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thong-in-the-twist · 5 years

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Coming after courting

//Gong Yoo x you ❤️

Word count: 4,400

Hi, guys! So many of you loved (and enjoyed) my Courting - and I finally came through and I am coming to you with my humble offering. It’s a sequel, which is basically there so I can relieve my horniness. Also I am indulging my kink, so yeah.

Warnings: size kink, cock ring, body worship(?)

***

It’s not like you didn’t realize it. Of course you did. One would have been really blind not to see the striking difference in sizes. Jicheol is big. You are not. He is big in every aspect you can think of. He is tall, his shoulders are broad, his thighs are muscled, his fingers are long, his girth is substantial.

You are nowhere near his measurements. And it’s not a problem, you’ve never seen it as such. Of course, kissing him can be a challenge whether you are wearing heels or not. In heels you can easily yank him down with a hand on his nape and it’s sort of comfortable for both of you. If he keeps his massive hands on your jaw and holds your face up, cradling your head – you are good. You don’t even have to use much of your strength, he is cushioning any strain you might feel. Without heels, now that’s a real challenge. It usually involves some kind of acrobatics either from you or from Jicheol. But most often from you. Jicheol goes as far as bend slightly to you – but he is easily annoyed. Then he picks you up, slams you against a wall or puts you on higher flat surface. Your ass has already came in contact with every flat surface in your flat and his condo, nothing in his office was spared either. You also learned to climb on things to be able to kiss him. Standing on stack of books that don’t fit onto your bookcase, jumping onto stack of wastepaper ready to be recycled, climbing on the shoe rack in your hallway, rocking on the sofa, balancing on the open drawer you were using to get to your favorite mug (after that one incident he bought you a step stool designed for children as a joke – you told him to shove it because you are too dignified for it and ended up using it anyway because everything in his condo is way too high).

The thing is you are not that small. You believe to be a normal size, but next to this giant – you feel way smaller than you are.

And the thing is you like it very much.

It didn’t come to you easily. It was a slow but very informing process. You might have missed signs in the beginning, but as of right now, you are sure – you like it very much. You like it when you are working and you are tapping away on your laptop, maybe with earphones in, and you suddenly see a shadow on your keyboard and heavy presence behind you. You love it when he comes closer, so your desk is in his shadow and you turn around to face him and he is standing so close that you have to bare your neck to be able to look at his face.

You like it when you are walking down the empty corridor but you can hear office being alive, coffee machine working in the kitchen, people talking, photocopier printing, and suddenly he is there with you, and he pushes you against the wall and although you can hear it, you can’t see anything except Jicheol, his body covering yours completely. You like it when he steers you out of danger when you walk together outside, his big hand splaying on your side, middle finger nearly reaching your navel while his thumb barely misses your spine.

His sheer size is what keeps you on your toes, literally and not.

You stretch, your vertebras snapping back in place and you risk a glance behind you. You are subtle, you know you are, but Jicheol’s assistant is as good as they come, immediately sensing your eyes on her and she looks up – just as you casually slide your eyes on the cubicles closer to you. At this point you are sure she knows. She is that good. But you are not official by any means and you suspect she doesn’t think highly of you, probably believing that you are sleeping with her boss for profit.

And, well. Sleeping with him is a profit in its own right.

You hoped you’d be able to sneak into his office, but you know better not to try when she is guarding the doors. You hope that one day you’ll be able to best her in her own game, but it’s definitely not today.

So you turn back to your computer, feeling how her eyes are burning a hole in the back of your head.

You manage to keep it up for another 40 minutes before you try to look around again – and yes, nothing changed. Assistant’s head snaps right when you glance at her. She must have some kind of third eye that is always open and always looking at you.

Another half an hour or so, and you really can’t stand how slow this day is going. It Wednesday, still too many days till weekend, and still too much time before your day ends and you wish for a quick break. You stop working for a second, wondering if you should try looking back once more, when you see, out of the corner of your eye, the assistant walking down the aisle. You have no doubt that she is eyeing you warningly, but your adrenaline levels are spiking.

And here you were believing that she doesn’t pee at all.

Sure enough, she disappears in the toilet, and you are out of your seat is seconds. You walk to Jicheol’s office as if you had business in going to him, and while it’s true, the nature of this business is not something you’d like to share with your overseeing manager.

Feeling like a kid stealing freshly baked cookies, you knock on the doors and go in: only to find out that the office is empty. As it should be, Jicheol was supposed to be out of office today. Which you totally forgot about.

Your mood is killed, but you did come with a purpose, so you walk over to his chair, sit down in it, pose just like you wanted to do in front of him, snap a picture and you are out of his office before his assistant comes back.

You send the photo only when you sit back down at your desk.

Jicheol seems frustrated and amused as he holds his phone in front of your face. You are not entirely sure what seems to be a problem as you stare at the photo you’ve sent him.

“Care to explain this?”, he asks as if you owed him an explanation. Which is odd, because the picture itself should be self explanatory. It’s not like it’s a nude or anything like that. It’s you, sitting in his chair, no biggie. He must have seen your lack of understanding on your face because he follows: “I got it while I was discussing a new deal with AS Group.”

Well, that certainly clarifies the problem.

“I mean, it’s me? In your chair?”, you say, doing your best to keep your face straight.

“Well, yeah, but what are you doing?”, he is not going to let it go. You can see that and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He goes as far as pointing at the offending part of the picture.

“Oh! You mean the part where I am biting the cock ring you so nicely presented me with?”, you still keep up the pretense of not really realizing what the problem is. “And why were you checking your phone while discussing a new deal with AS Group? You should know better than to do that.”

That gives him a pause and he brings his phone back, looking at the picture. You smile as you watch his eyes darken a little. He clears his throat and puts his phone down, just when your food arrives.

“You know what? You are right, actually,” he says, looking at his plate and grabbing fork and knife, voice perfectly conversational. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have checked the phone during the meeting.”

“Good boy,” the praise makes him snap his eyes back at you. It takes a few heartbeats before he laughs, loud and free. His left eye closes a millisecond earlier than the other one and as always it puts you at ease. It’s just so familiar. There is a slight disbelief in his features, the air of incredulity about him when he shakes his head but when he focuses back on you? The warmth and the love you see in his eyes match your own feelings. He slides his hand across the table, resting it on your own. You look down, seeing how it completely covers your smaller hand, how his long fingers reach below your wrist and there is a prickling sensation at the back of your head.

You love him this big.

You look at him when he drives you home. It’s Wednesday night, a school night, so to speak, you have to wake up early tomorrow and go to work, and so does Jicheol. There is something lazy about the way he drives. He looks relaxed, with one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift. The silence that took over the car is comfortable and you are using all your senses to feast on him.

His shoulders are broad. Half of it is just bone structure but the rounded shape of his muscles that curve smoothly into the biceps – that’s what gets to you. The veins near his wrists that get your attention when he changes gears are also something to enjoy. You feel no shame in appreciating his chest moving with every breath, his legs shifting when he presses pedals.

There is no shame in appreciating what’s basically yours.

And there is definitely no shame in getting turned on by this.

Somewhere along the way Jicheol turns his head to you. He never has any qualms about you ogling him so intensively. He usually notices you staring and smiles. It’s a small, secretive smile, one that shows you that he knows how much you love his body and that he has nothing against it – because he knows you love the rest of him as well.

Because you do.

Nearly as much as you love his massive hands.

But this time, when he lazily turns his head to you, there is something he sees in your face that stops him. That makes it harder for him to focus back on the road. You can see how his fingers clench on the wheel, how he shifts and how he clears his throat.

You don’t have to look at his lap to know what is happening. You instantly get hot as if he turned off air conditioning. He didn’t but it still seems like all the oxygen has disappeared from the car. You uncross your legs, feeling how damp the fabrics of your jeans is. You say nothing not to distract Jicheol, trying and failing to breathe evenly.

Above the slowly raising volume of thumping blood in your ears you can hear how Jicheol starts tapping his fingers on the wheel. Where the fuck is your building?

A quiet thank god when you finally see it that falls from Jicheol’s mouth makes you laugh. It’s a wild laugh, a laugh of a person that’s losing it. Especially when the gods are not helping you in your quest and Jicheol needs to drive around to find an empty spot to park.

“You really need to get yourself a place with assigned parking,” he says in even voice. That’s what gives him away – his even, controlled voice appears only when he is about to lose control.

You hum agreeably through a lump in your throat. It’s hard to keep your calm and your leg is shaking impatiently. When you see another car leaving, freeing a space for you to take, you nearly yell to get Jicheol’s attention. He swerves into it, little care for safety and you don’t even wait for him to straighten the wheels. You are out of the car as soon as he is in the parking spot.

He follows you, leaving his perfectionist nature impulse to straighten the wheels for another time. It’s not the place nor time to focus on such small things, when there are bigger matters at hand.

You are already halfway to your building when he catches up with you. You know that if he wanted he could have done it earlier but he was probably ogling your ass. Not that you mind.

He grabs your hand, your fingers entwining, his fingertips reaching your wrist. Again. It sends another hot wave through your body and you pick up your pace, dragging him behind you. You don’t check but you are fairly sure he is smiling.

Elevator ride is mercifully short albeit quite stinky. It’s an enclosed space and had it be a different building you would have already jumped Jicheol. But it’s not, and you are not touching him here – where there is a possibility that in the spur of a moment he will push you against one of those disgusting walls. No matter how much you want to go down on him, you are definitely not down for that.

You ready your keys and slip an essential into your back pocket before you get out of the elevator and you cross the last stretch of your race to your apartment. Jicheol is right behind you, breathing down your neck when you unlock the doors. The heat radiating from his body only distracts you, your palms immediately getting sweaty.

Finally you stumble in, toeing your shoes off in the process. Even Jicheol pays no mind to his own shoes as he kicks them off. And then he spins you around and kisses you before you can get your bearings.

And then you don’t even try.

He sighs. You both have been waiting and wanting to do that for so long (most of the day) and it can be felt. You can feel it in your gut, you can feel it in your suddenly relaxing muscles. You can feel it in his hands holding your face up, in his thumb caressing your throat, in his tongue just filthy in your mouth. He can’t be comfortable. He must be bending low to reach your mouth and you surge up onto your toes, your teeth clashing in the process. But neither of you minds.

You pull his collar shirt out of his pants and push your hands under, you feel his skin under your fingers as you slide them onto his back. Skin on skin contact is intoxicating and so is the realization how hard is waist is. It’s narrower than the rest of his body – but compared to yours? Not as much anymore.

You want to be pressed into the mattress with that body. You want to be covered completely with air pushed out of your lungs by his sheer weight. You want it holding you down, you want to be unable to see ceiling above his shoulder, you want all your world to be comprised to his body on top of you, his hand on your side leaving massive bruise on your skin. You want it all.

Now.

And it must be a shared sentiment because he walks you back into your living room. He tries to say something, head moving back but as soon as you sense his escape, you grab him oh-so-desperately. You arms surge up, grabbing his neck and yanking him back down. This time it’s your turn to get filthy, not enough mind left to be teasing. You are the one exploring, you are the one controlling, you are the one not letting the kiss end.

Jicheol groans – it’s a somewhat pained sound. As if he couldn’t believe how aroused you are or as if he just couldn’t help himself.

The back of your legs hits your sofa and you immediately tumble down. He falls down with you, barely controlling his fall and it kicks all of your air out of your lungs. Yes!

He pushes himself between your legs and you just let them fall open. He rolls his hips down, his belt pushing into your stomach, pushing you even deeper into your sofa. Yeah!

The next time, your hips go up to meet his and it makes you groan. You let your legs fall open as wide as they go – one squished against the backrest. The slight pain of your tendons pulling is nothing to the amazing feeling of his hardening erection rubbing just down the middle seam of your jeans. The sofa is not big enough to hold you both comfortably and Jicheol crawls up, his elbows above your shoulders his thigh pushing your free leg even higher. He crowds you against cushions your body covered by his. You exhale through your nostrils, but when you try to roll your hips with what little leverage you can muster – he drops down, his hips pushing yours into the sofa. YAS!

He is dry humping you into the cushions and you love every second, every electrifying push against your crotch, every drag of your clothes against your skin, now that they are getting damper with every second. And kissing? Kissing is a great counterpoint – so languid and filthy. You give as good as you get, biting back every time you feel teeth on your lip. You chase his tongue into his mouth whenever he backs out. You breaths are turning heavier, you can feel his exhale on your cheek, you can feel your mixed saliva on your chin.

He is the one to break the kiss and you are nearly offended. Especially when he sits up, one hand idly resting on your calf hanging on the couch. Fingers try to sink into it, but denim is not forgiving. You are heaving, looking up at this Greek god above you. Your legs are spread as far as they go, inviting him, even when you are still clothed, and the way your hips gyrate tell a clear story. His hand slides up onto your thigh – the warmth you feel through the denim on the inside of your thigh makes you whimper.

Jicheol smiles and the hand is gone – just so he can take off his shirt. Which is great because you decide to lose yours at the same moment. Your bra follows and they all land on the floor, unaccounted for. The moment you see skin you sit up and you both collide because Jicheol decided to go down. It’s prefect when he pushes you back into the sofa, naked skin on naked skin. The kiss is no longer languid and your hands are not longer idle. You are reacquainting yourself with his back and torso, while his own measure your dimensions. Five fingers from your waist to the side of your breasts, length of his middle finger from the side of your breast to your nipple, his mouth maps out the diameter of it, tongue measuring protruding height. You keep his head close not letting him stop his inspection.

“Ass, ass!” you exhale sounding quite wanton, even to your own ears. You push your hips into his amazing stomach to accentuate what you mean – because you realize he might not understand.

But he does, ever so surely sliding his hand down your arched spine, squeezing your ass. Great.

Jicheol groans around your other nipple teeth setting dangerously over it, he must have felt the hardness of the secret your pocket held. And he knew exactly what that was, even before he pulled it out. Warm metal lands on your stomach. Jicheol’s hand covers it and he uses the ring to mark your body with it. Sliding it up your ribcage, measuring against your breast, rolling up the neck. Your tongue darts out to taste the metal, his reaction is immediate: coming up to kiss you, ring hanging off his fingers as he brushes your hair off your face.

The process of pulling off pants is elaborate and weird but you find yourself back in the starting position and now his hand curling around your thigh, ring once more rolling a path down your skin. You laugh breathily when you realize where is it going. Smooth metal barely rolls down your clitoris and you are whining, offended with the teasing touch. Jicheol mimics your breathy laugh, which dies suddenly when he takes himself into his hand. You support yourself on your elbows to see him fit the ring around his cock and balls.

Have you ever mentioned how much you love his cock?

It’s big, hard and you have no qualms with admitting that. It’s also red and wet from precome and marked with veins. It’s also now adorned with silver band around the base and you can believe how long you waited for this to happen. The need to know what exactly will happen is intoxicating. You won’t wait anymore and you unceremoniously push your hand between your spread legs, thumb roughly circling around your clitoris.

Yes, you can masturbate with Jicheol between your legs. And that’s because it’s naked Jicheol between your legs, your dirty dream, your biggest sin, your most revered fantasy. Your hips rose off the bed chasing your own hand and the way Jicheol’s eyes narrowed on your hand makes you moan. Possessive hand lands on your waist, fingers nearly brushing your spine as he pushes you down and fucks into you with a quick forceful thrust.

“Yes!” you unabashedly moan, free hand reaching Jicheol. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers as he leisurely started to move inside you.

Hot wave spreads through your body. It’s highly erotic, something that still catches you off guard. Every time you expect Jicheol to be nearly animalistic, dangerous in bed. With body like that you expect him to threaten you but he only ever makes you feel safe. He shows his vulnerable side, he shows his soft side.

You watch him hypnotized. Jicheol kisses every knuckle, your palm, your wrist, all while rolling his hips into you. Those are not deep-reaching strokes. They are short, rolling, more teasing than not. It’s the thumb on your clitoris that makes you hot.

He suddenly drops down, pushing your wrist into the cushion above your head and you know you wouldn’t be able to fight it – you don’t have enough strength to fight him nor you want to. His head fits between your neck and shoulder and he kisses your jugular.

“Don’t rush it, babe, we are in for a long run,” he whispers huskily, delivering first real thrust of the night. You throw your head back, because yes, yes, yes that’s what you wanted. His breath is fanning your skin when he does it again, his knees slipping on the bed, body falling on top of yours, effectively trapping your hand between your bodies.

That’s a cage you always dream of.

The only lacking thing, however sweet it may be, is him kissing your neck – you want him above you, chasing his own pleasure, fucking you like he needs it.

“Only when I’m done with you,” he states and you don’t want it to be an empty threat. Teeth scrape your pulse point and you push your hips up, your hand putting pressure on his abdomen – you are still teasing your clitoris as much as you can.

One more snap of his hips, nice, one more, like that, pause so he can adjust his knees, one thigh pushing your leg that’s hanging off the sofa just a little bit higher. He bears down on it, moving off center and then he thrusts. He starts fucking you. But, really fucking you. Your hand in his grasp clenches on his fingers as you instinctively try to move up, away from brain numbing pleasure.

He is moving above you, but close enough for you to feel his warmth, experience his sheer size, enjoy the way his chest brushes against yours. You arch to get your pinched nipples any stimulation you can get.

That’s exactly what you’ve been yearning for. Jicheol labored breath in your ear, obscene sounds filling the room, your body sweaty and squirming with his body on top of you, balls deep in you.

And soon thoughts like that leave you – there is only heat, arousal and flashes of pleasure building up into an surely oncoming orgasm.

He brings you to it, fingers leaving imprints on different parts of your body, teeth sinking into skin, tongue lapping at the dented skin. He brings you to it, body sputtering filthy when he doesn’t have enough breath to talk anymore.

He fucks you through it, holding you down, drinking your moans straight from your lips.

And he keeps fucking you though it with a growl deep in his chest. And he keeps fucking you after the sound disperses in the air. He keeps fucking you long after you expect him to end, he keeps fucking you after already dried tears start falling down again. You are coming apart, too hazed with your oversensitivity, spasming on the bed, your pelvic floor muscles cramping periodically, still greedily sucking him inside, your body still trying to get away from the excessive force of his thrusts.

And he is still going hard and strong.

Later you will remember. Later, after all is done, and you can start to breathe more freely, when you can move to the bed on your shaky legs, your labias and your vagina still pulsing, clitoris swollen and body covered in red marks, you will realize that his prowess was enhanced by the stupid ring he gave you. Later, after all is done, and you can bask in the glory of this phenomenal intercourse, wrapped in his muscular arms, you will realize that it was indeed a present to you.

But for now, he was still fucking you, face contorted with overwhelming pleasure. His hips were faltering ever so often, sloppy kisses eating up your pained approval. Your legs cramped as your toes curled and your back arched, your fingers on your neck. He was on top of you, and through glazed eyes you saw neck, clavicle, chest – no sign of the ceiling.

As he kept fucking you.

#gong yoo #gong yu #gon jicheol #gong yoo scenario #gong yoo imagine #gong yoo scenarios #gong yoo imagines #kdrama scenario #kdrama scenarios

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plasticoveredfurniture · 5 years

Text

inktober d15: legend

pairing: jinmin

words: 2950

tags: gumiho jimin, mentions of organised crime, sex work, happy ending

According to Korean folklore, Gumihos, or nine-tailed foxes, are immortal creatures that feed on human flesh. They can shapeshift and present as beautiful women in order to lure men in and consume their liver, and these powers are something they inherit after being alive for centuries. But that's some old legend. Everybody knows that Gumihos don't actually feed off human flesh. Jimin, however, knows that they actually do. They just keep it on the down low to avoid arising any sort of suspicion, they remember what happened to those who were discovered back in the day.

Nowadays they were just pretty pets that rich old men would pay billions of won to get a taste of. Most Gumihos lived in hiding, concealing their ears under hats and hoods, and limiting their contact with the outside world, only abandoning their dens to go hunting.

Some, however, found protection with rich, ruthless men who didn't even budge at the sight of a dismembered body. That was the life that Jimin had chosen. Male gumihos were extremely rare, and he knew how much his body was worth. So he showed up at the Koki'o, one of the most expensive clubs in the entirety of Seoul. They had a well renowned escort service that was exclusively accessible to their most important guest only. These included CEOs of big companies, celebrities, even politicians. They offered a wide variety of toys for their patrons, most of them being foreign beauties and non-humans. But they did not have a Gumiho at hand. Let alone a male one. Jimin knew he'd definitely get in, but he'd have to work closely with Gong Jicheol, the owner. Jimin had done his research and he knew Jicheol ran a few other businesses alongside the brothel. He distributed nearly every substance in existence to pretty much all of Seoul. Of course, he mostly dealt with opium and cocaine, for the old and the rich. And Jimin was sure, meaning a solid 80%, that the man had killed and tortured a few poor souls. He had to get the job.

He anonymously contacted Mr. Gong to schedule a meeting and, much to his surprise, the man had agreed immediately. They met at the Koki'o before opening hours. Jimin made sure to wear his tightest suit. He wanted to be professional, but nothing could stop him from showing off his assets. He also put on his favourite silver jewellery, which mostly consisted of rings upon rings and pendant earrings, lined his eyes in dark brown eyeshadow, and tinted his lips a faint shade of crimson.

“You must be Jimin”

“And you must be Gong-ssi”

He bowed politely and made sure to wiggle his tail to draw attention to his rear. He decided to manifest his ears and only one out of nine tails, the other eight only came in handy in the bedroom. People think that Gumihos' tails have no practical use, but they actually function similarly to tentacles when they are feeding. Truly fascinating.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the older man spoke again.

“Please, follow me to my office.”

The office was a vast room located on the very top floor of the building. In the middle of it was a desk with two armchairs in the front and a third one on the other side. Behind it a huge glass wall.

Jimin sat down after Jicheol gestured for him to make himself comfortable. The older man stood with his hands in his pockets while leaning against the wooden desk.

“So, Jimin.” the Gumiho hummed in acknowledgement “What did you want to talk to me about that is so important to require a private meeting?”

“Gong-ssi, I have heard a lot about the Koki'o and the, uhm, services it provides for its most important clients.”

Jicheol looked interested and gestured for Jimin to go on.

“Well, I think we could help each other out.” He leaned back in the armchair. His tail was wagging lightly and his ears relaxed.

“Do you? And what would you like to suggest, dear?"

“I hear you don't have a Gumiho on your menu, and I happen to be one. Male too, we are extremely rare. Imagine how much you could charge those old fucks just so they could have me for ten pathetic minutes.”

“I'm listening”

“Obviously I'm not here because I want greasy old men to put their penis in my vicinity.”

Jicheol chuckled.

“I figured”

"You see, Gong-ssi” Jimin stood up, walking closer to the man “there's things you don't know about my kind.”

His tail was stroking the elder's side. Jicheol gulped.

“Are you familiar with the original legend, Gong-ssi?”

“The one about you being flesh-eating monsters?”

“Yes, precisely that one. It's true.”

He looked panicked for a second.

“Oh, don't worry. I'm not here to rip your heart out, sweets. I'm here to offer you a business deal. I work for you and make so much money that you won't even know what to do with it. In return, I need you to pick my meals for me. And dispose of them.”

Jicheol looked pleased by the offer. Jimin walked even closer.

“What do I get out of it, though? I am filthy rich, I couldn't care less about the money.”

“Have you ever fucked a Gumiho, Gong-ssi?”

That's how Jimin ended up working at Koki'o. He was being paid 1.000.000₩ an hour, and an extra something on the side because Jicheol had grown fond of him. Or rather, of his ass and mouth. But as long he got paid, Jimin didn't mind. Once a week Jicheol would pick a client out for him, usually low profile rich old men who had a debt to pay or had gotten away with a crime of some sort. It was Jicheol's way to uphold his end of the bargain without it weighing too much on his conscience. He may have been a murderer, but he'd never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. At least that was what he told himself.

The other days Jimin would just roam the club looking all pretty and expensive and downright edible, and looked for clients. The great thing about being a fox, according to Jimin, was, other than the tails, having a high libido and a virtually non-existent refractory period. So he could take on four or five clients per night and bury himself in money and jewellery.

Jimin had always been able to get his way through his beauty and cunning fox senses, so he wasn't used to hearing no. Especially not after starting working at the club.

Which is why he had fixated his attention on one particular patron.

“Well, hello there handsome”

It wasn't rare to find good looking men at the Koki'o, many celebrities were regulars because of the pleasant environment and the extensive security system that made it impossible for paparazzi or other lowlifes to get in. However, Jimin had never seen someone that beautiful. So, in true Jimin nature, he decided to flirt his way into the man's bed.

But he did not anticipate the man's response to be the one he got.

“Sorry, not interested”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I'm not interested”

“I didn't even- You're really turning this down? Before I even got to try anything?”

Jimin flicked his tail against the patron's ear, hoping it would help his case but it only seemed to further irritate him.

“Have you seen me, sweetie? Do I look like I need to pay for a good fuck?” he was smirking, but his tone was bitter.

“Of course you don't, but I bet you've never fucked a Gumiho.”

The man stood up.

“Pass.” and he just left.

That didn't sit right with Jimin, so he retired back to his room.

Later that night Jicheol asked him how many clients he'd had that night.

“None.”

“What do you mean none?”

“I didn't fuck anyone”

“And why would that be?”

“I have my eyes on someone.”

“Am I exempt from this abstinence of yours?”

Jimin couldn't help but smirk.

“As long as the price is right, hyung.”

It went on like this for months. Jimin refused to actually work until he got that man inside his bed. He had never been rejected and he wouldn't settle for a no. So he spent all of his money on expensive lingerie and nighties, jewels, makeup, whatever it took to make him pretty.

But it was all to no avail.

One night he asked Jicheol about the mystery man.

“His name is Kim Seokjin. He's an actor. He comes here almost every night, but he's only here for the drinks. Never done coke, never bedded a whore. He's a weird one.”

After four whole months of trying to seduce the pretty actor, Jimin gave up.

“Okay, fine. You win” he said one right when he got to the bar counter.

“What?”

“I give up. You don't wanna fuck me, I accept that. I still think you're making a terrible decision though.”

The older man chuckled as he took a sip of his drink.

“Okay”

“I'm Park Jimin, by the way”

“Kim Seokjin.”

Just because Jimin had given up, didn't mean that he was done pestering the actor. Every night he looked for him and spent hours chatting with him about the most pointless of things.

After a couple of weeks they decided to keep their conversations to the confines of Jimin's room so that they wouldn't be interrupted by other customers who wanted to request Jimin's services.

It was nice having someone who treated him like a person for once. He didn't feel like a monster when he was with Seokjin. He felt like a person.

But he wasn't. And he couldn't keep lying to his friend like that, so one night he came clean.

"Hyung"

"Yes, Jimin-ah?"

"You know I'm a Gumiho."

"Yes, silly. I can see the ears and tail." replied the actor chuckling.

"There's things you don't know about Gumihos though."

Jimin's eyebrows were furrowed and was fidgeting, eyes fixed on the floor.

Seokjin put his hand on the fox's shoulder.

"Jimin-ah, what is it?"

Jimin told him about the feeding and all of the blood he had on his hands and for the first time in a thousand years, he cried.

Sobs wrecked through his body and the elder just held him though it.

"B-but I haven't fed in so long, hyung. At first I just forgot but now I'm scared. I don't want to hurt people and I don't- I don't know if I want to face the consequences and I-I don't know how to deal with it."

"Jiminie, hey, look at me." the actor cupped the Gumiho's face in his hands. "You're not a monster, okay. You did what you had to in order to survive. And I'm so proud of you for not feeding in so long. But isn't it dangerous? Aren't you going to starve?"

There was actual concern in his voice. That only made Jimin's heart ache more.

"No, we have to feed to keep our fox alive and stay immortal, but if a Gumiho doesn't feed for long enough it eventually becomes human."

"Do you want that?"

"I don't know, Seokjinnie-hyung."

They stayed in silence for a little bit. The only sounds that could be heard were their soft breaths and Jimin's quiet sniffling.

"I don't want to live like this anymore, hyung"

Convincing Gong Jicheol to let the Gumiho go wasn't easy in the slightest, but the man had money to spare and liked Jimin too much to force him into something that he didn't want so he took pity on the poor fox and set him free.

Jimin didn't know what he wanted. He had lived for a thousand years and all he'd ever known was sex and gore and hiding. He'd never had someone care about him. He'll, he'd never cared about anyone but himself. Everything was new to him.

In the meanwhile, Seokjin offered him a place to stay in his own home. He kept him company and cooked him food and made him feel safe. He made him feel human.

Not feeding, they discovered, came with its downsides.

Gumihos don't experience emotions. Not the way humans do. All that Gumihos know is lust, hunger, and anger. Happiness, grief, attachment, they're all foreign concepts to Jimin.

As time went by, he started experiencing them at the most random of times.

Some nights he'd wake up screaming and sweating after nightmares about the innocents he'd fed on and he'd cry himself back to sleep in Seokjin's arms as the guilt swallowed him whole.

But it wasn't all bad. He got to experience joy and belonging and affection. And in so many instances. When he was cuddled up against Seokjin at night when he was forced to watch all of the movies and dramas the actor had starred in.

The more time passed, the more Jimin enjoyed this new living arrangement and before he knew it, he'd made his mind up.

They were about to get to sleep, in the same bed because Seokjin wanted to be close to Jimin in case he had yet another nightmare, when he told the elder.

"Seokjinnie-hyung"

He hummed as he was fluffing his pillow without even looking at the fox, nervously flicking his tail as he was sitting cross legged on the bed.

"I made up my mind."

"About what, Jiminie?"

"I want to be human"

Seokjin dropped the pillow and crawled toward the younger to take his hands in his much bigger ones.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't want to hurt people. And I'm starting to get the hang of this emotion thing, it's not that bad"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Sure, I have nightmares and I feel horrible about what I did in the past, but the guilt reminds me that I'm not bad to the core. And I like the way my heart skips a beat when you look at me. And the way my cheeks flush when you hold my hand. And the way my heart beats faster when you hold me. So, yeah, it's not that bad."

"Jimin-ah" it sounded like a plea

"Yes, hyungie?"

"Can I-" a deep breath "Can I kiss you?"

"Please" breathed out the younger.

That night they didn't get much sleep, too busy intertwining their bodies to the point that they didn't know where one ended and the other began. They took their sweet time and for the first time Jimin understood why people make a distinction between having sex and making love. It was also the first time he didn't let his tails out. He didn't have to in order to feel good or make the other feel good. When he was with Seokjin he was just his sweet little Jimmie, a person not a fox. He'd never felt more alive in his thousand years than he did when the elder's lips were on his body and it was intoxicating.

By the time they were done the sun was already rising over Seoul and they fell asleep in each other's arms with a soft pink light falling over their naked bodies.

After that, Jimin stopped thinking about feeding completely. He filled his belly with whatever his hyung cooked for him, and his heart with the love and affection he was showered with.

He got so used to being treated like a human that he would forget about his ears and tail until he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth or passed in front of a window and he'd catch a glimpse of his reflection, but it stopped bothering at some point. Until, one day, things changed.

He'd woken up before Seokjin did, he wanted to treat his hyung to breakfast in bed since he'd mastered the art of scrambling eggs and flipping pancakes. So, like every other morning, he walked to the bathroom to wash his face and lightly brush his teeth to get rid of morning breath. It was when he was brushing the knots out of his hair that he noticed. His tail was nowhere in sight. And neither were his ears.

He let out a startled gasp and dropped his hairbrush. He'd done it. He'd finally gotten rid of the fox.

He rushed to the bedroom to wake his boyfriend up.

"Hyungie! Hyung! Wake up!"

"Wha- Is something wrong Jimin-ah?"

"I don't know, you tell me"

Jimin's smile was wide and blinding, the kind of smile that made his cheeks bunch up and his eyes disappear.

"What are you on abo-"

Silence.

"Your- Where- What?"

"We did it, hyung!"

"Holy shit, really?"

"Yes! I'm finally human, hyungie"

The both of them started tearing up. When they locked eyes, they both launched forward. Their lips interlocked and Jimin could feel his heart trying to escape his chest.

Safe to say that Jimin didn't make breakfast in bed that morning, but he did make sure to say thank you in true Jimin fashion. That time around they didn't leave the bed until the sun was setting and when they did their hearts were light and humming despite the soreness in their muscles. Later that night Jimin felt too restless to sleep so he just stayed up admiring the way the moonlight highlighted Seokjin's sharp features. What he was feeling was definitely happiness and he could definitely get used to it. Jimin chuckled to himself. He didn't think people like him, whores and monsters, were granted happy endings. But, come to think of it, his wasn't a happy ending. It was just the beginning. And his beginning was a selfless actor named Kim Seokjin.

#btsboulangerie

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chicken-fifi · 20 days

Text

The Sly Fox | Gong Yoo Imagine

Pairing: Gong Jicheol x Reader

Requested by @ilovemyapopbaby: Hi! I would like to request a Gong Yoo fic where the reader is friends with him and they both have a crush on each other but they don't know how to tell the other. Until one day Gong Yoo tells their mutual friend Lee Dong Wook his feelings about you and Lee Dong Wook hatches a plan with a few other people to get you and Gong Yoo together and it works! Pleeeeeease??? You can sprinkle some angst in there if you like

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 336 words

A/n: i decided no angst in this one, i needed something fluffier (i'm not opposed to doing an alternative version at a later date though). i also changed it a little bit, because i wanted to have some fun

Tunes: Tolerate it | a taylor swift playlist

Dongwook swore he was going to win the friend of the year award for this master plan of his. Or at least he should be honored at your wedding in a few years time for being the person to orchestrate the love the two of you were bound to develop and experience.

You two owed him big time.

If this plan worked that is.

If it didn’t, he had no part in it whatsoever.

So there you sat with Jicheol right across from you at the cafe, Dongwook sitting out of sight in the back of said cafe. How on earth the two of you hadn’t seen him was a mystery but he was thankful for it nonetheless as he was thankful for it since the two of you were clearly having fun. He swore he felt his heart soar seeing the two of you laughing and very obviously flirting with one another, quickly forgetting that he was even supposed to show up and were using the original friends lunch date as your own date now.

“Do you think he did this on purpose?” you asked Jicheol, voice lowered.

“Knowing the sly fox as well as I do,” Jicheol began. “He more than likely thought he was getting something done between the two of us.”

You laughed as you took a sip of your drink, “He probably does. He’ll also take all the credit for something he thinks he’s behind.”

Huh?

Dongwook choked on his coffee as he heard your words over the chatter of the establishment.

Were the two of you already-

“We’ll have to tell him eventually…I mean it’s been almost two years-”

TWO YEARS!?!?!?

The noise around Dongwook seemed to stop before he turned around, noticing both of your eyes on him.

Crap.

He had said that out loud rather than in his head.

There was an awkward silence shared between the three of you as you exchanged looks with one another time and time again.

“Surprise?” you said smiling.

Yeah, big surprise.

#kactor #kactor masterlist #kactor imagines #kactor scenarios #gong yoo #gong jicheol #gong yoo masterlist #gong jicheol masterlist #gong yoo imagines #gong yoo scenarios #gong jicheol imagines #gong jicheol scenarios

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chicken-fifi · 2 years

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Two Friends and a Wedding - Gong Yoo Imagine (Prompt)

This is a prompt challenge I’m writing for @wint3r-h3art‘s 1.2K Celebration. Congratulations again for that milestone!

Prompt: Gong Yoo Friends to Lovers/Two Idiots in Love

Word Count: 1,200 words

You were beginning to regret agreeing to be Jicheol’s ‘plus one’ to his friend’s wedding. While the promise of good food and alcohol had most certainly been kept, the constant questions about how you two met and how you two had been dating were beginning to irk you a little bit. Not that the comments weren’t welcome - they gave you something to feed your little fantasy with - but everytime you two would stutter out the response that you weren’t in fact dating and that you were simply best friends since…well since you two met on some fishing expedition that he went on willingly and you were dragged along by your other friend.

Was it too hard for people to accept the fact that a man and a woman could be friends and nothing more? Why did everyone have to think that just because two people of the opposite sex going to a wedding together - in coincidently matching outfits, might I add - were an item, official, in love? Could they see the longing look in your gaze every time you looked at him? Were they able to hear the way your heart beats increased every time his skin grazed against yours - something you had been denying for far too long, often attributing it to the fact that you hate crowded places and would rather be back in the comfort of your quiet, less crowded home with your new kitten? Did they know how you felt about your best friend?

Your thoughts raced until Jicheol poked your arm, mouthing something and pointing in the direction of the crowd of almost all women who had gathered around the catwalk-like stage, aisle? Not quite understanding what it was he was getting at, you gave him a confused look before he shook his head standing up and dragged you with him to the crowd, dropping you off like how you would a kindergartener on their very first day of school and taking a few steps back. You stood there facing in the opposite direction of everyone else, staring at him in complete and utter confusion. Just as you raised your hand - palm open - to question his actions something landed in it, your palm closing around it on instinct.

The entire room began cheering, the crowd behind you congratulating you for catching the bouquet. Jicheol smiled brightly at you, clapping and saying something you couldn’t quite make out over the voices of the other guests and the music playing. Then you heard the announcement for the next thing that would be happening.

“Can we get all the non-married men on the floor for the garter toss?” the host called out.

Your eyes panned over to Jicheol who shook his head and stuck his hands out in denial waving them as if they would keep you away from him; save himself from being dragged out to the growing crowd of men where the women once were. It was no use. You grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the crowd, swiftly letting go and running off, the bouquet in your hand slightly harmed from the movement. It was now Jicheul who turned to look at you - facing away from everyone else in the crowd - as the garter was tossed into the air just as he raised his hand, finger pointed at you. Said finger caught the garter drawing his attention away from you for a brief moment.

The women around you shoved you in his direction as you stood there in shock trying to calculate the odds of this happening - you wonder if Spencer Reid would be able to figure this out. You soon stood before Jicheol - who had been kept in place by the many men who had gathered for the toss. As if on cue, a slow song began playing as the host asked for a round of applause for the couple who would be getting married next - you guys as the tradition goes. The two of you stood there awkwardly before Jicheol cracked and laughed, giving a silly bow and extending his hand. You took it, allowing him to lead you in the dance - something you were surprised to find he was rather good at. The song ended followed by the guest chanting for a kiss from the two of you which sent heat across both of your guys’ cheeks.

Mustering up your courage, you went onto the tips of your toes, hands pressed against his broad chest and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Jicheol’s eyes widened, face turning to look at you as you fell back to your normal height. His adams apple bobbed up and down as he gulped before cupping your face and leaning down to press a ghost of a kiss on your lips. He pulled away staring at you intently, his gaze never leaving yours despite the many pairs of people coming onto the dance floor as another song began playing. The two of you stood still in the center for a while only moving when an older couple not so subtly danced their way next to the two of you. The older man looked at the older woman before turning to look at Jicheol.

“I remember when we were this young and in love. Don’t you Dear?” he voiced.

The older woman nodded, “Congratulations to the both of you! I wish the two of you a loving and prosperous relationship!”

As soon as they had approached the two of you they danced away getting lost within the sea of dancers. Jicheol’s hand found yours, taking it before tugging you behind him as he maneuvered the two of you out of the crowd and reception hall until you were outside in the somewhat empty hallway. He stopped abruptly causing you to run into his back nearly falling backwards before he steadied you.

“Sorry,” he apologized, quickly letting go and wringing his hands before shoving them into his slack’s pockets. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable back there with the kiss and all. I just- I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry and I completely understand if you never want to see my face again.”

“I don’t know what came over me either,” you comforted. “But I’m not upset at it. I liked it. I liked it a lot actually. I like you. A lot. In a more than a friend way. And I have no idea why I’m telling you this. You don’t have to say anything I just needed to get this off my-”

His lips pressed against yours again, silencing you briefly before he pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours as he smiled gently at you.

“I like you a lot too and as much more than a friend.”

A smile graced your lips as your hand rose to cup his cheek, thumb grazing over his skin. Angling your head, you pressed your lips gently against his other cheek before laying your head against his shoulder basking in his warmth before returning to the hall just in time to see the newly wed couple smush cake into each other's faces. Maybe you weren’t regretting coming to this wedding after all.

#wint3r-h3art #wint3rh3art #lindas1.2kchallenge #lindas1.2kcelebration #kactors imagines #soloists and actors master list #soloist and actors imagines #soloists and actors scenarios #gong yoo #gong yoo masterlist #gong jicheol #gong yoo imagines #gong yoo scenarios #gong jicheol scenarios #gong jicheol imagines

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