3 years

Text

Baby Mine

Title: Baby Mine

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Jody, Alex, Claire, Bobby

Word Count: 1600+

Summary: You and Sam prepare for the birth of your son.

Warnings: post 15 x 20, fluff, implied dom/sub relationship, non-graphic descriptions of labor, breastfeeding.

A/N: This is my super late entry into @superbadassnatural‘s #333 badass followers challenge. My prompts are “I didn’t expect it to be this big,” and “this is disgusting”

A/N 2: This is set in the same universe as “The Tie,” and “Carry On,” but it can be read as a stand-alone.

No Beta, all mistakes are mine. I have tense issues, I know.

My Full Masterlist

Miracle’s head lies on your lap as you do your best to remain calm. You can feel the wetness of her nose against the small sliver of your exposed belly. It was unseasonably warm for South Dakota in the spring, and if you could’ve you would’ve been walking around naked all the time. Growing a Winchester has not been an easy task, and your doctor informed you at your last check up the baby will be at least 9 lbs.

Nine. Freaking. Pounds. You’re going to be pushing a nine pound baby out of your body, and Sam was already talking about having another one in a few years! You can’t even imagine wanting to go through all this again. Even though Jody and the mothers you’ve befriended over the last few months have assured you, that you’ll forget about all the bad, all the sickness, all the discomfort you’ve been feeling the second the baby’s born.

A clattering from your bedroom pulls you out of your head, giving you a moment of reprise. Sam’s muffled swears have you giggling as he frantically tries to pack your hospital bag. Jody had advised you to pack one over a month ago, but you and Sam had been so focused on making sure the nursery was ready, as well as warding your home, that you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Another grunt comes from the hall as Sam seemingly runs into your bathroom, and then into the nursery, where the baby's coming home outfit was luckily laid out on the changing table. By the time Sam makes it back into the living room, he’s nearly out of breath, eyes falling on you as your face scrunches in pain.

You’ve been in the early stages since last night, but you’d woken up to much more intense contractions a few hours ago. Sam takes your hand in his as you wince as a contraction rolls through you. He eyes the watch on his wrist, Dean’s watch, keeping track of the duration and time between each wave of pain.

“Y/N,” Sam whispers, calming himself when your eyes connect to his. “I think it’s time.”

“Alex said 5 minutes,” you huff, rubbing your swollen belly and giving him a pained smile. Having a nurse in the family was the best thing you could ever ask for. Alex, on the other hand, probably wishes she wasn’t, especially after Sam started calling her in the middle of the night with the most ridiculous questions that you’d ever heard of. You’d finally gotten him to stop, apologizing to Alex for another 3 a.m. frantic phone call about the possibility of the baby being born extra appendages.

Once Sam had adjusted to the news of your pregnancy, he dove deep into research, not that you were expecting anything else from him. Parenting magazines cover your coffee table, multiple books on pregnancy and birth are stacked on his bedside table, and he’d watched every youtube video relating to pregnancy and taking care of a newborn.

“I know, but baby we’re getting there. You’ve gone from 10 minutes to 7 in the last hour. The parenting book said–” You roll your eyes, your inner brat coming to the surface after months of being stifled. “Babygirl,” Sam tone changes, and you instantly relax at the phrase you haven’t heard in nearly a year. “Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track of all the punishments you’ll be getting as soon as you can handle it.”

It's just the distraction you need, and your eyes divert to the car seat against the wall.

Sam had tried and failed twice already on installing the carrier in the back seat of the Impala, spewing profanity as you watched, chuckling from the front porch. After nearly an hour, Sam gave up on the car seat, and joined you on the porch, his hand splaying softly over stomach. He leaned over, and placed a sweaty kiss on your lips, it was moments like those that Jody told you to cherish; and both you and Sam made it a point to do so.

“Then you better figure out how to properly install that in the back seat,” you sass.

An annoyed laugh leaves Sam as he glares at the yet-to-be defeated carrier, hesitating now to leave your side.

“It can wait.”

“It really can’t, babe,” you chuckle softly.

It’s less than an hour later that you and Sam pull up to Sioux Falls General Hospital. He’s holding you steady as you waddle towards the check-in desk. An orderly appears with a wheelchair, and wheels you away as Sam hands over all of your pre-registered paperwork. Alex is by your side before you realize it, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. She helps you dress into a hospital gown, and Sam rejoins you just as you take a seat on the bed.

Sam watches helplessly as your face contorts as another contraction rolls through your body. You squeeze his hand tightly, sure that you’re leaving crescent-shaped marks on him. This one is different than the others, it’s more intense, and longer-lasting than the others had been.

“Y/N, look at me, baby, you’re doing so good,” Sam praises as you whimper through the contraction. Sam leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead as the pain subsides. “You’re so strong, Y/N.”

“I didn’t expect it to be that big.”

Five hours later, you’re cradling your newborn son against your chest. Sam’s behind you, whispering praises in your ears and holding you tight against him. You present your breast to the babe, encouraging him to latch on, and to your delight he does so quickly. Sam makes a joke about how Dean was always a boob man, and you comment how his namesake must’ve inherited his predilection as well.

Sam tenses behind you, and you quickly realize your mistake. Dean was always on your mind, and moreso Sam’s, but you rarely, if ever, said his name out loud. It seemed to pain Sam to hear his brother’s name, so you avoided it as much as you could. But now the baby is here, and you wonder if it's a good idea to name him after the fallen Winchester.

Sam’s hands are wrapped around your still swollen center, and you turn your face to his. Tears are escaping from his hazel eyes, and when they meet your Y/E/C ones, he gives you a small smile.

“We don’t have to name him Dean,” you offer, even though you honestly couldn’t think of a more fitting name for your son. “If you don’t–”

“It’s not that, baby,” he sighs, wiping at the fallen tears. “I just– I miss him. Dean should– he should be here. He should be here to meet our son.”

You nod, and focus your attention back on the newborn, suckling gently at your breast. One of Sam’s hands leaves your stomach, and his fingers brush against the infant’s soft skin, remarking that he’d never seen a baby with so much hair, and that he looked so small. You chuckle, and remind him that if he had to push a nine-pound watermelon out of his body, he wouldn’t think it was small.

Sam concedes, unable to contain his laughter, and the brief tension that was in the room disappears and doesn’t return. After little Dean is finished, you and Sam take turns counting his fingers and toes, cooing at your son as you take in all his features.

A nurse returns, and you reluctantly let her take Dean away to be properly cleaned, weighed and measured. She instructs both you and Sam to sleep while you can, joking that you’ll be getting very little from now on. Thanks to Sam being a human incubator you curl up against him and let all of the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catch back up to you.

You're woken by Sam a few hours later, informing you that Jody, the girls, and Bobby are outside. Sam slips from behind you, and disappears out of the room for a moment before returning with your found family. Jody’s eyes are filled with tears, throwing her arms around you, congratulating you as Bobby claps Sam on the back.

The same nurse returns with Dean as everyone settles in their places around the room. Jody instantly fawns over the baby caressing his chubby cheeks before allowing Sam to pick him up and hand him over to her.

Jody makes a solid promise to spoil the boy rotten. Claire’s body language changed when Alex handed baby Dean over, and after a few minutes, didn’t want to seem to let him go. Bobby becomes impatient as Claire refuses to pass the baby on. Finally, Sam steps in, plucking the baby from her arms, and walking over to Bobby.

“You ready to meet your grandson?” Sam asks, and a smile you’d never seen before appears on Bobby’s face. Sam places the swaddled baby into Bobby’s arms, and you’re sure you see a tear slip down his cheek.

“Looks like he’s takin’ after his momma,'' Bobby laughs. “Lucky boy, hopefully you won’t be an idjit like your daddy and uncle,” he sends you a playful wink. “Just know you ain’t alone, kid. You got more people who will love and protect you than any other kid in the world.”

“Did you tell ‘em?” You ask, trying to move into a slightly more comfortable position.

“Tell us what?” Jody asks from the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N and I, we want you and Bobby to be his godparents. If anything were to ever happen to us, we want you to take care of him.”

“Well, maybe you can tell us his name first,” Claire pipes up, and you hadn’t even realized that you hadn’t told them yet.

“Dean,” Sam eyes his son still in Bobby’s arms. “Dean Robert Winchester.”

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Valentine Boy

(MOBILE-FRIENDLY VERS.)

Special Cover Art by @nakayutasama ❤️

Summary:

You’ve been dating College Student!Jaehyun for a few months now. He’s unbelievably sweet, smart, oh..and very handsome. Best of all, he gives you the best love you’ve ever had. He’s the love of your life and you can’t see anything going wrong as your relationship sails smoothly..that is..until you discover his biggest secret. He’s been hiding the fact that he’s a camboy and you start to wonder..Is Jaehyun as sweet and honest as you think he is?

Pairing: female reader X college student and camboy!Jaehyun

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: cursing, cheating, cam boy (video-recorded sex with online audience), deception, manipulation, blackmail, alcohol use, descriptive smut (fingering, overstimulation, face riding, dirty talk, BDSM themes (handcuff usage, spanking), drunk sex, oral sex (m&f receiving), some masturbation, rough sex, vaginal penetration, breast fondling, dry humping, semi-public sex).

(A/N): I received a message saying that Part 3 was difficult to read on mobile, the app would glitch and eventually close (because we love tumblr for being efficient). So I am splitting part 3 into 3 equal parts of about 7K words each for easier reading. Thank you all again for supporting this fic!!!!🥺❤️

Jaehyun pulls away and looks into your eyes. “Are you hungry?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He chuckles. “Me neither. Let’s get out of here.”

He takes your hand and leads you to his car. He then drives and parks in an empty parking lot. A soft song plays in the background as you begin to kiss again.

Jaehyun’s tongue traces over your bottom lip. You turn your head and run your hand down his chest, your delicate touch sending shivers up his spine.

Your hand travels all the way down to his jeans and rubs his bulge. He fidgets and moans into your mouth.

Jaehyun growls out:

“Needy.” *kiss*

“Girl.” *kiss*

You laugh, but continue to press onto the growing tent.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” You whisper.

“It was kinda hot.” Jaehyun kisses your neck and pulls your leg over his lap. “I was thinking of how I would punish you for it..how I’d shut you up.”

You climb over the center console and onto his lap, his arm around your waist as he helps you.

He pushes the seat back and puts his hands behind his head.

“No teasing this time, baby.”

You nod, quickly unbuttoning your shirt. The cold night air hits your chest but the warmth in the car quickly comforts it.

Jaehyun then pulls your bra down, your breasts popping out from it and bouncing gently.

He leans forward to palm both nipples, watching you as you bite your lips and moan quietly. The stars shining on your skin through the sunroof.

He licks one of your nipples and listens to you cry out. Your head falling back as he flattens his tongue against your heated skin once more.

He looks up at you through his lashes then sucks your nipple.

“Jaehyun..that feels so good.”

He hums and sucks as you move back and forth on his lap. His bulge presses against your underwear as your skirt slides up your thighs.

He zips his jeans down. You watch his length spring out, the tip red and dripping with pre cum. You could orgasm from the sight alone.

You leave your skirt on but shimmy out of your panties. He then pulls out a condom and glides it down onto himself.

“Come here..” Jaehyun calls to you then lays back down on the seat. You lower yourself slowly, thankful for your own essence that allows him to enter you easily.

“Fuck.” You mutter once he fills you up completely. You feel every ridge of every vein run against your silky walls. For some reason, he feels bigger than usual.

You move up and down and swivel your hips. Jaehyun’s dick glides into you easily now, your wet entrance happily greeting it each time.

Jaehyun watches you through low eyes. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t frown. It’s a blank face, it’s almost like he’s not really there with you.

The truth is, Jaehyun was thinking about how close he was to being caught. You went to his workplace and discovered the truth. He was able to cover it up quickly but he made you feel bad in the process. A part of him truly regretted lying to you. But he knew one day he would find a way to explain it all to you and he knew you would forgive him because you love him.

Your whimpers grow louder as you approach your climax, but Jaehyun is nowhere near his. You bounce up and down faster, hissing as you take in sharp breaths and closing your eyes as you clench.

He stares at you again and thinks of how precious you are to him. Your face is beautiful even as your mouth falls open into loud moans and your eyes shut tightly. Your jawline and neck sparkle not only with sweat, but the reflection of the stars above you.

Your womanhood feels amazing around him as it always does. He rubs your clit to push you further along.

“You can do it, baby, cum for me.” His deep voice echos.

The car is filled with lewd sounds of skin on skin and your cries.

“J-Jaehyun..” your name falls from his lips. He watches your perky nipples. He palms one with his other hand then pumps your breast.

You cum hard not long after. Curse words leave your lips as you fall apart on him. He continues to push into you, even as you clench uncontrollably around him.

He grips your waist and slams you down onto him, your tight pussy providing sensational vibrations to his cock.

“Ahh..that’s it, sweetheart.” Jaehyun grunts

“Baby!” Your eyes fly open. You are so sensitive and on the brink of passing out from your intense orgasm but he doesn’t stop to let you recover.

He pushes into you hard from below, you breathe heavily and look up at the sky as tears fall from your eyes.

“This pussy is mine right?” Jaehyun growls.

“Y-yes…yes.” Your head is empty as he continues to fuck into your body from below.

He then cums and stares at your body above him, so beautiful, so perfect.

You lay on top of him for a moment. He holds you against him in his arms.

“I’m sorry..” He whispers then kisses your ear.

“I’m sorry, too.” You whisper back.

A few minutes later, you get into the passenger seat and let Jaehyun drive you home.

However, he has to make a stop at the gas station to fill up.

When he goes inside to pay the cashier, you grab his phone.

You tried to think of the security code. What could it have been? You tried his birthday, but it didn’t work, you tried several other basic combinations like ‘1,2,3,4’ or ‘9,8,7,6’ they didn’t work.

Jaehyun was still inside, but you only had one more try before his phone would lock itself for a few minutes.

You thought for a minute then tried one final code..your birthday. And it worked.

You quickly went to your contact name on his phone and selected “share my location.” This way, if you ever needed to get to him, you would know exactly where he is.

The idea sounded crazy to you, but a part of you still felt unsure about everything. You wanted to bring up the text messages you saw, but you knew that would make him upset again. He’d ask why you invaded his privacy. So instead, you decide to have his location turned on for you to see…just in case.

Jaehyun gets back in the car and you’ve already placed his phone back in the cup holder.

“Let’s get out of here..” he gives you a wide smile and winks.

————

[A Few Days Later at 12:33 PM]

You to Jaehyun: hey baby, just got out of class, what are you up to

Jaehyun to You: getting ready for work at 1, I’ll be free at 3:30, I’ll come over to your place

You to Jaehyun: sounds good, love u

Jaehyun to You: I love you, too

You immediately place your phone back into the pocket of your shorts and head for the bus loop at your university. These buses were free and available for students, staff, and professors to use. Since you didn’t have a car, you found it very convenient, for there was always a route that could bring you to or at least close enough to your desired destination.

You had to see where Jaehyun was when he went to work. Something didn’t feel right and your mind hadn’t been at ease for days. You wanted to trust Jaehyun, but you couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation for his weird schedule and the way he would act whenever you asked him about his job. It was like he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d change the subject.

You got on a bus that would take you in the direction of where he worked. You went to his contact name in your phone once you sat down, and at 1PM, you saw that he was no longer moving based on his blinking dot, he was stable in a location after traveling there. When you looked closer, you realized that the location he was at was not his work address. It was close, but not exactly where his work was.

After about 20 minutes, you pulled the string to let the driver know that you wanted to get off at the next stop.

You stepped off and proceeded on the rest of your journey on foot, walking closer and closer to where the blinking dot was.

When you were just a few feet away from him, but very far from the building he claimed to work in, you noticed that you were in an apartment complex.

Your heart started to beat fast. What could he possibly be doing here?

You walked closer and closer, eventually to the very apartment building he was in. You looked at your blinking dot and at his blinking dot and saw that they were nearly on top of each other.

What would you do now? You couldn’t just knock on the door of any random apartment, people would think you’re crazy or sketchy.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes. This couldn’t be happening. You swallowed hard then did what you had to do next.

You opened Safari and went to OnlyCams, then looked up the username of the person that your best friend showed you after Valentine’s Day. Your hands started to shake, you were so nervous you felt as though you would throw up right then.

You knew your suspicions would be wrong, for Jaehyun could never do this to you. No, he loved you too much, he wouldn’t lie to you, you just had to trust him.

Live.

They’re live. Shit.

You take a deep breath and quickly make a fake account by signing up for a free trial and registering your email. It was a stretch but you had to know, you’ve gotten so close.

Once you’re finally in the chat room under the video playing, you see a couple on a couch. The male’s head isn’t shown, but the naked woman has a leash around her neck that is being pulled by him as he fucks her from behind. Her eyes are teary and her cheeks are stained with mascara as she moans. The man yanks the leash and pushes even harder, her ass hitting against his pelvis.

You narrow in on the man and the room, looking for anything that would indicate that it’s him.

He grunts, but you can’t tell if they’re his grunts.

That’s when you see a phone on the table by the couch. It’s off to the side, barely in the camera’s view point.

You take a deep breath and decide to call Jaehyun.

You put the call on speaker as it rings then switch back over to the live stream. Sure enough, the phone on the table lights up as a call comes in. You shudder. You can’t see the contact name, but it could just be a coincidence right?

The screen goes black just as the phone stops ringing. You hang up and wait for a moment.

While you wait, the couple change positions with the other woman over his lap as they sit on the couch. He chokes her while she bounced up and down on him.

You still can’t see his face, but his hands look familiar. The length of his fingers look familiar.

You swallow hard then dial him up again. The phone on the table rings.

You let out a shaky breath as tears come to your eyes. It was him, it had to have been. You end the call then exit the stream.

It becomes difficult to hold onto your phone as the reality sets in, the reality of what you had been hoping was not true. Jaehyun was cheating on you. All those times that he said he was going to work when he was really going to another woman.

You’re a fool. You thought to yourself. How could you not know that he would cheat on you?

You sat down at the end of the staircase outside of the apartments and placed your head on your arms. You cried into them hard, finding it difficult to even breathe as your world crumbled before you.

Everyone told you from the beginning that Jaehyun was a player, that he didn’t stay with one girl for too long, that his appetite could never be satisfied. But you ignored them, you trusted him and gave in to him. You thought he loved you, you thought you were different.

He made you feel like you were good enough, that he loved you more than anything in this world. He played his game so well.

“I’m so fucking gullible.” You cursed to yourself and sobbed harder. You wanted to walk home but you didn’t have any strength in your legs, you could only sit and rest your head into your arms. Even when the dark sky was about to burst with what would be the worst thunderstorm, you stayed there. You didn’t care if you got wet, you didn’t care about anything really.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, wishing that your mom were there to comfort you, wishing that you could run until you couldn’t run anymore, with the pain of breathing and walking becoming so unbearable that it would finally overtake this pain you felt right now.

It felt like you had been stabbed in the heart and Jaehyun was watching you bleed to death.

How could he do this to you? That’s all you keep thinking.

And when it was 3:30 PM, you heard a door click open. You stood up and turned around.

Jaehyun was at the top of the staircase, locking the door behind him.

His movement froze when he turned and saw you at the bottom of it.

“Y/n?” His breathy voice echoed in the hall.

Your eyes were red and swollen, he knew you had been there crying for quite some time and he felt his heart break.

“Y/n..please..I can explain.” He hurries down the stairs but you shake your head and burst into tears as you run away from him.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you to him. “Please, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Fuck you, Jaehyun! I know it’s you, I watched it on my fucking phone! Let go!”

“No! Baby, I-“ Jaehyun’s grip doesn’t loosen as he begs you to stop.

Without thinking, you slap him with your free hand. He lets go and your mouth falls open but you don’t say anything, you turn around and run.

Jaehyun touches his red cheek then runs after you as the rain begins to pour down on both of you. “Y/n!! I’m sorry! But I can explain, just stop. Let’s talk about this!”

But you continue running. Your vision is blurry, your tears mixing with the rain as you run faster and faster. You keep going, just as long as you get away from him.

Jaehyun eventually slows down and stops following you. “Fuck.” He curses and throws his backpack to the ground.

He bends over and pants, how could he have messed up so bad? He let lust and greed take over, and now, he lost you.

———

[One Week Later]

It’s been a few days since you discovered Jaehyun’s secret. Your best friend helped you by making you laugh or helping you cook dinner. She’d take you to your favorite ice cream shop or bar and get you drunk. But unfortunately, you always ended up crying after the fun.

Everything reminded you of him, you couldn’t get his dimply smile or beautiful laugh out of your head.

You deleted his number from your phone, or rather, your best friend deleted it, but he kept texting you. You didn’t let her know this but you recognized the number.

Jaehyun to You: Please, talk to me, I messed up but I still love you

You’d receive messages like this at least twice a day. The first day after you caught him, he texted you once an hour. It was difficult but you were able to turn your phone off and cry in bed alone. He didn’t dare try to see you as you both knew your best friend would be crazy enough to cut him if he tried.

You would’ve loved some comfort and wisdom from your mom, but you knew she too loved Jaehyun. She invited him over many times and enjoyed his company. He made her laugh and smile with his charm. She would’ve been devastated if she knew what he had done.

But for now, you only had your best friend and her boyfriend.

“I feel like a complete idiot.” You said one night at dinner.

“He’s a fucking douchebag. He didn’t deserve you, but don’t worry you’ll find someone better.” Jackson, your best friend’s boyfriend tried to help you feel better. It had been a week and you guys ate out at a Korean barbecue place.

You nodded and looked at the sizzling beef.

The night went on and the three of you talked about other things so you wouldn’t think about him, but in the quiet moments you saw how cute they looked together. You remembered how cute you and Jaehyun looked together, walking hand in hand as you explored the city.

That night, when you were alone in your bed, you decided to delete the photos of him and any couple photos you had from your Instagram. You didn’t look at the pictures for long, because it would be difficult to let go, but you had to try. It was the first step you needed to take towards moving on.

But one photo caught your attention. It was the one of him in the vinyl store. You snapped a quick Polaroid of him flipping through vinyls to buy. He was adorable in his white T-shirt under a brown button down. His ears turned a peachy pink when you caught him off guard. His hair was wavy and made him look innocently cute.

He laughed and looked away shyly, like a girl that had just been asked out.

Just remembering his face sent butterflies through your stomach. You smiled to yourself as you heard him singing like you did that day.

He picked up a Styx vinyl and showed it to you.

“Look at this one..” He said while running his hand over the cover.

“Styx? Who’s that?” Your lips pursed.

“You don’t know them?”

“Never heard of them.” You shrugged.

“Oh come on, don’t you know ‘Babe?’’ His eyes widened.

“NOPE, but if you sing it to me, maybe I will.” You gave him a wink and stepped closer to him while looking into his eyes.

He chuckles and looks away. “Well, I guess it’s time to embarrass you.”

“Wait..” Your eyes grow, but Jaehyun quickly places the record down and grabs you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

He pecks your lips as you press your hands against his chest.

“Jaehyun!” You giggle as he lays even more kisses along your jaw and neck. People in the store turn to you and start to laugh.

“The song goes…

‘'Cause you know it’s you babe

Whenever I get weary

And I’ve had enough

Feel like giving up

You know it’s you babe’.”

He sings obnoxiously loud, but it’s beautiful. You loved hearing him sing. His voice was soothing and had a warm tone about it. You’d never heard anything like it before. The raspiness of it gave you chills every time.

Tears fall onto your pillow while you remember the good times. You go to YouTube and search for the song so that you can listen to it, knowing that it would make you cry harder. But you just wanted to hear it..just one more time.

You cried yourself to sleep again, forgetting that you were supposed to delete the photo.

—————

Jaehyun stares at the text box. He sees the blue messages he’s sent and waits for you to text him back even though he knows you won’t.

He places his phone down on the bar and rubs his tired eyes. He hadn’t slept much, he stayed up and cried sometimes over you. He hated himself for what he did and he wished he could make everything right. He hoped that one day you would give him a second chance.

But unfortunately, he just wanted to stop thinking about you for now. He missed your touch, your smile, your scent, your hair, your giggle. He missed everything. He couldn’t work with Reina anymore because he was so heartbroken to lose you. Why didn’t he just tell you honestly from the very beginning when he started this job? Why couldn’t he tell you when you had so many chances to before?

He downed another shot and swallowed the bitter liquid hard. Getting drunk would help him forget how he was feeling, if just for a few hours. He thought he wouldn’t see you if his vision was blurry.

He is too drunk to walk or drive, so he calls the one woman that would take care of him.

“Reina..I need you.” He mumbles over the phone.

Reina is ecstatic as she drives Jaehyun home. She’s more than happy about the breakup and believes that he will finally be hers.

“Take me to your apartment, I can’t let anyone on campus see me like this.” Jaehyun leans against the passenger window. He starts to sober up and hates himself once again for calling on Reina for help.

When they get back to her apartment, Reina pours herself a glass of wine and sits on the couch next to Jaehyun.

He bends over and screams, but she’s unaffected.

“Damn it!” He lets out.

She swirls her wine while looking at the glass in her pretty hand.

“This is all your fault!” Jaehyun yells.

“Are you talking to yourself, Jaehyun?” She takes a long sip then places the glass down.

“No! I’m talking to you. You ruined my relationship. I was so happy with her..then you came along and offered me this fucking job.” Jaehyun sat up straight and looked at the floor while crossing his arms. His hair is disheveled and his face is red.

She laughs. “This is my fault? You’re the one that got yourself into this. You should’ve stopped when you had the chance. You should’ve told her the truth, Jaehyun.”

“Fuck you..I should’ve said no, you always wanted me more than I wanted you and now look at me. I’m alone, I’ve lost the one woman I love.”

Reina scoffs. “No, fuck you for coming to me when you have no one else!” She says and storms off into her room. “You’re an asshole and I should’ve never gotten involved with you! She hates you and I hate you too, Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun stands up and walks over to her room. He holds her shoulder and brings her to the wall. “What did you say?”

“I said I hate you.” Reina pouts and stares at his lips. She started to tear up at his words when she realized that she wouldn’t get him now that you two had broken up. He was still in love with you, she didn’t stand a chance.

A low chuckle escapes his chest and it makes Reina weak to see his smirk. He’s drunk and sweaty but she wants him so badly. His dark eyes narrow in on hers, making her feel small.

“That’s not very nice of you. I recall you wanting to be my girl, even stalking me in Bali.”

“Y-yes, I did that, but I was a fool to think you’d want me. Even now, I’m a fool..”

He grabs her chin in between his thumb and index finger. “No, you’re not. You just have to show me why I should be yours then, kitten.”

Jaehyun was too good at getting Reina where he wanted her. She had a weakness for him and he knew it. He knew what to say to make her fall for him every time.

She can’t resist him. She rubs her hand over his crotch before pulling the zipper down.

He takes her hand and flips her around so his chest is on her back and she lays flat against the wall. He flips her skirt up and teases her entrances with his tip.

“What do you want me to do?” Jaehyun whispers into her ear from behind.

“Fuck me, Jaehyun.”

He enters her swiftly, sliding into her easily as she moans.

They have sex without cameras, but it isn’t the first time they’ve gotten drunk and done something they’d both come to regret the next day.

She rides him as he lays on the bed and imagines that it’s you above him. He can hear your whimpers and see your dazzling skin. He can feel your dainty touch, it’s like you’re right there with him.

His vision is blurry, he tricks himself into believing that Reina is really you.

He flips her over and hugs her while still grinding into her body below him. “Baby, I love you, I love you so much.” He says to Reina, forgetting that she’s not you.

Reina, on the other hand, believes that he’s talking to her. She cums unexpectedly and smiles to herself thinking she finally has him, he’s going to be her boyfriend because he just said he loves her.

—————

[The Next Day]

Jaehyun wakes up to a buzz from his phone.

When he forces his sleepy eyes open he sees Reina in his arms. “Shit.” He says quietly and then carefully shimmies out of the bed. He struggles to remember what happened the night before, but based on his naked body, he knows he and Reina had sex and he deeply regrets it.

He looks at his phone, his eyes widening when he sees your name pop up.

You to Jaehyun: we need to talk.

You couldn’t stay away from him anymore, you missed him so much your heart hurt. You texted him because despite what everyone had told you, you had seen a different Jaehyun during these months. Something about him had to be genuine, and you wanted to stop crying at night. And your best friend knew you needed closure. She wanted to feel better so she supported your decision to talk with him.

Jaehyun quickly responds.

Jaehyun to You: yes, when and where

You hesitate to answer. Is this what you really wanted? Do you really think he could change?

You to Jaehyun: meet me downtown at 12 PM

Jaehyun puts his clothes on and calls for an Uber to take him back to the bar that his car is at.

As he’s about to leave, Reina surfaces with her blanket wrapped around her.

“Where are you going?” She rubs her eyes.

Jaehyun turns and replies with a wide smile, “She texted me back! I’m going to make things right!”

Reina frowns. “But..”

“I’ll text you later and let you know how things go!” He heads out the door. It slams shut behind him. Reina stands and fights tears, once again feeling neglected, disappointed and hurt. She had gotten her hopes up..again.

————

[Downtown, 12 PM]

You stepped on your toes as you anxiously waited for Jaehyun. Maybe he changed his mind, what if he didn’t show?

What if he didn’t care—

You see him, his hair a bit messy but he walks quickly towards you.

You gulp and feel your chest cave in at the sight of him, your love.

“Hey..” You say quietly.

“Y/n..” The way your name leaves his lips in a breathy, low tone makes your legs weak.

He stops before you, you look up at him and breathe deeply. You can do this, stay strong. Your best friend’s words echo in your head. You had to remain firm and not fall for him in the first twenty seconds like a fool.

“Can we walk?” He asks.

“Sure.” You shrug.

The two of you walk side by side in silence for a few minutes.

The day is bright and sunny, the wind feels good on your skin.

“Y/n…a few months ago, I met this girl named Reina. She was in the top 10% of creators on OnlyCams and she offered me a job. She said I could work with her and we’d split the profits evenly. It’s an easy job. I just have to…have sex with her on camera and that’s it. We were only supposed to meet once a week to create content, but then the subscribers wanted more. We knew we could make money so we met more often. I let it get out of hand.”

He takes a deep breath. “I-I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her..I should’ve just said no and gotten a regular job. I should’ve thought of you first, I thought it was okay because it was just physical not emotional, but it’s not okay and I’ve hurt you.”

You stop and turn to him. “No, it’s not okay, Jaehyun. I fucking hate you for this.”

Jaehyun swallows hard and looks away from you. “I’m tired of walking, can we get on the Ferris wheel?”

The city had a large Ferris wheel that rested at the center of downtown. It was an attraction that many people went on to complete their vacations.

“Only if you pay.” You roll your eyes, Jaehyun holds back a laugh.

The two of you get in your own pod and sit down. It’s the perfect day to enjoy this ride. It’s quiet and not too many people walk around, you can really enjoy nature and the view of the city from above. But unfortunately, your heart was still broken and you were still sad.

“You cheated on me several times. I gave you so many chances to be honest with me, but you turned it on me every single time! You made me feel like I was crazy not to trust you when things just weren’t adding up. And here I am, being a fool for you.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry for being an ass all those times. I know I could never make up for it, I want you to know that I love you and I’ll be okay with whatever you choose to do now that it’s over. But I hope you’ll choose me, I hope you’ll give me a second chance.”

“You know me, you know I would’ve been okay with it had you told me..It’s just a job, Jaehyun. Why didn’t you tell me?” You turn to him with tears in your eyes again.

“Because I thought you’d break up with me for even thinking about doing this with someone else. I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you.”

“Well, now I’ve broken up with you for lying AND cheating. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough, and Valentine’s Day was the icing on the cake. You spent it with someone else. Do you know how hard that was for me? Oh and in Bali, you lost it when I simply danced with someone that I thought was you yet you were fucking someone else daily? That’s twisted and crazy…” You scoffed. “And you expect me to trust you again?”

Jaehyun gives you pleading eyes. “I know…I’m a piece of shit, I can’t take it back, but I can be better, I promise. Losing you has taught me so much.”

“What else is a lie, Jaehyun? Are you really into painting or was that something you used on all your girls?”

“I swear to you I never lied about anything else, I love you, every moment we had was sincere. You weren’t a game to me. Please..believe me.”

He places his hand on top of yours. You glance down at it and pull your hand away.

You shake your head. “I don’t even want to be here with you right now. How long is this ride?”

“Um…thirty minutes..”

“THIRTY MINUTES? Are you serious, Jaehyun?!!”

He nods and scoots closer to you. “Don’t worry, it’ll go by fast as long as we talk. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Jaehyun…” You exhale and let a few tears fall. He quickly wiped them from your face as he stared at you. “Do you love her?”

His brows furrow. “No, of course not. She’s just my coworker and I plan on stopping if you come back to me, I’ll never do those things on camera again.”

“Does she love you?” You look outside to avoid his gaze.

“I-I don’t know and I don’t care, because you’re all that matters to me.” Jaehyun just wants to hear you say yes, he just wants to see you smile again.

You turn to him. “Jaehyun..I don’t know..I need time.”

“Okay, we have about twenty minutes left on this..” He sits back and looks out through the wide window.

The city is nice, peaceful. The buildings come together like legos but less pretty.

You start to think of all your moments together. Would you stay with him to experience more special moments together just to be hurt in the end?

You stare outside and think of everything as time passes by. You sit there in silence but it isn’t awkward, it’s comfortable, actually. You’re allowed to think.

When there’s only about ten minutes left and the ride starts to descend, Jaehyun gets on his knees and kneels below you.

“I love you..I always will..and I’ll give you however much time you need, even if that means waiting until the day I take my last breath.” A tear runs down his cheek as he looks up at you.

“Jae..” You exhale. “Get up, don’t be so dramatic..”

But he doesn’t move. You rub your hand along the side of his beautiful face and bite your lip.

“Fine. I’ll give you another chance, but if you hurt me…I never want to see you again.”

Jaehyun jumps up onto the bench beside you and takes your face in his hands.

He kisses you for a long time, placing his lips on your chin. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I’m so sorry, I’ll never hurt you again.”

You nod.

The two of you went over to your place and made love, you told each other how much you missed being together.

You felt like you could give Jaehyun a chance, it was a mistake and you truly hoped he learned.

————

[A Few Days Later]

Jaehyun receives a few missed calls from Reina. He hasn’t seen her since that night and he doesn’t want to.

“You should be upfront with her, don’t keep her waiting.” You told him as the two of you ate lunch together.

Jaehyun swallows a piece of his sandwich and nods. “You’re right, it’s gonna be difficult to face her, but I have to.”

That night, Jaehyun takes you with him to Reina. You wait in the car as he goes to her apartment. She gives him a big hug after she opens the door, but Jaehyun pulls away quickly.

“Reina..listen..I’m done…I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be Valentine Boy.”

Reina’s mouth falls open.

“Y/n and I are together now so..it’s best if I stop this now..”

“Jaehyun..think about the money.” Reina pleads with knitted brows.

“It’s not worth it, I don’t want to lose her. I’m sure you can find someone else to take my spot or you can do it solo.” Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Reina’s eyes start to water. “But you said you loved me..”

Jaehyun sighs and turns his head. “Reina, please, I was drunk and thinking of her, you know that. You know that I’m always thinking about her.”

He turns to leave before Reina can say anything else.

He joins you in the car and lets out a loud exhale.

“How did it go?” You ask him.

“Well..She’s not too happy..But it doesn’t matter..She’ll be fine.”

That’s what Jaehyun thought, but he was wrong. Reina was furious and had another plan. She wasn’t going to let him go that easily. She was going to make him regret ever leaving her.

She threw her plate with her dinner on it to the floor and watched the glass scatter.

————

[One Week Later]

You and Jaehyun relax at the park. You hold hands while walking through it and share a triple scoop ice cream cone.

“You’re hogging all the chocolate..” he says before leaning closer to you and attempting to take the cone out of your hand.

“Ah! ah! if you want it, you have to get it from my lips.” You wink and rub some of the chocolate ice cream onto your lips.

“That works for me.” He lays a smooch onto them.

You giggle from the ticklish feeling of his tongue on your bottom lip.

You both sit down on a bench and watch dogs play at a dog park.

“This is nice.” He says before wrapping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. His warmth almost outbeats the sun itself and he smells like fresh apples.

“It is..I love dogs..I wish I could have one here..”

“Do you miss Hazelnut?” Jaehyun asked.

You laughed out loudly and turned to him. “Her name is Peanut.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” His eyes crinkled as he laughed at his mistake.

“But yeah I miss her. You know I don’t get to see her much because my dad took her away when he left my mom. I hope she’s doing well.” You missed your 12-year old poodle dog from home. You thought of how helpful she’d be when you were stressed. You always rubbed her coat when you were at your desk, studying for a difficult exam in high school. She’d sit beside you and look up at you with wide eyes. It was as if she was silently telling you ‘you’ll be okay’.

Then, shortly after you entered your last year, your dad left your mom and decided to take her with him since your mom wouldn’t let him take you.

It was a weird split you thought, but it was what it was. Fortunately, you were old enough to be mature about everything, but the pain of watching your parents split after so many seemingly happy years of unity still hurt you.

“I’m sure she’s doing well, babe.” Jaehyun rubs his hand along your arm.

———-

[A Few Days Later]

You get on the bus that takes you to campus so you can attend your first class of the day. You notice that a few glances shoot your way, while you sit on the bus and look out the window.

Is there something on your face, you wonder.

You pull your phone to look at yourself and surely, there’s nothing on your face. Maybe you were just imagining things.

You finally get to campus and that’s when you notice that more people stare at you. Some look away but some give you a look of disgust that you’re confused by.

Your brows furrow. What was going on?

You look down at your phone when you feel it vibrate in your hand. It’s a text from your best friend.

Bella to You: don’t go to class

She then calls you before you can reply.

“Bella? What’s going-“

“Where are you?!” She yells over the phone.

“I just got off the bus. What’s going on?”

And that’s when you see it. Posters of you posted all over on trees and taped to buildings. Some were the small, some were big and hard to ignore.

Your mouth fell open. They were pictures of you that Jaehyun took. Adult pictures and nudes that you had sent him. The ones you sent him on Valentine’s Day and the ones from Bali. Some were of you hollowing your cheeks around Jaehyun while some were taken from behind you, wrists in handcuffs.

They’re obscene pictures and now everyone has seen them.

Only Jaehyun had access to these photos, how could he do this to you, how could he do something so mean? Your hands start to shake, you run off to the nearest bathroom to avoid any more gazes.

Once in the stall, you unlock your phone and go to call Jaehyun, but you see that you’ve got a new email from one of your professors and…the Dean.

Miss y/l/n,

We have noticed a series of adult rated photos have been placed across campus. These photos were also sent to our emails from your email address. Please see us at 2:30 PM today so we may discuss this. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated. It is not a joke and now housekeeping will have to remove every poster that has vandalized our beautiful campus.

You hold your head as you cry. This couldn’t be happening. They thought you had done this.

You had to call them and let them know that you were being harassed.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun was searching for the perfect puppy for you at the animal shelter.

All of the puppies were adorable, but none of them seemed to be the right fit for you..that was until he got to the end of the line and met the cutest Senior dog.

Her name was Dora and she was a small brown and white corgi with big ears.

“This is Dora, she’s 9 years old, but she’s a great companion, and loves to cuddle while you read to her.” The shelter worker told him.

Jaehyun chuckled at her name. “Dora…the explorer?”

“Yeah, she’s a senior dog so not many people are interested in caring for her. They’re afraid of how much work it’ll be..we can take a look at the other dogs if you’d like or we can-“

“I’ll take her.” Jaehyun smiles.

Dora gave him the widest smile and started to shake the little nub on her bum.

That’s when he knew that she was the one. He knew that Dora would make you so happy. So he adopted her and took her home.

He took her to the pet store and bought her food, treats, toys, two bowls and a bed.

It felt like the two of you were going to raise a child together and Jaehyun couldn’t stop smiling to himself. He was so happy to be with you. Everything felt right.

He waits for you at his place, but as he relaxes into his couch with Dora falling asleep on his chest, he gets a text message with a random link.

Without thinking, he clicks the link and it opens to an anonymous post on the OnlyCams website.

His eyes widen when he sees what it is. It’s a folder with pictures and a video of you.

The one he took of you.

“What the-“ He immediately closes the site and opens his iCloud. He didn’t upload the pictures so who did?

When he sees his log in history, he sees an address that he recognizes and confirms his suspicions.

He dials up Reina and sits up straight, placing Dora down to his side.

“Hello, Valentine Boy.”

“Reina! What did you do?!”

She chuckles over the line. “I did what I had to..”

Before he can get another word out, he feels his phone vibrate as he receives a call.

It’s you.

He hangs up on Reina and answers your call. “Y/n. It wasn’t me, I-“

“You were the only one that had those pictures Jaehyun! Do you think this is some kind of sick joke? Did I do something to you?!” You sob and yell over the phone.

“No, baby, believe me, I didn’t do this! It was Reina..I.”

“So this is why you took that video and those pictures of me, so you could embarrass me in front of the entire school. Well, good job, Jaehyun. Now I have to meet with the fucking Dean! I never want to see you again!” You hang up and slam your phone onto the sink.

“Damn it..” Jaehyun exhales and plops down onto the couch, unsure of what to do next.

————

Part 4 Preview

Reina places the final touches on your lipstick and looks into your eyes. “You look beautiful, y/n. I know it’s your first time, and I know you’re nervous, but it will be okay, just follow my lead.”

She smiles defiantly and tightens the pink collar around your neck.

PART 3.1 | PART 3.2 | PART 3.3 |

271 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 29

; Hoseok x Reader

;Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Warnings: Discussions of periods and contraception

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I know it’s taking a long time for me to update this but I hope you enjoy it :D Please reblog if you do and let me know what you think my commenting on this or sending me an ask!

; Flower Masterpost

“Hey, meeps,” You hear Hoseok’s voice calling to you from the end of the aisle, his new nickname for you now gaining its own nickname as well. “If sunflower oil is made from sunflowers, and coconut oil is made from coconuts...then baby oil…”

He trails off, raising his eyebrows and giving you a scandalous look as he holds up a bottle of baby oil. For a moment, you just stare at him blankly before sighing and rolling your eyes in amusement. Taking the bottle from him, you place it back down onto the shelf before linking your arm through his.

Thankfully, he lets you direct him back to the little section they have in this makeup and skincare store that’s fully dedicated to Korean beauty. This is one of those strange stores where they have tons of products that are basically on sale yet also have branded stuff alongside it. Not that you cared though; it had the Korean brands you swore by for your skin and you were more than tempted to try out the Japanese beauty stand next to it.

For someone who isn’t particularly bothered about the whole concept of skincare, though you had managed to convince him to at least improve his routine, Hoseok was being a pretty good boyfriend right now. He hadn’t complained about the half an hour you’d spent perusing the makeup to find new stuff to put into your collection and he still wasn’t complaining as you filled your basket with face masks.

If anything, he’d managed to entertain himself quite well.

But you think he was being good purely because you’d gone with him to a concert last night. It had been for one of his favourite bands, Metallica, and he’d ended up with a spare ticket as Jungkook had ended up ill with food poisoning. He had been about to go on his own, but you hadn’t liked the thought of him being lonely so you’d gone with him.

You’d recognised some of the songs they’d played from whenever Hoseok played them in the car or the house but it hadn’t been your scene. Still, it had been fun enough and you’d more than enjoyed seeing Hoseok happy as he’d rocked out to his beloved band.

It did mean that you were exceptionally tired today though as the two of you hadn’t gotten home from the stadium they’d performed in until after 2 am. That had been the closest performance apparently and you’d been shattered, sleeping until well after 11 am. Hoseok had promised you a day of relaxation, which you’d jumped on by asking him to do a full Korean skincare routine with you tonight.

He’d agreed, and you’d eagerly dragged him out to this store to replenish your supplies. The makeup was just because it was there and you couldn’t resist it. Already you were coming up with ideas for looks in your head that you could create and then put onto your Instagram. Moving places had meant that you hadn’t done many looks lately and you were eager to change that.

Especially now that you had a yard to take nice photos in. Hoseok and you had both been working hard on the weekends and evenings to transform the yard from the overgrown mess it had been into something nice. Nothing too amazing or expensive as it wasn’t your own house but nice enough that it made from some pretty aesthetic photos.

Placing a final bottle of moisturiser in your basket, you smile at Hoseok and hold it up proudly. He just looks at you in amusement for a second before smiling back.

“All done! We can go to pay now.” While you pay for all your new stuff, he goes and waits outside for you. Which you discover means he intently window shops at the video game store, getting that look on his face when he wants to do something.

Feeling that your bladder is a little too full right now, you glance over to where the public restrooms are and move over to Hoseok. “You can go in if you want, I’m going to the restroom so I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He takes your bag for you like the gentleman he is before disappearing inside, immediately making a beeline for the Playstation 4 section. You have a feeling he might be about to drop some money given how interested he’d been in some of the new games that have been released in the last few months.

Any thoughts of games are wiped from your mind very quickly though when you’re on the toilet. The sight of red staining your underwear has your eyes widening in horror as you realise that your period has decided to make an early appearance. For a moment you simply stare, brow creasing before you reach for your bag and grab your phone.

The period app you use says that you shouldn’t have started for another four days and you curse your body for doing whatever it likes. Scowling at the stain, you attempt to clean it before sighing in defeat, acknowledging that at least you were wearing black jeans today.

Another rummage in your bag causes you to find another problem, this one sending ice water running through your veins. Grabbing it and placing it onto your knees, you visually scan through every space and almost pull out the entire contents before letting out a small sound of despair.

You had no tampons.

Cursing to yourself quietly, you finish up and make do with an almost ridiculously large amount of toilet paper. Rushing out, you wash your hands before moving over to the machine that always had condoms, sanitary pads and tampons.

Only to see the ‘sold out’ sign on both the buttons you need. Groaning quietly, you do a little dance of frustration as you realise there are not even any other women in the restroom for you to ask. Not that you would. As if your social anxiety would allow for that!

So instead you have to slink outside and into the game shop, lip jutting out in a slight pout as you become hyper-aware of yourself. Can other people smell the blood? What if you leak through all the toilet paper and it does somehow show through your jeans?! What if you leak through onto a chair!

Hoseok wanted to get something to eat after this and you were dreading having to sit there for ages. Playing with your fingers nervously, you move over to where he’s crouched in front of the PS4 stand. He already has two game cases in his hand and is reading the back of another one, your bag of goodies on the floor between his feet.

Glancing up at you, he grins brightly before showing the cover of one of the cases he’s got.

“Look! The Spider-Man game is on sale! You want to play this, right?” Absentmindedly, you nod. The back of your mind takes in the fact that he’s also got Divinity: Original Sin 2 in his ‘buy’ hand and the other case he’s considering is the Doom remake. You wish that you could let him browse more but the drug store wasn’t close by and you didn’t want to just abandon him suddenly.

Still, the thought of what was going on down below was overwhelming and you found yourself shaking his shoulder slightly.

“Hey, are you done? Can we go?” Reaching down, you take your bag back and stand back as he rises, the crease between his brows letting you know he’s a little confused as to why you’re suddenly rushing him. He knows full well that there’s nothing important you need to do.

Still, though, he doesn’t question it and instead nods slowly. While he goes and pays for the games he’s buying, you go to wait by the entrance. Wrapping your arms around your waist, you realise that the low ache in your back that you’d had for a day or so was one of those early symptoms you got of your period.

Only you hadn’t thought anything about it. Not when you’d spent a few hours last night stood up. You’d just thought it was because you’d done a lot of work in the yard combined with the concert. Apparently not.

You’re pretty much already walking in the direction of the drug store by the time Hoseok comes out, causing him to have to jog to catch up with you. All you can think about is whether or not walking faster or slower would make things worse.

“Woah, hey, where are we going?” Hoseok asks, matching his speed to yours. You’re just thankful that there are not too many people out shopping today because it would only increase your stress levels if there was a big queue that you had to wait in or something.

“Just, to this store.” Admittedly, you’re not being very open and honest right now. But you’re embarrassed. Hoseok is fully aware of your periods and that they’re very much a thing that happens. They’d become a little more irregular recently as you’d had a copper IUD put in around a month before moving in with him.

Nothing drastic or anything, but then again they were also sometimes longer and a little heavier than you were used to when you were on the pill. It wasn’t exactly something you enjoyed talking about with anyone though; Soyeon and Chungha were pretty open about this kind of stuff but you had always mostly stayed quiet whenever they talked about it.

Which was silly. They were women who fully understood what you were going through and Hoseok understood that it was a monthly event. So it wasn’t like he’d be shocked to find out or anything. If anything, you’d probably done a bit of a bad job in explaining some things to him as you’d always got too shy whenever he’d asked things.

That was bad, you were well aware. But you’d only really got comfortable talking about sexual things with him. You knew that there were guys who thought it was gross that women bled for a week or so. Hoseok had never made those kinds of comments, but still. You were a work in progress.

“We’ve already been in here, why are you dragging me like Jason Voorhees is running after us with a knife?” He whines when you enter the store. You’re not surprised he’s confused because he’s right, you had come in here earlier and picked up what you needed. Still, though, he follows close by.

“I thought we didn’t need anything else.” Comes from him next, his lip pouting and you get the sense that he wanted to spend more time in the game store. A rush of guilt and shame washes over you, causing you to grip his hand even tighter as you shuffle awkwardly in place for a moment.

Finally in the store though, you realise just how silly you’re being with him. It’s not like he’s going to get outraged or upset. And you’re sure he’d have been much more willing to come along if he hadn’t been dragged along half the street with no idea what was happening.

Leaning into him, you cough slightly before swallowing as you feel yourself go hot with anxiety.

“My period started.” You whisper, keeping the words quiet enough so that he can hear them without having anyone else overhear. Though the rational part of your mind knew that you shouldn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thought. It was a natural, bodily function and all that.

Your mind has never quite done things rationally though.

Hoseok has heard you though, you can tell by the way his head tilts to the side ever so slightly. But his expression is blank for a moment before his brow creases in obvious confusion, lips pursing as he contemplates what you’ve just told him.

“Okay...so why are we here?” Annnnd there it is. That famed male obliviousness to female problems. You couldn’t get annoyed at him though, not when he was good with you on everything else. He was cute.

“It’s early? And I have nothing to use. So I need to buy some.” His face changes immediately when he understands finally, mouth curving into an ‘o’ shape as he lets out a noise of recognition. It then contorts into worry for you, his eyes glancing down to your crotch area with wide eyes.

“Wait, so that means you’re...just…” He creates a rushing gesture with his hands, imitating a waterfall as he makes a ‘whoosh’ noise with his mouth. It’s a little too loud for your liking and you hiss at him, poking at his stomach before quickly pulling him over to the menstrual health aisle.

“I’ve used some toilet paper but it probably won’t last. It’s come on pretty hard and fast today. Please don’t laugh.” You beg him and his face sobers immediately, eyes darting over your own as he takes in your distressed appearance. Licking at his lips, he inhales deeply before nodding.

“Okay, you use tampons, right? So like...which ones? You never keep the box.” Automatically he starts to look over all the boxes of tampons; staring at the brands, types and absorption levels like he’s reading signs in Mandarin or something. It makes you want to laugh, despite the situation.

You appreciate his eagerness to help though, even when he points at random boxes with absolutely zero knowledge of what it was.

“What’s the difference in the brands? Is there a difference? Or is it like...when you buy those store brand biscuits and realise they taste the same as the branded biscuits only to find out that they’re made in the same factory and just relabelled?” That makes you snort with amusement, particularly as he’s now holding up a box of Tampax and a store brand to try and see the difference.

He’s not finished yet though, and even though you still feel the urgency to just grab some and run, you can’t help but let him entertain you. Because that’s what he’s doing. You’re not oblivious, you’ve realised over time that if you’re feeling anxious or uncomfortable or shy, Hoseok will often use humour to distract you away from your negativity.

It’s nice, which is why you let him carry on for a minute or so more.

“What are the drops for? And what’s the difference between regular and super? I mean, I think you’re pretty super but is this like...super big or something? Wait, is this plastic?! How does it absorb blood if it’s plastic?” Rolling your eyes at him, you bite your lip to stop the laughter that wants to escape before reaching past him to grab the box you usually buy.

Lifting it, you decide for a quick crash course in tampons. As your boyfriend, you never know when you might need him to run out to the store for some and the last thing you need is him bringing the entirely wrong type back.

“I use Tampax, purely cos it’s just the brand I’ve always used and I’m familiar with it. Super and regular are like the absorption so you’d use a super for the first few days when a period is heaviest. Hence why I’m getting these. The drops are the absorption rating too basically and it’s not plastic, that’s just the applicator that makes it easier to insert.” You say it all pretty quickly, but quietly enough that only he hears.

Not that there’s any need, the store is loud enough that your conversation can’t be overheard and on top of that, there’s no one in this aisle anyway. But Hoseok nods thoughtfully, scanning the front of the box carefully.

“When we get home, I think I need a crash course in periods because I’m feeling pretty useless and dumb right now.” Laughing, you lean up to kiss his cheek quickly before heading in the direction of the cashiers.

“We can do that for you. It’s better to be educated after all. This is where I find out that you have this bizarre knowledge that is unbelievably wrong and I cringe.” Hoseok doesn’t answer back to that, causing you to look back and chuckle at his meek shrug and wince.

“What can I say? I’ve never had a girlfriend long enough to learn and education in high school was terrible. I’m not even gonna try to defend myself.” Humming lightly, you grin at him as you pay before heading out of the store. Looking in the direction of the toilets, you twist your lips as you consider your options.

“You want to eat at that place, right?” You ask, nodding your head towards the Japanese place that was down the opposite end of the street. Hoseok looks that way and nods, confirming his desire to you. Already you can feel your stomach rumble as you imagine the delicious food.

“Okay, we’ll just go there and I’ll go straight to the restroom in there. Come on.” Reaching you, you take his hand and smile up at him, your walk not so hurried now compared to before. Not that you aren’t completely aware of the fact that you’re free bleeding from your vagina right now, but walking faster might just aggravate it more.

You had what you needed, so now you could relax a little more.

“Why are there so many steps in this? Don’t you get bored?” Hoseok mumbles, his words a little slurred due to the fact you’re rubbing serum into his cheeks. He’s already been here for ages in the bathroom as you’d used a cleanser to clean his face before exfoliating and then using toner on some cotton pads.

You could tell that he was amused by the whole situation, even though he’d seen you do this many times before. But it was different experiencing it for himself you supposed. Still, he looked so adorable and you cooed to him, squishing his cheeks even more in amusement.

“No. It’s relaxing. You’re supposed to relax.” That makes him scowl, the expression not nearly as intense as he was going for given you’ve got his lips in the cutest pout. Still, you’re finished with that part so you let him go, laughing as he runs his fingers over his skin.

“I’m not relaxed. More...manhandled.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes as you get to work rubbing the serum you need into your skin, focusing on your eyes. The dark circles beneath them were far too...well dark for your liking.

“Okay, how’s your skin lately? Dry? Oily?” Frowning at you, he twists his lips as he considers your question. He’s been taking better care of his skin than he had been before dating you, but you knew that he still didn’t care that much. Surprisingly though, he has an answer for you.

“Dry?” Nodding to yourself, you reach through your box of face masks and pull out a moisturising one. Handing it over to him, you take your own and rip it open, pulling out the mask and carefully putting it on. Hoseok watches you intently before opening up his mask, his face immediately twisting into a cringe.

“Ewwww, oh my god. Why is it so slimy?!” He whines, holding it over the sink like it’s some monster that might kill him. With the mask on your face, you can’t laugh properly like you want to.

“Stop being a baby and put it on.” With a little more whining, he does so, lining it up and putting it onto his face. What follows is then complaints that it’s also cold and feels weird, causing you to roll your eyes at him once more as you help to smooth out any creases in it.

“Right, we’ve got to keep this on for twenty minutes so let’s go watch some Netflix,” Looking over him, you take in how he still manages to look handsome even with a white sheet mask on. “It’s not fair that you always look so good. Honestly.”

Hoseok just shrugs before licking his lips, his reaction immediate as he registers the foul taste. “Oh fuck me, what the fuck. This tastes fucking vile!”

“...you’re not meant to eat it, babe, they don’t make it for the taste.” He washes his hands in the sink to get rid of the remaining residue before following you out to the couch in the living room, Netflix still paused on the large television screen. Kasumi is curled up on her cat tree, fluffy body small as she sleeps quietly.

For around ten minutes, neither of you speak as you continue to watch Warrior Nun. It’s surprisingly got both your attention hooked, so you’re a little surprised when Hoseok suddenly speaks up and distracts you.

“Hey...I know this is a weird time to talk about this but after your whole period thing today it reminded me. So, I’ve been thinking lately. You definitely don’t want kids...right?” He looks at you and you get the impression he would raise his brow if he could. When you nod in response, he blows out a breath slowly.

“Okay...how would you feel if I said I wanted to get a vasectomy? I mean, I know you’ve said you don’t want kids but there’s always a chance that you might and a vasectomy is pretty final. Despite what people say.” Now it’s your for your expression to be mostly hidden by your face mask, your eyes widening until your eyelashes are uncomfortably touching the edges of the holes.

“You want that? I thought guys normally got all weirded out at that prospect. And I don’t want kids, ever. Full stop. Are you sure?” Of all the things you were going to be discussing tonight, you did not expect it to be this. It’s almost amusing that Hoseok has decided right now is the time for something so serious, when you both look so silly.

“I do. I just...I don’t want to risk a pregnancy and I know you’re scared of that too. Also, it’d put less stress on you, I know most birth control is usually aimed at women except for condoms and it’s a lot easier for me to get a vasectomy than for you to get anything done.” That makes you snort in acknowledgement, shifting on the couch until you pull your leg up and wrap your arms around it.

“Yeah, because god forbid a woman not want to fulfil her natural duty and pop out a kid, right?”

“I’ve been looking into it, I’m pretty sure I could get one. If not, I’ll just talk the doctor’s ear off until they let me. Because it’s gonna happen. It’s way easier and less stressful than anything you have to do.” His dual concern for not wanting to cause an accidental pregnancy that neither of you wanted along with not wanting the burden to fall too heavily on you warms you, causing you to reach out and grasp his hand tightly as you squeeze at it.

“Is it easy? Or quick?”

“Apparently. Some guys say it doesn’t hurt at all, others said it hurts. But...I’m pretty sure I want it. I just wanted to check with you that you’d be okay with the idea too. As I said, it’s final.” Hoseok smiles at you as best he can, causing you to shuffle a little closer to him. You’d like to rest your head against his shoulder but you’d just get it covered in face mask gunk.

“I mean, it’s your body. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” Pointing this out to him, you look up and tilt your head, your statement almost a question.

It makes him sigh and focus on your hands, shifting them until he could interlink his fingers with your own. You let him do so, figuring he should probably be taking the lead in this conversation. It is about him after all.

“We’re in a relationship. A serious relationship and this decision would affect both of us. It’s cutting off the chance for biological kids, despite people saying you might be able to reverse it. I feel you should have a say too.” Nodding slowly, you hum lightly as you consider his words carefully.

“Well, if you want it then I’ll support you completely. I never want children so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s your decision, but I just want to make sure you think it over properly and do research, okay? Don’t go rushing into it.” That makes him snort in amusement.

“Meeps, if there’s one thing you should know by now; it’s that men do not take decisions regarding their dick and balls lightly. You can be damn sure I’m going to be 100% in my decision if I’m going to let someone come near my balls with a scalpel or somet.” The way he says this is so matter of fact that you can’t help but laugh, the sound not as big or bright as you’d like it to be given you still had your mask on.

“Man, I can’t believe I’m talking about someone knifing my balls while I’m sitting here looking like a dollar store Michael Myers.” Hoseok points at himself, his bemusement clearly obvious despite his poor Halloween costume and you giggle softly.

Reaching out, you run your fingers through his hair that’s currently being held back by a bandana and smile at him softly. “Come on, let’s go get these off and start looking human again.”

Hoseok follows you immediately, already peeling the face mask off and making casual comments about how the mask isn’t as slimy as it had once been. You take off your own and drop it into the small bin in the bathroom, making sure that he does the same.

“Okay, rub it in and pat it dry. Make sure you get the excess to go on your throat and stuff, it’s good for your skin there too.” Hoseok looks in the mirror, his face shining obscenely from the residue leftover and grimaces.

“Ew, this feels...gross,” One hand presses to his skin, rubbing it in and cringing. “Is this what it feels like when I cum on your face?”

The comment is so random that you pause for a moment, all thoughts disappearing as you comprehend what he’s just said. A glance at him makes you realise he’s being completely serious, his expression focused on rubbing his face as you’d told him. It’s moments like this that make you love him even more, the blasé comments he makes that are so funny and yet also x-rated.

“No...not really. That’s more...well it’s not all over, you know? And it’s thicker than this. And I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you. You know what your cum feels like.” A snort from him gives away his bemusement.

“Yeah, but I’ve never smeared it all over my face before.”

“Maybe you should. Experience it for yourself for once. It’s not all that good for you by the way, despite what people say. It has protein but it’s not enough to make it worthwhile or anything, so don’t think I’m going to be asking you for your special facials anytime soon.” Looking away from him, you grab the next item on your routine before looking at him with a smirk.

“Damn, there goes my plan to be self-sufficient. Could’ve made a whole organic spa thing out of it.”

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