Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.
I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.
You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.
He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.
You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.
So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.
Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-
The Wayne's.
You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.
So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.
Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-
"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"
Shit- did you figure out he's batman?
Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"
Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.
"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.
"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.
"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."
"Why?"
You shrugged. "I was bored."
"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?
"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."
Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"
"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."
"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.
He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"
"Then give me something that is."
Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?
You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."
"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."
You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."
Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."
I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.
So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.
And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)
Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.
"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"
Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.
When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.
"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.
"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.
"We had a deal-"
"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.
Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"
You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."
"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."
"What?"
He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."
Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."
Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."
Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-
Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.
"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."
girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)
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𝙗𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙨𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 | c.bg
synopsis: wanting to try a new sexual route with your boyfriend but not knowing how to approach the situation drives you to beomgyu—your best friend since the dawn of time, under the rule of what you call a buddy system.
warnings: sub!gyu, dumbification, basically infidelity but they don’t really fuck, butt plug
tags 🏷️ @b3omitus @beomiracles @bambammtori @jakeslvt @subby-men-forever @iijustread @strwbrryjaem @rikiwaify-blog @yyeonzi @skz-smut-reader @kyuuuie @fairfootedflekk @badwicht @handsomejin25 @itaehynz @soobabby
No matter what angle you look at it, it’s weird. You wouldn’t even think of asking for a favor so indecent if it wasn’t—well if it wasn’t him. And maybe that’s the blaring problem.
“What’ya thinking ‘bout?” Beomgyu muffles, mouth stuffed. You quirk your lip, kicking him under the table. "Don't talk with food in your mouth idiot."
He immediately shuts his mouth, but doesn't miss the chance to retaliate and return the kick, only he aims poorly and hits the table leg instead.
You snort, suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. It takes you right back to when your biggest problem was hiding a bad report card from your then-overbearing parents and trying to find knock-off drug store products to cover your gross pimples.
A simpler time when all you saw was your best friend across from you, wedged into the booth at Shake N Shack, stuffing his mouth with fries, sauce on the edge of his lips as he rants about some latest absurd conspiracy theory he had stumbled upon online.
“So?” he pulls you out of your reverie, looking up at you once he’s finished chewing. His eyes dart nervously between you and his plate as he swallows the last bite when you keep silent. “Why’re you really here? You haven’t been around much lately.”
You scoff, crossing your arms defensively. "I can't just visit you for old times' sake?"
He exaggeratedly winces. "Damn, already demoted to a nostalgia trip?”
You sigh, feeling a pang of guilt despite the lightheartedness in his tone.
You know Beomgyu— like the back of your hand, like the way your favorite song plays in your mind, you know how he hurts and how he likes to cover it up. Ever since you started dating Youngjae, you’ve completely abandoned him, and so his words hit harder than they should.
“You know what I mean,” you mumble weakly.
“Do I?” he replies, tilting his head. “Last I checked, people don’t usually show up at someone’s door at ten-thirty PM during a thunderstorm just to reminisce for “old times sake”. Are you here to drop some kind of plot twist on me? Did you kill someone? Is this an alibi visit?”
You let out a frustrated groan—leave it to Beomgyu to be as annoying as humanely possible as you try to get him to forgive you for your sins. "No, I didn't kill anyone. I just…I’ve been caught up with y'know like...everything and-”
You pause, glancing at your feet as you try to find the right words, the ones that make this moment make sense. You’d gone over this moment in your head a thousand times, but now, in front of him, it all seems so much harder to say.
“And?” he prompts.
“And in the middle of all the stupid exams and projects, I had this epiphany. Like, holy crap, when was the last time I actually saw my best friend? The one person who gets all my dumb jokes, who knows all my weird habits, and somehow still puts up with me.”
His face visibily softens and he nods slowly, picking at the crumbs on his plate. "Epiphany took a long ass time.”
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Without thinking, you stand up from your seat and walk over to him. He looks up just in time for you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. It only takes him a moment before he completely melts into the embrace, his arms circling your waist. “I missed you, you dork,” you whisper into his hair.
He leans into you, seemingly satisfied. “That’s all I get?” he mumbles, his voice muffled against your shoulder, but there’s no mistaking the smile in his words. “A quick hug after you’ve been ignoring your best friend for, like, forever?”
“You’ll get a little present later, besides you love me too much to stay mad.”
He nestles his head against you, his grip around your waist tightening just a bit. “Yeah, I really do.” he murmurs.
The Buddy System.
You don’t know if that rollercoaster is any good? The Buddy System. Beomgyu can go on it and tell you if he thinks it’s possible for you to ride without throwing up right after. Beomgyu’s feeling squeamish over that plate of food? The Buddy System— you’ll try it out for him and accurately determine whether it’s gyu-gestable or …not. Years of practice has had you know exactly what his picky habits can allow him to consume.
Those are the more normal instances you’ve used it, there were other peculiar times like when Beomgyu asked you to test out the temperature of his bathwater—with your elbow, like you were checking a baby’s bath. He stood there, fully clothed, watching you as you leaned over the tub, dipping your elbow into the water with the seriousness of a professional thermometer. “Too hot,” you’d say, adjusting the faucet until he gave a nod of approval.
Actually, now that you’re really going over every instance you’ve used it, you think all of the weird ones were Beomgyu’s doing.
Like the time when it was the summer of senior year, the last summer before you went off to college, Beomgyu had recurring nightmares and was convinced that if you fell asleep holding his hand, you’d somehow end up in his dream and could “fix it” from the inside. You tried to explain that dreams didn’t work that way, but he wouldn’t budge. So, there you were, two grown teenagers, lying in a dark room, hands clasped like some kind of paranormal experiment. It didn’t work, of course, but Beomgyu insisted he slept better knowing you were “on the job.”
So therefore…asking this of him would just…even it out, right? Right?
Beomgyu sits up abruptly, causing the carefully arranged pillows to collapse around him, and a few stuffed animals to topple over onto his lap. His eyes are wide, and his voice cracks as he practically yelps, "What?"
Holy shit, who are you kidding.
“This was the little present?”
You shift uncomfortably in the small, now even more cramped space, suddenly wishing you could burrow into the pile of blankets and disappear. “It’s weird, I know, like really weird and it’s okay if you don’t want to. I just thought—”
You take a deep breath. “I just—I want to try it with him and—I don’t know, maybe it won’t feel good and-"
“You thought I’d be the one to—” he waves the box around, his voice higher than usual, “—to test this out for you?”
“I mean, buddy system, right?” you offer weakly, your confidence crumbling completely. “We’ve done other things for each other… not like this, but…” your voice trails off as you fidget with the edge of the blanket beneath you.
Beomgyu just blinks at you. And in the long, awkward silence that follows you realize how absurd your request sounds. Hey, can you try out this butt plug for me because my faith in this relationship with my boyfriend is so fragile I’m afraid I might ruin it completely by doing the normal thing of suggesting and exploring different ways of pleasuring each other? Don’t forget that it’s a butt plug! I’m asking you to insert something up in your ass. Up your ass.
The fairy lights cast soft shadows on his face—he’s staring at you, but you’re too caught up in your embarrassment to notice the way his gaze lingers just a little too long, or how eventually, his expression softens.
Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “Does he know you’re here?”
You freeze, caught off guard. “Who?”
“Your boyfriend,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Does he know you’re here? With me?”
“Uh, no… he doesn’t,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably again. “I mean, it’s late, and I just wanted to see you. It’s not a big deal, right?”
Beomgyu swallows hard, his gaze dropping to the stuffed bear in his lap, which seems to be staring back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Yeah… right. No big deal.”
The silence stretches on, thick and awkward, until finally, he lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Okay,” he resigns. “This is, hands down, the weirdest thing you’ve ever asked me to do, but… yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”
You blink again, not expecting him to actually agree. “Wait, seriously?” A huge smile breaks across your face as you lean forward, your excitement palpable. “I can’t believe you’re actually saying yes! Oh my god, Gyu, thank you! I thought for sure you were going to think I was crazy and—”
But then, almost as quickly as your excitement flared up, it dims slightly, and you glance at him with a more serious expression. The guilt’s creeping up. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? It’s been a while since we’ve hung out and I mean, I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you or anything—”
"Are you holding a gun to my head?”
“No, but-"
“Then I’m fine,” he says, though his voice softens as he adds, “Seriously, it’s okay. I’ll do it. Who cares.”
You pout looking at your best friend because for the millionth time in your life, you feel that familiar warmth in your chest at the reassurance that no matter what, Beomgyu’s always there to back you up.
“You’re the best, Gyu. You don’t even know it yet, but you’ll probably be responsible for our wedding,” you say, sighing dreamily, “I’ll make sure to shout you out.”
Suddenly, his expression changes. He frowns deeply, and before you can process it, he grabs the nearest plushie—a soft, squishy bear—and hurls it at you with a grumble. “Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Your mouth falls open at the bear hitting you square in the chest. The audacity! But before you can even think about launching a counterattack, Beomgyu is already on the move.
In one swift motion, he snatches up the pink box, waving it above his head like a white flag of retreat, quickly scrambling out of the fort, the pillows and blankets collapsing behind him in his rush to escape.
You take back everything nice you’ve thought of him thirty seconds ago.
Beomgyu’s cheeks are a bit pink when he comes back twenty minutes later, and you notice it when you look up from your phone, where you’ve been meticulously studying the app’s settings. He looks uncharacteristically bashful, avoiding your gaze as he settles back in with you— the fort looking almost as good as it did before Beomgyu nuked it and ran away.
“Did you put it in?” you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.
He glances at you briefly before quickly looking away, the blush on his cheeks deepening. "Yup. Lubed it up pretty well."
You raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "Did you really, or are you fucking with me?"
Beomgyu's response is immediate, and a little too defensive. "Do you want me to show you my asshole or something? I have it in!"
"God, okay!" you say in exasperation, throwing your hands up in mock surrender.
Your mood takes a complete flip as you grin wickedly, wiggling your phone, the app open and ready. "So... ready for the fun part?"
His eyes widen slightly, and you catch the way his breath hitches as he realizes what you mean. His cheeks flush even more as he swallows hard. "Wait, you're not actually gonna…”
There isn’t any incentive for him to lie but you still don’t fully believe him. You’ve heard that first times have guys struggling a little, he’d be a lot more fidgety than he is now. You narrow your eyes as you glance from your phone to his face, experimentally turning up the setting to its highest volume, just to see if he's really telling the truth.
The reaction is immediate. Beomgyu's eyes widen in shock, and blood rushes to his cheeks, turning him a deep shade of red. His whole body tenses as he grips the blanket beneath him, his breath hitching.
"Hey! Turn it down! It—it-fuck!" he stammers, his voice strained and breathy as he squirms in place.
You quickly dial back the intensity, watching as he takes a few deep breaths, trying to recover. You didn't mean to push him that far, but now there's no doubt in your mind that he wasn't lying. He really did go through with it.
"I didn't think it'd be that intense," you say, genuinely concerned. "Are you okay?"
He hangs his head low, nodding.
You can't help but giggle at his reaction, though you feel a little guilty for pushing him so hard. "Sorry, I just had to make sure."
He gives you a look that's somewhere between a pout and a glare, still clearly embarrassed. "Well, now you know. It's definitely in, and it's definitely working."
You ruffle his head. "Alright, I won't push it any further. Just let me know when it's too much, okay?"
Beomgyu groans, his voice dropping a little, betraying a note of something more than just embarrassment. "Why do I let you talk me into these things?" he mumbles, mostly to himself.
You ignore him, grinning as you observe him, slowly turning up the vibrations to a slow, steady hum. “Notes? How does it feel?”
Beomgyu stiffens, his eyes widening as the first wave of vibrations hits him. "Oh... my god," he squeaks, his voice shaky and a bit breathless. "This is... this is so weird."
You narrow your eyes. “Bad weird or good weird?”
He looks at you, his bottom lip jutted out into a pout, as if he’s not quite sure how to articulate what he’s feeling. “It’s just… weird, okay? Full. Like, not bad but… not normal either. It’s… it’s like—ugh, why are you making me explain this?”
You fold your arms, deciding to push him a little more to get the information that you actually want. “Is it, like, ‘I can get used to this’ weird, or ‘please stop this right now’ weird?”
Beomgyu huffs, clearly flustered. “I don’t know! It’s… kind of both? Like… it’s weird, but maybe kind of good? I don’t know!” He’s squirming now, obviously uncomfortable but not entirely hating it either.
“So…you’re saying you’re into it?” you tease, leaning in closer with a mischievous grin, wiggling your brows playfully.
The words slip out before you can fully think them through, the playful energy between you both making it easy to forget the boundaries that normally exist. Especially considering that you have a boyfriend of seven months waiting at home.
You’re too far gone to care.
His eyes widen even more, his blush deepening as he quickly shakes his head, shuffling away from you a bit. “N-no! I mean… not like that, I just—” His voice trails off, and he swallows hard, clearly struggling to find the right words.
You bite your lip, gradually increasing the intensity, curious. His expression tightens, and a soft, involuntary moan escapes his lips before he can stop it.
"Okay, okay, that's... that's enough!" he says, his voice a mix of panic and something more, his breathing coming out in quick, uneven gasps as he clearly tries to hold himself together.
Interesting.
A slow smirk spreads across your face, “Just a little more,” you coax. “You’re doing great.”
“Fuck, stop teasing me!” he whines, but his voice is breathier now, and there's a definite edge of something more in the way he looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated.
You watch him, the way he tries to keep his mouth in a thin line, a façade that crumbles the moment you notice the way his left leg shakes— you’re intrigued. You've never seen him like this—so vulnerable, so out of control—and it's both unsettling and fascinating. If there’s a possibility this is exactly how your boyfriend would act with something up his ass, you’d spend hundreds on a collection.
You clear your throat, realizing its been silent for too long. “So?”
He’s fast to catch on. “I—I don’t hate it. I think it’s hitting my prost—holy shit, d-did you just turn it up again?”
You hesitate, your gaze shifting away from his. “No…” you mumble, the lie unconvincing even to your own ears. The accusatory stare he gives you is impossible to ignore, burning through your feigned innocence.
Eventually, you give in, sighing in defeat. “Alright, only to a different rhythm. Is it worse? Should I—”
You pause abruptly when you see his reaction. Beomgyu’s eyes tightly screw shut, his jaw clenching and for a moment, you worry that you’ve pushed too far, that this time you’ve actually overstepped. But then he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
“If it was worse, you would be pure evil but uh—no, no, it’s okay. It’s… better.”
You can’t let the genuine relief washing over you run its full course because you feel a spark of something more exciting running down your spine. You gulp— the hot, stuffiness of the fort becomes increasingly unbearable by the minute. “Better?”
He nods, though his movements are slow, deliberate, like he's testing the waters before fully committing to his answer. "Yeah... better," he repeats, his voice more certain this time. His eyes flutter open, and a cute, determined face replaces the more bashful Beomgyu you were getting pretty comfortable playing with.
For the second time tonight, an awkward silence overtakes you both and he leans back against the pillows, fiddling nervously with the drawstrings of his hoodie, his fingers picking at the fabric as if trying to find some distraction.
The silence stretches on until suddenly, Beomgyu moves. Without warning, he starts to pull at the hem of his hoodie, yanking it up and over his head in one swift motion.
“Whoa, whoa, what’re you doing?” you blurt out as you watch him toss his hoodie to the side, leaving him in just a thin undershirt. You’re completely caught off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, the sight of his flushed skin and tousled hair making your heart, for the first time, race.
For …Beomgyu.
He looks back at you, sheepish. “It’s hot,” he says simply.
You blink, still processing. “Yeah, but…” you trail off, realizing you don’t really have an argument. The air’s pretty darn thick and stifling.
“Okay, fair enough,” you say finally, trying to play it off with a casual shrug. “I mean, it is pretty warm in here.”
“…Right.”
You’re acting weird. Even Beomgyu’s noticing. You’re losing the upper hand.
“Uh, th-there’s another setting,” you stammer, quickly looking down at your phone in your hand, avoiding his gaze. “Wanna try it out? To see which one feels better.”
He hums in approval, his response casual, almost nonchalant, like he's confident nothing can catch him off guard.
But that confidence doesn’t last long.
The second you make the switch, his body jolts, a gasp slipping out before he can stop it. “How…how is it?” you ask anyway.
Beomgyu’s response is more of a whimper than anything else, his lips parting as he struggles to form coherent words. “It’s…oh god…it’s—" His voice catches in his throat, and it happens again. Loud and unrestrained. This time, it’s unmistakable.
Beomgyu's eyes widen in horror as the sound leaves his lips, his hand flying up to clap over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle any more noises. His cheeks flush a deep, burning red, and you can see the sheer embarrassment etched into his expression as he tries to hide his face, mortified by his own reaction.
You didn’t plan this. Not at all. But you cannot for the life of you even get yourself to feel an ounce of guilt for the way your underwear uncomfortably sticks to your heat.
Your gaze drops lower, and there it is-the clear strain in his pants, “Uh…Gyu…?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flicker back up to his face.
Your mind is spinning, caught between disbelief and the sudden rush of arousal that floods right to your lower abdomen.
Beomgyu doesn't respond immediately. He's too busy fighting his own body, his breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps as he tries to regain some semblance of control. His hand remains firmly over his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut as if he's trying to will himself to disappear, to erase the moment that just happened.
It's overly dramatic, of course-classic Beomgyu, always a tinge extra when he's overwhelmed. But instead of finding it annoying like you might have at any other time, it strikes you as incredibly…endearing.
The way his reactions are so genuine, so unguarded, makes him seem almost innocent in a way that tugs at your heart. He looks like a confused, flustered puppy than anything else.
The way he's covering his mouth, is almost comical in its futility-especially when another small, muffled whimper slips past his fingers. “Beomgyu,” you call out, your voice soft but insistent. “I need you to look at me.”
"I-I can't—" he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he tries to form coherent thoughts. "This is... it's t-too much..."
You tilt your head, “Do you want me to turn it off?”
“No! Just... I don't know..." he breathes out, his voice strained, as if he's not entirely sure what he's asking for. “Please.”
Something stirs within you, and before you know it, you’re moving closer to him, reaching out your hand to rest on his arm—you think it’d help comfort him. But he only takes that opportunity to bury his head in your neck a few seconds later.
Your heart pounds in your chest but you try to not give it any more attention. You’re supposed to be here for your friend.
“You’re doing so well, Beom,” you whisper, your voice steady and reassuring as you gently rub his arm. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s just us here—you can let go. It’s just me.”
A soft, almost cute whimper escapes him as he nods against you, his breath warm against your skin.
Beomgyu's eyes flutter shut, and you can tell your words are having an effect on him, his resolve crumbling with each passing second, the twitch in his pants making it clear he’s barely holding on. “It’s okay,” you reassure.
Maybe it’s not. But you technically weren’t doing anything physical—it’s not wrong on your behalf, right? But as you rub your thighs subtly, trying to relieve something, that guilt is just as incessant.
You watch the way Beomgyu’s hand moves—hesitantly at first, as if he's not sure what he's doing or if he should even be doing it. But then he turns his head up to look at you, and you’re once again, caught off guard. His eyes look like they’re searching for something, focus shifting from one place to another. And you’re left feeling like you’re under a microscope, until it seems like he found what he’s looking for because his fingers finally brush against the waistband of his pants.
“Are you—are you sure this is okay?” he asks softly. And you nod. Almost too fast.
Maybe you should close your eyes. If not for the respect of the relationship that you’ve completely forgotten of once you had Beomgyu in your arms, at least for your best friend’s pride.
Actually, you don’t think he minds. If the strangled groan that comes out his pretty lips were anything to go by. He fumbles for his hard, aching cock, flinging it out and stroking it furiously almost the second he gets his hands on it and your eyes only manage to widen at the sight.
For lack of better words, you gawk.
“It’s not disappointing or anything, huh?” he tries to joke, but his breaths too strung out, too gone for even that.
Your mouth dries. Far from it.
This is the one time your boyfriend comes to mind in a while, and its not favorable. Beomgyu’s not bigger—he’s not small either, but that’s not your focus—rather the pearly bead that bubbles atop of the tiny slit, the head a deep pink, the way its veins pulses as his pace falters at your silence. That small bead of fluid oozing down his shaft, tracing the lines of the delicate veins. The curves, every little detail. He’s perfect. More perfect than you’ve ever seen.
It seems you took way too long for Beomgyu’s liking and self confidence so he looks elsewhere, “Is…it?”
You blink, almost forgetting your predicament, lost in your admiration of him. "No, no, of course not. It's—it's pretty," you reply, your words tumbling out in a rush as you try to reassure him.
But instead of calming him, your words have the opposite effect. His shoulders shake, and suddenly, he's burying himself back into your shoulder, his hand completely abandoning his cock. "H-hahh-" he pants, his breath hitching as he begins to hiccup, overwhelmed by his emotions.
“Are you—are you crying?”
“You just called my dick pretty,” he seems to sob a bit more at that, soaking your shirt, feeling the dampness spreading across your chest. “You hate it. It looks bad.”
You're at a loss for words, completely thrown by his reaction. You struggle to pry him off you, your hands gently but firmly gripping his shoulders as you try to pull back just enough to look him in the face. "What?! No!" you exclaim, your voice rising with urgency. "Pretty means pretty. Fuck, don't cry, it's perfect, Beomgyu. It looks perfect, I swear."
His hiccups slow as your words sink in, and you can see the tension in his shoulders begin to ease. He sniffles softly, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand, his breathing gradually becoming steadier. As the emotional intensity lessens gradually, you with no control of your own, redirect your attention to his poor cock. It’s rock hard. He looks like he needs some soothing so you think to do the sensible thing. The…right thing?
Beomgyu lets out a small, shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood despite everything that's just happened. "Man... I think this plug’s really messed with my vulnerability or something," he jokes weakly, his voice still wavering as he tries to regain his composure. “Had me crying pretty fas—"
His rant pauses at a hilt. He meets your gaze as you fully wrap your hand around his shaft after he just witnessed you quickly spit on your palm.
He doesn’t question it. At all. In fact, the moment your hand’s on him, there’s no hesitation in the way he spreads his legs wider, his pants responsively moving down to pool around his ankles.
A soft, whiny sound escapes him, and he leans into your touch, his eyes drooping, face contorting cutely. “O-oh…I…I..”
“Shhh, I got you pretty,” you whisper. His cock’s soft to the touch, and wet. When you glide your hand up and down, even slowly, it makes an unpleasantly wet, dirty sound.
He’s very reactive to the endearing nickname that feels almost too natural slipping out of your lips of all people. “P-pretty..” he repeats, sighing, almost dazedly. A complete goner.
You squeeze him and he lets out another needy, low moan and wraps his arms around your waist. Your heart pounds at how clingy he is, it feels like it’s about to burst. "Ahhh...f-fuck…” He moans against your neck, a highly pitched sound only a woman could make, feeling a trail of saliva traveling down from the corner of his mouth.
You almost cum untouched at the sight of him, at the pretty, almost perfectly described as heavenly sinful sounds he’s making. A sheen of sweat has formed on his forehead, his hair damp at the edges, and it somehow makes him look better.
His body tenses beneath your touch, you can feel the warmth of his skin, the sweat slicking his brow, and the way his breath catches in his throat. Then, suddenly, he lets out a choked cry, his voice breaking as he bucks his hips just slightly. The movement is involuntary, desperate, as if his body is moving on its own, seeking out the final bit of friction it needs.
And then it happens.
Beomgyu gasps sharply, his body going rigid as he reaches his peak. He shudders violently, his chest heaving as he shoots strings of his load, the warm, sticky fluid spilling out. You react quickly, instinctively guiding the release towards him, watching as it lands all over his tummy and a bit on his chest.
You're struck by how quickly it happened—how you'd only had him in your hand for a few seconds before he came. His chest heaves, his breathing ragged and uneven as he slowly comes down from the high.
For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of his breathing, the soft rise and fall of his chest as he tries to steady himself.
Finally, he looks down at the mess on his stomach and chest, a soft, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
And for whatever reason, that has an effect on you. He looks so endearing in this moment—his lips slightly parted, his lashes brushing against his flushed skin, his hair perfectly tousled and falling over his eyes—
You're completely lost in the sight of him, practically mesmerized by how perfect he looks and your mind starts to drift until suddenly his voice breaks through your thoughts.
"Did you hear me?" he asks. "Doofus, turn it off. It's starting to make my asshole sore."
Your romantic daze shatters like glass.
Blinking rapidly, your face transforms into a shocked scowl, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. "Wait, what?" you stammer.
Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at you, clearly expecting a response. But as the moment stretches on, your brain lags behind as you try to process what he just said.
Then it clicks.
"Oh, right!" you gasp, fumbling with your phone as you quickly find the app and turn off the plug, mortification creeping up your spine. What an absolute bust.
a/n: well well well. in the first draft he was made to eat his own cum but i felt maybe this fic wasnt the one for that😊😊 Unfortunately for some, fortunate for others🤔 anyway tell me how u enjoyed beomgyu getting his ass stimulated in a poorly made fort lol
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NATIONAL TREASURE (2004) PROMPTS
* assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
i'm gonna steal it.
who wants to go down the creepy tunnel inside the tomb first?
if it's any consolation, you had me convinced.
you're not hurt, are you?
i am so getting fired for this.
is there a question in there?
we have no money.
how about a bribe?
it was cool. you should try it sometime.
we can't go back there.
i've never been so happy to be proven wrong.
you handled that well.
are you trying to steal that?
it's thirty-five dollars.
you know the key to running a convincing bluff? every once in a while you've got to be holding all the cards.
stop talking. start the van.
you're treasure hunters, aren't you?
i'm still working on it.
why don't you just come back down here and we can talk through this together.
don't speak again.
is that the hot girl?
are you with me?
what do you think? i'm a hostage.
do you trust me?
once we catch them, what do we do?
is this real?
i made something for you.
tell me what i need to know.
just another clue.
i can explain, but i don't have time.
i wasted 20 years of my life, and now you've destroyed yours.
what was the secret?
i found something!
i broke a shoelace this morning.
it can't be done.
i understand your bitterness. i really do.
i want you to have a chance to do that.
i've got some duct tape in the back.
promise you won't be any trouble.
i finally figured it out.
the treasure is a myth.
we need more juice.
you're all lunatics!
still a little on edge from being shot at, but i'll be okay. thanks for asking.
see? okay? now could you please stop shouting?
give me that!
you would do well, [name], to be a little more civilized in this instance.
who were those men?
we did the only thing we could do to keep it safe.
we probably deserved that.
i was thinking, what if we go public? plaster the story all over the internet.
it's not like we have our reputations to worry about.
people don't talk that way anymore.
beautiful, huh?
i have no idea what you said.
if there's something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action.
what do you see?
what time is it now?
we missed it.
i know something about history that you don't.
i'd be very excited to learn about it.
hold on one second. let me just take in this moment.
this is cool. is this how you feel all the time?
[name], you're a genius.
how do a bunch of guys with hand tools build all this?
the aliens helped them.
i volunteered.
it's invisible.
i'm sorry for your suffering.
when are we gonna get there?
i'm hungry. this car smells weird.
i'm so sorry i dropped you.
i would have done exactly the same to you.
why can't they just say "go to this place, here's the treasure, spend it wisely?"
anyone crazy enough to believe us isn't gonna want to help.
we don't need someone crazy.
[name], are you crying?
look. stairs.
i'm guessing that's significant.
i'm just trying to hide from my ex-husband.
stay as long as you like.
you want something?
i see what you left him.
this isn't a day for "um."
we didn't find the information credible.
well, this might be possible.
i leveled with you one hundred percent.
everything i told you was the truth.
it's not a conspiracy theory.
you know what? i take it back.
i'm in a little trouble.
this... is huge.
you are gonna go to prison. you know that, right?
that would bother most people.
you know what you have to do.
i'm just trying to think if there's anything else we could do.
i'm not letting it out of my sight.
how do you look?
a toast to high treason.
here's to the men who did what was considered wrong in order to do what they knew was right.
why do you need them?
look... this is a waste of time.
i'm still not against you.
i really couldn't accept something like this normally.
we don't actually have it.
did bigfoot take it?
is there a door that doesn't lead to prison?
get out of there. get out of there now!
[name], can you hear me?
can i marry your brain?
our evil plan is working.
why does that never happen to me?
meet me at the car. call me if you have any problems.
no broken bones?
a jump like that could kill a man.
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