#*Dates & Number of People can be adjusted*

[kinokoshoujoart]

the coolest kids in forgotten valley!!☆

(…it seems there may have been a stretch of time where rock and lumina were the only kids in forgotten valley…🥲)

poseref

[kithtaehyung]

minted: two (explicit) | myg

title: minted: two (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: one | masterlist rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! note 2: as always, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma/pstd, poor reader :(((, but also YES READER???, tension to the max, inner turmoil, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee… a ha ha, did i mention tension?, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn drop date: september 30th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.8k help me @ god

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There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not for being the source of multiple health aspects, nor the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you release your hand or if Yoongi lets it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside—wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. 

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him right now than you are by yourself. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with him, either. You don’t even know who this man is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a staff member, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions you can’t name.

Yeah, you fucked up.

Fuck. 

Fuck you actually made a big mistake go back don’t let the elevator close shit—

As you lunge for the door, you get your arm through to block it from closing, turning to the employee inside and seeing their expression change. 

What was that about?

“Sorry,” you blurt to their pressed and polished grey uniform. “I forgot something inside.”

“I can wait, Miss,” they immediately offer, to which you politely and cautiously decline. 

“No need.” When you step out of the elevator, something happens that you think about hours and hours later. “I’ll come down when I’m ready, thank you.”

You can suddenly breathe again. Why was it so stuffy in there?

The worker bows stiff. “As you wish.” 

Without pause, you nod, waiting until the doors close to face someone turned away.

Ugh. It’s like Yoongi knew you weren’t gonna leave. Either that, or he really didn’t give a crap about what you did at all.

Either way, fuck this guy and fuck your indecisive ass!

In full aggravation, you march through the entrance before grating out, “You’re lucky I—”

“Shower.”

“What?”

“The blood,” he calmly breathes. “If you’re gonna hit the streets, wash it out.” 

“It isn’t mine.”

“I know.”

Your mouth snaps shut. 

Fuck. Yoongi’s right. 

“Okay. Well,” you scoff, “Good point but how can I trust you to not do anything.” 

When he tilts his head with a bored, unamused, borderline ticked off expression, you almost scoff before he drawls, 

“Not interested.” 

Oh. He’s… 

Oh. 

But the taxi and the hand-holding and the the the kiss what the hell? Was your liplock not up to this Dragon’s standards? Why are you questioning something so trivial? 

The nerve. You plunge your shoulders in exasperation, hating how you chose to put yourself in another situation with this pain in the ass and he isn’t even… “I swear to—You know what? Good. Not interested, either.”

A lie. 

Scrambling, your stomach speaks the next sentence for you, “But there better be food when I come out cus you robbed me of lunch today. So do something about that.” 

Fucking hell you do not need his lips to quirk up so deliciously. That one look completely offsets what he just said and annoyingly tickles your core. 

Stop. Focus. You cannot entertain any of those thoughts so ignore him and find a bedroom. 

Opening the first door you can see, you continue your tirade, “And no more stealing my chopsticks.”

“Closet.”

Of course it’s a closet! Shutting it with force, you let out a high curse. “Who needs a closet here? Whatever, just—figure it out, I’m starving.”

“Yes, princess.”

You flick Yoongi off as you blaze down the hall, not even knowing nor caring if he sees or not. 

The next door works, and you shut him out before falling back onto its weight, so fraught with emotion that you can’t even register the appearance of the room. 

Today has aged you multiple years. So much has transpired ever since this afternoon that you can’t even think in straight nor curved lines. As soon as you remember something, another thought juts between. Why are you simultaneously thinking about dingy, stained floors while agonizing over Yoongi’s lips? Is there a place other than hell or heaven you can settle on? 

As soon as you’re physically and mentally patched, you are out of here. 

The plan is simple. Shower, eat, give this man a piece of your manic mind, then go home.

Although… It would be nice to at least know what’s in that duffle. If it’s something worth taking you could finesse a piece of the loot. 

Swallowing dry, you push yourself off the door and finally notice a flood of ambient light. 

At your side, you come across an expansive bathroom, eyeing the wall-to-wall entrance before taking in the center shower with disdain and awe.

The whole setup is lavish. 

Does the water just fall straight from the ceiling and into that large square tub? This looks nothing like your cramped, chipped one back home. There’s even lush plants lining the area and towels already folded nearby for use. 

Maybe you did get killed on the run and you’re in some type of dreamworld. 

Too bad you aren’t alone.

As you drag tired feet onto heated tile, you search for the shower knobs, realizing you have a whole panel to work with instead. 

Uhh. 

What. 

You quickly find that one button blows water like a hose straight from the top, scaring you so bad you jump. When you hastily try another, something whirrs in the floor that has your brows kissing—

“You good?”

Fuck!

You flinch and hit the wall, groaning when you see Yoongi lazily resting against one side of the bathroom entrance. Both of your voices echo in the extravagant interior.

“You ever knock?”

“No.”

“Shocker.”

He walks up the tiny steps, and you’re more than relieved you’re still wearing his jacket. When he gets closer, you turn and face the panel, “I can figure it out.”

“Move.”

You get slightly displaced as he gets close, resting a hand on the wall while bending to operate the buttons. As you inhale his musk, you respond to his second question instead of his first. “What?”

“Is this fine,” he repeats, checking the settings before turning to the shower area.

Oh. Wow. It’s a lot more than fine.

A circle of rain falls into a beautifully lighted tub, steam wafting through the glow and coating your skin. 

You’re so entranced that you are quite literally left speechless. Skirting around your present company, you gaze up, down, silently observing the plants sway with the shower air. 

Strangely, this whole bathroom makes everything you’ve seen today believable because of the sheer wonder of it all. It’s almost enough to make you forget what you’ve done. 

Almost. 

When you pause, you see Yoongi watching your face from beyond the rainfall. And he looks so handsome, even now, not doing a thing. 

Is it because he’s clearly roughed up but still so poised? Very unlike you in your banged up, dirty state? 

Huffing, you fold your arms a little too harshly—out of jealousy or whatever else, who is to say. “I’m good now,” you proclaim, keeping your walls high. “I can do the rest myself.” 

Again with that little slant. 

Ignore him ignore him. If Yoongi keeps doing that, you’re really gonna have to brave the outside world instead of dying by smirk. A tub has never been so interesting in your life. 

“Suit yourself.”

You look up again.

But he’s already left you alone.

Solely to undress and contemplate what the hell he implied by that.

Why did you walk left today instead of right?

Under scorching rain in the middle of luxury, this is the question you repeat in your head. Watching all the burnt streams of your decision swirl, and swirl, and swirl. 

The blood will never wash out.

Does the price of saving a life have to be this high? It must be somewhat divine, being that in order to save, you took. If only there was another way to achieve that end goal. Though there’s no way to do it all over again to be sure.

Staring at four chopsticks on the ground, you try to assure yourself. You need to.

Because at least you succeeded. 

But will your price be more damning because of the one you saved? 

Rushing water mutes your hearing as it pours onto sore limbs. When you reach for the scrub for a third time, you make sure to really dig, scraping at every. Single. Inch. In a last attempt to cleanse yourself completely.

Knowing that even after the water runs clear, you still see nothing but red.

You chose left today.

If you had chosen right… 

Doesn’t matter. 

Your palm tingles.

Blood never really washes out.

Holy fuck, you don’t have clothes to change into.

Wrapping yourself in plush material, you hastily pad around freezing floors as you think of a plan.

You can’t just ask for them. How would Yoongi even have any for you? The jacket was more than enough borrowing for today and you’re in a hotel room, not his place.

Thank the universe.  

But the matter is pretty urgent. Because you’d rather burn your belongings before putting them on again. Which leaves zero clothing and a thousand issues. Fuck. 

Dragging feet to the massive sliding doors, you steel your resolve. Hoist your shields back upright. 

Because there’s no choice. You’re just gonna have to dread another conversation with this man. An embarrassing, awkward, unprecedented shit why is he in the bedroom!

You flinch backward as you slam the door closed. Peeking out, you gawk, “What the hell are you���?”

Did Yoongi just pocket a phone?

The duffle rests at his feet. 

Wait. Did he stay in here while you showered? Thank god you had the foresight to slide all the doors shut because you definitely spent a lot of your time scrubbing like mad or standing completely still. 

No. Yoongi’s hair is wet, so he did shower at some point. And he’s donning a robe, which is precisely what made you slam the door shut. 

How can he look like royalty wearing that? The material is quite lush and silken, but still plain. It makes no fucking sense and you wanna rip it right off—

Gathering yourself, you rush out, “Why are you in here?”

“You took too long.”

“So? That doesn’t—”

“In my shower.”

Wait. What? “Oh.” 

You slide the door open a little more to check his claim. And now that you finally see the room, you can tell it’s clearly been used already, clothes and bottles scattered about. “You said pick one.” 

“I did.” Yoongi turns to drop something onto a dark comforter. “Figured you picked it on purpose.”

“No, I… I didn’t notice the room.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says after a brief look your way. “Not sharing the bed, though.”

“No need,” you snip. “I’m leaving soon.” 

Motherfucker. Yoongi only regards his sheets with a smile that triggers your fight response. And you almost—almost—drop the towel. 

Speaking of. How are you even standing in his vicinity with only a single piece of cloth? Are you seriously that exhausted you didn’t even think twice about it?

Suddenly very, very aware of yourself, you squeak, “Umm.” He waits. “I don’t have any clothes.” 

“That’s what you get for kicking me out so quick.”

Your jaw hits the floor. “So what, I’m walking around with a towel? Are you out of your mind? If you think I’m some—”

“Fuck, relax,” he slowly groans to the ceiling. “I was gonna say there’s robes in the closet.” 

You snap your mouth closed so hard it jangles. “Then just say that!” And you slam the partition closed before fast walking to find them. 

Missing the way Yoongi huffs before staring hard at his bedroom door.

On your second arrival into his room, your steps and demeanor are a lot calmer. 

Is it because he’s a lot calmer, too? Maybe. Is it also because you smell food, realizing he did exactly what you wanted? Maybe more so. 

Noticing a table situated near balcony doors, you blink before regarding Yoongi’s sitting form on one of the chairs outside. 

A man lounging while smoking in a robe should not be this alluring. And yet, that’s the only word you can think of to describe him.  

Throat drying and aching, you slowly walk over and take a seat, already ravenous enough to dive into broth head first. But you eye Yoongi while retrieving new chopsticks, scowling when all he does is flash teeth through the glass.

Do not engage do not engage do not engage. 

Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your— 

“You’re really mad about that, huh.”

You snap your head up to see him leaning on the doorway. “I was hungry.”

“There was a cup of them on your table.”

“So why didn’t you grab those instead!” 

Yoongi ticks his brows before peering into the night. And he stays like that for awhile, letting a breeze lift his damp locks. “Didn’t expect to see you there,” he admits. “Gotta say you threw me off.”

Nu uh. No more heart skips for today. “I didn’t expect to see you, either,” you too choose to be honest. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

“You were going to.”

As curious brows furrow, you break your utensils apart. “Figured something happened.” Guess you’re being honest about a lot of things. “Or you found another tangerine girl.” 

Yoongi holds his look before taking a drag, smoke spiraling around his words, “Why were you even over there? You’re a bit far from Crane.”

You blink at his deflection.

What was that about? What is that look for? 

Holding his gaze because you aren’t done challenging him, you calmly answer, “I was shopping.”

“Shopping.”

“Mmhmm.” 

Falling silent, he observes a little longer before flicking ash off his cigarette. 

And just like that, the conversation dies. 

It’s for the best anyways. If Yoongi kept prying, he was gonna get closer to the truth. And you wanna slip around that as much as possible. 

But he keeps standing in the doorway, inked arm bending as he breathes in smoke. Donned in a dark robe and topped in teal, he suits Dragon perfectly. Way too perfectly. 

Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your noodles instead. 

Your noodles.

Your noodles. 

You’re not hungry anymore. 

Something horrid jams up your throat, and you run through your day in flashes. The restaurant. The food. Dragons. The chopsticks. The kill. The chase. Yoongi. The kill the kill the kill. 

Dirt and shouts and lifeless lips clog your hearing, and your grip loosens completely as your vision shakes and shakes why couldn’t Yoongi have gotten anything else why does it have to be—

A hand. 

A robed arm. 

Your new utensils come back into view. 

But when you face reality, you don’t see them put them back into your hand. You don’t even see them dug in your noodles and left there. 

Instead, you watch as Yoongi plants one palm on the table, slowly lifting strands from the bowl and staring right into your eyes, 

“Eat.” 

Words. Get them out. Something something communication. Key is communication. What the fuck is happening to your brain? 

“I can’t,” you finally croak out. “I’m not.. I’m not hungry.” 

“You are.” 

“Not anymore.” 

Nose scrunching, Yoongi suddenly drops the food and dumps himself on the chair nearest, stretching his leg and revealing a littering of scars. “Didn’t know you were fine with wasting food.” 

The icy descent of his tone freezes your bones.

“Thought you of all people would hate that.” 

“I—I’m not—It’s not that—”

“Then eat.” 

“I literally can’t—” 

“Water. Food. If you’re gonna waste all my shit, then leave.” 

“What?” 

Is he serious? You’re in the midst of post-traumatic shock and he can’t take the hint? You’re so appalled by this man that you can’t even think straight. 

“You heard me. Stop acting like you didn’t.” 

“Oh, I heard you,” you snap. “Just double-checking what the fuck you said.” 

“So you gonna leave or just sit there? If you’re staying I’ll just walk out the roo—”

“Don’t.” 

Both of you still at your words.

And you have to force your palms to unfurl on your quivering thighs. One knuckle. Another. Nails leave half-moons in your skin. 

Breath haphazard, you finally break. “Just,” you swallow, hard. “I’m not wasting it just give me a sec.” 

You don’t want to tell Yoongi why you want him to stay. Despite him being the most infuriating person you’ve ever met, it beats the alternative. And you don’t want the alternative. Truthfully, that’s another reason why you left the elevator earlier. 

Yoongi looks pissed as hell. 

But he hasn’t moved. 

And that’s enough to get you to pick up your chopsticks and try again. 

You stare. Stare. Stare. Mustering courage and inhaling all the aromas you indulged in just earlier today. 

Fuck, you wanna hurl. 

“You’re gonna have to get used to this.”

Your gaze snaps to his, brows and thoughts knitted in disbelief. “What?”

“This feeling.” Yoongi looks out the glass doors, hands resting on the arms of his chair. “The faster you do, the better.”

There’s no way he’s serious. Get used to it? What reason would you ever have for doing that? Caustic, you scoff, “Why, so I don’t waste more of your food?”

You’ve never seen someone laugh in a negative way. But he does before sliding his eyes over. “So when you have to do it again, you don’t lock the fuck up hours later.”

You shoot up from your chair, hellbent on oh fuck you stood up too fast. “You—”

Yoongi just watches as you grab the table for balance, wincing from the pangs in your head. Words grind through your teeth, unable to fully form beyond the light assaulting your brain.

“Like I said.”

Palms press against your forehead before you slump back into your chair. 

“It’s better in the long run.” 

Technically, he’s right. It’s better in the long run if you get used to this. 

But there’s no way you can do it again. Who does he think you are? Yoongi’s got to know that you aren’t planning on making this a daily habit. This isn’t you. You only killed to protect somebody. Killed to save the person telling you to basically get over it.

Fucking hell, this sucks.

Frustration and exhaustion sting the corners of your eyes. 

Eat. Build your strength and get the hell out of here. Deal with it deal with it deal with it.  

As you regrettably pick up your chopsticks, you don’t care if your tears season your noodles. And quite frankly, you don’t give a shit if Yoongi watches them fall, too. 

Because they’re liquid anger. Hot trails blazing down your face, hardening into sticky paths and dried rivers. 

“What were you looking for.” 

Your eyes slide up to regard him, his arms folded and brows low. Because of course he doesn’t care about your state, either. Of course he’d rather entertain his curiosity. “Nothing you need to know,” you mutter, banning him from knowing another truth. 

“Did you find it.” 

You swipe at both your eyes.

As spice coats your tongue, Yoongi keeps prying, “Something you needed to go all the way there for?” 

“Fuck off,” you dismiss, slurping and swallowing with ease. “I don’t have to answer you.” 

“You already are,” he responds, confident. “Now tell me. Is there one in particular you need?” 

Wait. You barely gave anything away, so how is Yoongi asking the right questions? There’s no way he actually knows what you were looking for. No way in hell.

This man is more dangerous than you thought. 

“Why do you even care,” is all you choose to say, more focused on your food now because above everything else, it’s quite fantastic. It somewhat reminds you of a past home, and you can’t help but escape to those distinct walls. “It’s irrelevant to you.”

“But I have what you want.” 

You take another bite before stilling, looking up to see Yoongi propping his head with roughed knuckles. “You’re lying,” you drawl to his smugness, trying to act as if he didn’t just figure you all the way out. Because he didn’t. There’s no way. “And I’m still leaving.”

“If you stay, I’ll show you.” 

When you leer over your soup, he simply stares back with no hint of emotion. 

And you’re so curious about what he means that you finish your whole bowl. 

When you push it forward, you understand exactly what Yoongi did. It worked perfectly, and you have to hand it to him even though he mangled your character minutes beforehand. “Thank you,” you offer some manners. “This was goo—”

The scrape of a chair cuts you off, and your sentence dies in midair as you watch your runaway partner vacate his seat. 

Good riddance.

He knows how to stay on your bad side, that’s for damn sure. 

But Yoongi simply heads back out to the balcony for another light. So you chalk up his swift exit to vices and not wanting to breathe your air. Or maybe he’s done with his fun and is already writing you off before you head out. 

Clearing your bowl from the table, you walk out of the bedroom and bring it to the large kitchen, noting with a scowl that it’s obnoxiously bigger than half your floorplan back home. 

Yearning pierces right through your chest. 

The elevator is right over there. 

You showered, you ate. You can leave as soon as you clean your dish.

Are you way too curious about what Yoongi’s gonna show you? Yes. But is that gonna stop you from getting out of here? No. 

Well. This robe is hugging your figure perfectly and feels way too comfortable to just use for an hour or so… Plus, if you ditched it now, Mister Morals will scorn you for wasting that away, too. 

How rude of him to assume that about you. Of course you aren’t wasteful. The only times you let things go are when you absolutely have to, like you should have back in that noodle shop instead of braving the back staircase. 

Scoffing to no one, you scrub your bowl in the sink, grunting explicatives and stabbing Yoongi with curses until you hear a distinct beep. 

Was that the elevator?

You cut the water off with a twist.

Cautiously, you make your way across the kitchen, peeking around the corner to appease your curiosity and spike your anxiety. 

A bellhop? Another grey uniform looking to and fro to survey the area. It’s the same person that sent a look of panic your way before you went up to the room. 

And your defense mechanism blares. 

But before you can hide behind the partition, their eyes lock onto yours. Arm outstretched, the staff is motioning for you to… join them? Why? 

You’re the one bunking with a gangster. Why does this person make you even more uncomfortable? This feeling is just like the one you had when you called the elevator the first time. Was your gut warning you then, too? 

Maybe it’s because you don’t like the staff thinking they can come in unannounced. Grey zone etiquette or not, you can’t see how this is ever appropriate. In fact, it poses so many safety concerns. How is this okay? 

Walking into the foyer, you rest a hand on a robed hip. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m the one trying to help you,” they whisper, harsh and with another swipe of their hand. “You have to get out while you can.” 

Wait. What do they mean while you can? “And why’s that?” 

Sputtering, the bellhop sticks one foot out the elevator while pleading and, for some reason, that pisses you all the way off. “There’s no time to—”

“Get. Your foot. Off my floor.” 

Is that fear in their eyes or surprise? “Oh, apologies. I didn’t realize you were… I thought—”

“Thought what?” Your arms fold, weight shifting to your other tired foot. “Speak up.” 

Frankly, you don’t know where this newfound energy is coming from. All you know is that there are certain things you still despise and this person is ticking all the boxes. 

“I thought you were taken, Miss. I’m here to save you.” 

Pausing, you grip your arms, feeling silk gather under your palms. 

There’s a lot you tolerate. Many things that a lot of people can’t. But someone assuming you’re the weak one that needs saving? There is no quicker way to lose your interest. 

Stepping towards the elevator, you unfurl your arms, robe swaying and billowing around your freshly showered legs. 

“Yes, that’s right. Come on, we can take you away.” 

Hand on the entrance, you lean forward. “You’re not taking me anywhere,” you command, finger pressing the button at your side. “And you aren’t coming back up here until I say so.” 

Slowly, the doors slide shut, your reflection two halves in the metal shine. 

Well. 

So much for leaving. 

You may spend more time here than you thought. 

With more thoughts swirling, you spin, heading back into the kitchen to pick up the same bowl you were washing. Hoping you and your gut made the right call. 

Yoongi’s a criminal and a madman. But he’s not… the worst. At least, not horrible enough to warrant someone coming up to steal you away.

Besides. Is Yoongi aware that staff can come and go as they please? He seems like the type of guy that would hate that. 

Staying vigilant seems to be a little more important now. 

It’s soon after, when you’re placing the dish somewhere to dry, that you hear noise in the living room beyond the countertop. Looking up, you see someone much more familiar enter the space. 

Hmm. Whatever’s in that duffle must be worth millions for Yoongi to lug it around everywhere. 

As he dumps it next to the couch again, you don’t choose to ask about it just yet. Only because you want to ease into it later when you’re both not at each other’s throats. And while you’re not reeling from another strange encounter at the elevator. 

So you go with a safer question instead, choosing not mention what just happened. “Is this whole floor… your place?”

Yoongi looks up. “Only when I need it to be.”

Interesting. “Does anyone else know about it—”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

You blink. “I mean. I don’t get by selling fruit cus I’m quiet.”

“You’re quiet with me.”

“And even then I get you to talk.”

Yoongi frowns slightly before moving away, more towards the sliding door leading out to another outdoor area. 

God, this place is obnoxiously huge. There’s still a whole other half you haven’t seen yet. 

When you peer out, you watch as he leans against the railing, seeming to look both up at the building and down at the streets below. 

Well. If you aren’t leaving anytime soon, may as well offer some sort of peace offering. Maybe the two of you just need to chill the fuck out. 

Rummaging through the kitchen, you manage to find some high quality beer in the fridge. On your walk to the sliding glass, you’re reminded of the time you gave him one before when he helped fix your cart. 

That was so long ago. 

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register Yoongi whipping a hand to his waist when you walk outside. But you catch the metal just in time. 

“It’s me!” you quickly alert before regressing back to annoyance, “Really…”

You’ve had way too much to deal with today. You don’t need a bullet in your chest to be another problem. 

Especially since his little maneuver showed a bit more skin than you meant to see.

Yoongi eyes you before his shoulders rest, and you stride forward to offer up the cold can in your palm. 

But you decide to hesitate while he goes to grab it, and you instead open it to have some. 

Ugh. High quality, your ass. This one is way too bitter. 

Your companion snorts as you make up an excuse, “I’ve had better.” 

“Do you even drink?” 

“Well, yeah,” you pout. Needing to prove it, you decide to keep the can. “Lemme try again.”

Somehow, this leads to you sharing the beer with him, tasting the mix of alcohol and smoke even after he tosses another cigarette off the ledge.

It’s not quite enough to forget, but it’s certainly helping. Observing the clouds so close and the city so far beneath your toes is extremely calming. It’s almost like you’re flying. 

“It’s different here,” you mention out of the blue.

“This sector?” 

“This high up.” Breathing in altitude, you sigh. “I’ve never been higher than my fourth story. It’s nice.” 

“It’s usually silent, too.” 

Your eyes slightly stab. “Whatever. You like having me around and just won’t admit it.” At this, Yoongi avoids direct contact. “Mmhmm. Don’t even try to hide it.” 

“You’re useful to me.” You freeze. “That’s why you’re here.” 

You shake your head. For someone deeming you useful, Yoongi’s pretty nonchalant about you dipping. Taking a tangy sip, you clarify, “But you don’t care if I leave? If someone comes to take me?”  

He takes the offered can. “Mm.” 

That answers that.

You should probably still tell him about what happened, though. His reaction could give more away than his words.

Instead, you drink in the night with your eyes. Knowing that you should know better about the company present. 

The more you converse with Yoongi, the more you pick up. And one of those sad facts is that he doesn’t give a shit about anything you do or don’t do. Because all he really cares about is what he needs. 

You can’t do anything to change him. Fix him. Whatever exists in fairytales. So you decide to take the night in stride. Not give a shit about him, either, per se. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you now. Not just about what he’s gonna show you, but about that duffle. You quite literally don’t have anything to lose anymore, so may as well go for the question you’ve been wanting to ask all day. 

“I was gonna ask for a cut of that,” you divulge with a head-tilt to the bag. “But figured you won’t even show me.” 

“Why not?” 

“Uhh.” You didn’t expect this. “You don’t like questions? You’re always secretive?” 

“Never talk to the streets, princess. They’ll snitch on everything you say.”  

“That’s deep,” you admit, taking a once full beer in your palm. “But I’m no snitch.”

“I know.” 

Your look carries a slight pang. 

“Come here.” Both of you walk inside as he plays with his lighter. When you round the couch, Yoongi dumps the bag right onto the cushions. “If you wanna see what’s in here, do it.” 

You stare before slowly walking forward and kneeling to unzip the bag. As your slide reveals the contents, you’re nervous about what you’ll see. 

But when it’s open, you freeze. 

It’s all…chil-don? Tons of money wrapped in sleek stacks with edges so… Crisp. New. 

Wait. 

These patterns. 

These are il-don? 

Holy fucking shit there’s no way these are real. This is currency seven generations old. The first ever of the established system. Worth more than anything in current circulation, especially in their pristine state. Forget being worth millions, these are next to priceless. 

You’ve never seen them like this.

“They’re some of the last in mint condition.” 

The shock value is so high you forgot you were alone. Slowly turning, your breath catches as you ask, “How did you know where to find these?” 

“Like I said,” he drones. “Streets talk.” 

You look at the bills before glancing back up. “Can I…?” 

Yoongi cocks a brow before angling his mouth. “Touch them? Do what you want, doll.” 

You blink at the name this time. Because him saying that with a fresh cig in his lips is making your stomach flutter. 

Picking up a fresh stack, you inspect the ancient pattern inlay with eyes wide, admiring how paper so old can have such detailed engravings. “These can’t be real.” 

“They are.” He shifts. “And most people never see one in their lifetime.”

You put the money back on the pile inside. Yes, these have got to be worth a fortune. But there’s nothing else in the bag? No drugs, no lethal substances, anything? “Wait, so. This is it?” 

Yoongi fully laughs before flicking his lighter again. “You want something else?” 

“No, I—” You back away. “There’s really nothing else in there?” 

Coolly, he lights up before taking the initial drag. “Nah.” 

Smoke spirals around you. “I dunno what I expected but it wasn’t that.”

Yoongi lets a wisp leave his mouth. You know it’s getting in your robe, but caring about the little things has now jumped out the window. “Whatever’s in that bag can feed half the city.” 

“What?” As you look, he walks over to what looks like a small section of a bar. “Is that why you stole it?”

“Stole it?” Yoongi grins and shakes his head. “Sure. That’s why we stole it.”

“We? Leave me out of this.”

“Too late.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You step forward in anger, but you only get a sound out before Yoongi straightens, aura blazing,

“I—”

“Say I do leave you out of it. Nothing happened tonight, according to me.” He discards his fresh light in an ashtray, watching it die before sliding his gaze your way. “Doesn’t mean whoever we just fought will suddenly leave you alone.”

Shit. He has a point. You ran for so long and fought plenty of those guys.

Is this what he meant? Getting used to that feeling? Maybe your consequence is joining the cycle of the damned, forced to kill in order to protect. Both others and now yourself. 

“But I’m… Just a nobody. A civilian, I…”

Yoongi walks until he’s in front of you, hand cupping your chin and voice whispering mortifying allegations in your ear, 

“You took a body for a Dragon, love. You’re not a civilian anymore.”

Your arms shove him backward without pause, face distraught as you watch his smirk bounce with his shoulders. His cackle echoes mad through the room, pinging the floors and piercing through your robe. 

Truthfully, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing one. So naked and exposed in the open for this man to see. “You’re despicable.”

“That right?” His mouth sets as his lids lower. “And what about the one that killed and kept running?”

What.

“There was a police car at the restaurant,” Yoongi continues, a reminder so sharp it slices clean. “Yet you didn’t turn yourself in.”

Your feet sink into the rug beneath. “That’s not…” 

With measured steps, he stalks forward, a harbinger of horrific realizations that you don’t want to hear, “You didn’t have to keep running. Didn’t have to get in that taxi.”

Stepping back, you find the room so stuffy it’s hard to move. “You—”

“Could’ve taken another train.” 

“Stop.”

“Could’ve stayed in that elevator.”

What the fuck is happening right now? 

Yoongi’s close. Very much too close, and the energy he radiates sets your instincts ablaze.

This is the man you’ve been pining over this whole time? If you ever get back home, you have got to remind yourself to avoid him at all costs. There’s nothing good for you if you stay. Danger surrounds every inch of him, and there’s no telling when you’ll take collateral damage.

“But you didn’t,” he delivers the final blow. “And you’re still here.” 

Lifting your chin, Yoongi grins slow when you yank away. 

“I should’ve never saved you.” Gaze finally locked, you growl from within, letting a monster loose, 

“I should’ve left you for dead.” 

Wait. 

Stop. 

This isn’t you. This isn’t who you are. You’re a helper. A healer. Those words came out so strange that you’re questioning how they left your mouth so freely.

Did you really mean that? Or was this some feeble attempt to hurt him?

Yoongi doesn’t seem phased. But you clearly don’t know him so it’s not like—

Something heavy and dark as fuck is placed in your hand, and you snap your eyes to his in utmost disbelief.

“Go ahead then.”

Oh, this man is psychotic.

“Be my guest.”

No fucking way you’re gonna do it. “Stop—”

“If you regret it, why waste time—”

“Seriously, I’m not gonna—”

Yoongi forces your fingers flush against metal as he holds the gun to his forehead, both eyes piercing right into yours with no hesitation whatsoever. 

And it is frightening. 

All anger from before flees as fear and intensity rush into its place. Your brain fizzles and cracks as you try to wrestle out of his grip, and you feel burning at the corners of your eyes. “Stop!”

“Why.”

“I’m not gonna shoot you, the fuck!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

Mercifully, he lets go, pistol thrown as you’re tugged forward with a—

“What’s stopping you,” he grounds out, formidable presence all-consuming. “Tell me.” 

You’re breathing so hard it hurts. “You”—a shaky heave—“You are out of your fucking mind.”

When you struggle from his grip, Yoongi pulls you even closer. Reacting in a rush, you propel your knee up to wrap around his side and twist. 

But he proves just as quick, gripping the bare skin of your leg as you shove him down against the sofa. Grunting, you both curve with the furniture, Yoongi locked onto your knitted, conflicted brows.  

“You regret saving my life,” he simply repeats to your frustration. “I gave you the chance to fix that.” 

“Shut up—”

“But your will is weak.”

“I swear to—”

“Guess I was wrong.”

Who the hell does he think he is? This guy—Yoongi, Agust, whoever the fuck—has no right to play with you so casually. 

But something else is swirling inside your ribs. Because through his cutthroat words and actions, this man is somehow stirring the deepest waters of your soul. Ripples rumble and stretch into waves, tugging your toes in undercurrents of obsidian. Dark. Primal. Hazardous. All you. 

Is it from being subjected to such a heavy dose of his power? 

Or is it because—even if just for a moment—he’s handing all that power to you?

Quite literally, you’re the one on top.

And Yoongi holds your gaze, unfazed by the way your robe completely spread open during your tumble. Or the fact that you have nothing beneath that silk. 

He could easily take over. From the feel of his build beneath your hands and between your legs, you know he can. 

But he’s not. There’s no hesitation. He’s legitimately giving you the choice and reveals no ounce of remorse.

This revelation courses through your veins, pumping a new kind of life into your palms. You have a shot at a criminal with a bag of il-don waiting to be snatched. And you know you won’t take it. 

And that alone alters the chemistry of your brain.

With more fear of yourself than anything else, you shake out, “If I’m killing you, it’s gonna be entirely my choice.” 

He’s laughing? You’re instigating a threat and he’s enjoying it? God, you are teetering on the brink of madness and another emotion that won’t dare be acknowledged. 

Tugging Yoongi up a notch, you proclaim to the glint of his eyes, 

“And when I do, you’ll die exactly how I want.”

Yoongi’s lips slowly, dreadfully spread, teeth shining in the dim lamp lights that sharpen half his features. When he speaks, you shiver. Because it’s a mix of pride and fear, sprinkled with a hint of alarm,

“That’s my girl.” 

The room quiets, your bodies locked in a way that you’ll remember years from now. Breaths. Your bare chest hovering inches above his. If there were bystanders, they would no doubt get the wrong idea. Because if things were different, and if this man underneath you wasn’t who he was, you’d entertain another type of ferality and not stop until morning. 

To be fair. That same dark part of you would still do it. 

But this is about the righteous part of who you are. The one that abides by the rules. The one that fights to keep days boring, uneventful, the same. 

So you quell that monster pacing in your core. 

One more exhale leaves your lips before you let him drop, sliding off his silken, tone form to quietly readjust your robe. Turning away, you focus on the night skies, wondering if the people back home are sound asleep as you should be. 

“My will may seem weak. But I don’t care what you think of me.” 

Sound is crisp again as Yoongi rises to his feet. Around you, the air starts to lighten, cold slipping delicately into your skin. 

Slowly tying the wrap at your waist, your words float to the ground, “Because I know who I am. And no one can take that from me, not even you.” 

His presence fills the space at your back. But it’s muted. Less intimidating. Or maybe you’re just at your limit because you admit a little more than you intend, 

“This world has already tried enough.” 

Both of you come to another standstill, two black robes staining a room full of white. Even time itself gives you space, slowing and circling until you’re ready for it to flow straight again. 

As a cloud shadows the light of the moon, you feel knuckles caress your neck. And Yoongi’s never sounded so calm as he starts, “They’ll come after you.”

You slightly turn. 

“You still want to go back?”

A pause. A nod.

His knuckles continue to glide along your neck, slipping down your back before traveling the swoop of your shoulder. Everything in your body thrums, silently quaking because you have no idea where this is coming from and you can’t say you hate it. 

Quite the opposite. And that scares you more. 

“If you do, you’re dead to me.”

Of course. You’ve seen and know too much. There’s no reason for him to show up to your street now, especially if tangerines are all he’s looking for. He can always find them anywhere else. 

But, for some reason, this still stings. In a way that irks even your reasonable side. Is it because of his touch? No. That’s only making you nervous from the fact that you probably aren’t… as experienced as he is. The uneasiness is wholly from your own limitations. 

“I’ll survive without you,” you whisper resolute, chest squeezing when he replies,

“I know.” 

The same fingers get bolder, tracing down your arm before sliding along the wrap at your hip. 

And you freeze. 

Because the tension is palpable. The power is intoxicating. It’s a new type of anticipation and you are fighting yourself to not give in. Don’t let everything get to your head. Don’t let anyone in again. Don’t stray onto a path you can’t quite navigate. 

But fuck, you kinda want to. 

Rocks slide against exposed skin when he decides to speak again. And it makes you wish the two of you were extraordinarily normal. Or that you at least knew what the fuck to do here because the attraction you feel is not as one-sided as you presumed. 

“What made you stay.”

A breath you didn’t know you were holding huffs out, and you swallow with difficulty. “I just…” 

Get it together. Keep up your guard. It’s proving so hard, especially when his touches spark fires along your limbs. But you have to. 

And therein comes another lie. “I wanted to know what you stole.” Gulping down the truth, you harden your resolve. “That’s it.” 

With more restraint that you want, Yoongi bunches silk at your pelvis, hitching your robe and your breath all at once. When his other hand slowly holds your neck in place, you can’t help but flinch, and his low hum pours lava straight down your chest, 

“What a shame.”

Oh. Is this how it ends? Did your gut get it all wrong? 

He could end your life with a flick of his wrist. You know far too much. You’re not useful anymore. 

“Someone will take you back tomorrow,” Yoongi murmurs, proving every single theory wrong. “After that, you’re on your own.” 

And just like that, he releases you to stand alone. 

Oh. You’re going home. 

Good.

This is good, right?

Your heart beats overtime, almost drowning out your entire thought process. The thumps and pulses seem to cut every string of consciousness short. 

What was that? What was any of that? 

Never mind. Nothing happened and you can keep it that way, for the better. Yoongi is risk draped in beauty, and once you’re back home you can cut ties with anyone like him for good. You saved him; he spared you. It’s over. 

…But do you want it to be? 

Yes. 

Of course you do. 

Clouds let moonlight shine again. 

When you arrive at an answer, you turn to find that Yoongi’s already gone, duffle and all shut inside his room with a muted click.

A flip switches as you let exhaustion take over completely, falling onto cushions that still hold his scent. Inhaling, you drift into darkness, wondering how your final decision will affect the rest of your days.

Whether awake or asleep, nightmares are real. 

Only this time, you aren’t quite sure if the blood and guts you’re seeing are yours or someone else’s. Can’t discern the limb on the ground from the limb on your torso. Screams echo and ping from all directions, a cacophony of death that has you scratching at mania to stay sane. 

Murderer. Murderer. A murderer that regrets who she saved. No, wait, that’s not true. You’d still do it again.

And you watch the same swing over and over. The same arc of finality. Those lifeless eyes. Closer. Closer. Sharper. Judging. 

You were wrong. Were you wrong? Running does nothing and doesn’t provide an answer. The ground under your toes gives out. 

How far are you straying? How low are you sinking? If you told your neighbors who you killed for, would they be upset or betrayed? 

They’d hate you. Their fingers aim straight. Their tongues fire bullets. 

They’ll hate you. Hate you. Hate you hate you hate you—

A room bursts into view as you jolt awake. Sounds snap silent, the hum of the air all you can hear as you rub your eyes. 

So much for sleeping. There’s no way you’ll be able to now.

Focus on something else. Anything else. The past cannot be undone, so live with the choices you made and deal with the faces that haunt your dreams. 

Staring into the dark, shapes and sharp edges slowly form, your vision sharpening with every passing second. Tiny pops and creaks tickle your eardrums, and Yoongi’s scent still lingers with your own. 

You don’t want to focus on him, but it’s better than what forced you awake.

A lot happened tonight. But also, nothing at all. Something is keeping you both together, tightening and squeezing the strings in your chest. But you don’t know if that’s from the adrenaline of today’s events, or from the pure shock of your unexpected reunion. 

There’s something else you haven’t considered until now. Despite his unorthodox and hellish methods, Yoongi did keep your head on straight. You showered. You ate. You drank. You inhaled fresh air. 

Your compass righted itself when you didn’t blow his brains out. 

The nothingness was all to your advantage. Was that all calculated, too? 

One part of you—the bright side of you—knows that it doesn’t matter. No matter how helpful he was tonight, distance is crucial. Stay away from people like him. They’re all too cunning to be kept close.

But if leaping that crevasse allows you to keep your mind off everything else? If you need to stop the bleeding, why not reach for a cure?

Your exhale shakes as your shoulders fall forward, self-deprecation destroying your brain because what the fuck are you thinking? This is nonsense. Madness. 

Maybe you’ve just been insane from the very start. 

Your breath quickens at the possibilities. The potential outcomes of what you’re about to do. 

This is the most solid decision you’ve made all night.

As your toes travel across plush, trek over marble, and arrive at their destination, the rest of your body quietly, nervously follows. 

Raising your hand, you listen for movement. When you find none, you softly knock and wait for what seems like an eternity. 

For nothing. 

All that worry for naught. Yoongi’s most likely fast asleep and not dreaming at all. 

Good. This is your sign to let it go completely. In the morning, you’re going back home. The nightmares will consume you and you’ll wake up everyday to brave the streets. Assassins will be on the hunt for revenge. You won’t be saved by the boy in teal. 

What a shame, indeed.

As you step to leave, you hear the door slowly swing.

And Yoongi emerges from behind, minted hair mussed over lowered lids and robe slipping down a tatted shoulder. 

Fuck everything. 

“I don’t regret what I did and I’d do it all again,” you admit with finality. To him, to yourself, to the ones you’ll disappoint back home. “And I refuse to get used to this feeling because it reminds me I’m still a good person.” 

Yoongi’s eyes don’t change as he stares. 

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

—

—

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a/n: once again, i cannot thank y'all enough for being patient and understanding as i go through life while working on this and all the other writing projects we have going on! it means the world, and even though there were some not-so-fun asks to get, the supporting and wonderful ones are what i will continue to focus on! so if you've ever left something sweet, thought provoking, encouraging, etc - thank you from the bottom of my heart! you're what keeps this writer going. a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[ddejavvu]

Tyler Owens and shy reader you say? Who gets flustered every time he looks at them? Who hides their face in his chest to “escape” his gaze? Tyler who wants to kiss her so bad and she’s so flustered.

Hide and Seek - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

Seeing Tyler Owens while out pumping gas was all you'd needed to know that you weren't the type of person to be capable of dating him. He was all outgoing smiles, signatures thrown here and there to an adoring crowd, and you'd tucked your head to your chest as if it would make the tank fill faster to your rental car.

Well, truck, really, because that had been the only vehicle the agency hadn't rented out yet. You'd needed the truck for only a day, just to get to work and back when your car was in the shop, but its gaudy red exterior had caught Tyler's attention and he'd called over to you from the opposite end of the station.

"Hey there, Red. Nice truck you got."

You'd never know scrutiny like you came to know when his entire crew of both teammates and fans turned to watch you, and he seemed to realize that you weren't up for all of the attention.

"We're breaking for ten," He'd called, and evidently that was enough to let his gaggle of fans disperse until their leader was ready to rev his engine again.

He'd hopped down from his own red truck with the stomp of boots on concrete, and you turned back to the pump desperately hoping he wouldn't talk to you. Unfortunately, a group of three people, him and two of his crew, started for you. You'd felt your heart rate pick up but the second they started to move with him he'd shoved them away, a playful maneuver but one that clearly said back off. That's how he'd gotten you alone, ducking his own head to speak with you instead of looking down his nose at you.

"Sorry if I freaked you out there. Didn't mean to get'cha all that attention if you didn't want it. This yours?"

He had whacked the side of the truck so hard you'd been unsure whether the rental agency was going to return it without hassling you for damages.

After a short conversation about the perils of emergency oil changes on a Monday morning, you'd left with Tyler's number that you'd been too scared to text until three days later, as well as a nagging feeling that you were the wrong sort of person to be talking to him.

You still feel it now, when he turns over in his bed to stare at you with his pretty eyes. You feel so terribly bashful even though you've been looking into the same eyes for three months now. You feel your face heating up against his pillow, and even in his barely-awake state he knows you're getting shy when you start adjusting yourself beneath the blankets.

"You're starin' at the sheets again," He observes, a soft smile on his face, "You're tappin' out already? We just woke up."

"I'm just cold," You lie, shifting the blankets around until you can handle meeting his eyes again. When you look up they're even more intense for the grin he's giving you, kind-hearted but all-seeing.

"You're still shy, even when it's just us, darlin'?"

"I'm more shy when it's just us," You laugh, just as honest as it is shaky, "Then there's no one else you're looking at but me."

"I'm starin' at you no matter who else is in the room." He murmurs, and when it only makes your bashfulness worse, he laughs gently and reaches out to pull you across the sheets towards him.

"C'mere. Can't have you runnin' away from me this early in the mornin'."

You allow yourself to be nestled quite snugly into his chest, but before you can relax you must allow yourself a moment's more mortification when you remember that he's bare-chested in bed.

"I can feel your cheeks burnin' up," Tyler laughs, and you feel his words more than you hear them as his chest shakes with laughter against your face, "Oh, baby, you're such a sweet little thing. How long is it gonna take for you to stop blushin' when we kiss?"

"How long are you gonna stay so handsome for?" You ask meekly into his chest.

You're gently, but unceremoniously pulled from his chest as he cups your face, dipping down to nudge his nose against yours.

"You're a flirt." He accuses, grinning from ear-to-ear, "You're a bold, brazen flirt and you're hidin' behind that shy demeanor, aren't you? Shit, now you're makin' me blush, darlin'."

"It's true," You breathe, laughing along though yours is more air than sound, "I just get shy. Like I forget just how handsome you are until you stare at me and then I get all shy again."

"Can't be nearly as handsome as you are beautiful, sweet thing." He murmurs, dipping down even further to press his lips to yours, morning breath and all, "But I've got enough boldness for the both of us. So if you need to hide after every kiss," He fondly notes the way you've planted yourself back in his chest, face ablaze, "Then I'll always be there to coax you back out afterwards. Deal?"

"Deal." You decide, but you're speaking into his chest so it's muffled.

He says nothing, but you feel a soft press of his lips to the crown of your head, and his pinky reaches down to interlock with yours where it rests against his chest, a promise sealed with a kiss.

[lalunanymph]

I BET ON LOSING DOGS

୨୧ an unexpected surprise throws a wrench in your relationship with ken

✧.* ken sato x fem!reader, reader is an uriko (beer girl for japanese baseball games), unprotected s/ex, accidental pregnancy trope, angst with comfort, reader gets harassed, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of injuries, slight ooc!kenji but this is MY interpretation of him, emi makes an appearance, talks about fatherhood, relationship context, flashback heavy, 8k+ words i am so sick for this man

✧.* dawn says: i am absolutely in love with this pathetic milf </3

Life as the girlfriend of Japan’s number one baseball player wasn’t as easy as people think it is. 

The news portals and papers call you a modern day Cinderella, swept from her life of being a simple beer girl, and right into the arms of Japan’s best player, Ken Sato.

Looking back, you never thought you would catch his eye. 

You, a simple Uriko girl trying to get enough commission to pay off your literature degree at a community college, and him, one of the best baseball players to ever grace Japan’s shore. The both of you were a mismatch made on the verdant fields of the biggest game in Ken Sato’s life—and you will never forget the day you first met him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the game will begin shortly! Please get to your seats and hang on tightly for the match of your life.” 

The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, echoing the cries and cheers from over 10,000 baseball fans coming to see this legendary playoff between the Giants and the Tigers. 

Working as an Uriko girl—or better known as a baseball girl—came with plenty of challenges. 

There were the heavy bags full of beer that you had to carry up and down the stands, sometimes weighing up to 10kg. The smiles you always have on, the makeup you wear to hide your eyebags from working two part time jobs so you can afford to pay off your literature degree; sweltering heat and a loud, rowdy crowd fuelled by beer from the other keg girls working this cutthroat job. 

Many of them were wannabe idols who perfected the art of cultivating a following on social media and had regulars in the palm of their hands. Only a few handful shared the same fate as you did. 

The truth was, you thought it was just another ordinary day at work when you overhear someone whispering excitedly behind the stands.

“I heard Ken Sato has come out of his break to play this game.” 

Your attention slips from adjusting the straps of your beer keg and you try to listen in on their conversation. 

“He is so cute,” one girl with braided pigtails swoons. 

“Totally,” another agrees, wearing a baseball cap backwards to show off her petite features and pouty lips. “And he’s never dated anyone since coming back to Japan. Maybe one of us could change that for him.”

She giggles, as if it's the funniest joke she’s ever told. 

You try hard not to roll your eyes. A man like Ken Sato would never go for one of these girls. He was the type to exclusively date models and actresses, not struggling Urikos selling beer on the stands.

But, you don’t dash their hopes, and you follow the rest of them in a line, plastering on a smile and mustering up the courage to charm potential buyers into being regulars.

“Ladies and gentlemen—let’s put our hands together for the Giants!”

The roar of the crowd behind the doors shakes through your sneakers, in tandem with the tripling speed of your heartbeat. Electricity sparks through the air, and you can feel it in between your teeth when the stadium doors open and everyone rushes forward, pushing you along the stream of girls ready to break their sales target.

“And Sato-san steps foot into the pitch!”

You step out of the shadows, into the piercing bright light of the open air stadium, its magnetic dome rippling above. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Ken Sato is back in his element!” 

You take a deep breath and catch a man’s eye. He nods at you and you smile, making your way towards him with a red cup in hand and frozen beer on your back ready to be poured.

Let the game begin. 

 “Ladies and gentlemen, Ken Sato is back in his element!” 

The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, echoing the cries and cheers from over 10,000 baseball fans coming to see this legendary playoff between the Giants and the Tigers. 

It’s the game of his life, and to say that Ken is nervous would be an understatement. He twists the bat in his hands, adjusts his batting helmet and steps onto the pitch. 

“Oi, Sato—remember, don’t lose your cool,” Coach Shimura sternly warns him before he enters the game, flinty eyes never once softening even when Ken shoots him a reassuring smile. 

“I got this in the bag, coach. Just wait and see.”

Shimura doesn’t scoff, though the corners of his mouth lifts slightly. After months of watching him play in the leagues, the older man can be assured of his star player’s credibility.

Giving him a two finger salute, the young man picks up his favorite bat and high tails it to the edge of the pitch. 

The crowds cheer, their cries reverberating right into his bones. He’s focused, eyes on the pitcher who assesses him from head to toe like he’s vermin on the bottom of his shoes. Ken resists the urge to smirk behind his visor, eyes on the ball and head in the game. 

“Sato! Sato! Sato!” 

He tunes out the cheers, breathing deeply when the pitcher winds his arm back, and the ball goes flying. Narrowing his entire mind on the incoming white blur, he bats and it collides with the hardwood, flying off into the distance. 

“And Sato nails it right out of the park!” 

“Here we go,” Ken mutters under his breath, lurching across the bases until he finally hits a home run. 

The crowd swells like his erratic heartbeat, cheering out his name. Ken gives them a wave, his handsome face plastered all over the big screens, and in the front of the stands, right in the VIP center, his father whoops, raising his cane in exuberance.

Just the sight of the old man fills him with warmth, and Ken doubles back, about to return to his position when a movement on the second bleachers catches his attention.

His sharp, keen eyes catch sight of a man pushing an Uriko girl, goading her on as she backs away, apologizing profusely. He pushes her again, and she stumbles back, dangerously close to the edge of the staircase where she could take a tumble and break her neck.

Ken doesn't know what compels him to lurch right towards her, jumping over the barricade and straight into the stands, much to the crowd’s horror. 

“... you rejected me over and over again…”

“I’m sorry but this is just my job!” 

The red-faced man puffs his chest, and if looks could kill, the poor beer girl would’ve been dead twice over. He’s twice as big as her, and the other spectators are too afraid to jump right in due to his sheer size. But, that’s never stopped Ken Sato before—in fact, bigger opponents were his speciality.

“Oi! Back away from her,” he growls, and before anyone can blink, he’s grabbing the poor, shaken girl and shielding her behind his body. 

The crowds are murmuring, the commentators having a field day announcing every movement of his diversion from the main game. The referee repeatedly blows his whistle, but Ken ignores it, his instinct to protect the weak more important than some league title.

Shimura muscles his way through the crowd, and for a second, Ken thinks he’s gonna blow up on him when the older man glares at the bulky man. 

“Get out of here before I call security on you,” he sneers. “Bullying some poor girl because of your delusions. Tch. Away with you!”

The onlookers jeer him, and he has no choice but to scurry away from the game, tail tucked in between his legs unless he wants to face the wrath of every Ken Sato fan. 

Later that day when you’re washing your face in a nearby restroom, trying hard not to have a full on breakdown that your reputation and sales were ruined, you stumble into a familiar figure who gives you a once over, his mellow voice resonating through you.

“Hey—you’re the beer girl from before, right?”

Ken takes one look at your red-rimmed eyes and clicks his tongue. “Ah. Crap. Must’ve been a horrible experience for you, huh? You’re making me feel bad, angel. You wanna get some food and then we can talk about it?” 

Sliding your eyes over his handsome face, you’re momentarily stunned by those high cheekbones and deeply unnerving violet eyes. His shapely lips and messy dark hair, coupled with his tall, slender build and broad shoulders, makes you suddenly realize that those girls outside the stadium doors were right.

Ken Sato is so cute. 

“I-I—” you stammer, and flush, looking away. Did he just call me angel?

He gives you a sheepish smile, devoid of the cockiness and pride you’ve heard most baseball players possess. 

“Sorry—too forward? I heard girls in Japan were more shy and reserved so you don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you’re uncomfortable—”

“No!” You exclaim, and then start to panic when the rejection settles in for him. “I mean—yes! Yes. I would like to get some food. With you,” you add lamely. “A-are we going now?”

Catching himself before he bursts into laughter, Ken nods, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sure. I know a great ramen place.”

“Sold,” you say, a smile playing in the corners of your lips. 

Maybe you might’ve messed up your commission for the week and would have to defer your dorm payment for another month, but none of it matters to you right now.

All you could think about was how sweet it would be if you could bring back the smile on Ken Sato’s face—perhaps make him laugh for real this time. 

“Let’s go for dinner, then,” he gestures for you to follow him, and you swear there are stars in your eyes; you can’t stop staring at him. “What’s your name, by the way?” 

“Y/N,” you mumble, and blink when he extends his hand, an easygoing grin on those perfect lips.

“I’m Ken. Sato Ken.” 

I know, you want to say, but tame down the fangirling, taking his hand. His palm is smooth, but his fingers have calluses on them from one too many rough tumbles on the pitch.

“Y/N,” he turns your name over in his mouth and you think it’s never sounded as beautiful as it does now. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You let go of his hand, feeling his warmth sinking past your skin, making your heartbeat kick up a notch. 

“It’s nice to meet you, too… Ken.”

The rest, as they say, is history. 

His large palm smoothes down your tummy, drawing you from the brink of sleep and back into a barely illuminated room. 

You crack your eyes open, one lid at a time, feeling him pushing your hair aside to kiss down the nape of your neck.

“Mhm,” your boyfriend’s sleep-drenched voice, still husky and rough, makes something deep inside of you throb. “Morning, angel. Did you sleep well last night?” 

Stifling a yawn, you nod, much too comfortable in his luxurious king-sized bed. Since coming clean on the dating rumors, Ken had whisked you away from your cramped dorm room to live with him right on the Azabu hills in his expensive, high-tech mansion.

You still went to school and did your assignments, but the biggest difference was you didn't have to worry about food or accommodation like before. 

“Like a log.” You lean into his embrace, loving how sturdy and warm his chest is against your back, making you feel protected and safe. 

“Good morning, Kenji and Y/N. Shall I prepare breakfast for the both of you? Eggs and toast or some pancakes?” 

Mina’s robotic voice chirps from somewhere behind Ken, and you feel him grab a pillow, tossing it over his shoulder. It thuds onto the floor, and you don’t have to look to know that the Sato family’s robot assistant has deftly avoided it.

“Give us some space, Mina,” Ken groans, burying his face into your hair. “It’s cuddle time. We’ll call you when we need you.”

“Alright. But, don’t forget that you have an interview with Tokyo Today at 11AM. Enjoy your morning, Kenji and Y/N.” 

You muffle the urge to laugh, turning around and drinking in the sight of his hazy, adoring violet eyes and sleepy face. Booping the tip of his nose with your index finger, you click your tongue. “Don’t be too mean to Mina. She was just doing her job.”

He grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek, breathing in a deep sigh. “Not my fault someone’s being so enticing today.”

“How can I be enticing?” You tease. “I’m just laying right next to you.”

Ken rolls his eyes, drawing the blanket down to expose your naked shoulder. “Um, duh. My super cute girlfriend is naked in bed with me. What else do you think is on my mind?” 

He loves how your nose crinkles when you laugh, fighting against the urge to kiss you all over for being so adorable.

You place a palm flat on his chest, exerting the slightest bit of pressure and he yields, shifting onto his back. The look of adoration on his face never wanes when you straddle his lap, your hair falling across his face. He pushes it aside with surprising tenderness, a huge palm cupping your face as he strokes the fullness of your mouth with his thumb. 

“I love you, you know that?” 

You kiss the pad of his thumb, basking in his adoration and your pure devotion for him.

“I know.”

Ken arches one dark brow. “Not gonna say it back? How rude.”

You giggle at his petulance, gathering his hands into yours and leaving soft kisses on his knuckles. Ken sucks in a sharp breath when you guide his hands to your chest, encouraging him to palm your heaving breasts. Those violet eyes darken with desire, shooting a dirty thrill right up your spine.

“Already so filthy in the early morning.” He doesn’t protest when you lift your hips, finding his stiffening length and giving it a few good pumps before lining it up to your soaked entrance.

“Just for you,” your feathery whisper gets him harder. 

Tease. You take him inch by inch, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from springing a high-pitched whine when your velvet walls choke his length. 

Your tender nipples turn into hard nubs underneath his palms, the planes of your body a feast for his eyes. 

Kenji thinks he’s never seen such perfection up close.

His large palms fold around your hips, and you let him guide you up and down his cock; controlling the speed and depth, completely pliant in his grasp. 

Ken makes love to you exactly like how he plays on the field: focused, determined and with a firm grip. 

Oh, baby. You mewl, crumpling forward so he can catch you, strong arms vining around your shivering form. 

The scent of sex and skin permeates the room, and you’re close enough that you’re starting to see stars behind your closed eyes. 

Baby, I can’t hold back, he grunts. Need you to come with me—for me. Let’s do it together, okay? 

Your thighs begin to tense, head tipping back. 

His violet eyes darken imperceptibly, drinking you in.

Ken Sato is so fucking in love with you he doesn’t know what to do with himself if you ever got hurt. 

Your soul reaches out to twine with his, your bodies impossibly close until you’re sure your skin is melting into his. 

A burst of white light rocks your entire world, and your universe goes black, filled with only the sensation of his lips on yours and his warmth filling you up.

Ken holds you tightly in the seam of his embrace, kissing your hair and rubbing his cheek all over you like an overgrown cat. You giggle and he joins you, hazily laughing at your hair poking out everywhere.

The moment doesn’t last because Mina pops her head back in, clearing her robotic throat.

“Kenji. 11AM. You have half an hour left to get ready.”

He groans, head thumping back onto the pillows, both your bodies hidden under the blankets so Mina can’t see what he’s been up to, though you’re pretty sure the super smart computer can sense the pheromone shifts in the air.

“Fine. Fine.”

Gently, he nudges you off of him, giving you a kiss on the forehead. Rummaging inside his night stand, he procures a sleek black card and hands it to you without a second thought.

“I’m gonna be busy all day, angel face, so I can’t keep you entertained.” His boyish grin sends flutters in your belly, making you instantly smile. “Go buy something nice and have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod and pull him in for another quick kiss; this time, Mina hovers by the doorway, her thin robotic arms arranged like a disappointed mother’s hands on her hips.

“Kenji—”

“Coming, coming,” he groans, and slips on his pajama pants and shirt, giving you a wink.

“Dinner tonight, angel face?”

“Like you need to ask.” You blow him a kiss and he catches it, pressing his palm flat over his heart, simultaneously walking backwards out of the bedroom. 

Once he turns the corner, you exhale, unable to scrub off the lovesick look on your face. 

Bringing his pillow to your face, you inhale the soft scent of his shampoo, forgetting the card and just wanting to bask in his presence a little while longer.

After a day of interviews, Kenji can’t wait to see you again.

He’s asked the chefs to prepare something special for you, a chirashi bowl and your favorite mochi to welcome you back from a day of shopping and classes.

His front door beeps open and you waltz right in, though he can tell something’s off. Your smile’s a little too tight in the corners, and he isn’t sure if the lighting is playing tricks or if your eyes are red-rimmed.

“Baby—”

“Ken, I need to tell you something.”

The truth was you’ve been feeling off the whole week—sleeping in too much, having rapid mood swings, going light-headed whenever you stood up too fast. But, the final strike was when you walked into a ramen shop this afternoon for a quick bite and literally gagged at the smell of freshly cooked rice—which never happens because you love rice more than life. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Fumbling in your backpack, you don’t look up, rummaging for the small test which has changed your life in a matter of minutes. You bring it to him, noticing his wide eyes and bloodless lips; looking like he’s gone into shock.

He plucks the test from your hands, scrutinizing the double pink lines that cut through him with more pain than any Kaiju claw ever could. 

Without another word, he sets the test down, storming past you and grabbing his leather jacket.

Your world falls apart at the seams when he can’t even look at you, the tufts of dark hair falling across his face being angrily pushed back. Agony rips through your soul, leaving you shell shocked at his reaction, your hands falling uselessly to your side.

“Ken—”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he cuts you off. 

You hear a mechanical whirl behind you, Mina coming to your rescue.

“Ken? Aren’t you going to have dinner with Y/N—?”

“Later,” he snaps at her, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen your tender-hearted boyfriend look this angry; a dark cloud hangs over him, thundering across this room and bringing you right into the eye of his disappointment.

Tears sting behind your lids, and you dash at those pesky droplets before they could fall, running after him.

“Ken, I’m sorry—”

“I need time to think.”

You grab at his sleeve, wishing he would just tell you what was bothering him.

��About what?” you shout in despair.

You’re being unreasonable with his request for space, but you can’t see beyond the fear of losing him after you’ve already lost so much: your parents to a Kaiju attack, your sister to a painful drug addiction. 

You can’t lose Kenji, too.

He tugs at his sleeve back, nearly making you stumble and fall flat on your face. You catch yourself in time, staring at him in pure shock.

Ken curses under his breath, and despite his cruelty, he steadies your shoulders, clasping onto you tightly. Those violet eyes are brimming with anguish, a pain he is unwilling to share with you. From being an open book whose pages you love to read and reread again, he’s now a subject you can’t possibly understand. 

“I need time to myself to think about what to do.” Glancing at the hovering robot, he sighs. “Mina, make sure she gets to bed on time. I’m going for a drive.”

Though she’s programmed to check her Master on orders that do not make sense, her sensors record the cadence of his tone, registering it as pure frustration.

“Of course, Ken. Y/N—come and have some dinner—”

You storm past him, ignoring his squeak of indignation. 

“Where are you going?”

Turning back, your lips pull into a terrifying sneer. “Doing you a favor and leaving first.”

“To where?” His exasperation makes you see red, and you don’t reply, huffing and pushing the door open, speed walking towards your old Camry. 

“Come on. You can’t be serious.” Kenji uses his longer legs to effortlessly catch up to you, grabbing your arm.

The drizzle outside turns into a light rush of rain, steadily soaking you from head to toe. Ken can’t help the flash of panic at the thought of you driving in such bad weather conditions. But, you’re understandably upset with him and can’t think straight—it was his fault for hurting you first.

Heartbreak radiates across your face and he flinches at the sight of tears welling in your eyes. His shoulders sag and he wants nothing more than to reach out to you and hold you tightly to his chest, but you pull away with a sniff and a shake of your head.

“I can’t believe I thought you would be there for me when I needed you the most.”

You tug yourself free from his grasp, opening the car door and rushing inside; giving him one last, stinging look.

Droplets of icy cold water trickle down his face, illuminated faintly by the green neon of your car’s dashboard. 

“Y/N, I…” 

He wants to open his heart to you, tell you everything about the man behind the facade. 

The wounded son, the struggling young baseball star, the giant hero fighting monsters and the dangers that haunt his waking moments…

But, he clams up, holding you back from the truth. 

You exhale brokenly. 

It was just like Ken to always keep you at arm’s length—hovering just out of reach. You’re not sure how long you can stay faithful and patient for him to finally let you into his heart.

“Goodbye, Kenji.” 

He watches your car speed down the driveway, round the bend and out of his life. His broad shoulders curl forward, and he wants so badly to kick his bike into gear and chase after you, apologizing for his mistake.

But the part of him that would always remain selfish, the one untouched by your goodness and the harsh lessons he’s learned in this life, nails him to the spot. 

If he doesn’t chase after you, maybe you might change your mind and get rid of it yourself. 

He shakes his head, a wave of disgust rising in him.

Is this who you really are, Ken Sato? A coward? 

“Ken? It’s raining. Don’t you want to come in?”

Mina’s concern breaks through his destructive thoughts and he sighs. “Mina, do you have a view on her? Where is she going?”

The robot pauses, scanning through the city’s data systems. “She’s right on Odori-chome. Rounding the bend to Takayo Dorms. It looks like she’ll be staying with a friend tonight.”

As much as he loathes the idea of you being pregnant and having to sleep on some poor college student’s floor, Ken knows he has to give you space or else you’ll implode. 

“Okay. If she calls, let me know immediately. She’s pregnant—” He chokes on that word, and Mina gives a concerned whir. “And I’m worried. I’ll see her tomorrow and…” The young man trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Mina, I’m scared.”

She extends one robotic arm, guiding him inside to warmth and dryness, the doors automatically closing behind him. Ken staggers to the couch, kicking the bottom compartment open and finding a can of his favorite Asahi on hand.

He cracks it open, drinking deeply while Mina floats next to him, vigilant and listening.

“Was dad ever scared when mom broke the news to him?”

To his surprise, Mina chuckles. “Why don’t you call him up and ask him yourself?”

Ken considers it, glancing at his watch. Professor Sato was probably already in bed by now, and he didn’t want the old man grilling him on his poor life choices so late in the night.

“... I’ll do it tomorrow. After the playoffs.”

Mina titters and floats in front of him. 

“Whatever mistake you think you’ve made Ken, I know you will have the courage to solve it. You are not like the person you were before—you’ve grown. Changed. And when the time is right, everything will fall back into place.”

Her words marginally comfort him, relieving him of the heaviness in his chest. Ken flashes her a weak smile, drooping his head back against the sofa. He hopes to every god above—both baseball and Kaiju deities—that she’s right.

That no matter how things ended between you two tonight, it will never leave a permanent scar on the future.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy you said you were seeing?” 

Chisa, your roommate from months ago when you still lived near campus, points at the shoddy screen of her twice broken down TV. She’s sipping on a beer while spreadsheets and blueprints litter around her—remnants of last night’s cramp study session which was interrupted by your unexpected return. 

You lift your head from her couch and true enough, the devil in the form of Ken Sato’s confident smile appears on the screen, making your stomach turn and heart twist.

Flopping back onto the hard couch, you sigh. “Yeah.”

Chisa rakes a hand through her platinum blonde hair, stifling a yawn. “You know what—I get it. I would be absolutely shattered too if a hot, successful and rich man dumped me for getting pregnant. You just can’t win everything in life.”

You want to throw a pillow into her face for such harsh words, but a part of you—that small, terrified part—has to agree. 

“So, are you going to keep it?” 

Her sudden question makes you wish you never asked her for a favor in the first place. While Chisa was friendly enough, it was her sharp tongue and blunt nature which often led you two into mini arguments back when you were still living with her.

“I don’t know,” you tell her truthfully, sitting up and feeling a pang of hunger course through you. “It’s not like I can afford a baby right now without—” Your throat swells, the words caught behind a lump.

Chisa has enough grace not to comment on the tears glossing in your eyes. She turns her attention back to the screen to let you rub them away, raising the volume to drown out your quiet sniffles.

The both of you watch the sports segment—her, completely engrossed, and you numbly tracking Ken's every movement on the pitch. It’s a livestream from one of his games happening this morning, the very first game you won’t be cheering him on from the stands.

Without much thought, you touch your belly, wondering if the little life in there could see his or her daddy on screen. The reality that this would be the only way they could meet their own father makes you tear up again, and you reach for your dead phone, needing to at least hear his voice again. 

It didn’t matter if Ken Sato didn’t want you in his life or if he refused to acknowledge the child you’re carrying as his. You just needed to know he would still be there for you.

Hooking it to a cable, you switch your phone back on, and instantly, a stream of messages swarm in.

I know you never liked it whenever I asked Mina to keep an eye on you, but she told me you’re rooming with a friend. Chisa, right? I hope she doesn’t make you sleep on the floor.

Another text. 

Yikes. Reading that again, I sound like an absolute dick. What I meant to say was that I hope you’re comfortable and you can rest well. I know the way we ended things was messy to sum it up, but I really hope this wouldn’t be the last time we see each other. 

The last text, sent around one in the morning, three hours after your epic fight, reads:

I miss you. Goodnight, baby. Sleep well.

You lift your gaze to the TV again, and start to notice the dark circles under his eyes. The hard set of his mouth. Ken still loves me—he still wants this. Your heart leaps, and you turn your attention back to the screen, typing out: 

I miss you. I’m sorry. I 

A sudden tremor rocks the house, and your phone goes clattering to the ground. Chisa’s loud yelp rings through your mind as the shakes get more and more intense, as if it's getting closer.

Outside the dorms, screams erupt and alarms blare. The symphonic pattern of the warning is unmistakable: there is a Kaiju nearby.

You lurch to your feet, dragging Chisa by the arm, jolting her into action. 

The sound of hundreds of feet running in one direction burns through your mind; Chisa’s arm is a constant around you as she drags you down the road, trying to find shelter from the impending danger. 

It’s a lizard or moth hybrid with a wide wingspan and sharp rows of teeth. You’ve seen news reports of Kaijus before, but you’ve never dared to think you would see one up close. Spikes adorn its tail which goes crashing into buildings and houses, debris raining to the screaming crowd below like a reckoning halestorm.

Car alarms blare, in tandem with the rising panicked screams of hundreds of students and teachers who were caught off guard by this sudden attack.

“Look!” Someone yells, and in the distance, you see a human-like shape approaching fast. 

“Ultraman!”

“He’s here!” 

“He’s here to save us!”

Chisa, whose lips are bloodless and cheeks pale with fright, leads you up the stairs of the business school building, where you both can find higher ground to avoid the falling debris.

In your panic, you trip on a large rock and tumble to the ground, a loud, ominous crack resounding throughout this concrete cube you’ve both locked yourselves in.

“Shit!” Chisa bends down to inspect your ankle. She tries to lift it, but a searing pain cuts through your entire body, your shriek of agony making her flinch. “Fuck. Oh, fuck. This isn’t good. This isn’t—”

Boom!

The doors of the building fly off, and the monster sticks its muzzle inside, sniffing around for its prey. Having scented you and Chisa, it releases a loud screech, and before both of you could even blink, the roof flies off, its sharp talons reaching inside and grabbing you. 

The sudden loss of gravity strains your broken foot and you scream in agony and fear.

“Y/N!” 

As the monster lifts you right to its face, you think—this is it. 

Every nerve in your body is frozen, your mouth falls open and you might’ve screamed—you can’t hear yourself or feel your body or your hands or even your broken foot anymore.

This is how I will die. 

“We interrupt this game to announce that there’s a Kaiju attack nearby. All civilians are requested to proceed to the nearest emergency exit. We interrupt this game to announce—”

As the stadium erupts in chaos, Ken hears the worst news his nightmares could conjure when someone screams: “The Kaiju—it’s attacking Takayo University!” 

His mind goes into overdrive, his body catching up as he feels the familiar muscles stretching and pulling, turning him into a 50-foot gargantuan hero. Mina chirps to life, and he’s never heard a robot sound so serious before.

“Ken, Gigan is approaching Takayo University. I can’t seem to get a hold on Y/N’s signal. I think her phone is switched off.”

Damn it—damn it all to hell! 

He pushes his body to the max, racing towards your direction, hoping against all hope that you were somewhere safe. 

The young hero wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you.

“Her messages were all gray yesterday. Her phone’s out of juice,” he snaps back. “Run a search on Chisa’s signal. They should be together.”

“Alright,” Mina whirs. “Chisa’s signal: located. They’re at the Business Faculty Park. I have sent you the coordinates.”

A flash of numbers and lines appear in front of him. Ken reads them quickly and nods. “Got it. Mina, alert dad and tell him Y/N might be harmed. Prepare the base, if needed. If she’s gone, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Mina doesn’t comment on his language—she chirps back, “Noted. Calling Professor Sato now.” 

He sees it then—Gigan the monster who’s stomping around and has something in its grubby claws.

“Mina, I see it. I—”

Ken thinks the light is playing tricks on him. There’s a flash of a familiar sheen of hair, a smaller figure held inside Gigan’s monstrous grip.

“Mina, enhance visibility—what is it holding?!” 

The sight enlarges, and Ken gasps. His shock turns into anger, and he’s taking off towards the beast, not caring of anything else in his path as he summons all his anger into a fist and knocks the giant lizard’s head backwards. Gigan’s grip loosens and Ken rushes forward to catch you, holding you tightly to his chest with one hand. 

With the monster down for a moment, he glances at his palm, unfurling his fingers to find your pale, frightful face staring right at him.

“Ultraman,” you gasp, and his heart breaks when he notices streaks of tears running down your face. 

You must’ve been scared shitless for your life.

“Are you alright?” The tenderness seeps through his tone, and he can’t fight back the cresting wave of loathing and self-hatred when you wrap your arms around your midsection, nodding tearfully.

“I-I’m fine—look out!” 

He holds you to his chest, careful not to crush you in his grip as he spins around, deftly avoiding Gigan’s tail as it careens right into his face. The Kaiju raises itself on its hind legs, releasing an earth shattering roar.

Ken cringes back. He needs to find you a safe spot; he can’t bring you into battle like this.

Sprinting away from the carnage, all the screams and fear fade into the distance, his mind hellbent on getting you to safety.

Finding a relatively high rise building that’s been torn apart by the Kaiju and left for ruin, he gently unfurls his hand, placing you back on solid ground as if you’re a Lego figure he needs to safekeep.

You drop to your knees, unable to hold yourself up. Ken sweeps his gaze over you, and without thinking, says: “Mina, run a scan on her. Is she safe?” 

Loyal to a fault, she follows his orders, coming to a hard pause when your screech reaches both their attention.

“Mina?! Hang on—”

Despite his sheer size and how tinier you are in comparison, Ken flinches when you march up to him, looking right into his glowing eyes.

The masked hero whose identity has been hidden since the day he assumed the role of Tokyo’s protector, freezes like a deer caught in headlights and for a moment, nothing exists in this world besides your eyes on his. You reach out, tips of your fingers caressing his armored cheek. 

As if an unspoken truth comes to light, your eyes widen, and you touch both hands onto his cheek, skimming them across his nose. Those wide, luminescent eyes slip close, like he's enjoying your touch.

“It’s you.” Your choked gasp tears at his soul, and Ken opens his eyes to find you crying, a palm pressed right to your mouth. “Oh my God. It really is you. It—”

Your knees buckle, unable to hold yourself upright to such a heavy truth. You slide to the ground and he reaches out a hand, letting you lean against his much bigger palm. His heart is beating so fast, he has to remind himself to breathe so he doesn’t transform in front of you and can’t protect the rest of the civilians from Gigan.

“Ken,” you say his name like a prayer, curling your much smaller fingers around his ring one, feeling the smooth armor of his alien skin under your touch. “Ken. I knew something was off about you but I—”

This pure moment of ecstatic discovery is cut off by a loud screech. 

Ken hears Gigan approach and he’s about to urge you to be safe when you lurch to your feet and stumble towards him.

It’s a split second of unadulterated heaven opening its white, pearly gates when your head touches his gargantuan forehead. You breathe and he breathes, the both of you suspended in this time and space where it's just the two of you in this world—human and beast, lover and monster. 

“Come back to me.” 

That’s all you say, all you have the time to elucidate before he’s ripped away by Gigan’s claws. 

Your cry pierces through his soul, and before he falls, he casts a protective shield around you, trapping you in a blue bubble of safety. 

But, it’s a miscalculated move. 

Gigan’s tail whips around, knocking the base of the building. One second, Ken’s eyes are locked on yours, and in the next moment, the entire roof falls on top of you.

“Nooooo!” 

Ken fights out of the monster’s grasp, using his sheer strength to dig his fingers into the creature's mouth and tear its entire head clean off by its jaw. 

Ending its life for daring to hurt yours.

This is it. 

He doesn’t care that his father would call this cruel—doesn't care for the mess and press comments calling him unhinged or for the KDF commending him on his efficiency in killing off a Kaiju.

This is his entire universe coming to an end. 

The tap tap tap of Professor Sato’s cane on the steel floors of the family’s underground base barely rouses Kenji from his vigil by your sickbed.

From his vantage point, Hayao easily notices his son’s sunken eyes, the unshaven chin and exhausted slump in his shoulders. Ken is holding his phone in one hand, occasionally glancing at a message on the smeared screen. His sharp eyes catch an unfinished message, glossing over it as Ken finally hears his footsteps and pockets his phone hastily.

I miss you. I’m sorry. I

A heavy weight settles in his chest like grease, and the older man exhales a sigh.

Without another word, he takes a seat next to his weary son, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Kenji, you’ve been down here for days. You need to see the sun—stretch and eat a proper meal.” 

He turns those solemn, violet eyes he passed down to his son onto the faint pallor of a young woman resting in a medically-induced deep sleep inside the emergency pod, her chest rising and falling slowly. 

Your vital stats on a holographic board floats in front of him, and Hayao stifles a sigh when he sees a tiny, bean-shaped blob hovering in another panel, its features barely formed but already so dear to him. 

Kenji can barely look at the vitals of his unborn child, eyes closed and head hung heavily as if the weight of the world drags his shoulders down. It might as well have, judging from the mess Hayao had to clean up when his son was too emotionally strained to handle the aftermath of Gigan’s attack.

“I can’t leave her side,” he replies monotonously. 

Hayao recognizes that despair Kenji exudes, having experienced it many, many times over his twenty plus years of being a father. 

Unexpectedly, he chuckles, and Kenji raises his head, finding his father’s expression faraway, nostalgia glistening in his rheumy eyes. 

“Oh, I remember the time your mother broke the news that she was expecting you.”

Any mention of Emiko would draw Kenji’s attention like a moth to a flame. His son listens, patiently waiting for him to reveal the next part.

Hayao smiles and shakes his head. “Just like how you reacted, I was stunned. I had to sit down when she passed me the test. It was the first time she’s ever seen me speechless.” Grasping his son’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze, the older Sato sighs. 

“Kenji, there comes a time in every man’s life when he has to sit down and evaluate if he’s the right fit for fatherhood. Any man can be a father, but it takes a noble, patient, and kind-hearted man to be a dad.”

He continues. “Children aren’t easy. Human children, that is. Kaiju ones grow too quickly and already have a set path due to their nature,” he chortles at the memory of Emi, and Ken can’t resist smiling at that. 

“But, babies… They test us. Show us what we lack and how imperfect we are. They have their own dreams, needs and wants. They’re loud, messy and take up so much of your heart, thoughts and peace. But, despite all of that, they’re our hopes and dreams.” Hayao chuckles. “If anyone were to ask me what my greatest legacy is, I would never say ‘Ultraman’ or the research I’ve done over the years.”

Ken listens to him raptly, violet eyes wide and waiting. 

Hayao finally looks at him, and in those similar purple orbs, he finds a kindred spirit—someone who knows his burdens inside and out because he’s lived through them all for half of his life.

“My greatest legacy is you, Kenji. My son.” 

A wizened finger taps on the screen, and the room fills up with the echoing pulse of a second heartbeat, fainter like its coming from the bottom of the ocean. But, it’s as strong as his own, and in that, Ken feels the anger, despair and disappointment he holds for himself slowly dissipating like steam on a hot day.

“And after seeing how much you’ve sacrificed and learned from raising Emi, I know this baby would be so lucky to have you as a dad.”

Hayao gets to his feet with slight difficulty, patting Ken’s shoulder. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Kenji. It will all work out just fine. Take it one day at a time, alright?”

Ken wants to ask about the neverending dread, if his father ever feared putting his family in danger—the perils of parenting and how he’s going to juggle baseball, Ultraman and being a dad (a real one, this time) all at once.

Like he’s heard his son’s uncontrollable thoughts, Hayao turns back to give him one last piece of sage advice. 

“Everything will be okay. You are Kenji Sato—your mother’s son and my son. You will never be alone.” He glances at your resting form. “And she will never leave you. A woman who readily accepts our family’s duty and burdens is a rare gem indeed, son.”

“But, mom did the same,” he blurts out, brows knitting together. “She accepted you with open arms, too. How can you say it’s rare when it has happened before?”

Hayao’s eyes sparkle as if Ken has finally found the answer to his perpetually troubling question.

“That’s why I married her.”

He leaves Ken alone to ponder his words, the doors closing behind his frail form. 

The young man turns back to your pod, placing a hand over the reinforced glass, right over your belly.

Before he can stop himself, he presses his forehead against the cool metal, sighing.

“Well, you heard him,” he mutters. “The second you wake up, baby, I’m locking you down—there’s no shaking me off this time.”

A click. A whir. 

The world slowly comes back to focus and you furrow your brow, biting back a groan. Your body faintly pulses with pain, like it’s remembering the trauma you suffered through a five year memory fade.

But, your limbs work, and it doesn't hurt to breathe. 

“Hey, you’re awake.”

That voice… 

You pry your eyes open and the second you recognize his face, you think you could break down and cry. Soft violet eyes appraise you, slender fingers reaching out to tenderly graze your cheek.

“Ken…” 

He catches your embrace, holding you so tightly you think you might suffocate. The feel of his arms around you is like coming home after a long day, and you think he might feel the same way, his heartbeat thudding erratically under your cheek.

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” he apologizes over and over again. It takes all of your willpower not to tear up at the look of defeat on his face. You cup his cheek, bringing him closer so both your foreheads can touch. 

“It’s alright, Ken,” you murmur, free hand running through his thick, raven locks. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He cradles your tummy at the reminder, looking like a puppy that’s been kicked to the curb. 

“I was so mean to you. And to Peanut. I’m so sorry—”

“Peanut?” You blink, and he doubles back, scratching the back of his head.

“I, um… may have given the baby a nickname while you were, uh, recovering.”

Your lovely, silly boyfriend thought you would be angry when it is the furthest from the truth. “Peanut, huh?” 

You place your hand over his, drinking in this moment of having your entire family right here, safe and sound. 

“I like it. Peanut.” Your smile is saint-like, warm like the first sun rays breaking through a long, dark night. “Peanut is perfect for him or her.” 

He doesn’t deserve the grace and forgiveness you’ve shown him and Kenji thinks that for the rest of his life he wants to atone for all the wrongs he’s ever committed. 

Your health is his priority, and kick-starting this renewed promise to you, he’s there every step of the way during your recovery—feeding you, bathing you, helping you regain your ability to walk without needing a crutch, taking you to physiotherapy classes so you would be mobile again after breaking your leg. 

He even shows you Kaiju Island with his dad, Professor Sato and him catching up with a now one year old Emi who’s grown into her wingspan and new abilities. At first, you were terrified to meet the Kaiju baby your boyfriend once raised, but the moment she scented you, she was all over you like an overly-friendly cat.

Her beak presses against the barely-there swell of your belly, and she coos in delight.

Looks like Emi is happy to be a big sister. Professor Sato laughs at that, thumping his son on the back. 

Siblings—Kaiju and a human—I’ll have to trash my entire research thesis because nothing can compare to this!

You move back in with Ken, ditching your old dorm and studying from home to accommodate your growing belly and fatigue. Your lecturers were understanding enough, though you suspect the Ken Sato’s reputation was enough for them to give you some leeway.

Ken reduces his time spent on the pitch to be home with you and the baby, catching the press’ attention who start to wonder if the great Ken Sato is cracking yet again.  Eventually, it's his old frenemy, Ami, who spots him leaving a prenatal clinic with you one rainy morning after tailing him for days. 

Your boyfriend literally has to bribe her with two months worth of free Tonkatsu dinners on his card before she lets the scoop go, giving you a sympathetic look that makes you laugh and Ken indignant. 

Life was back to normal—or, as normal as it could be after finding out your boyfriend is literally a 50-foot alien superhero who fights monsters. 

One night where you’re both just lazing around on the sofa, Ken decides to show more of his world to you, and tugs your hand, leading you to the underground base which he affectionately dubs his ‘mancave’. 

There, he asks Mina to pull up an old recording of Emiko on the stands and officially introduces his girlfriend to his mother. 

“She’s beautiful, Ken.” You approach her with a fond smile, and his arms wrap around you; heart filled with pure happiness at the sight of his two favorite women in one room. Ken kisses the top of your head and then sighs. 

“I wish you could meet her, baby. She would’ve loved you to the moon and back.”

He tells you of the efforts to retrieve her from a wormhole; how he spends everyday wondering if the next time he sees his mother, he’ll be just as old and gray as her. You’re there for his every rumination, every fear. 

“My parents separated when I was really young,” he confesses while you’re both lying in bed in each other’s arms, giving you another piece of his childhood that you welcome with no judgment. “I don’t want to be like my dad—putting Kaijus or my career first that I lose the both of you.”

At those words, you take his face in your hands, looking him in the eye as you shake your head. “You will never lose me, Kenji Sato. I’m yours and you’re mine. We’re in this as a team and we’ll see this through.” Echoing his father’s advice, you grin. “Let’s just take this one day at a time, okay?”

With his past revealed and double identity known, it’s your turn to be there for him in a different way. 

When the voices of doubt get too loud for him, you don’t let him wallow in his misery for long, encouraging him to teach you how to bat a ball or letting him press his cheek to your growing tummy so he can feel Peanut moving around. 

You meant every word you said to him that night in the tender darkness: you were both a team. No matter how bad the storm hits, you would weather it together. 

One day, without you expecting it, Ken proposes to you while you’re both watching a movie.

“I can’t walk down the aisle!” You pout, and he’s taken aback, thinking you’re flat out rejecting him when you point at your nose. “My nose will be all squished and the photos will come out ugly,” you whine. “Pregnancy noses are a thing,” you try to convince him as he bends over in laughter.

“Baby,” he wipes the tears from his eyes, broad shoulders shaking with repressed mirth. “Squished nosh or not, I still love you, squirt.”

He removes a simple, velvet box from his pants pocket and reveals a ring with your birthstone and his on it. You whisper about a hundred ‘yes's’ in response to his “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”; tearing up when he slips the ring onto your left hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately.

“Have I ever told you I love you so, so much, baby?”

Though you have no idea what’s in store in the future with a man who can turn into a superhero, and a whole new world of monsters, baseball and parenthood to navigate, you thank your lucky stars that he’s right beside you for the journey. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, the feel of his smile on your skin like the embrace of home.

“I love you.” 

“Hah,” you look up, starry-eyed and in love as you push his bangs out of the way. “I love you, too, Kenji Sato.”

— feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim my plot points, structure and elements of work as your own.

[count-on-mi]

Changing Partner (Momo, Jihyo, Chaeyoung)

Kinkotber One Night Special

NA: The smut is about the orgy between the members and their real life boyfriend, stay away if you don't like it. Enjoy if you have any interest.

"Ah..." Momo was putting hot water in the bathroom and taking off her clothes. Suddenly, the black lace bra on her chest was pulled off by a pair of big hands. Momo yelled and quickly hugged the white breasts that popped out, but the big hands didn't let her go. They ruthlessly pulled Momo's hands away from her chest and rubbed Momo's snow-white and plump breasts vigorously.

"Ah...senpai...you...stop it...no...I told you to wait for me on the bed..." After a while, Momo couldn't bear the pleasure and succumbed to Zion.T's caress.

Zion.T ignored Momo's questions and continued to caress Momo's soft breasts with one hand. He hugged her slender waist from behind with the other hand and brought his lips together. Momo also took the initiative to kiss Zion.T's lips. Zion.T was tough. His cock was also pressed against Momo's petite ass through a thin black lace panty.

Couples who have been together for a long time will inevitably get a little bored, and they are both in the entertainment industry, a circle full of temptations. To avoid an affair, it is better to adjust their lives through wife-swapping with mutual understanding and enjoy the freshness and excitement. At the same time, it can also stabilize the relationship between the couple, so as the eldest brother Kim Heechul proposes it at the party, the three couples Kim Heechul, Momo, Zion.T, Chaeyoung, Kang Daniel, and Jihyo discuss it for a while and then made an appointment. On this day we came to the hotel together.

Kim Heechul, Zion.T, and Kang Daniel each played with the key cards in their hands. After all, Zion.T and Kang Daniel were trying it for the first time not long after they started dating. There were expressions of excitement and anticipation on their faces. Momo, Chaeyoung, and Jihyo each chose a room and went in to wait, while Kim Heechul, Zion.T, and Kang Daniel randomly drew room cards.

"Ahem... Then I'll go in first... Don't wait too long... It's not good to make women wait too long..." Kim Heechul skillfully walked into the room, and that number was on the room card.

Chaeyoung has a rigorous upbringing. Normally, she doesn’t have so many men scheming with her, and she doesn’t have to accompany sponsors to socialize compared with her teammates. She has only done it with her previous boyfriends. This time, she agreed to participate because she was curious and tired of the same sex. Now she is feeling nervous and looking forward to it. Jihyo couldn't even remember how many men he had sex with, including her previous boyfriends, bosses, etc. However, it was his first time to participate in this special event. She was still very nervous. She sat by the bed and waited, still thinking about whether to take a shower first. On the contrary, Momo is familiar with many people sitting by the bed with a glass of wine and watching TV, waiting for who will open her door.

"Bump..." The door to the room opened with a sound. From the corner of his eye, Chaeyoung saw that the person who walked in was Kang Daniel. He was her junior but older than herself. Although she had seen him several times, she was not familiar with him. When she saw Kang Daniel, Chaeyoung's heartbeat became faster and faster as he got closer.

Kang Daniel's mood became more and more excited as he got closer to Chaeyoung. Kang Daniel knew that he was the latest to debut among everyone today. No matter which beauty he met, he was a junior. However, as a man, he still had to take the initiative and sit next to Chaeyoung intentionally.

Kang Daniel felt Chaeyoung's breathing quicken and her face flushed. Kang Daniel slowly approached Chaeyoung and was about to kiss Chaeyoung's sexy red lips, but Chaeyoung quickly turned her head away.

"I'm sorry...I...I..." Chaeyoung also knew that she had lost her temper. She verbally agreed but her body automatically refused.

"It's okay...I'm so nervous...not to mention you, senpai...let's have a drink first..." Kang Daniel comforted Chaeyoung gently and considerately, stood up, poured two glasses of red wine and handed one to Chaeyoung.

"Nervous?... Excited, right... How can you men be nervous if you're not a virgin..." Chaeyoung took a sip of wine and calmed down a little, then joked.

"Really... otherwise, senpai, look..." Kang Daniel stretched out his hand holding the wine glass, but his hand kept shaking, and the wine in the glass also swayed violently, which looked very funny.

"Hee... hee... hee..." Chaeyoung liked this kind of physical comedy very much, and she slapped Kang Daniel's body with her hands while laughing.

After the two chatted for a while, Kang Daniel tentatively touched Chaeyoung's arm with his elbow. Seeing that Chaeyoung had no reaction, Kang Daniel boldly took a step further, holding Chaeyoung's slim waist and moving closer to him. Seeing Chaeyoung's whole body tremble slightly and her eyes closed slightly, it seemed that she agreed with Kang Daniel's actions by default. Kang Daniel also hugged Chaeyoung and kissed her together. Kang Daniel even inserted his tongue into Chaeyoung's mouth, two tongues continuously entangling.

While kissing Chaeyoung, Kang Daniel gently laid Chaeyoung's body back. Kang Daniel slowly pressed his body on Chaeyoung's body. Kang Daniel slowly unbuttoned Chaeyoung's shirt one button at a time. The light green bra wrapped the plump breasts. This alluring sight made Kang Daniel forget himself. Chaeyoung also noticed that Kang Daniel was strange. She was also pleased that the man was so addicted to her body. Her tongue began to fight back into Kang Daniel's mouth. The delicate hands also begin to help take off Kang Daniel's clothes.

Kang Daniel came to his senses after being counterattacked by Chaeyoung's tongue. His hands then moved to Chaeyoung's lower body in a short skirt. One hand gently touched her white and elastic thighs, and the other hand slowly unzipped the skirt. Chaeyoung also cooperated. Raising her buttocks made it easier for Kang Daniel to take off her short skirt and the light green underwear that matched the bra, the neat black pubic hair in the translucent underwear can be seen easily.

"Well...turn off the light first...please..." Their lips parted, and when they separated, their saliva was still in a line. Chaeyoung's face turned red, and her legs were tightly clamped around Kang Daniel’s hand who was about to touch her clit.

"senpai... you have such a beautiful and sexy body... if we turn off the light... I can't see it... shall we continue?" Kang Daniel leaned down and whispered in Chaeyoung's ear, and Chaeyoung nodded in confusion.

Seeing this, Kang Daniel reached behind Chaeyoung with one hand, gently unbuttoned the back of her bra, and removed the bra straps on Chaeyoung's white shoulders with the other hand. Then he easily pushed up with both hands, and a pair of white, plump breasts bounced out.

"Ah..." This was the first time Chaeyoung that her breasts were seen by someone other than her boyfriend. She wanted to cover them shyly, but Kang Daniel reacted faster and took Chaeyoung's hands with both hands. He buried his head in her chest to suck her breasts and nipples. Soon Chaeyoung's sensitive nipples became hard.

As soon as Chaeyoung's nipples were sucked into Kang Daniel's mouth, his whole body immediately went limp in comfort. Seeing this, Kang Daniel let go of Chaeyoung's hands and used one hand to cooperate with his mouth to suck and knead the firm nipples from left to right. , one hand gently caressed Chaeyoung's fair inner thigh, and from time to time, Chaeyoung's body could be felt trembling when it touched the edge of her underwear.

"senpai...don't be nervous...can you spread your legs a little bit...it's very comfortable..." Kang Daniel felt Chaeyoung's body getting hotter and hotter, and his hand gradually caressed Chaeyoung's vagina through her underwear. Before long, Kang Daniel Feeling that her underwear was a little wet, and wanted to use his mouth to lick Chaeyoung's vagina.

Chaeyoung looked at Kang Daniel shyly and said nothing. She just watched Kang Daniel slowly slide his head from her chest down to her thighs and lick the inner thighs. Chaeyoung closed her eyes and opened her thighs slightly,  looking forward to Kang Daniel’s next move.

Kang Daniel's index finger secretly pulled the edge of the underwear to the side, and his lips quickly pressed against Chaeyoung 's moist labia and started sucking, and his tongue teased the erect clitoris from time to time.

"Ah..." Chaeyoung was served by a man with her mouth for the first time, grabbing Kang Daniel's hair with her hands, and even just hooking her legs around Kang Daniel's head. Chaeyoung thought that this might be the benefit of swapping partners, she could experience different sex moves, positions, and feelings.

Kang Daniel saw Chaeyoung's unusual reaction, so he guessed that this might be the first time a man had licked her vagina with his mouth, so he licked her more carefully and gently.

"Hmm... um..." Chaeyoung may have felt very comfortable. The strength of her hands and feet gradually decreased, and a moan slowly came out of her mouth.

"Ah... um... I... I... um... um... ah... ah..." Kang Daniel covered his entire palm on Chaeyoung's vagina, extended his index and middle fingers into Chaeyoung's vagina, and felt the temperature and tightening in the vagina, and the tongue constantly licking Chaeyoung's sensitive inner thighs, all kinds of pleasure also made Chaeyoung moan in comfort.

Kang Daniel's movements with his mouth and fingers were very skilful, licking, sucking, kissing, spitting, inserting, pumping, touching, pinching, all kinds of tricks made Chaeyoung's juice wet the sheets along his thighs.

"Ah...cum...cumming..." Chaeyoung screamed in comfort, being brought to orgasm by Kang Daniel's mouth and fingers.

"Sonbae...can you lick the cock...can you help me..." Kang Daniel lay on his side next to Chaeyoung, his hands did not neglect Chaeyoung as she reached her climax, one hand caressed the soft breasts, and the other continued to caress the wetness's vagina, said softly.

"But...but...I...I...don't know..." Chaeyoung responded a little shyly.

"It doesn't matter...you will get familiar with it if you try more...anyway, today is the time to try something that you have never tried before...senpai...help me..." Kang Daniel helped Chaeyoung up and leaned on the bed, asking Chaeyoung to kneel down before him. Chaeyoung only resisted symbolically before kneeling down obediently.

Chaeyoung's oral sex skills are very inexperienced. It can be seen that she has not served many people. From time to time, her teeth will scratch the sensitive glans, causing Kang Daniel to cry out in pain. Chaeyoung will look at Kang Daniel with a gentle and apologetic look, and then continue to lower her head and suck the cock more carefully. Kang Daniel would also tell Chaeyoung what to pay attention to and what to do to make the man more excited. Perhaps Chaeyoung was the one who learned the most at this party. Zion.T usually loves her too much. Instead of asking for so much, Kang Daniel also looked at Chaeyoung on his crotch. Although her skills were not as good as Jihyo's, she had a different taste.

"senpai...you are so beautiful...can I fuck you..." After Chaeyoung gave oral sex for a while, Kang Daniel held up Chaeyoung's beautiful face and kissed Chaeyoung on the lips without waiting for Chaeyoung's response.

"Come in...I...I want it too..." Chaeyoung lay on the bed with her eyes slightly closed, her face flushed with shyness, and she clutched the sheets tightly and whispered.

"senpai...I'm here..." Kang Daniel pushed Chaeyoung down on the bed, and his glans slowly separated the two wet labia. As soon as Kang Daniel finished speaking, he thrust his cock up and inserted it completely into Chaeyoung's pussy.

"Ah...ahhhhh..." Chaeyoung cried out comfortably.

"I...I...so...so comfortable...oh oh...um...um..." Kang Daniel pumped in a normal position, and of course, Chaeyoung's breasts could not escape the sucking of his mouth, Kang Daniel's penetration became faster and faster, and Chaeyoung's legs tightened around Kang Daniel's waist.

"Ahhhh..." The cock thrust in and out faster and faster, and Chaeyoung's moans became more and more excited.

In another room.

Kim Heechul moved his hand up along Jihyo's thigh, lifted the edge of the red lace panties, inserted his fingers into the hot and wet pussy, and grabbed Jihyo's snow-white plump breasts with one hand. The red palm prints were clearly visible. His lips were kissing Jihyo's fair neck and collarbone.

"Hmm...ah...I...ah... Heechul Oppa ..." Jihyo moaned selflessly, and her juice flowed all over Kim Heechul's fingers. Her body trembled, gasping for air, and her legs gradually spread apart.

Kim Heechul asked Jihyo to bend down in front of the window, and her two soft and white breasts were fully exposed. If there were people in the opposite building, they would be able to clearly see that the pure and sweet Jihyo has such a charming and alluring side. Kim Heechul squatted behind Jihyo's butt and spread her legs. He took off Jihyo's red panties and kissed her deep into the thick black pubic hair. Jihyo's whole body was shaking, feeling the pleasure from her vagina.

"Ah...ah...no...don't...ah..." Kim Heechul sucked all the nectar out of Jihyo's vagina. Kim Heechul's lips pressed against Jihyo's labia, and his tongue searched for the sensitive G-spot, one hand teases the clitoris and the other hand stimulates the asshole.

"Ah...ah...ah..." Jihyo had a violent reaction, her vagina tightly wrapped around Kim Heechul's tongue. Kim Heechul knew that he had found Jihyo's G-spot.

The tongue was pressed softly and slowly, causing Jihyo to arch her waist sometimes, lift her chest sometimes, and lift her buttocks sometimes. Her white legs kept trembling. Soon, Jihyo's vagina gradually tightened rhythmically. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and Kim Heechul's face was sprayed with warm nectars.

"Jihyo...are you feeling good...do you want a cock to fuck you..." Kim Heechul lay on Jihyo's smooth back, holding onto Jihyo's soft tits with both hands and kept rubbing his cock near the pussy but not inserting it.

"Hmm... Heechul oppa ...I...I want...you...you...fuck me..." Jihyo showed no restraint at all. She pushed Kim Heechul to the ground with a hard push with both hands and spread her legs widely. Aiming the cock at the pussy, she sat down and swallowed the whole cock.

"Ah... Heechul Oppa ...fuck me...fuck me to death...ah...ah...ah..." Jihyo kept moving her butt up and down, and then she sat down hard when her butt was raised until only the glans were left inside her body, then she sat back. Kim Heechul didn't expect Jihyo to be so proactive, but he seemed to have nothing to do, so he could only caress Jihyo's white and tender breasts with his hands.

"Oh...oh...hee... Heechul Oppa...quickly...quickly...I'm cumming...cumming...cumming..." Jihyo put her hands on Kim Heechul's chest, swaying her white butt crazily, her warm vagina getting tighter. No man could bear such pleasure. Kim Heechul also felt like he was about to cum.

Kim Heechul had a hard time fucking such a seductive beauty. Still, he didn't want to cum so quickly, so he turned Jihyo over and put her beautiful white legs on his shoulders. He inserted his entire cock into Jihyo's hot and wet pussy and controlled thrusting speed by himself so that he would not cum so quickly. The cock was wrapped in warm tender pussy which was full of pleasure. This pleasant feeling was simply indescribable.

"Ah... so... good... fucked... me... ah..." Jihyo moaned lustfully.

"Ah... Heechul Oppa ...it feels so good...fast...fast...ah...I can't do it anymore...ah...ah..." Kim Heechul accelerated and vigorously thrust, and Jihyo also raised her buttocks in crazy cooperation. A wave of numbing pleasure came from the place where the two of them met, and penetrated their bodies one after another.

"Oh...I'm going to cum..." Kim Heechul felt that he was about to cum. He was about to pull out his cock and cum outside her body. Unexpectedly, Jihyo suddenly hooked her legs tightly around Kim Heechul's buttocks and hugged him tightly with both hands, didn't let his body leave. His cock trembled inside Jihyo and spurted out hot semen. Jihyo was also heated by the semen and reached her second climax.

"Jihyo...let's do it again..." Kim Heechul did not pull out his cock in a hurry. Instead, he kept inserting his cock into Jihyo while stroking Jihyo's seductive body. It didn't take long for his cock to recover and asked.

Jihyo nodded coyly, not showing any sign of the crazy lovemaking she had just had.

Another room.

"Zion.T senpai ...it's you..." Momo drank the wine in her hand and looked at the man who walked in.

Zion.T usually loves his girlfriend Chaeyoung very much and does not dare to ask her to do too much or too rough. He usually only does two or three postures, and the movements are extremely gentle. This was an opportunity for him to have sex with other women openly. He planned to try something he had never done before, and since she was not his girlfriend, he could do something rough.

Zion.T pushed Momo down on the bed without saying anything. "Ah...you are so horny...I haven't even taken a shower yet..."Momo said coquettishly.

Zion.T kissed Momo directly, but Momo secretly bit his lip. Zion.T let go of Momo in pain, and Momo also stood up and planned to go into the bathroom to take a shower.

"Momo...I can't stand it...please...help me..." Zion.T sat on the bed and held Momo's wrist with one hand, and took out his hard cock with the other hand.

"Ah...really..." Momo looked at the hard cock, then knelt on the ground and tucked her hair behind her ears.

Momo bend her head down, stretched out the tip of her tongue and licked up and down around the cock, then took the glans into her mouth, sucking lightly and hard, gradually swallowing the entire cock deep into her throat. Her mouth was stuffed full of cock, and then she quickly moved her head up and down.

Momo seemed to be swallowing the cock. Every time she sucked, she took the cock to the very root. The glans kept pushing into the depths of her throat. The suffocating pleasure made Zion.T so happy that he couldn't help himself. Momo's seductive eyes hooked at Holding Zion.T, while still having his cock in her mouth, kept sucking and licking it. Momo's skilful oral sex skills were not comparable to Chaeyoung's. It didn't take long before Zion.T couldn't help but cum. With one movement and a grunt, Momo swallowed all the semen.

"Hehe... Seems you cum to Chae yesterday... The amount of semen is a bit less... You should rest on the bed for a while... I'll take a shower first and wait for the second round..." Momo stood up and went to the bathroom.

Not long after Momo entered, Zion.T undressed himself completely and entered the bathroom with his erect cock.

Momo is putting hot water in the bathtub and stripped down to her underwear. She was looking in the mirror to see if there was anything she needed to tidy up when the door suddenly opened and a pair of big hands reached out to her.

"Ah..." The black lace bra on Momo's chest was suddenly pulled off by a pair of big hands. Momo yelled and quickly hugged the white breasts that popped out, but the big hands did not let go of her and ruthlessly pulled Momo's hand away. The hands on her chest vigorously rubbed Momo's snow-white and plump breasts.

"Ah... Zion.T senpai...you...stop it...no...I told you to wait for me on the bed..." After a while, Momo couldn't bear the pleasure and succumbed to Zion.T's caress.

Zion.T ignored Momo's questions and continued to caress Momo's soft breasts with one hand. He hugged her slender waist from behind with the other hand and brought his lips together. Momo also took the initiative to kiss Zion.T's lips. Zion.T was extremely hard. His cock pressed against Momo's petite ass through a thin black lace panty.

"Momo...you are so...all that makes people miss you..." Momo's white and tender skin was filled with a shy red light, her slender body, her pitiful face, and her black underwear were caressed by Zion.T and were completely stripped off, Momo could only try to cover up her three charming points with her hands.

Little did he know that the shyness and looming stimulation in this way made Zion.T aroused. He clamped Momo's delicate legs with his legs, hugged Momo tightly with one hand, and pinched the hard nipple with the other. His hard cock was also rubbing Momo's wet clit, and Momo's movements gradually changed from resistance to submission.

"Hmm... um... um... I'm not even allowed to take a proper bath... ah... ah... ah..." Zion.T lifted Momo's left leg while slowly inserting his hard cock in Momo's tight pussy.

"No.. ah... ah... I... um... um..." The stimulating pleasure brought by the cock was so strong that Momo moaned forgetfully.

"Ahhh..." Zion.T picked up Momo, and Momo's hands and feet involuntarily hugged Zion.T, and they walked to the bathtub step by step.

Zion.T grabbed Momo's plump breasts with both hands and sucked the nipples on the left and right back and forth with his mouth. Momo sat astride Zion.T's legs. The two of them swung up and down in coordination. Each swing could arouse bursts of excitement in the bathtub.

There were no gentle techniques, just the body's blind desire to satisfy its desire. The tight and tender flesh kept swallowing the cock. Momo kept panting and cooperated, hoping that the cock would go deeper and faster.

Momo felt that the cock in her body suddenly swelled. Knowing that Zion.T was about to cum, she shook her butt desperately. Soon a stream of semen spurted into Momo's body. Momo raised her buttocks and pulled out the ejaculated cock. Then she took the cock into her mouth and licked up all the remaining semen.

"senpai...I still want...come on..." Just as Momo was licking and cleaning his cock, she found that his cock had regained its strength and became firm again. It seemed that Zion.T's cock was not long-lasting but its resilience was amazing.

"Yeah... you're so sexy..." Zion.T watched Momo's lewd way of cleaning his cock, then grabbed Momo's slim waist and thrust his cock from behind.

"Ah... um..." Momo obeyed him happily.

"Ah...ah...quickly...quickly...give it to me...ah...ok..." Zion.T usually didn't dare to treat Chaeyoung roughly, but now he fucked Momo roughly and hard.

After fucking in the bathroom for a while, Zion.T picked up Momo and went to the bed. Zion.T tried doggy style, missionary style and other different positions on Momo.

After a while, Kim Heechul and Jihyo opened the door first and walked out. It could be seen from their wet hair and skin that they had just finished washing and walked out together. They were only wearing bath towels but dressed nothing inside.

"It seems... we are the earliest to come out... do you want... to do it in the living room..." Kim Heechul poured a glass of wine and handed it to Jihyo, then sat down next to her and hugged her with one arm, another hand was inside the towel and started caressing it.

"No...I  don't want it... It'll be seen by my boyfriend later..." After all, it's another thing for her boyfriend to see she fucks another man with his own eyes, she said while stopping  Kim Heechul's hand.

"umm...umm...umm..." Jihyo could not stop Kim Heechul at this time. Jihyo was pressed down on the sofa. Kim Heechul pressed Jihyo with his whole body, kissed her lips with his mouth, and gently kissed her lips with one hand. He gently caressed the white and sexy thighs and grabbed the white and plump breasts with one hand.

"Heechul Oppa ... no... don't... no... how about... I'll help you with my mouth..." Kim Heechul moved his head to Jihyo's chest and bit her erect nipples with his mouth. Jihyo unconsciously spread her legs and his fingers gently stimulated the newly found G-spot inside Jihyo. Jihyo, who was hit by the pleasure, could only moan for mercy. She really didn't want her boyfriend to see her being fucked by someone else.

Kim Heechul thought that there would be more opportunities in the future, and did not want to force Jihyo, so he stood up and put his cock next to Jihyo's mouth. Jihyo glared at Kim Heechul with seductive eyes, knelt down, and pulled away Kim Heechul's bath towel with one hand. Open her small mouth and gently sucked it in. Kim Heechul only felt that the glans were wrapped in a warm and moist mouth.

Jihyo continued to wrap the tip of her tongue around the glans, sucking and sucking the glans in her mouth, making continuous squeaking sounds. While sucking, Jihyo also used her small hands to gently stroke his cock, making his cock bigger and bigger.  Kim Heechul's hands are not idle, one hand is stroking Jihyo's smooth back, and the other hand is grabbing the swaying breasts.

'Hey, how about we do it together?' Heechul and Jihyo, who were concentrating on serving and enjoying themselves, did not notice anyone coming behind them. Kim Heechul was fine, but Jihyo was so frightened that her whole body shook and she almost bit his cock with her teeth. But when she saw that the people coming were Zion.T and Momo, she then confidently served Kim Heechul with his mouth again.

Momo with her hands and feet on the ground, with her butt raised high, while Zion grabbed Momo's slim waist and bumped Momo's butt with his cock, and Momo crawled forward with difficulty. When she arrived next to Kim Heechul, Momo was already sweating profusely.

"Baby ...did Zion.T...fuck you well...do you feel good..." Momo crawled to Kim Heechul's side and slowly leaned on Kim Heechul with both hands to get up, but Zion.T was behind her and still fucking her hard, Momo was fucked so hard that she could only hug Kim Heechul tightly, and her plump breasts kept squeezing Kim Heechul. Kim Heechul didn't take it seriously and instead held up Momo's innocent and pitiful face. After saying that, he kissed her hard.

"Ah...ah...ah... Zion.T senpai ...no...don't...ah...ah...ah..." Zion.T saw Jihyo lying on the ground with her white and plump butt raised slightly, The two labia were opening and closing slightly and still dripping juice. This obscene scene made Zion.T unable to bear watching it. He pulled out his cock and go behind Jihyo's ass, and the cock began to penetrate Jihyo's body. Jihyo, who was serving Kim Heechul attentively, didn't realize until the cock was completely inserted into her body that it was too late to stop him.

Kim Heechul and Momo looked at each other and laughed slightly. Kim Heechul pressed Momo back to the ground. Momo also gestured and stuck out her tongue to lick Heechul's cock from left to right with Jihyo. Although it was the first time for the two of them to cooperate, they still licking in a tacit understanding, the two women's heads were close together, one was holding the cock and the other was sucking the balls. They even licked the cock together, licking up and down on both sides. The lewd and seductive scene made Kim Heechul look overjoyed.

Kang Daniel and Chaeyoung walked out of the room fully dressed and followed the moans of obscenity to the living room, but were stunned by the sight in front of them.

Chaeyoung has never tried multi-person sex, but now the scene of two men and two women having sex appears in front of her. She was shocked. She had never imagined that there would be such lewd love. Moreover, her boyfriend Zion.T usually treated her gently. Now he was hitting Jihyo's ass roughly and ferociously. The white ass was completely red from the impact. She even fantasized about how good it would be to be fucked so roughly by her boyfriend.

Kang Daniel watched his girlfriend being rocked back and forth by two cocks one after another. As soon as the cock leaves her mouth, the cock from behind thrust forward, and Jihyo was forced to take the cock in her mouth again. As soon as the cock withdrew from her pussy, her body was forced to swing back by the cock which is fucking her mouth, making it looks like she was fucking the cock behind. Kang Daniel never knew that the pure and sweet Jihyo had such a lustful side, but his cock involuntarily stood up.

The four people in the living room also noticed the arrival of Kang Daniel and Chaeyoung. Kim Heechul looked at the two of them with a smile. Zion.T avoided Chaeyoung's gaze and continued to fuck Jihyo. Jihyo was surrounded by two cocks. Looking at Kang Daniel with apologetic eyes, Momo held the balls in her mouth and spreaded her two butt cheeks with both hands to reveal her wet pussy, inviting Kang Daniel to join her.

Kang Daniel watching his girlfriend being fucked by someone else. Although he had known about it for a long time, seeing it with his own eyes was a different feeling. Coupled with Momo's constant temptation, he started to take off the clothes he had just put on.

"Senpai... Let's..." Kang Daniel invited Chaeyoung to join him, but Chaeyoung was still not able to accept multi-person sex and could only shake her head, so Kang Daniel walked forward alone.

Kang Daniel lay on Momo's back, gently rubbing Momo's plump breasts with his right hand, grabbing Jihyo's soft breasts with his left hand, kissing Momo's white neck, smelling the refreshing fragrance, but his cock was not rushed to get in and he just rubbed it near Momo's clit, causing Momo to keep swaying her ass in protest.

Momo couldn't help but had to hold the cock and push it into her body. The hard cock spread Momo's clits and inserted it directly into her body. Once the cock was inserted, Kang Daniel stopped teasing Momo and started fuck fiercely. Kang Daniel, and Zion.T were fucking Momo and Jihyo in the same position, while the small mouths of the two women were serving Kim Heechul.

While Kang Daniel was watching his girlfriend being fucked, he was fucking another beauty next to him. This strange pleasure made him extremely excited. This kind of sexual interest was something he had never experienced in Jihyo.

At the same time, Jihyo also saw that her boyfriend was grabbing Momo's waist, and the cock that originally belonged to her was also moving in and out of Momo's body. The expressions on the faces of her boyfriend and Momo were very satisfying, and the jealousy made Jihyo even more focused on licking. She licked the cock in front of her and swung it in harmony with the cock in her body.

Zion.T was extremely excited when he saw Chaeyoung sitting aside and watching him grab Jihyo's slim waist and fuck her hard. He slapped Jihyo's white ass while doing it. This kind of lovemaking method was something Zion.T didn't dare to use on Chaeyoung. Yes, now he's going to experience things with Jihyo that he usually doesn’t dare to do.

Chaeyoung watched curiously as everyone in the living room was naked and immersed in sex. Only she seemed out of place sitting aside, especially when she saw her boyfriend's cock thrusting inside Jihyo. Every time Zion.T hit Jihyo's ass, Chaeyoung's heart trembled, when she saw the happy expressions on Momo and Jihyo's faces, she wanted to switch with them and experience it. Chaeyoung couldn't help but put her hands into her skirts and caress them.

Kim Heechul had wanted to fuck Chaeyoung for so long, so when he saw Chaeyoung masturbating aside, he immediately stood up. Jihyo and Momo, who had lost their cocks to suck, leaned together and kissed each other.

Kim Heechul did not rush to fuck Chaeyoung from the beginning but quietly watched Chaeyoung caressing her. Until Chaeyoung's whole body turned red and her eyes revealed a desire, he slowly replaced Chaeyoung's hands with his hands. Although when Heechul's hands first touched Chaeyoung, Chaeyoung's whole body trembled but she didn't refuse and let him rub her gently.

Kim Heechul's right hand came into contact with Chaeyoung's light green panties, and he realized that it was already wet. Kim Heechul used his tongue to lick Chaeyoung's vagina through the underwear, sucking the semen that flowed out, and put his hands into the bra to gently caress those soft breasts.

"Chaeyoung... do you want me to fuck you..." As soon as Kim Heechul's mouth left Chaeyoung's pussy, Chaeyoung felt itchy and unbearable. She kept twisting her buttocks, hoping that Kim Heechul would continue to lick her, but Kim Heechul only asked softly but didn't. Regardless of any movement, the hungry Chaeyoung had no choice but to take a deep breath and nod slightly with a blushing face.

"Hee...hee..." With laughter, Kim Heechul pulled Chaeyoung to the front of Jihyo and Momo and casually took off all the remaining clothes on Chaeyoung's body on the way.

"Chaeyoung... come... kneel down..." Kim Heechul asked Chaeyoung to follow Jihyo and Momo's position and lie down. As soon as Chaeyoung kneeled down, Momo kissed Chaeyoung on the lips, and Jihyo leaned in not to be outdone. , Chaeyoung was trying same-sex tongue kiss for the first time, and could only passively cooperate with Jihyo and Momo.

"Ah... oh... ugh... ugh... ugh..." Kim Heechul teased Chaeyoung's labia by rubbing his cock on it a few times, soon Chaeyoung felt a hard and hot cock inserted into her body, and the tingling and empty feeling in her pussy just now was replaced by a fulfilling pleasure. The cock was inserted and pulled out again and again, giving Chaeyoung an ecstasy of pleasure. But just as she let out a cry, his lips were kissed by Jihyo and Momo again.

Chaeyoung looked at her boyfriend, but there was another man's cock inside her, which even brought her greater pleasure. Chaeyoung didn't expect that in just one day, she would be fucked by two cocks that did not belong to her boyfriend, and for the first time today, An experience also brings her different excitement and pleasure.

"Ah...ah...ah...ah..."

"Hmm... um... um... um..."

"Oh...oh...oh...oh..."

Chaeyoung, Jihyo, and Momo were all kneeling on the ground at the same time, with their ass raised high. There was a man fucking them from behind, but they are not their boyfriend, instead, their boyfriends are watching them moan like a slut while fucking by others. This stimulating pleasure brought by both the mind and body at the same time, caused Chaeyoung, Jihyo, and Momo to let out different moans at the same time, one after another in the living room.

 After a while, Momo seemed to feel that it was not enough, so she knocked Kang Daniel down with her ass and sat on Kang Daniel's crotch. Momo actively controlled the speed and force of thrusting on top of him. Kang Daniel glanced at Jihyo, but Momo held Kang Daniel's face with both hands and kissed him deeply. "Well... don't look at her... you are mine now... you can only focus on fucking me..."

When Jihyo saw it, she also imitated knocking down Zion. T and rode up on him. Kim Heechul also smiled and helped Chaeyoung up and let her ride on him. Chaeyoung, Jihyo, and Momo rode on each other's boyfriend at the same time, swinging their buttocks and moaning happily.

On this day, Chaeyoung, Jihyo, and Momo let the men take turns fucking and cream-pie them internally. When everything calmed down, the six of them lay limply naked and hugged each other's girlfriends and boyfriends, feeling that this is a kind of stimulating joy that cannot be expressed in words, and it also improves the relationship between lovers.

[holyprncess]

brothel mix-up!

warnings: explicit, choking, hair pulling kinda, referred to the strap as her dick, sev slaps ur pussy and they are older than you

ambessa + sevika

after a long day of being slicos number two, all sevika wants to do to wind down is visit her favorite girl. the one she goes to nearly every day. imagine the anger she felt when she opens the door to only seeing you pressed down on the mattress, held in place by a tight grip on your neck while the noxian warlord rubs her cunt against yours, loud moans from your sweet lips and louder sounds from your sweeter pussy fill her room and her ears as her anger and confusion grows quick.

"are you fucking serious?"

all that clouds your mind when you recognize sevika at the door is embarrassment, confusion from the way ambessa and sevika somehow.. communicate things to each other with their eyes when they look at eachother. you feel shame. shame because you feel unloyal to sevika. you guys arent dating or anything. you agreed to keep it only as a sexual relationship. but sev's a regular. your first customer and your most frequent one. not many people book you, in concern for their physical health. your sev's girl. well that was until ambessa booked you.

now you watch as sev walks toward you and ambessa moves from between your legs letting sevika take her spot from between . you spread your legs wider, welcoming sevika's touch. your breath hitched when you see sevika tug her pants down and rub the tip of the strap-on on you, teasing your hole. the way she slid the strap into your slick cunt with a slow, steady motion. your body immediately tensing as the thick toy filled you whole, before ambessa taps your leg. reminding you to relax so you can accommodate it. "breathe pretty girl..." shes whispers in your ear when sevika starts to fuck into you deep letting your moans fill the air before sevika picked up the pace, her hips moving in a steady rhythm as she thrust the silicone mold deep into your pussy. the room is full of your screams, your walls clenching around the toy as you reveled in the sensation of being filled and stretched by her.

ambessa tangles her hand in your hair, pulling your head back to meet her longing gaze as your body rocks from the way sevika is ravaging your pussy. ambessa's sweet but condescending praises fill the air. "good girl.. taking sevika's cock so deep like that. was pretty slutty of you to try and two-time us both." she purrs in your ear, her thumb rubbing your cheek. she knows thats not true. and you weren't trying to do that. but your face when she said that was too good to pass up. she adjusts herself on the bed, her pussy above your slacked jaw. ambessa's toned physique settled onto your face, her soaked pussy smothering your mouth and nose. your muffled gasps and ambessa's gentle rocking motion as your tongue flicked in and out of her hole, licking and sucking at ambessa's wet cunt. sevika's hands hold your legs apart before fucking into you deeper, feeling the tip of sevikas plastic cock hit your cervix multiple times. letting the loudest noises out against ambessa's clit, the vibrations against her cunt collecting loud groans from the older woman. your noises were drowned out by ambessa pussy, but your body language spoke volumes - your hips began to buck, fingers grasping onto ambessa's thighs as sevika's strap-on rubbing against your walls stirred a fire within you. eating ambessa out with passion. desperate to please the older woman.

your tongue continued its relentless assault on ambessa's clit, sucking and licking the sensitive nub until you felt her body tensed and quivered. with a cry of pleasure, ambessa's wet heat clenched hard around your tongue as she came. her juices flooding your mouth. she moves off your mouth once she sees you swallowed all of her juice. she turned her head to watch as sevika continued to fuck her deep, the toy cock sliding in and out with practiced and familiar ease as ambessa brings her hand down to rub your clit too.

it's too much for you. the pleasure is too strong. your hand grab sevika's bicep and the other one tries to hold ambessas hand in place. trying to push her off.. but you don't actually want her to stop. your eyes locked onto sevika's, gaze pleading for more. and sevs eyes filled with complete lust. she clenched her muscles, ambessa's finger working on your sensitive nub is the end of how much you can take. when sevika brings her palm down quick on your cunt, you squirt alll on sevika's cock. collapsing in pleasure.

maybe next time they can both visit you again. together.

[whereserpentswalk]

Reblog to go on a date with your monster. Like to give them a little gift.

Look under the cut to see what meeting your joyfriend is like.

1 you walk into a messy apartment, it looks like this is their first place where they live alone, away from other angels. They're sitting on a Lome mattress, cuddling a stuffed animal and watching TV. Despite everything they're still beautiful, their body youthful, and sexless, and athletic, their four white wings forever stained with blood. They look up at you with rose gold eyes, afraid, apologizing for if they scared you. But to their surprise you don't shy away from them, and somehow they feel safe and pure when you sit down to talk to them.

2 you see them in the shadows, alone in the dark of an empty park, changing shape, first a muscular humanoid in armor, then a wolf dancing through the night, then a combination of both, then finally a modern human in a ragged trenchcoat. Despite all their forms, their eyes are always the same. They come up to you and bow with a smile on their face. You slowly aproch them, for whatever reason their voice seems so familiar. You greet them with your hand as you would an animal, even as they're in human form, as you slowly pet their scars for the first time.

3 within the golden halls of an ornate train station you see them for the first time, through the crowd with inhumanly green eyes. They notice you despite everyone else. And you notice everything off about them, the wrong numbers of teeth, their hands occasionally having more or less then five fingers before returning back to normal. It's wordless but it doesn't need words for you to tell them that they don't need to pretend to be human around you. And for a momment you see them, naked, with branches for antlers, and the wings of a monarch butterfly, a serpent's head where a human’s genitals would be, and teeth made out of broken glass, and then only a rose exists where they once stood, but you know you'll see them again.

4 you see them for the first time in an empty parking lot, a massive creature with black eyes and countless legs, glowing yet dark, as they come twords you they take notes in an unknowable language. They inspect you as the dark matter pitter patters across your face. You expect them to hurt you as they reach out their claw but they only gently pet your head. You can tell that they're suprised, you're more receptive then most humans are. They give you a small peice of food to let you eat right from their claw, and it tastes batter then anything on earth.

5 you meet them in a café on a quiet side street. They don't like being seen by too many people. Their body is beautiful, but so inhuman, tall and slender, with silvery armor covering them from the neak down, their face pale and their eyes long since ripped out and replaced with red mechanical replacements. They're a bit afraid you won't be ok with them when you first meet them, but you start talking, and though they're shy at first they like the sound of your voice. They let you pet their head and they cuddle up to you, and their body is warm like a churning machine as you hug them for the first time, and they feel comforted in your arms.

6 you see them in a dark subway station. They clearly once were human, centuries ago, their body forever young, but pale and skinny, their eyes turned white and their mouth jawless and fanged like a lampry's. Their body is entirely sexless, barely shielded from the cold by a ragged suit. Most people avoid them, but you ask if they're ok and they just look up at you, when you ask if they're hungry they nod. You agree to give them some blood, and it feels like they're giving you little kisses as you offer them your wrist. When they're full you hug their cold body, and for a momment they're made warm.

7 an undead servent slowly brings them over to you in a wheelchair. Though their mansion is beautiful it's trapped in time, and dark even in the daytime. You can see the computer they're trapped in, it must be decades old by now. They look at you with an avatar meant to look like a drawing of themself, or at least how they'd want to look. Something about them makes you want to touch them, but you know you never can. You put your hand to the screen, and you can feel the magic flow through you, and for a momment that's enough.

8 you see them sitting there alone in a bar. A slender androgynous humanoid, they're wearing a black suit but upon closer examination it's part of their body, never to be taken off. You sit next to them, and they smile at you, you talk for a few moments and it's like they know more about the universe then you could ever imagine. They pet your head, and it feels like it'll kill you, but it only makes you feel more alive. They hand you a business card with their number on it, it says they're a servent of hades, they tell you you can contact them again if you like, they'll be around. When you look again they're entirely gone once more.

9 walking through an abandoned mall you see them, a life sized puppet, with stars and moons on its outfit, and a painted mask for a face. Coming closer to them you can see there's red liquid on them, and strange otherworldly bugs and mushrooms on their body. When you try to touch them they float in the air, and move as if they're alive, for a momment you think they'll hurt you but they run away. When you find them again, tracking them down to a dark arcade, you see they're crying. They expect you to hurt them but you reach out to help them instead, nobody's ever tried to help them like that before...

10 you see them ontop of a skyscraper's roof. They youthful human wearing a leather jacket smiling as a massive reptile, with bat like wings, and massive steel fangs, and a tail like a scorpion's flies down to them. You wonder if they'll try to calm it but instead they move together like one being, their eyes the same yellow color. The creature comes twords you, fire in its mouth, and poison in its teeth. You realize the two beings are one in the same, as the wyvern bows its head, ready for you to ride it, with its human body at your side.

11 for a momment they chase you through the night, the hooded masked figure running twords you, blade in hand. But as you cross the street they can't follow, it's as if they've hit a wall. The gods themselves have bound them. While you're in safety you look at them, there's a sadness behind that mask. You wonder, if they can't hurt you here, would there be any reason to hate them, would they choose to spare you if they knew your face, your voice...

12 all you can see is blackness, yet there is no darkness, only this slick metallic liquid around you. The lake bubbles up creating a false body with its fluid, first male, then female, then both, then neither. It beckons you in, and you know it would not let you drown. When you step inside all you can feel, all you can see, is the fluid around you, and you feel as if you're being held.

[sometimesanalice]

Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his art.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the paint smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[merrybloomwrites]

In Front of Me

Summary: Louis being away for festivals means more time spent apart than either of you are happy with. Louis surprises you with a visit, helping you both reconnect.

AN: Title from "Habit" by Louis Tomlinson

CW: smut, p-in-v sex, oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 1.6K

Requested by: @lillisummers

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Dating a global superstar comes with a fair amount of perks. But one major downside is the amount of time that needs to be spent apart. 

You and Louis had a plan for his tour. Your schedule was flexible, and that allowed you to visit him for a number of stops. Never did you go more than two weeks apart. It wasn’t perfect, you still missed each other on occasion, but it worked. And the two of you were happy. 

And then Louis lined up a summer full of festivals. When he approached you about doing these types of shows you were elated for him. He loves performing, and truthfully it makes you happy to see him up there thriving. Every time you see a show in person or watch a video from his performances, you’re filled with pride. Seeing the crowd there for him, singing his songs, cheering him on, it warms your heart. 

But that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him. 

What started as just a couple shows has turned into him being away for almost the entire summer. 

This is the busiest season for your work so it’s not as easy for you to adjust your schedule to get time off. For the first time in recent history, you haven’t seen Louis in more than three weeks.  

And you miss him. Miss him so much that your heart hurts. And it’s not just a physical separation. It’s emotional as well. Due to time zones and rehearsals, you find that there’s barely any time to speak on the phone either. 

The two of you scheduled a time to speak today. And then something came up and that call was canceled. It left you feeling despondent, so alone in the home you’re meant to be sharing with your boyfriend. Your home that he hasn’t slept at in weeks. 

Later, while Louis is on stage, you lay in bed and send him a simple text: “I miss you.”

You don’t expect to hear back for a while, so you roll over and go to sleep. 

The next morning you jolt awake to the sound of the front door opening. You’re on high alert, not knowing why someone would be entering your home. Your mind runs through the list of people with keys, but really, who would come without a heads up?

And then you hear a familiar voice, and begin to wonder if you’re still dreaming. Because there’s no way that voice should be in this house. The person it belongs to isn’t meant to be home for at least ten more days. 

“There you are, love,” Louis says when he enters your bedroom. 

“Louis!” You exclaim. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your text,” he says. 

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I wanted to answer in person. I miss you too baby. So much. I actually got this ticket to fly back a couple days ago. I couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.”

You smile at his words, moved by the fact that he was missing you just as much. 

And then you realize something else. 

“What happened to your face?” You ask bluntly. Obviously you don’t have a filter this quickly after waking up. 

“What happened to my face? What does that mean?” Louis says, his voice offended, but in a joking manner. He knows you’re referring to the fact that he’s clean shaven, something you haven’t seen in quite a long time. 

“I had a bit of a mishap with a razor,” he explains. 

“Seriously?”

“Yea, went a little too short in one spot and there was no saving it. So baby face it is.”

“I like it,” you say, bringing your hand up to slide against the smooth skin. He leans into your touch, and you can tell he’s been craving this reunion as much as you have, maybe more. 

“Lou?”

“Yea?”

“Kiss me?”

“Always, love.”

He quickly makes good on his word, leaning on the edge of the bed to kiss you. It starts so gentle, so sweet that it almost brings tears to your eyes. The love you have for this man can’t be described in words, but you try anyway. “I love you, Lou. So much. I missed you so much, but I am so, so proud of all you’ve accomplished,” you say, making sure he knows just how you feel about him. 

“I love you too. And I love doing these shows, but it hurts being away from you.”

“Well you’re here now. That’s what matters. Let’s make the most of it, okay?”

“That, I can definitely do,” he replied before leaning in again to kiss you. This one is more intense, more passionate, his tongue immediately sliding between your lips to explore your mouth. 

He pulls back to undress, kicking off his shoes before removing his clothes until he’s left only in his boxers. He lifts the duvet and is pleased to see that your sleep attire consists of a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts. 

Louis settles his body on top of yours. He kisses up your neck, to your chin, then back to your mouth. You make out lazily, tongues languidly caressing. Neither of you knows how much time passes, too lost in one another to worry about something so menial. None of that matters. The only thing that matters is that you’re together. 

Your hands move along his bare torso, pausing only when Louis starts lifting the bottom of your shirt. Once that’s removed, you both begin to explore each other's bodies, as though relearning every detail of each other. 

Louis starts to press kisses down your torso, until he gets to the boxers you’re wearing. He looks up, silently asking permission, which you quickly grant him. He slowly takes off the boxers, leaving you naked beneath him. 

His kisses continue, trailing lower until suddenly, his tongue darts out to lick through your folds. You gasp at the sudden wave of pleasure that rolls through you. Louis begins eating you out in earnest. It’s different than usual, no scruff burning your thighs, and part of you misses that, just a little. And then he flicks his tongue just right and all thoughts leave your mind. 

Your orgasm hits suddenly, and you cry out as he works you through it, elongating the pleasure until you’re pushing him away. 

He gives you a few minutes to catch his breath before he slips his boxers off, adding them to the clothing scattered in the room. You reach out, pumping his hard length for a moment before he gently moves your hand away. 

“Need to be inside you,” he says, voice verging on desperation. You love when he gets so worked up, so needy for you. 

You shuffle slightly before your hand goes back to him, guiding his hard cock to your dripping entrance. He slides in easily until he’s completely nestled inside of you, causing both of you to moan in pleasure. 

He breathes deeply for a moment, and you know him well enough that this is more for him than you. While he always gives you a second to adjust, he also sometimes needs time as well to ensure he doesn’t finish too quickly, especially when you’ve been apart for a while. 

Once he has himself under control he pulls out before quickly pushing back in. He starts off hard and fast, before slowing down, pounding in and letting you feel every inch of him. He alternates between these two speeds, his fingers eventually moving to rub circles on your clit. 

You can’t help the noises you make, the moans and whimpers that he pushes out of you with each thrust. And when you do come, you’re grateful not to have neighbors, since there’s no way you can stay quiet. Not when you’re overwhelmed by one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

“Fucking hell!” Louis shouts, his hips becoming more erratic as he chases his own high. It hits a moment later, and you sigh in bliss as his warm cum fills you. 

“Holy shit,” he says. “That was the hottest thing ever, babe. I can’t believe you did that?”

“Did what?” You ask, confused about what happened. 

“You squirted. Never seen you do that before.”

“I did? No way! No wonder that felt so intense.”

“Can’t wait to make you do that again,” he says, a cheeky smile on his face. “Though maybe we should change these sheets.”

“Why change them if we’re just going to get them messy again?” You ask suggestively. 

“You do have a point there.” He replies.  

An hour later the two of you finally leave the bed, only to have one more round in the shower. Finally, you head down to the kitchen for breakfast. The first thing you notice is a vase full of your favorite flowers on the table. Your heart swells again at the gesture, and you’re reminded that even though it may be hard dating someone who travels so much, you wouldn’t trade Louis for the world. 

You spend a couple days with Louis before he needs to leave again. 

“I hate saying goodbye,” you say. 

“I know, baby. I do too. But only two more weeks of festivals and then I’m home for good,” he says. 

You try not to smile too big, not wanting to give away that you have a secret. He’s not the only one capable of planning a surprise. And his look of pure joy and excitement when you arrive at his show just five days later is definitely worth it.

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

AN: Thanks for reading! I have another Larry x reader coming up soon, and I'm working on a Harry x reader series as well!

[outofconcheol]

Tune In For Love (KSM x GN!Reader)

pairing: college radio host!Seungmin x co-host!reader

genres/au/rating: sfw, mostly fluff, the mildest of angst, idiots to lovers, pg

summary: When you and Seungmin come up with a crazy new idea for your radio show, a week of chaos and unspoken feelings unfolds. As you learn more about relationships, will the two of you tune in for love? Or decide to shut it down completely?

warnings: swearing, fake exes trope, a playlist of seungmin coded songs mentioned, stupid amounts of pining, mentions of relationship drama, they almost kiss, then they actually kiss, one mild (joking ) threat of violence, Jeongin being the best wingman ever, RAIN, Ningning, Joshua, Cheol, and Day6 all make cameos

word count: 2.8k

a/n: happy Seungmin day!! honestly this could have been a whole fic on its own but i'm happy with this cute little drabble! this draws some inspiration from the ex talk by rachel lynn solomon. our boy deserves all the love, i hope you enjoy!

“Okay everyone, this has been another week at The Sound FM, the university’s #1 radio station! ____ and Seungmin signing off!”

Your voice fades out to the tune of the hit that Seungmin had selected for the week, ears perking up at the rumble of the bass and the tick tick tick of the hi-hat. Another Day6 song. Congratulations this time. 

“When will you admit that you’re Day6’s number one fan?”

“When you admit that you’re their number two,” Seungmin adjusts his glasses, a devious smirk lighting up his face. 

(You were, but you would never give Seungmin the satisfaction.)

“That segment on how to deal with the stress of midterms turned out great! What should we do next?”

You fidget with your pen, tapping it against your notepad, twirling it around in your fingers, before moving to put it behind your ear–

Seungmin’s hands shoot out, fingers clasping around yours for a brief moment, and a shiver runs through you, despite the fact that it was sunny outside with not a cloud in sight.

“I had an idea, actually, well it’s not my idea, Jeongin brought it up..”

For however composed the two of you were on air, you turned into awkward rambling messes when the mics were off. It had always been like that though. You’d been hosting the show with Seungmin for the better part of a year and you still didn’t know why you felt shy around him, or why you’d barely progressed beyond simple acquaintances.

“There’s this girl that uh, he, yeah he wants to impress, so he was asking if our next segment could maybe have something to do with dating advice.” 

“That is sooo much better than the segment on recycling tips I was planning,” you nudge him, oblivious to the way his ears turn red.

“Oooh but what if we make it spicy you know? Like approach relationships from a different angle?”

“What angle?” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck. “As far as I know, neither of us are in a relationship. I mean, right?”

“Right but no one else has to know that! What if we pretend that we’re exes, who broke up? Hindsight is always 20/20, people will eat that up!”

“I thought I was supposed to be the menace here,” Seungmin’s tone is deadpan but his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me Min,” you giggle. “So, what do you say we put your charm to good use?”

“You think I’m charming ___?” 

You miss the excitement in his tone, writing it off as enthusiasm for the whole absurdity of this plan.

“Who knows, Min! Maybe we’ll even find people! This is so exciting!”

Seungmin pauses briefly, a choked sound escaping his mouth, but you think you imagine it, watching him straighten and nod.

Laughter fills the studio as you bicker back and forth about what to include and how the next week would go. It was a risk, but you hoped it would pay off — both on the airwaves and maybe even for your stagnant love life. The possibilities were endless.

“Hello, and welcome to Tune in For Love! We are your hosts, ___ and Seungmin, and for the next week we’ll be tackling all your relationship questions and concerns!”

Your voice booms into the mic, echoing throughout the tiny studio, and you take a moment to mute yourself, heart pounding in your ears. Butterflies had begun to bubble up in your chest – you were really doing this.

“You ready for this?” Seungmin’s voice knocks you out of your daze, and you look over to see his lips twist into a lazy smile, running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck. Why did that make your stomach flip-flop?

You give him a shaky nod. It was probably just the rush of trying something new, so different from what you were used to. The simultaneous thrill and terror of dipping your toes into uncharted waters. 

Seungmin unmutes the mic, his softer, more melodious voice reverberating into the windscreen. He’d make a great singer, you think. Maybe for your next segment you could convince him to croon on air.

“We’re your resident experts on dating, whether it's still in the early stages of puppy love, the cool cruising of the honeymoon phase, or the bitter sting of love gone wrong. We have all your answers, right here, right now on The Sound FM!”

“Trust me, we’ve had experience with all of those,” you chuckle.

The story just falls off your tongue – a tumultuous end to a relationship that had never existed, one full of angst and heartbreak that even the finest writer couldn’t think of. Seungmin interrupts you spontaneously to respond to your dramatic anecdotes with dry quips of his, and you can’t believe it — you actually sound like a couple. A real couple.

“How was I supposed to know you were allergic to garlic? You let me take you to an Italian restaurant on the first date!”

“As my boyfriend, you should have asked my best friend about my allergies! That’s like standard dating protocol,” you shoot back, making sure to smile so that Seungmin knows you’re not serious.

“Noted, I’ll keep that in mind for the next relationship,” Seungmin grunts, the air becoming thick with a tension you can’t pinpoint.

Clearing your throat, your fingers hover over the buttons of the soundboard.

“How about we take some listener calls instead?”

The line crackles to life, a caller named Ningning groaning about how her girlfriend forget their anniversary and didn’t even apologize.

“It’s an honest mistake,” Seungmin mutters. 

“I don’t think so,” you counter, chewing your lip. “It’s important to be considerate of special moments like anniversaries, birthdays. It means you care. I mean Seungmin probably doesn’t even remember mine–”

“October 17th,” he interrupts you, and you go rigid. How did he even know?

I asked Jeongin, he mouths, and it only leaves you more confused. Why would he need to know that? It leaves you more embarrassed that you don’t know his exact day, only that it was sometime in September.  

Ningning rambles on, thanking you both for the added perspective and resolving to make things right with her girlfriend. You feel your heart warm at her determination, amazed at the effect that you and Seungmin had already managed to have on your listeners. 

Seungmin closes out the show, the easygoing and carefree chords of Polaroid Love ringing into the mic, and you think to yourself, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

As the sun sets, campus comes alive, buzzing with excitement. You glance out the window, watching students filter out of the library, walking towards the commons for a cup of coffee, or hugging outside their dorms. A deep pang of longing hits your gut, not sure whether its from watching them outside or the fact that you’re cramped here in the tiny studio, band posters all over the walls, and Seungmin is playing Love You For A Long Time, Maggie Rogers�� ethereal voice filling the space between you. 

“Had to ease you into our next listener call,” Seungmin grins into the mic. “This one is – ouch. It might hit home for some of us, I mean you all.”

“Hi, ___ and Seungmin? I’m Joshua, a senior. I’m calling because I have a dilemma – my best friend Seungcheol just started dating my ex, and I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand I wanna be happy for them, but on the other hand, I’m a mess. What would you do if you found out one of you was dating someone else?”

“Oh.” Seungmin breathes out, and he remains there, lips parted like he’s frozen. An awkward silence falls over the studio, and you’re sure Joshua is blinking on the other end of the line, wondering what the hell just happened.

“I’m not sure,” you shudder, thinking of the hypothetical situation. But it wasn’t so hypothetical. You and Seungmin were free to date people. There was nothing stopping you. But it still felt wrong somehow.

“I would give yourself some space, Joshua. Take time to confront your own feelings about this, and when you’re ready you can decide what to do. Let yourself heal first.”

“That’s a good answer,” Seungmin whispers, and you panic, muttering out a rushed goodbye before cutting the broadcast.

“Wow,” you sigh. “That was, I–, I guess I didn’t think of that when I suggested this.”

“Think of what?” Seungmin’s eyes glimmer with interest, and he leans in closer.

“How shit would get so deep? Like how would I actually react if that happened to me? I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Sometimes this feels almost like we’re not pretending,” Seungmin murmurs, a strained laugh escaping his throat, a mask for the change in his tone. 

You’re not sure what you want to say, but it feels like you should say something. The moment hangs heavy in between you two, and you don’t remember how Seungmin got so close, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“Seungmin, I–” 

“You had a piece of hair in your face,” he responds, straightening up to stretch his arms. “It’s late, want me to grab you an americano?”

Shaking your head, you manage to muster up a weak response, telling him to go ahead without you. He nods slightly, before throwing his jacket on and slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

An unsettling dilemma dawns on you – this was supposed to be an act, but why did it feel so real?

“You know,” Jeongin’s loud chewing echoes in the dining hall, Seungmin bristling as he watches his friend stuff five french fries into his mouth at once. “I should revoke your roommate privileges for this stunt you pulled. I thought you were grumpy before, but breaking up with ____ has taken it to a whole new level.”

Seungmin scowls, cursing under his breath at Jeongin. Yanking his headphones out of his ears, the lamenting tune of These Days by Wallows cuts off abruptly. 

Outside the rain patters, echoing his stormy emotions. Over the course of the past week, his mood had felt like he was on the world’s most nausea-inducing roller coaster ride. The highs were the times he got to spend with you in the studio, cracking jokes and watching your eyes shine as the two of you came up with the next devious plot for the show. The lows were the knot in his stomach every time someone would call in with a question that hit a little too hard.

After this week, he was glad the show would end, and maybe you guys could go back to the way things were before. That easy, comfortable dynamic that always existed between you two.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin sees the way his eyes zone out, like he can read Seungmin’s mind. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking and it’s absolute bullshit. You’re in too deep, hyung.”

“I’ll fucking punch you,” Seungmin hisses. “What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Just spill to ___ that this isn’t some game for me? That my feelings are real? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Hyung–”

A gasp echoes from behind him, and Seungmin turns to see you behind him. Your lip trembles, and you lock eyes with him, a tear escaping the corner before you’re turning on your heels, running out of the dining hall. 

Seungmin stands there, frozen with the weight of what he’d just confessed, heart sinking to his shoes. All of a sudden, he feels a sharp jab to his arm, Jeongin’s fist colliding with it.

“What are you waiting for? Run!”

The rain pelts the back of Seungmin’s neck as he runs, indifferent to the fact that he’s probably soaked to the bone, slipping and sliding along the cobblestone. He can make out your figure storming ahead furiously, like you can’t get away fast enough, and he speeds up, panic in his voice.

“___, wait! Please stop.”

His voice turns hoarse from all the yelling, and he’s about to give up, turn back in defeat (and go sock Jeongin cry into his friend’s shoulder), when you stop under a streetlight, your figure slumping. 

Seungmin is by your side in moments, not caring that he takes your hands in his, blowing on them to give you warmth.

“Y-you d-don’t even h-have an umbrella, w-what were y-you thinking?” he chatters, and he watches your lips turn up in a smile. But your eyes remain downcast.

“What about you?” you whisper, and Seungmin cocks his head, looking at you in confusion.

“I left my jacket in the dining hall with Jeongin—”

“No Seungmin, I mean what about you?” your voice croaks desperately. 

Seungmin takes a deep breath. There was no use in pretending anymore.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do,” he chokes out.

You take his hands in yours and Seungmin feels dizzy. The cold rain no longer bothers him, warmth filling his veins from the inside out.

“You think?” you sniffle.

“I know. I know I’ve been in love with you, since the day you walked into the studio and pitched your ideas for five-star dorm meals.”

“I really like your hands,” you blurt out, and Seungmin’s eyes widen in shock. That was not the response you’d been expecting.

“They’re warm when mine are always cold, I like the way they look when they’re holding a pencil, or when you bring me a cup of coffee. I like your voice too – the way you sing along to Day6 when you think no one is listening, or your annoying little laugh–”

“It is not annoying–”

You press a finger to his lips, and Seungmin thinks he might just evaporate. 

“Not now, Min. I’m trying to say something here. What I’m trying to say is that if there’s anything this whole week has taught me, it’s how much I like you. How much I want to have those crappy problems that everyone complains about with you, how much I want to celebrate birthdays with you, and anniversaries with you, and how I think I might collapse inside if I ever saw you with someone else—”

It’s Seungmin’s turn to interrupt you now,  cold lips colliding with yours, the initial shock replaced with heat. Your hands burrow into his hair and he draws you closer, hands weaving around your waist. The startled, frantic sounds of your breathing did nothing to help the pounding of his heart, and he wonders if you can hear it too. 

In this moment, Seungmin never wants to let go, holding you steady against him even when you part, your breath fanning in the cold air. 

“I just, I, needed to be honest. No more pretending.”

“No more pretending,” he smiles against your lips, nudging his nose against yours.

The wet slap of shoes against the pavement interrupts you both, turning to see the Jeongin behind you, Seungmin’s jacket in his arms. He takes in the sight of you two wrapped around each other, a smug grin lighting up his entire face.

“Hell yeah! It worked!”

“___ and Seungmin signing off, this is Tune in For Love on The Sound FM, and we’ve loved having you this week!”

The air in the studio buzzes with a different kind of excitement – the dreamy notes of Hypnotized by The Weston Estate filling up the room.

“Before we go, we have something to share with you–” your voice wobbles, and Seungmin reaches out immediately, squeezing your hand.

“Please send your email petitions in so our show doesn’t get canceled, but we’ve been faking it this whole time. We’re not actually exes.”

You can almost hear the collective gasp across campus, the soundboard going crazy as it lights up with calls.

“We are, as of yesterday, the happiest, and newest–, couple on campus,” Seungmin beams, his pride echoing through the mic and your heart lurches at how right it feels to be his.

You hit the answer button, the lines flooding with congratulations and well-wishes to the news.

“Congrats!” Ningning’s voice echoes. “I always thought you were the cutest together.”

“You make me want to find someone of my own now,” Joshua says in the background, and the studio fills with you and Seungmin’s laughter.

When the last call goes through, Jeongin gives you both a thumbs up, shutting off the soundboard. 

You turn to Seungmin, heart racing. 

“I can’t believe we actually did this,” he says,  half-laughing.

“Me neither,” you reply, a soft smile on his lips. “But I’m really glad we did. It feels… right, you know?”

“Thanks for being part of this with us,” he echoes through the airwaves, his voice sincere. “We’re excited to see what’s next—together. And while the show may be over, we hope you’ll still tune in for love every single week — no matter the topic.”

“Next – how to cook a five star meal worthy of any restaurant using just your dorm microwave…”

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[theladybrownstarot]

MONTHLY-READING

2024 MAY 2024

Pick a card reading ~

❀ Here's my masterlist for more !

❀ Make sure you like/follow/reblogg for more pacs like these!

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

𐙚 Pile 1 .

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

☪︎ The first half of your pile no.1 is all about connecting with your intuition or the very deeper side yourself . Now , from what I sense , a secret is being revealed which could be of any kind also this month your intuition will be the protector and solution to all your queries and problems so stop taking tension and control your emotions because most of you will have mood swings .

☪︎ The second phase of your will be about collaboration , adjustments and being introduced to things or people in general , You are making better decisions and choices for yourself which will make your work easy . If you had financial trouble or issues/any important talk with second or third party can be seen here taking a good turn .

☪︎ The last phase of your month is about releasing of any strong patterns in your life or anything in general which is getting released slowly slowly , you are seem to be patient this month regrading things as it feels like you are shifting your energies or anything in general with patience for long term . Its more like preparing yourself for something . Be cautious of your money usage and job.

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : 333/444 can be a number you may see quite often and date 18th is quite important for you .

A wish you made is coming true but work hard to keep events cool as things may unfold more .

Take some break or take action for same and adjust .

Connect with your emotions more otherwise emotional explosion may happen .

Surrender your things to divine whole heartedly .

❀ Prominent zodicas and houses : Pisces, Capricorn , taurus , Virgo , 4th house , 1st house, 6th house , 5th house , Jupiter and Neptune .

𐙚 Pile 2 .

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading :-

☪︎ The first half of the month will be about completion of a cycle happily at last , good moments with family and people . You may get some sort of achievements that you always wanted . It will be calm ,joyful and happy. Some sort pregnancy possible.

☪︎ The second phase about your month is all about taking charge and going ahead with the things fastly but in an aggressive manner which is not good because it is possible that a conflict may emerge out of this or in general so calm your horses .

☪︎ The third phase of the month is all about disbalancing the balanced and then balancing the disbalanced . A lot of fastness in nature will lead to disbalance and instability of things you created all again so be cautious. You need to prioritise things because handing a lot or more than your plate could result in failure .

☪︎ There could be a feminine figure you may be dealing with who has a negative influence on you . You need to focus on your things not people whom you have conflicts with otherwise you will end up regretting .

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : You need to make adjustments and compromises with the things .

please be patient and do not hurry for more till your sown seeds grow.

A balanced communication is required for something important or balance your self talk .

win is coming .

release any negativity if you are holding onto no grudges please .

❀ Prominent zodiacs and houses: libra , aquarius , gemini , cancer , scorpio , pisces , libra , taurus , capricorn , eight house , 7th house , mercury and moon .

𐙚 Pile 3.

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :-

☪︎ Okay , In the first phase of may i see you people chasing after something or running for something that you want more than anything else , you are constant and high with speed for anything you are working for also this may lead you behind some things which may needs your focus . Be focused but be alert too .

☪︎ In the second phase of your month you are letting the guard down , moving in a flow like a river calm and giving attention to all that requires but there's warning do not use any unethical way to get things done , also be cautious as someone may deceive you ; the person appears to be sweet but isn't. Don't self sabotage your feelings too .

☪︎ The last phase will be quite tough as struggles will be their in any form you can expect accordingly to your context . You need to put this thing in your head that don't give up.

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : success is close , just try as you are being tested.

deal with your emotions now and take actions.

make sure you don't blow events out of proportion.

Shift your perception .

shed your old skin

❀ Prominent zodiacs and houses : gemini , libra , aquarius , capricorn , taurus , virgo, scorpio , cancer , leo and aries , 10th house , 11th house , 2nd house and 3rd house .

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing Or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[kithtaehyung]

minted: part two (snippet) (m) | myg

snippet: minted: part two (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au series: masterlist | part one summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! enjoy this snippet since i missed the initial part two drop! note 2: this series is for @sailoryooons, @joonary, and @minttangerines! love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma, poor reader :(((, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee…, tension, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn est. drop date: september 16th, 2024 snippet word count: 1.5k est. total word count: 9k >:))

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There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not because it’s the source of multiple health aspects, or the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you released your hand or if Yoongi let it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm, and the voice you hear courses through your ears, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. Nor man, for that matter.

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him than you are by yourself right now. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with Yoongi, either. You don’t even know who he is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a hotel employee, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions and words you can’t name.

Yeah.

You fucked up.

Fuck.

-

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tbc. :))

-

are we ready for the drop?! | join the taglist!

a/n: this is just the beginning!! who knowwwws what's gonna happen during the rest of the 9k+ lsdkfjdskl thank you all so much for hanging in there for me as i navigate multiple hobbies and endeavors. it means a lot to see your words of encouragement! always appreciated, and i hope you look forward to the real drop hehehe. more links: masterlist

[sassycheesecake]

Hii I love ur blog and I was wondering if you could do hc's of salusa kiyoomi, komori motoya, atsumu miya, and hoshiumis type of s/o? Thanksss❤️‼️

Hello little cake! Of course I can! I hope it is to your liking ❤️

Kiyoomi Sakusa

I am 95% sure Kiyoomi would have a s/o who is more on the quiet side yet still confident

Since he is dealing with loud teammates on a daily basis timeskip, he prefers it if it’s more quiet

Obviously his s/o can have their silly moments but they should know their boundaries

Kiyoomi would definitely look for a s/o who can take care of themselves, physically and mentally

His s/o would also have to bring great patience and understanding into the beginning of the relationship

It takes some time for the Outside Hitter to warm up to someone

But once his s/o has broken down his walls and melted off the ice-cold facade, Kiyoomi is the most attentive boyfriend

He cleans, he has impeccable hygiene and incredibly smart

He 1000% has a routine for how to do things at his home or how he spends his day, his s/o has to accept his busy schedule and adjust to it

THE BEST LISTENER!

Kiyoomi may not be the best advice giver but if you need to vent, man‘s gonna listen without interruption

Invites you to all his games and you need to wear his jersey

I headcannon Kiyoomi is a very jealous person fight me

Please no nicknames for him (his partner would get the famous scowl)

I can see Kiyoomi dating someone who does not have a lot of contact with other people in their work life, so probably IT or a writer for example

Tolerates medical field workers😂

Motoya Komori

Motoya is on the tier list of golden retriever boyfriends

He’s so understanding, so cute and very romantic

I think it doesn’t really matter to Motoya what his s/o looks like or if his s/o is more quiet or more loud

Motoya grew up with Mr. anxiety himself, so he knows exactly what to do if you have panic attacks or suffer under panic disorders

But with every professional athlete, Motoya needs someone who understands his busy schedule and shouldn’t get mad about him going away for quite a while on away games or longer training days

Trust is everything to Motoya!

His s/o shouldn’t be a sarcastic person, Motoya would get annoyed by it eventually

Lowkey needs Sakusa‘s approval

Motoya has a high social battery, so his s/o should be able to handle lots of meet ups and social outings

His partner should be able to get along with his family, especially Sakusa since he is very close with him

Communication is also very important to Motoya, his s/o NEEDS to tell him if something is bothering them

Atsumu Miya

Cheeky asshole (my bae)

I can see Atsumu going for either a confident person like himself or someone submissive

Either would work but it would be more compatible if his s/o would be more submissive (even in the bedroom)

His s/o would also have to be tolerant of his direct behavior and shouldn’t take everything he says directly to heart (Atsumu can be mean at times and if he’s mad or moody, his s/o shouldn’t be too sensitive about it)

Atsumu needs a s/o who is smaller than him, he is a big teaser and loves to be teased back

S/o shouldn’t be afraid of physical affection, Atsumu is BIG on pda (kissing in public, occasional butt squeezes)

His partner shouldn’t be too clingy, Atsumu is very dedicated to his sport!

If Atsumu loses a game, his partner should be respectful about him wanting alone time or comfort

His partner can be athletic or in not so top shape, yet he would probably prefer one that can somewhat keep up with his stamina and go on runs with him or even train with him

His s/o HAS to get along with his twin brother, if they don’t like each other, it’s an absolute NO-GO for Atsumu (he may never admit it out loud but Osamu is Atsumu‘s whole world besides volleyball)

Kōrai Hoshiumi

Seagull boi

Would need a s/o who doesn’t mind his loud mouth

His s/o should be his number one fan and be quite feisty and a proud character

His partner should definitely be around his height or taller than him

Kōrai is a very competitive person, he would love to have a partner he can have bets with or fight against (like gaming, playing sports etc)

Kōrai doesn’t care what body shape his partner has, he will love them regardless

The bigger nerd his partner is, the better

Would have to be a big fan of animals, since his best friend is a vet and Kōrai occasionally has pets staying with him

Probably will adopt like 2 dogs with his s/o

[tbhyknow2]

TSUBAKI AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND!

notes. the only reason why i got into windbre is because of her and mister white-haired blue-eyed hajime umemiya. (im gonna explode)

contents and warnings. mostly fluff, tsubaki is referred to using she/her pronouns (pls she is heavily transfem-coded), making out (mentioned, non explicit).

✦ Somehow, some way, you managed to get into a relationship with someone as cool and awesome as her! How? Why? You aren't sure, but you don't question it, afraid that it'll backfire on you.

✦ Tsubaki is extremely affectionate and loves PDA. She would hold your hand if you let her to, squeezing it occasionally to make sure you're still hanging onto her. It's a small, little habit that you have formed— a wordless communication.

✦ Sometimes, when she sees you from a distance, she'll run up to you and either greet you with a hug or surpise you with a hug from behind. Forgive her if she buries her face into your hair and smells your shampoo, it makes her giddy when you use the new scented shampoo she recommended you.

✦ More often than not, you'll find lipstick marks all over you when she goes to attack you with kisses. It's a fun surprise whenever you suddenly find a mark on your forehead or on your jaw... It's kind of embarrassing, but hey, that's love you suppose.

✦ If you aren't comfortable with PDA, Tsubaki will understand and will adjust to be more affectionate behind closed doors.

✦ She loves to have sleepovers at your place, even more so when your parents are so welcoming and accepting of her. You'd guys have self-care sessions, pulling out skin-care kits and applying facemasks while watching a movie together; Sometimes, you'd have long rant-filled talks about random things you guys find interest in. The sleepovers often end in either cuddling or makeout sessions that also ends up in cuddling.

✦ Uses pet names, but to the point it's unbearingly sweet. Most of the time, it's the slip of a tongue like "Could pass me the salt, darling?", "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry" and "Don't keep me waiting, Angel"... And the other half is just teasing because she just loves watching you become all flustered.

✦ She's also easily flustered, so you guys have flirting competitions and the first to become shy loses. It's a cute, little bonding moment!

✦ Shopping dates are a must! It's practically a ritual for you both. At first, she brought you along, so you can give your honest opinion whenever she tries out new accesories or outfits. But when you start to do the same, you bet she'll be hyping you up. Even more so when you're the type to stick in your personal bubble and avoid new things.

✦ She's the kind of girlfriend that'll introduce you to things you never thought of trying before, but you're glad you did because it makes you so happy! And that's her number one goal when it comes to you.

✦ Whenever you're feeling down, she's there to comfort you. If you need a calm voice to listen to, she's there to sit beside you and offer her shoulder to dry your tears. She'll pat your head and tell you everything's going to be alright, and just lots of encouraging things.

✦ She'd do anything she can to distract you from your thoughts, even going as far as take out on dates and have you focus on being happy instead of whatever your problem is.

✦ Tsubaki just cares so much and loves you lots, and she wants you to be is comfortable around her. So if you have a problem with anything (i.e loud noises, crowds, being uncomfortable with affection), she'll understand and adjust. All she asks is you do the same for her as well!

✦ With her, people don't even make you a target. I mean, she is one of the four heavenly kings in Boufurin. Anyone who messes with her beloved, messes with her.

✦ If anyone dares to push their luck, well... They best be prepared because she isn't going to let that slide.

✦ And after she's done teaching them a very important lesson on how to keep their noses in their own business, she's off to giving you all the love and affection you deserve, making you forget all about anyone that tried to hurt you.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 3

read chapter 1 - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of... Sex..aftercare..limits..NDA..discomfort...virginity..masturbation..anxity, Dom and Sub dynamics, Drinking , food, kissing, making out, Joel starts to get a little obsessive or toxic, Partying THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: Finally 21 its time to celebrate in more ways than one.

WC: 6.8K

A/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, In a week I've become an aunt and had crazy work shifts but I'm here and ready to deliver greatness my loves

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

It had been a week since you last saw Joel. He kept you up to date with messages and calls every so often, but he and Tommy had been super busy with a job site. You were still at your desk in your dorm, drawing in your sketchbook, when Faith burst in dramatically with balloons and a gift bag.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU, HAPPYYYYY BIRTHDAY!” Faith sang in a deep, raspy voice, pretending to be a jazz singer, making you laugh. “HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!” She put the stuff down and got down on her knees, taking your hand and making you laugh even harder. “My lovely hot best friend, 21 and as sexy as ever!” She dragged you up out of your chair. “A bar full of hot men is needed to celebrate now that you can drink legally.”

You couldn't help but smile at her infectious energy. “Faith, you’re crazy,” you said, but you let her pull you to your feet.

"Crazy about celebrating my best friend’s birthday!" Faith declared, grabbing your coat and practically shoving it into your hands with a gleeful urgency. "Come on, we’re hitting up the best dive bar in town. Drinks, dancing, and maybe a little bit of trouble!"

There was no way you could say no to Faith, especially not on your birthday. You hurried to get ready, slipping on your favorite dress—a deep blue number that hugged your curves in all the right places—and a pair of heels that gave you just the right amount of height. You quickly did your makeup, adding a touch of shimmer to your eyelids and a bold swipe of red lipstick.

As you both stepped out into the cool night air, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was your first time celebrating your birthday since you and Joel had started seeing each other, and the thought of him not knowing it was your birthday left a strange feeling in your chest. But tonight, you decided to focus on having fun with Faith.

The dive bar Faith chose was lively and buzzing with energy. Neon lights flickered, casting colorful glows across the room. The sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and upbeat music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was both intoxicating and inviting.

“To the birthday girl!” Faith cheered, raising her glass.

“To a night of fun!” you replied, clinking your glass against hers before downing the shot. The burn of the alcohol was invigorating, and you felt yourself loosening up as the evening progressed.

As you sipped on your cocktail, Faith leaned in with a mischievous grin. “So, how’s it really going with Joel? Is he keeping up with your needs?”

You blushed, looking down at your drink. “It’s been... interesting. He’s supportive and kind, but sometimes it feels overwhelming. Like, I don’t know if I can keep up with everything he wants.”

Faith raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is it the sex?”

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. “No, it’s more than that. It’s just everything happening so fast. I’m trying to adjust, but it’s not easy.”

Faith nodded understandingly. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in. But if anyone can handle it, it’s you. Just take it one day at a time.”

You smiled, feeling grateful for her support. “Thanks, Faith. I needed to hear that.”

Faith took a sip of her drink and gave you a probing look. “So, what are the rules with you and Joel? Like, are you exclusive or...?”

You hesitated, feeling a knot form in your stomach. “We don’t really have any rules. We never talked about it, so I don’t know what’s okay and what’s not. It’s confusing.”

Faith’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you’re seeing this guy, and you don’t even know if you can flirt with other guys or not? That’s... kind of messed up.”

You bit your lip, feeling even more unsure. “I know. It’s just... everything’s been moving so fast, and with him being so busy, we haven’t had a chance to sit down and talk about it.”

Faith shook her head, a hint of frustration in her voice. “Girl, you need to get this sorted. You can’t just be in limbo, not knowing where you stand. It’s not fair to you.”

You sighed, swirling your drink. “I know. I just don’t want to pressure him, especially with everything going on. But at the same time, I need to know what’s okay and what’s not.”

Faith leaned in closer, her tone a mix of concern and determination. “You have to talk to him. Otherwise, you’re just going to drive yourself crazy. And if he can’t give you a straight answer, then maybe he’s not the right guy for you.”

You nodded, appreciating her honesty. “You’re right. I need to talk to him.”

Later, as you both sat at the bar, catching your breath, Faith nudged you playfully. “You know, Joel might be busy now, but he’ll come around. And when he does, he better make it up to you for missing your birthday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “He didn’t even know it was my birthday, Faith.”

Faith’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Seriously? Oh man, we have to make sure he makes it up to you big time.”

You shrugged, trying to hide the small pang of disappointment. “It’s okay. He’s got a lot on his plate.”

“Well, tonight is about you,” Faith declared, raising her glass once more. “To you, and to the best year yet!” 

“To the best year yet,” you echoed, clinking your glass with hers. As you looked around the bar, filled with laughter and life, a renewed sense of determination welled up inside you. You would figure things out with Joel, one step at a time. But for now, you were going to enjoy your birthday, surrounded by the love and support of your best friend.

The night continued in a whirlwind of laughter, dancing, and drinks. The dive bar, with its pulsating music and dim neon lights, became a haven of freedom. Faith, ever the life of the party, had you dancing on tables and belting out karaoke songs with a fervor that had the entire bar cheering.

You laughed until your sides ached, twirling around the dance floor with Faith as your partner in crime. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the vibrant, intoxicating atmosphere of the bar. Faith's infectious energy kept you going, her enthusiasm pushing you to let loose and embrace the moment.

“Another round!” Faith shouted, her voice slurring slightly as she ordered more shots. You both downed the fiery liquid, the alcohol coursing through your veins and amplifying the sense of reckless abandon.

Somewhere between the third and fourth shot, you found yourself on the dance floor, the music a throbbing backdrop to your blurry vision. Faith was right beside you, her arm around your shoulder as you both swayed to the rhythm.

“You know,” Faith said, her voice loud in your ear over the music, “we should call Joel. Get him down here to celebrate properly!”

You blinked, the thought swirling in your foggy mind. “Faith, he’s busy,” you managed to say, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

Faith waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense! He needs to be here! It’s your birthday, after all!” She fumbled for her phone, her fingers slipping on the screen.

“You sure?” you asked, the idea of Joel seeing you in such a state making you both nervous and excited. 

“Absolutely!” Faith declared, her determination unwavering despite her drunken state. She tapped away on her phone, her face illuminated by the screen. “There, message sent. Now we wait!”

As the minutes ticked by, you both continued to drink and laugh, the world around you becoming a blur of colors and sounds. Faith convinced you to join her in another round of shots, and you lost track of how many you had consumed.

The bar seemed to spin around you, and you clung to Faith, giggling uncontrollably. “I love you, Faith,” you slurred, the words coming out in a jumbled mess. “You’re the best friend ever.”

Faith grinned, her eyes equally glazed. “And I love you, birthday girl. This is the best night ever!” She raised her glass, though it wobbled in her grip. “To us!”

“To us!” you echoed, though your coordination was failing. The glasses clinked precariously, spilling some of the contents onto the bar.

Time became a haze, and the last thing you remembered was Faith’s voice, insistent and a bit more serious. “Okay, maybe we should... we should call Joel again. Make sure he knows... knows we need him.”

You nodded, though the movement made the room tilt. “Yeah, good idea.”

Faith tried to dial his number, her hands barely cooperating. After a few attempts, she thrust the phone into your hands. “You do it. I can’t... can’t see straight.”

With some effort, you managed to find Joel’s contact and hit call. The phone rang and rang, and just as you were about to give up, his voice came through, sounding distant and concerned.

“Hey?”

“Joel!” you practically shouted, your words slurring together. “We’re... we’re at the bar. You should come... come here.”

There was a pause on the other end, then Joel’s voice, a mixture of confusion and worry. “Are you okay? Where exactly are you?”

You turned to Faith, trying to remember the name of the bar. She mumbled something incoherent, and you relayed the message as best as you could. “We’re at... at the Dive Shack. Come celebrate... my birthday.”

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice firm. “Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.”

The call ended, and you handed the phone back to Faith, a triumphant smile on your face. “He’s coming.”

Faith cheered, though it came out as more of a drunken squeal. “Joel to the rescue!”

As the night wore on, you and Faith continued your wild celebration, oblivious to the time or the curious glances from the other patrons. The bar seemed to tilt and spin, the neon lights blurring into streaks of color.

Eventually, you felt a pair of strong hands on your shoulders, steadying you. You turned to see Joel’s familiar face, his expression a mix of relief and mild exasperation.

“Alright, ladies,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Time to get you both home.”

Faith giggled, leaning heavily against him. “Joel! You made it! We were just... just talking about you.”

Joel shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “I can see that. Let’s get you both out of here.”

Joel managed to steer you and Faith out of the bar, his strong arms supporting both of you as you stumbled along the sidewalk. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the bar, and it helped clear your head a little. 

Joel’s truck was parked nearby, and he carefully helped you into the passenger seat, making sure you were buckled in before turning his attention to Faith. She was swaying slightly, a goofy grin on her face as she leaned against the side of the truck.

“Faith, come on, let’s get you in the back seat,” Joel said, his voice gentle but firm.

Faith giggled, clumsily climbing into the back of the truck. “Joel, you’re such a hero,” she said, her words slurring together.

Joel sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “Just doing what I can.”

Once you were both secured, Joel climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine and the occasional murmurs from Faith the only sounds breaking the silence. You leaned your head against the window, the cool glass soothing your throbbing head.

When you arrived at Joel’s place, he carefully helped you both out of the truck and into the house. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of comfort, and you felt your body relax a little as Joel guided you inside.

“Alright, you two sit tight for a minute,” Joel said, helping you and Faith onto the couch. “I’m going to call Tommy to come pick up Faith.”

You nodded, your head feeling heavy as you leaned back against the cushions. Faith, however, had other ideas. As soon as Joel stepped into the other room to make the call, she quietly got up and made her way over to Joel’s mini bar.

“Faith, what are you doing?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur.

Faith grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Just one more drink to celebrate, okay? Joel’s got some good stuff here.”

You groaned, knowing this was a bad idea. “Faith, we’ve had enough.”

Faith ignored you, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She poured a generous amount into each glass and handed one to you. “Come on, just one more. For your birthday.”

You hesitated, but Faith’s infectious energy and the lingering effects of the alcohol made it hard to resist. You took the glass, clinking it against hers. “Just one more,” you agreed, taking a sip.

The burn of the whiskey was both familiar and comforting, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. Faith giggled, taking another sip of her drink. “See? This is how you celebrate.”

Joel returned just as you were finishing your drink, his eyes widening in surprise. “Faith, seriously? More drinks?”

Faith shrugged, a playful smile on her face. “Just one more for the birthday girl.”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, enough. Tommy’s on his way. Let’s just sit down and wait for him.”

He guided you both back to the couch, sitting down next to you and taking the glass from your hand. “You alright?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Joel.”

Joel gave you a reassuring smile, his hand gently squeezing yours. “Good. We’ll get Faith home, and then you can get some rest.”

A few minutes later, Tommy arrived, his expression a mix of amusement and concern as he took in the scene. “Looks like you two had quite the night,” he said, shaking his head with a grin.

Joel helped Faith up, guiding her towards Tommy. “She’s all yours. Thanks for coming to get her.”

Tommy chuckled, taking Faith’s arm. “No problem. You two get some rest.”

As Tommy and Faith left, Joel turned to you, his expression softening. Joel gently guided you to the couch, but the alcohol coursing through your veins made it difficult to stay quiet. As he pulled the covers up around you, the frustration and confusion of the past few weeks bubbled to the surface.

“Joel,” you began, your voice slurred but laced with bitterness. “Why are you so busy all the time?”

Joel paused, his hand lingering on the edge of the blanket. “You know how it is, the job site’s been hectic. But I’m here now.”

You shook your head, the room spinning slightly with the motion. “It’s not just tonight, Joel. It feels like you’re always too busy. I barely see you, and when I do, it’s like I’m just an afterthought.”

Joel’s expression tightened, his patience wearing thin. “I’m doing my best to make this work. Maybe you could try understanding that.”

You sat up suddenly, the alcohol making you bold and reckless. “It's not just that. It’s... it’s the contract. I can’t stop thinking about it. We never even talked about it.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion. “The contract? What do you mean?”

You felt a surge of anger, your words spilling out in a rush. “I don’t know where I stand with you, Joel. Are we exclusive? Am I allowed to go out and flirt with other guys? I don’t even know the rules!”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought we were on the same page. Do you really need everything spelled out for you?”

“How could we be on the same page when we haven’t even read the same book?” you shot back, your voice rising. “I need to know what’s okay and what’s not. I need to know where I stand with you.”

Joel’s face tightened with frustration. “We’re together, aren’t we? I thought that was clear. Do I really need to put it in writing for you?”

Your anger flared again, the alcohol amplifying your emotions. “You know what else I can’t stop thinking about? How you ate me out but haven’t even taken my virginity yet. What the hell is that about?”

Joel’s eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled over his words. “I... I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to make sure you were ready.”

“Ready?” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve been dancing around this for a month, Joel. Do you even want me, or am I just some project to you?”

Joel moved closer, his expression hardening. “Of course I want you. But you can’t have it both ways. One minute you’re saying I’m rushing you, the next you’re saying I’m not moving fast enough. Make up your mind.”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, and you struggled to form coherent thoughts. “I don’t know what I want! I just know this... this isn’t working. I feel lost, Joel.”

Joel’s tone turned cold. “Maybe if you stopped overthinking everything and just let things happen, you’d be happier. But no, you have to question everything, complicate everything.”

You pulled away, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt. “I need clarity, Joel. I need to know what this is.”

“Fine,” Joel said, his voice flat. “We’re together. We’re exclusive. Happy now?”

You shook your head, feeling the room spin again. “It’s not that simple. I need to feel secure, to know you’re committed.”

Joel’s patience snapped. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve been trying to balance everything—work, you, my own life. But it’s never enough for you, is it?”

You bit your lip, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “We need to figure this out, Joel. I need to know where I stand with you.”

Joel nodded curtly. “We will. But for now, get some rest. Maybe things will look different in the morning.”

You lay back down, the exhaustion and emotions finally overtaking you. Joel stayed by your side, but his presence felt more like a reminder of the tension between you than a comfort. As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from resolved.

The sunlight streamed through the window, intensifying the pounding in your head. You groaned, trying to bury yourself deeper into the couch cushions, but it was no use. The hangover had its grip on you, and there was no escaping it.

Joel walked in, a smug grin on his face. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

You squinted up at him, your head feeling like it was being squeezed in a vise. “What time is it?” you mumbled.

“Almost noon,” Joel replied, handing you a glass of water and some painkillers. “Thought you might need these.”

You took them gratefully, gulping down the water. “Thanks. I feel like death.”

Joel chuckled, sitting down next to you. “I’m not surprised. You drank enough to knock out a linebacker last night. I didn’t know you had such a high tolerance.”

You winced, trying to piece together the events of the previous night. “Yeah, well, I don’t usually drink like that. Guess I found my limit.”

Joel’s grin widened. “You found it alright. But hey, at least you can finally drink legally now. No more sneaking around.”

You managed a weak smile, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly. “True. One perk of turning 21.”

Joel’s expression turned more serious, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “So, how much do you remember about last night?”

You frowned, trying to sift through the hazy memories. “Bits and pieces. I remember Faith dragging me to a bar and us having a few too many drinks. After that, it’s kind of a blur.”

Joel leaned back, crossing his arms. “Interesting. You were pretty chatty last night. Said some things you might not remember.”

Your heart sank, a sense of dread creeping in. “Like what?”

Joel’s grin returned, a bit too gleeful for your liking. “Oh, you know, just some deep, heartfelt confessions about our relationship. But don’t worry, nothing too serious.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge his expression. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, still grinning. “You were just really honest about how you’ve been feeling. But it’s fine, we can talk about it later when you’re feeling better.”

You felt a surge of anxiety. “Joel, please, just tell me what I said.”

Joel laughed softly, patting your hand. “Relax, it’s nothing bad. You were just a bit emotional, that’s all. It was actually kind of cute. I’ll tell you all about it once you’ve recovered.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never drinking that much again.”

Joel leaned in, his tone turning teasing. “Well, now you know your limit. And hey, at least you got all those feelings out in the open. Maybe it’s a good thing.”

You peered up at him through your fingers, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. “I guess so. But can we just pretend last night didn’t happen?”

Joel smirked, shaking his head. “No can do. But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. Just try to remember next time that you’re a lightweight.”

You managed a weak laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Deal. And thanks for taking care of me last night.”

Joel’s expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. “Anytime. Now, let’s get you something to eat. You’ll feel better with some food in your system.”

It had been a few days since the night out with Faith and the unexpected, blurry encounter with Joel. Life resumed its usual pace, filled with classes, assignments, and late-night study sessions. Despite trying to focus, your mind often drifted back to that night. You hadn’t seen Joel since then, but he had been texting sporadically, his messages lacking their usual warmth and enthusiasm. Something felt off, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted between you.

You were at your desk, working on a school assignment, when Faith barged into your dorm room with her usual energy. “Hey, birthday girl! How’s it going?”

You looked up from your laptop, managing a small smile. “Hey, Faith. Just drowning in work as usual.”

Faith flopped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Well, I’m here to rescue you. We need to talk about your birthday night and what’s been going on since then.”

You sighed, setting aside your laptop. “Honestly, it’s been weird. Joel’s been acting kind of distant. I don’t know if it’s because of something I did or what.”

Faith’s eyes widened with interest. “Spill the details. What happened after we called him to pick us up?”

You frowned, trying to piece together the foggy memories. “I remember arguing with him, but it’s all a blur. I was pretty drunk, and I don’t remember everything I said.”

Faith sat up, a serious expression on her face. “Do you think you said something that upset him?”

You shrugged, feeling a knot of worry in your stomach. “Maybe. But he hasn’t mentioned it. He’s just been... odd. Like, he’s texting me, but it feels different. Distant.”

Faith pursed her lips, thinking. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“No,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m not sure if he’s mad at me or if something else is going on.”

Faith stood up, determination in her eyes. “Well, let’s get you out of this funk. How about we go out for a coffee or something? Clear your head?”

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

As you both grabbed your coats and headed out, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety. What if things were changing with Joel? You pushed the thought aside, focusing on Faith’s chatter as you walked to the nearby café.

The café was cozy, with the comforting aroma of coffee beans and soft background music. You and Faith found a corner table, and she immediately launched into a story about her latest class project, making you laugh and momentarily forget your worries.

Midway through your latte, your phone buzzed with a message. You glanced at the screen and saw it was from Joel.

“Finished the big project. Want to celebrate tonight? Dinner at 7?”

You stared at the message, a mix of relief and apprehension washing over you. Before you could respond, Faith leaned over to read the screen.

“Ooh, dinner date! Looks like he wants to make things right,” she said, winking.

You bit your lip, unsure. “I don’t know. What if it’s awkward?”

Faith waved her hand dismissively. “Just go. Talk things out. And if he’s being weird, call him out on it. You deserve to know what’s going on.”

With Faith’s encouragement, you texted back.

“Sure. 7 sounds good. See you then.”

Joel responded quickly.

“Great. I’ll pick you up”.

You spent the rest of the afternoon working on your assignment, though your mind kept drifting to the upcoming dinner. As the clock ticked closer to 7, Faith took charge, helping you pick out an outfit and doing your hair.

“You look amazing,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “Joel’s going to kick himself for acting weird.”

You smiled, though the nerves in your stomach hadn’t eased. “Thanks, Faith. I just hope we can clear the air tonight.”

When Joel arrived, he was dressed sharply, holding a bouquet of flowers that added a touch of elegance to the evening. You felt a flicker of hope at the sight, though the cautious tension between you was hard to ignore.

The restaurant he chose was upscale, with dim lighting and a sophisticated ambiance. As you both settled into a corner table, Joel ordered a bottle of red wine. The waiter asked for your ID, and you fumbled slightly before handing it over. Joel, of course, wasn’t IDed, which made you feel a bit self-conscious.

Once the waiter left, Joel leaned back in his chair, giving you a warm smile. “You look amazing tonight,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious.

“Thanks,” you replied, returning the smile. “You look pretty good yourself.”

The wine arrived, and the waiter poured two glasses. Joel raised his glass. “To finishing projects and new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” you echoed, clinking your glass against his. The wine was rich and smooth, and the warmth spread through you as you took a sip.

Joel’s demeanor was celebratory, almost too much so. He didn’t mention the argument from your birthday, acting as if nothing had happened. His eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and charm, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in despite the lingering tension.

The conversation meandered through light topics—work, mutual friends, plans for the summer. You found yourself relaxing slightly, the wine helping to ease your nerves. Joel was attentive and flirty, his hand occasionally brushing yours, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer than usual.

Halfway through the meal, Joel reached into his wallet and pulled out a check, casually placing it on the table. Your eyes widened as you saw the amount—$300,000, the payment from the auction. You almost choked on your wine.

“Joel, what’s this?” you asked, your voice a mix of surprise and confusion.

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s the payment from the auction. I thought you should see it.”

You stared at the check, feeling a mix of awe and uncertainty. “That’s a lot of money.”

“It is,” he agreed, taking another sip of his wine. “But it’s for us. To help us start something new. I didn’t want it to be about the money. I wanted it to be about us.”

You nodded, still processing the magnitude of the situation. “This is... overwhelming.”

Joel reached across the table, taking your hand. “I know. But we’ll figure it out together.”

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of delicious food and comfortable conversation. Joel’s attentiveness and charm made it easy to forget the argument from your birthday, though a part of you still felt a lingering unease.

As dessert arrived, Joel leaned in, his expression turning more serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, his eyes searching yours. “I know things have been intense, and I’ve been busy, but I want you to know that I’m serious about this. About us.”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. “I’ve been thinking a lot too.”

Joel took a deep breath, his gaze steady. “I want you to move in with me. I think it’s the next step for us.”

The proposition hung in the air between you. Your mind raced with thoughts and feelings. “Move in with you?” you echoed, trying to process the idea.

“Yeah,” Joel said, his tone earnest. “I know it’s a big step, but I want to build a life with you. I want to come home to you.”

You looked down at your hands, your mind spinning. “Joel, we’ve only known each other for a month. This is all so fast.”

He nodded, understanding. “I know it’s fast, but sometimes you just know, you know? And I know I want this. I want you.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “I don’t know, Joel. It’s a lot to take in.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “Take your time to think about it. There’s no rush. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

You nodded, appreciating his patience. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

As Joel walked you back to your dorm room door after dinner, the air between you was charged with a mix of anticipation and lingering tension. When you reached your door, you turned to him with a playful grin.

"You know, Joel, you've seen your home, but you haven't seen mine yet."

Joel chuckled softly. "True enough. Lead the way."

Entering your dorm, you gestured around the cozy space filled with art supplies, books, and posters of your favorite artists. "Sorry for the mess," you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"It's not a mess," Joel reassured you, looking around with interest. "It's... lived-in."

You chuckled. "Lived-in, exactly."

Joel wandered over to your desk, where your sketchbook lay open with various drawings scattered across the pages. He picked up the sketchbook and flipped through it, admiring your talent.

"I didn't know you were this talented," he remarked, his voice soft with genuine admiration.

Blushing slightly, you replied, "Thanks. Drawing helps me unwind."

Joel nodded, setting the sketchbook down and turning to face you. "I meant what I said earlier. I want us to figure things out together."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a rush of emotions. "I want that too."

Taking a deep breath, you moved to your dresser, grabbing a comfortable T-shirt and leggings to change into. "I'll be right back," you said, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment.

When you returned, Joel was sitting on the edge of your bed, holding your sketchbook. He had ripped a blank page from it, now studying it with a thoughtful expression.

"What's that?" you asked, stepping closer.

Joel looked up, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I found a blank page and thought I'd leave you a note."

You smiled warmly, touched by the gesture. "Thank you," you murmured.

Joel set the sketchbook aside and patted the space beside him on the bed. "Come here."

You joined him, sitting close enough that your shoulders brushed. There was a comfortable silence between you, a sense of closeness and understanding that felt reassuring.

As Joel sat on your bed, he looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, there are a few things I've been thinking about," he began, his tone light and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, curious and a bit apprehensive. "Oh?"

Joel grinned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper. "I made a little list," he confessed, handing it to you.

You took the paper, unfolding it to reveal Joel's neat handwriting. It listed a few bullet points, clearly meant as a mini contract, to outline your relationship's next steps and boundaries without overwhelming you :

1. Take your virginity – When you're ready, we'll take this step together.

2. Try a new restaurant every month – To explore and enjoy new experiences together.

3. Teach you how to play guitar – Sharing a passion and learning something new.

4. Move in with me – Start our life together in my place.

5. Exclusivity – We are committed to each other, no dating or flirting with others.

You looked up at Joel, feeling a mix of emotions. He smiled warmly, his voice soft but firm. "I thought this might help us both know where we stand and what we're looking forward to. No pressure, just a guideline."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief mixed with anticipation. "I appreciate this, Joel. It makes things clearer."

Joel leaned in, his tone becoming more playful. "And remember, these are just starting points. We can add or adjust as we go along. The important thing is that we communicate and take things at our own pace."

You felt a smile spread across your face, the tension easing as you considered the list. "I like that," you said, feeling more confident about your future together.

You looked up at Joel, feeling a mix of emotions. He smiled warmly, his voice soft but firm. "I thought this might help us both know where we stand and what we're looking forward to. No pressure, just a guideline."

As you processed his words, Joel's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "You look stunning tonight," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you smiled shyly. "Thanks, Joel."

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your lips. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and affection. "Every moment we're apart feels like an eternity."

Your heart raced as Joel's lips hovered just inches from yours. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, drawing you closer together. Unable to resist any longer, you closed the gap, your lips meeting in a tender, passionate kiss.

Joel's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. His hand tangled in your hair, while his other hand trailed down your back, sending shivers through your body. You responded eagerly, your hands exploring his broad shoulders and strong back.

As the kiss grew more intense, Joel's playful side emerged. He nipped at your lower lip, making you gasp. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?" he said with a grin, his voice husky with desire.

You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his flirty demeanor. "Good," you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Because you're driving me crazy too."

Joel's eyes sparkled with mischief as he captured your lips again, this time with more urgency. The room seemed to fade away as you lost yourselves in each other, the connection between you growing stronger with every passing second.

The air between you and Joel grew thick with anticipation, his eyes darkening with desire. His hands roamed your body, fingers tracing the curve of your waist as he pulled you closer. Your breaths mingled, the heat building between you with every passing second.

Joel's lips moved from your mouth to your neck, planting a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling with both excitement and need. His response was a low growl, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly to expose more of your skin.

Just as things were about to escalate further, the door suddenly swung open, and Faith barged in. "Hey, I was just—" She stopped abruptly, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. A mischievous giggle escaped her lips, and she quickly shut the door. "Oops, sorry!" she called out from the hallway.

The interruption brought you both back to reality. Joel sighed, resting his forehead against yours. "Seems like we have terrible timing," he said with a chuckle, though his eyes still burned with unfulfilled desire.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. "Yeah, you could say that."

Joel pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist. "We’ll have our moment, don’t worry," he reassured you, his voice tender. "But I should probably get going now. We don’t want to give Faith any more reason to gossip."

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment but understanding the situation. Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before stepping back. "Text me later, okay?" he said, giving you one last lingering look before he left.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Faith burst back into the room, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Oh my God, what did I just walk in on?" she exclaimed, flopping onto your bed with a dramatic sigh.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. "Nothing, Faith. Just... a moment."

"Just a moment?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Looked like a pretty steamy moment to me. Come on, spill. What were you two up to?"

You sighed, sitting down next to her. "We were just talking, and things got a little... heated."

Faith's eyes widened with excitement. "Heated, huh? So, did you two...?"

"No!" you interrupted quickly, blushing furiously. "It didn’t go that far. You interrupted us, remember?"

Faith giggled, not looking the least bit sorry. "Well, you’re welcome for saving you from potential awkwardness. But seriously, how was it? Joel seems like he’d be a great kisser."

You couldn't help but smile at the memory. "He is," you admitted softly. "He’s... amazing."

Faith smirked, nudging you playfully. "Sounds like you’re really falling for him. But just be careful, okay? He’s got that whole mysterious, brooding thing going on. Make sure you know what you’re getting into."

You nodded, appreciating her concern. "I will, Faith. Thanks."

Faith leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "So, what’s next? You two planning another hot makeout session?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I don’t know. We’re taking things one step at a time."

Faith grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, just make sure to give me a heads-up next time. I’d hate to walk in on another 'moment.'"

You laughed again, feeling a sense of relief and camaraderie. "I’ll do my best," you promised, grateful for her nosy but well-meaning presence.

As you and Faith continued to chat, your phone buzzed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you saw Joel's name and felt a flutter of excitement and curiosity.

“Hey, I wanted to make it up to you for missing your birthday. How about a trip next weekend? Don’t worry about the details, just clear your schedule.”

You felt a rush of emotions, a mix of anticipation and relief. Joel was always full of surprises, and this gesture felt particularly significant after the rocky patch you’d been navigating.

"Who’s that?" Faith asked, peering over your shoulder with a grin.

"It’s Joel," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. "He wants to take me on a trip next weekend. He said not to worry about the details and just clear my schedule."

Faith’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Ooh, a romantic getaway! Sounds like he’s trying to make up for missing your birthday. That’s so sweet!"

You nodded, feeling a warm glow of happiness. "Yeah, it is. I guess he really does want to make things right."

Faith nudged you playfully. "So, where do you think he’s taking you? Somewhere exotic? A cozy cabin in the woods?"

You shrugged, a dreamy look in your eyes. "I have no idea. Knowing Joel, it could be anywhere. He loves surprises."

Faith grinned, clearly enjoying your excitement. "Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be amazing. Just make sure to take lots of pictures and tell me all about it when you get back."

You laughed, feeling a sense of gratitude for her enthusiasm. "I will. Thanks for always being so supportive, Faith."

"Anytime, girl," she said, giving you a reassuring hug. "Now, let’s get you ready for this trip. We need to pick out the perfect outfits and make sure you’re prepared for anything."

[cross-word]

GOOD LUCK, BABE

after years Ethan still regrets what he did to you.

Word count: 1162

When I first started to date Ethan I knew he had a best friend Amanda that everyone thought he was dating. All of his ex’s used to warn me on social media but I was never the jealous type.

That was until I received a phone call from a random number in the middle of the night I answer to hear lewd noises, moaning and someone moaning a name “ah, fuck Ethan keep doing that” it took me forever for my eyes to adjust to the light difference but once I realized what was going on.

I realized I’ve seen that number before. On Ethan’s phone labeled as Amanda, my heart broke as I heard her moan his name over and over again “why do you have your phone out” I hear him say, grabbing the phone flipping so that the screen was facing him to see me watching “y/n..” before he can say anything else I hung up going back to sleep.

The next day I felt numb watching your boyfriend fuck his best friend that everyone warned you about is humbling. The whole day I could see Amanda smirking at me from the peripheral vision Ethan kept trying to talk to me. His excuses going into one ear and out, “that was not what you thought”, “that was the first time I ever did that”.

As the day went on Ethan finally did it, he cornered me enough to finally get me to talk to him “please baby” he pleaded “no.” I said in a dead voice “what?” He asked “I said no. You can’t fix this. I watched you fuck your best friend you can’t get back from that no amount of pleading can change that” I told him he stood there hurt. The audacity. “No, baby please I’ll do anything I’ll block her, I’ll get rid of her from my life please just don’t call it off I’m begging” he said.

“I hate you Ethan” I told him, pushing him out of my way. Ethan stood there watching my body as I walked away, as I grew distant from Ethan I heard him and Amanda argue.

That was 15 years ago, that experience taught me that love isn’t a guarantee of trust.

I stood there in the Walmart at almost 9pm picking up groceries for my mom. It was Christmas when I was visiting her when I heard a voice too familiar “y/n?” I turn to see Ethan. He looked older, not in a good way. It seemed like he suffered for those 15 years I didn’t see him.

“Oh, hi Ethan” it was awkward for sure two grown adults that used to have history just staring at each other like they were soul mates. “Ethan baby” I hear coming from behind him a woman I stood face to face with the two people who betrayed me 15 years ago.

“Oh. You're back in town..” Amanda said, staring at me eyes darting to Ethan who hasn’t spoken since we locked eyes, sensing tension rise I walk away. “WAIT” Ethan yelled I paused hoping he wasn’t about to say what I think he will. “Do you wanna come over to our house for dinner to catch up?” He asked. I turn to face him “no, I think it’s best if we don’t talk at all” I say leaving him and Amanda in the aisle.

“Are you okay honey?” My mom knocked me out of my daze. “yeah I’m fine” I smiled at her as petite came up next to me looking for food “I think I’m gonna sleep early mom” I said kissing her head walking back to my childhood room.

A loud ringing hit my ear in the middle of the night. I see my phone vibrating showing me a number, immediately seeing the number “ugh, what is it now” I pick up “is he with you?” Amanda asked in a panic.

“You’re joking right” I asked “no. I had a bad feeling and I woke up. I turn around and I see him gone. Please I’m begging is he with you” she sobs through the phone “listen I don’t care about Ethan or you anymore the faster you two leave me alone the better please stop calling me” I tell her hanging up.

I walk downstairs to grab a cup of water to see headlights flashing into the living room. I wondered who would be driving at this time of day but deep down I knew. I unlocked the door to see the car turn off and Ethan walk out.

Towards me. “Your wife is looking for you” I tell him bluntly “I’m sorry” he says completely falling to his knees melting all the snow on the porch.

“I woke up next to her and I realized I don’t want her, the only reason I stayed with her was because I felt bad for the way we ended,” he confessed with his head in his hands. “I don’t have anything going on for me y/n I’m considered to half of the people in this town as Amanda’s husband” he sobbed. “All I can think about after I saw you at Walmart was the way you talked to me the way you looked at me the way it seemed like with you my whole life was fulfilled” he stared at me tears rolling down his cheeks.

“And what do you want me to do about it?” I asked him, colder than the winter night. Do you want me to say I told you so? Cause if it gets you back to your crying wife I will” I said sternly.

“Ethan” I say crouching down to face level with him “were shoelaces attached together my love, but we were cut no matter how much you’d like to connect us together again it will never happen the tear and used shoelaces will never stay together that’s why you buy new ones” I breathed in “Ethan it’s time to move on, I moved on the second I got that call in the middle of the night, go home. Your wife thinks you're cheating on her” I tell him, walking back inside and locking the door.

As I walk down the aisles of grocery I pass a person “I’m sorry I slept with Ethan” Amanda told me as I pass her we both stopped but the difference is Amanda looked back and I didn’t “you and him need to get over that, I don’t care anymore you two are the only ones keeping that flame alive, maybe it’s your subconscious feeling bad but either way, work it between you two or breakup” I tell her walking away never to look back again.

I woke up in my New York apartment to a voicemail. I recognized it as Ethan’s number. “Amanda asked for a divorce, please answer me I want to be with you” I sighed as I blocked his number.