#I don’t have any hope that it’ll be sooner than later

[symp-honey]

don’t know what to do about this blog. my life has been a shitshow this last half year with no end in sight and I can’t write like this

[jeon-ify]

thoughts- choi san ft. mingi

synopsis: while your boyfriend is traveling for a music video, you can’t seem to shake off sexual thoughts even for the slightest amount of time. you need a release, and who better to call than mingi’s best friend san?

warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, reader cheats on mingi, san is a married man but cheats with reader, nipple play, breath play, rough sex, degradation, mingi calls san during sex, face slapping, pussy slapping, swearing, breeding kink (if you squint), etc. if i missed anything… let me know !

enjoy!

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with only 10 minutes left for mingi to head to the airport, you felt the sudden urge to bounce on mingi’s cock for no given reason, at the worst possible time. it’s always the worst moments that your brain and pussy decide to remix and come up with the worst scenarios at the most inconvenient times.

when you reached the airport, you helped mingi take his luggage out of the trunk of your car, getting ready to say goodbye to him. he closed the trunk, hugging you and taking in your scent before he leaves you for the next couple of weeks. though it was only 2 weeks, you can’t go any longer than that without mingi inside of you. you began to grow desperate for mingi right now, but you didn’t wait to tell him. the only thing you could tell him was “i love you, be safe. call me and text me as soon as you get to your hotel, okay?” and give him a kiss.

“i love you more, baby. don’t do anything stupid.” he reminds you as he kisses your forehead before he walks off.

“i won’t!” you shout behind him.

as you drive off, you immediately text mingi, in hopes that it’ll make time go by sooner.

y/n: baby :( how much longerrrr

y/n: miss u already mings </3

my mingi <3: baby? its only been like 3 minutes loll

my mingi <3: only 14 days left !!

turning your phone off with a sigh, you drive to find the nearest gas station. as you pump gas, you think about ways that you could wear off the sexual burden you’re carrying with you.

i could maybe masturbate or something?

you think. you’ve been touching yourself for far too long, afraid to ask mingi for sex, that he would get tired from how many rounds you’d ask for.

you go into the store to grab a redbull. as you pay and get into your car, you (hope to) brush off all sexual thoughts for the next two weeks.

3 DAYS LATER

“yeosang, are you at the house?” you say into the phone. you want to hang out with friends or have any human interaction after being locked up for 2 days because right now, no one is answering you. mingi must be busy, and your friends are busy too.

“no, san is there but its just him, why?” he’s quick to tell that something’s up, as you’d never call yeosang on your own.

“ok, can i go over? i’m hella bored and mingi’s busy. he’s not picking up my calls.”

“yeah, i’ll let him know you’re going over.”

“thanks, yeo.”

the call comes to an end, as you think about what you would even do at their house. you never go there without mingi. mingi never lets you go there on your own, knowing how his friends— san— are.

as you drive for the next 22 minutes, you decide to play music to possibly drown out all thoughts. you roll a window down, sip on redbull, but the thoughts just come right back to you.

you arrive to their home, parking in their unusually large driveway. you knock, hearing san rushing to open the door. “hey, what are you doing here?” he questions.

“i’m bored and yeosang said he told you i’d be here. did he not?” you say, voice shaking as you’re not aware of what might happen. if mingi knew you were here on your own, you would quite possibly end up single.

“yeah, come in.” he shuts the door behind you, just as confused as you are. he walks over to the kitchen, preparing cups and wine for the both of you.

“does mingi know you’re here?” he speaks with his back towards you, putting the drink in the fridge.

“no, and i don’t get why he doesn’t want me here. what’s so crazy about you guys that makes mingi so weird about me being here alone?” you begin. you want a conversation and you want san to tell what mingi won’t tell you. you feel like you’re cheating already, being here without your boyfriend.

“i don’t know. i’ve never done anything to him.” he argues. something must’ve happened on mingi’s end for them to end up so weird with each other.

“so how come you’re home alone? did no one invite you anywhere?” you question, taking a sip of the drink san had poured for you. he responds after a long pause of eye contact, watching the way your lips caress the rim of the glass.

“honestly, i didn’t wanna go anywhere. everyone else went out to wooyoung’s mom’s house and they’re spending the next 3 days there.” it’s like he has a convincing tone to his voice, not breaking eye contact as he confesses.

you want, so bad, to just let go of all sexual thoughts as they come back the second san watches your lips. you were never attracted to san, but the sexual absence that you’ve been facing has you in such a strong chokehold, you almost gasp for air in front of the man beside you.

your breath picks up its pace, trying to calm yourself before you let your intrusive thoughts win.

“y/n, are you okay?” he sets his drink down on the glass table, watching the way your thighs are clenching.

“san, if i tell you something you literally cannot tell a soul.” you set your drink down beside his, finally deciding to let some steam off.

“y-yeah. what’s going on, pretty?” he raises concern in his tone, the nickname sending shivers through your chest and down to your core. his voice is soft and deep, a sense of care and possessiveness without ever claiming you.

he knows what he’s doing.

“so mingi and i haven’t had sex in like 3 months, and when he left i guess my body went into autopilot trying to find a release when he like walked away from me. cus he looked so good in his outfit i guess the thoughts started flooding all at once. i dont know san, like why am i so-“ you ramble, san not even understanding what you’re getting at. your words leave your mouth at 100mph, trying to get to the point.

“y/n, what are you getting at?” he scoots closer to you. you feel his breathing becoming slower but deeper, his hands inching closer to your knee.

you sigh, in hopes to brush off the thoughts that are replaying in your mind— san being inside of you and filling in that void mingi had planted in your cervix. you also imagine the ways that san would wrap his rather larger veiny hands around your throat, cutting off all airways in multiple pleasuring ways. the way that he’d make you hold your orgasm makes your head spin. though you can only imagine, its almost as if he can hear your thoughts.

“has mingi actually made love to you? not just sex, actually fucked you the way you wanted.” he notices the way your mind races, picking at your cuticles in the anxious manner that san has created.

“we’ve had sex, but i guess he’s never asked me what i was into.” you mutter. san takes initiative, inching closer to your face.

“baby, how are you gonna handle two weeks with no release? you’ve gone however fucking long without the proper release, let your dear friend san show you a proper fuck, mm?” he takes your hand in his, running his free hand up your bare thigh. he notices the way your mouth lets out a gasp the closer he gets to your heat. your mind races again, finally realizing that this is why mingi never wanted you over here on your own.

“b-but—“ you try. you really don’t want this to stop, you know he’ll fuck you stupid. be honest to yourself, you wanna get fucked stupid, and who better to ask than san?

“let me make you feel good, hm? you want me to be rough with you? say the words, darling.” he inches closer, his right arm on one side of you as he leans on top of you. you stare at his lips, watching the way they drip with arousal already.

“san, use me.” fucking finally. as if you poured fuel to the fire, san immediately crashes his plump pink lips onto yours. the softness of his lips does not seem to match the roughness he implies into the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth. his tongue runs along the roof of your mouth, to your gums, and almost to your throat from how deep he’s kissing you. he takes your tongue into his mouth, sucking and eliciting gasps from you, as you pull away and take his bottom lip into your lips, sucking and creating a red tint in his wake.

“fuckin’ hell. i need to taste you, pretty girl.” his lips move down to your neck, using his hands to unzip your sweater to kiss down your bare chest.

“no bra, it’s like you came over to fuck me, that right?”

yes, he’s right.

“n-no, please don’t tell mings—“ you moan as he takes your nipple into his mouth, almost sucking the entire muscle out of your chest.

“fuck! please, do something.” you moan. your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head, seeing stars as san doesn’t stop sucking and swallowing everything you give him.

his long fingers move to take your shorts off, immediately rubbing circles on your pussy the second the fabric leaves your legs.

“oh my god, you are fucking soaked, y/n. what’s going on in your pretty head, hm? bet you think about me when you fuck mingi. right, pretty?” his fingers plunge into your hole, relentlessly fucking into your pussy. his free hand finds a home over your mouth to mask your moans and gasps while he fucks you with his hand.

your legs clench around his forearm, threatening to squirt on his couches. your stomach clenches while san moves his hand from your mouth to land a sharp slap onto your pussy. your body jolts with pleasure from the slap, san groaning from how hard you’re clenching his fingers.

“open.”

he brings his fingers up to your mouth as you suck and swallow your juices. “good girl, take it all.”

he takes his pants off, wasting no time in jerking himself and entering your sopping hole. your eyes widen at his size, intimidated that you won’t be able to take him.

“san, i don’t think—“

“you can and you will.”

he stops you, placing his right hand on your throat while the other guides his length into your hole. you throw your head back onto the arm rest, your legs threaten to shut around his waist while he already picks up the pace.

he pounds into you relentlessly, hitting your cervix and pulling the ropes of your orgasm.

“so dirty, letting me choke you out and fuck you like a whore. what would mingi say, huh? look at me when i’m talking to you, y/n.” he grips your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye when he pounds you.

“i-i don’t know! please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for, because san’s giving you all that you’ve missed out on.

you should’ve said yes when he’d asked you out that one time.

“what are you begging for? i’m giving you everything your fuck-ass boyfriend can’t give you.” he slaps your cheek, leaving a red handprint on the right side of your face. you smile at him as he does it again.

“you’re so deep in me, sannie. it’s too much,” you begin to see stars as you yell out. all you can do is moan and cry for san to keep fucking you, even though it feels like you’re being ripped in half in the best way.

“you talk so fucking much, wonder why mingi won’t fuck you.” he lifts your legs onto his waist in a more comfortable spot, while he wraps both hands around your throat, squeezing tightly as he pounds into your pussy faster.

you whimper, san kissing your almost purple lips, using his thumb to open your mouth. he lands a wad of spit onto your tongue as you gracefully swallow him.

“keep clenching around me, there you fucking go. open your legs wider,” san is interrupted by his phone ringing. he doesn’t pull out, only reaching for it on the table by your head. he plants a kiss on your forehead before he leans back up to answer what displays as

‘Mingi’

he swipes to answer, putting the phone on speaker.

“yo,” you hear your boyfriend. you try so hard to suppress your moans, as san fucks into you faster and deeper. he places a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, even though he wants mingi to know how good he’s fucking you.

“mingi-ya. how’s ja-japan?” he mutters while you clench around his dick tighter. he moves his hand away from your mouth to pinch at your nipple.

“its good, hows everyone doing? i called y/n, but she didn’t answer.” concern and your name in the same sentence catches your attention while san looks at you in faux surprise.

“she’s good, yeosang checked up on her a few days ago, she’s just bored.”

he plunges his hips extra hard into you, staying in that one position, not moving an inch. your stomach clenches as you squirt all over san’s pelvis. he gasps, impressed by his action.

mingi is talking, but the both of you are just listening. san isn’t answering the way mingi wants him to, only reacting to what he says.

“are you good, bro? are you even listening to me?”

“uh— yeah, yeah i am.” san leans towards your face, licking the tears that fell from your doe fucked out eyes. you put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise.

“alright, i’m gonna go. i’ll talk to you later, san.”

“bye mingi”

“you’re fucking dirty, such a whore.” he groans and swallows in an attempt to clear his dry throat as he tosses the phone somewhere in the room.

“i’m gonna cum, sannie. please cum in me.” you bring your hand up to the back of his head to pull him closer to you. you lick a stripe up his dimple as he smirks. you feel him swell up and twitch in your pussy, his hand coming down to rub circles on your clit. his hips stutter as he fucks you slower, emptying himself in your cervix.

“want my cum leaking out of your pretty pussy even when mingi’s around.” he pulls out of you, watching the way his cum leaks out of your hole. he uses two fingers to spread your lips, watching the way your hole clenches and how loose he’s made you.

you realize how much you were missing out on the minute san touched your thigh.

sex will never be the same again.

—————————————————————————————

i don’t even know what to say.

😁

[anakinsdove]

𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: you and anakin arranged a date in your apartment tonight… yes like a normal couple.

c/w: fluff, (and a little bit angsty) ani is in love and so are you, dates dates dates, movie night.

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 2,819

“So you’re free tonight right?” “Yes” Anakin confirms for the millionth time today… it’s not your fault tho, you just wanna make sure this evening goes exactly as planned, it’s not every night you can arrange a date with your boyfriend though it’s exactly what you and him want, but after all, you’re not a normal couple, he’s a Jedi and not to mention dating it’s forbidden for Jedis, he’s also very busy… you pull at his hair excitedly and he hisses a little. “Wait! What movie are we watching?” You ask, and he nuzzles his face in your chest “Not Bribery” “Is that the one about the alien that-” “Yes that one” “It’s a good movie though” “Of course it’s not” your eyes widen at his disrespect…

“I can’t believe you actually said that” “it’s true” you grumble quietly and he chuckles… his eyes remain closed when he suddenly hears his communicator beeping “Is that-” he groans and answers

“Anakin, you must’ve report to the temple immediately” it’s obi wan “Be right there master” there’s clearly annoyance in his voice, and his heart sinks at your disappointed expression written all over your pretty face… “Hey… the sooner I go the sooner I’ll be back okay?” You can only nod already accepting that the date night is already canceled, you think it’s really selfish wanting to keep him all to yourself, after all he’s a Jedi, he saves lives, he does it for the republic, he does it everyday, why can’t you have him for a couple of hours?

“Look love… don’t worry, you go and get yourself all dolled up, I promise the date isn’t cancelled okay?” You can only hope it’s true… you think it’ll be more painful to get yourself ready and having to take your pretty dress off, make up and hairstyle, later when he never shows up than to accept it now, but he’s making you a promise and he will keep it

“I’ll be waiting” you say and kiss his cheek, he grins at this and closes the door and hear from the other side “I’ll be here at 9:00” you nod forgetting he can’t see you…

5:45 PM

There’s a lot left to do, but where to start? Is the real question, you decide to start with cleaning around a little bit, you move the couch only to find Anakin’s beanie you knitted for him Anakin you grumbled angrily “It’s in my drawer I’m sure” he said a while ago when you questioned him why he didn’t wear it anymore… a few minutes later everything is done and the next step is to start dolling yourself up, you want this to be special and none of your dresses seem to match your expectation… too pink, too red, too elegant, too informal, wrong print? too short? I don’t think that would bother Anakin at all but it bothers you for some reason, it’s like your first date all over again, the butterflies, the anxiety and the unbelievable excitement… it was a great date, considering his padawan braid got stuck in your necklace, you cringe at the memory.

After what feels like an eternity you pick a dress… it’s beautiful purple and it has the “right” length, deciding to ignore the complete disaster you made in your closet, buuuuut now… your nails don’t match the stupid dress! Trying to grab your pretty lilac nail polish a knocking the rest of your make up over, you gasp when you hear your eyeshadow palette breaking and see pigment on the ground “oh no” the sadness in your voice equals to a kicked puppy, you kneel on the ground to dust it away.. it was your favorite palette, the pretty and expensive one, whimpering when you throw it in the trash.

Now you’re painting your nails sad and not even doing it right, there’s nail polish all over your fingers… what the fuck? The shower will take care of it

7:09 PM

Fuck! Everything it’s taking longer than usual, you haven’t even showered yet!

You undress yourself and get in a little bit too quick, the water is still cold, it makes you wince, but there’s not enough time and Anakin said he would be here at 9:00… your makeup, take out, your outfit, the candles? It’s not that you can’t do anything right it’s just that the excitement bubble you feel in your stomach betrays you and turns into anxiety. He would be happy to spend an evening with you in the sand just to be by your side, Anakin wouldn’t notice the small details that make you pull your hair, or maybe he would and wouldn’t even care, or maybe he would care-

8:54 PM

The rest of your routine goes slightly more smoothly, everything is set and now you’re just waiting for Anakin to arrive, you sigh and pray that everything goes as planned from now on.

9:01

9:07

9:15

9:23

9:28

Since when is your couch so big? And why do you feel the clock is ticking too loud for your liking? Your dress feels so tight and then is inevitable… You feel the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes “You think it’ll be more painful to get yourself ready and having to take your pretty dress off, make up and hairstyle, later when he never shows up than to accept it now, but he’s making you a promise and he will keep it”

But then there’s an urgent knocking on your door, one that you could’ve never mistake, the kind of knocking that wants to take the stupid door down and your practically jump from the couch and sprint towards the door, opening it with shaky hands… And there he is… he’s frowning and gripping the bouquet of flowers in his hands anxiously, already damaging the wrapper that holds it together. “Y/n” he says breathlessly and he immediately stops when he notices the tears in your eyes.

Your eyes switch to his face to his eyes lips then the bouquet, taking all of him so you can remember this later, his robes are muddy “Ani-" he places the flowers at a nearby table and instantly takes your face in his hands “What’s the matter doll?” He asks and wipes your tears away.. it actually makes you melt.

“I thought you weren’t coming” Your voice comes out small and you feel a little sad for not trusting him from the begging, he promised he would be here and here he is…. “I’m sorry for being so late Y/N I- the mission was- it’s not important” “Are you okay?” You ask, he gives you a small smile and nods “Everything is alright, everyone as well” you sigh in relief “That’s good my love, congrats” you hug him, he’s still sad at the sight of your dried tears on your cheeks, but at least your mascara is still intact.

“You sure that’s all?” Your grip around him tightens as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, suddenly your struggles from earlier don’t seem like a big deal after his own deal being a Jedi is responsibility aswell. “I almost messed up our date?” “Huh? And why’s that love?” And you finally look up at him “I dunno… it’s silly”

“It can’t be silly if it bothered you enough to make you cry” you want to argue and say It is but he might be right and you don’t know better “First I found out you did loose the scarf I made you-” “Where is it!?” He asks excitedly “Then I didn’t like any of my dresses… it took me forever, then my nails wouldn’t match my dress and I dropped my eyeshadow palette-“ “The pretty one with the pink tones?” “Yes, that one” “Aw, I’m sorry doll” “It’s okay… then I got in the shower and the water was freezing and then you wouldn’t show up!” Anakin cringes at the last part and you continue “I-I’m sorry, all of this sounds really stupid compared to any kind of problem you face daily as Jedi-” “Normal” “Huh?” “Your problems are… are normal… I like normal” “Oh… You do?” “Of course Y/N… after dealing with the war everyday and the council… this, this is exactly what I need” you chuckle “Well it’s always a pleasure to be ordinary enough for you” “I didn’t mean it like that-” “I know” you giggle… “I wish our life would be this domestic sometimes, can you imagine? You, me and two little mini you running around the house?” Children… he’s thinking about children, that gives you a reality check, any silly doubt you might have about your relationship is gone just like that because he’s actually dreaming about a life with you, and you wouldn’t prefer any different.

“I would love that” you say sincerely… “They would have your eyes and my hair…. Your eyebrows” He traces them delicately “And maybe my personality, one each” that makes you beam “I can’t wait” “Me neither” He takes your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly… it’s nice and delicate, he hums in the kiss and takes the chance to slide his tongue in his mouth, you suck at it softly and after a few seconds you pull away only to find the completely head over heels gaze he’s giving you.

“You’re all muddy” you say “I didn’t see the hole in the ground-” you shake your head in disbelief and take his hand in yours to guide him to your bathroom “It was Obi wan’s fault!” Now.. how could that possibly be Obi wan’s fault? But you let him ramble. “Undress” you say

“Oh you would’ve loved that wouldn’t you?” he teases and you punch him in the shoulder jokingly. He starts taking his robes off while you start filling the tub, the water is warm this time and you pour a little of your lavander soap in “Hey i thought you wanted a show” he says teasingly, because you made him undress and you didn’t even watch… that’s a shame honestly. “Get in baby” he can’t resist you or a warm bath when needed.

The water is instantly soothing for his aching muscles… he groans and tilts his head back, opening his eyes to find you looking at him adoringly “Thank you my love” he says and you lean in to kiss his cheek “You’re very welcome Ani” you throw him your old rubber duck in he laughs, he closes his eyes and sighs, he couldn’t ask for anything better in life… his eyes remain closed for a few seconds “C’mon Baby don’t pass out… you could’ve drown” “Mmm I know you wouldn’t let me” “Don’t be so sure” he opens his eyes wide and you cackled. “Close your eyes” you say “Make up your mind” he teases but does as you say, You take a small recipient with warm water and pour it over his head, gently soaking his curls, he tilts his head forward like a child, then you pour some of the apple shampoo on your hand, you figured out he liked the scent and you start gently massaging his scalp and smile when you see bubbles, his eyes peaked open to look at your loving and concentrating expression, he’s melting but when your nails escaped along his scalp he purrs… the night goes on and when you’re done washing his hair and his bubble bath is over he turns the shower on to wash his body… you wait for him with a fluffy bath towel, he smiles when he sees you and he wraps himself in it.

He follows you into your bedroom where he find a pair of his sweatpants he keeps in here, the sweater you knitted for him, a pair of your fluffy socks and clean boxers, he gives you a grateful smile… when he’s done he wraps his arms around you and you lean on him as he rubs your back “You’re a little tense hun” “Whaaat? No I’m” “Lay down” you look up at him with puppy eyes “Lay down on your stomach c’mon” And who are you to complain when Anakin Skywalker gives an order.

You lay down on the bed and he takes your heels off and kisses up your calf, and okay you weren’t completely lying, you’re still not completely sure you’re actually tense and that Anakin only wants an excuse to touch you, but his touch already feels amazing… “M’sorry I didn’t say it earlier but you look absolutely beautiful, every single detail about you is perfect” that means a lot to you “Thank you… You’re So Perfect-” he starts kissing down you back covering your spine with kisses, his hands find the zip or your dress “Gonna unzip your dress okay? I’m gonna take it off” “Yeah” you say already agreeing with anything he says, he chuckles, his hand unzips your dress nice and slow while his eyes trace every detail of your back… moles, marks, tattoos, anything… wait that looks like a constellation… he takes the dress off leaving you only in your bra and panties “This too” he pulls at your bra and you roll your eyes not annoyed at all “alright” he instantly unclasps your bra and you lift yourself so he can take it off, his touch is gentle when he slides the straps down your shoulders… his gaze lingers on your chest and you giggle “My massage” “Oh! Right” He pushes your on your stomach again, his hands dig into your shoulder blades and you make a little sound when his metal hand touches your back, it’s cold and it feels good for some reason “There’s a knot here” he says and pushes deeper to massage your skin, you moan and his ears perk up at the sound but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his head for your own sake and his “Ani… that feels really good” “I know” he says cockily and keeps working his magic, suddenly his hands grip your ass and you gasp “You’re tense here too” he massages the skin and you actually think you’re muscles are grateful… the feeling want to make your thighs squeeze Not now You think.

10 minutes later he’s done and you’re actually sleepy, he takes one of your sweaters out of your drawer and you try to put it on but he does it for you, unfortunately his hand tickles your ribs and you giggle, he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes… “Would you like to watch a movie” he kisses your neck and you close your eyes “Sure!” You beam, “Okay… I’ll make the pop corn” he keeps kissing you and you think he might never stop and make the damn pop corn, though you’re not sure you want him to stop you whimper and your breathing heaves “I’ll go now… promise” however he keeps kissing you and you take the chance to tickle his ribs, he cackles and takes the queue to leave.

You realize you still have makeup on your face and you curse at yourself, feeling lazy to take it off but going to the bathroom and washing your face no matter how much you wanna eat pop corn and get into his arms you want.. he comes back 5 minutes later with the bowl of pop corn and two drinks… you beam at the sight of snacks and he chuckles “Are you happy to see me or the popcorn?” “Both”

“We’re watching Bribery” you say simply “Whatever” he says clearly not happy with your choice but happier nonetheless to be here, he thinks it’s cute how much you like this shitty movie… you nuzzle into his arms and 40 minutes later you’re starting to fall asleep.

“It’s time to sleep love” “Nuh uh” you say with your eyes already closed “What why not?” He asks curiously, your body says otherwise

“You still haven’t fucked me, date night it’s not over” you say boldly and he cackles

“It’s alright love, I’ll promise I’ll fuck you in the morning”

“Promise?”

“Promise”

He stays up for a little after you fell asleep, admiring your features and tracing them gently with his knuckle, careful to not harm you, to not wake you up or disturb you in any way “I love you… more than anything in the entire universe…” something sparked inside him watching your sleep so vulnerable and with your guard completely down, trusting him completely.. “And I would never let something bad happen to you…” he kisses your forehead and stares at you with pure adoration in his eyes… he truly loves you… he tries to find a word bigger than that to state his love for you but the sleepiness is finally getting to him too…

“G’night” he mutters and lastly kisses your nose.

masterslist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers- @i92-93

[barbwritesstuff]

Thicker Than December Update

The update link:

Thicker Than Free Demo

Update info:

As of the 26th of December 2023

Finished Chapter Six

Started work on Chapter Seven (currently incomplete)

Added explicit scene with Freya in Chapter Four

Several bug and spelling fixes

Additional Words: 27,104 (excluding commands)

Total Word Count: 175,440 (excluding commands )

Other links:

Supporting me on KoFi helps ensures my ongoing survival, which I really do appreciate.

You can email me at barbara truelove writes at g mail dot com.

I have a website that I spent actual money on. I'm not sure why, but it's pretty.

If you like the way I write vampires maybe consider checking on the first story in this series, Blood Moon, which is about werewolves and is polished and pretty in a way this very much isn't.

Other free games can be found on my itch.io page.

My ramblings:

Merry Christmas and happy full moon. I really hope, wherever you are in the world, you’re having a great day. I won’t be able to see the moon tonight thanks to a circling storm cloud, but I’m hoping it’ll clear up tomorrow and I can do some stargazing.

I’ve managed to get quite a few words down this month, so I’m really happy about that. Chapter Six is finished, and I’ve started work on Chapter Seven. Chapter Seven is still in the early stages. Depending on your previous choices, it may not even exist yet on certain playthroughs. I’m sorry about that. It’s going to take some time to fill in all the different routes and bring them all together again.

I’ve also gone back to Chapter Four and added some more content in for Freya because several people told me they weren’t really vibing with her romance arc. I’m really glad I did that because I think speeding up her romance route makes a lot of sense and it flows better overall.

I’ve also done a lot of little edits scattered throughout. Nothing super major, but I hope it improves the flow of certain scenes.

On a more technical note: I’ve been having a weird issue with the automatic Choicescript tests in CSIDE. The random_test has been slowing to a crawl and/or freezing. It doesn’t spit out any errors, and the quick_test has been working fine, so I’m really not sure why this has started to happen. It may mean there is an infinite loop error somewhere in Chapter 6 or 7. If so, I haven’t been able to find it. If anyone encounters a page that loads forever but doesn’t show any text, please let me know. The game won’t be able to be submitted to Hosted Games if it can’t pass a random_test, so I really want to sort this out sooner rather than later.

If you spot any other errors, large or small, I’d be really grateful if you could let me know. Thicker Than is big enough now that it’s a little unwieldy to navigate, and hard to edit. I’m really grateful to the people who’ve taken the time to send me things which don’t look quite right. It’s so insanely helpful and really encouraging knowing you’re rooting for Thicker Than to succeed.

💙

[oreolemur]

Streamer's Worst Nightmare

Working as a streamer, you never showed your face. It was easy to make money having a cute virtual character impersonate you, but after losing a couple of fans, money became tight. “Guess what guys?”, you asked your audience through the stream. “I’m starting an Onlyfans!”. In the chat section you had a mixture of comments complimenting and some shaming you. “I know this may be a bad idea…but at least I’ll let you guys see my face”. Looking at the chat you began to get more supportive replies. “It’ll only be for a short time until I work something out for extra cash. I hope you all subscribe and see more of my personal interests”. Waving goodbye to your fans, you immediately shut off your webcam. “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, you sighed. 

Meanwhile, there was one fan of yours who wasn’t too happy about your decision. “An Onlyfans, huh?”, the man titled his head. “I’m not too happy to hear about that y/n”. He sat in front of his computer, lurking through your socials as he scarfed down a bunch of sweets. “I should pay a visit to her soon”. Crouching at his desk, L took drastic measures to find your location. “I will have you sooner or later, my sweet doll”.

Over the next few days, you began to feel more and more comfortable with your new line of work. “I’m making more than what I do streaming”, you beamed, staring at your financial statistics. “Maybe I should keep this up. Just for a little”. Posting pic after pic and video after video, you decided to open up your messages to give your subscribers a paid one on one chat with you. “Cum to my dm’s and have a little fun with me in private, my loves”, you say, making a vid of yourself in a pink robe. “I’ll be waiting”. 

After making your final post for the day, you spent the entire night trying to reply back to the hundreds of customers who hit your dm’s. “I didn’t know I’d get this much”. Without opening the last few that came in, you got bored. “Nothing new?”, you scoffed. “It’s all the same suggestions”. Before closing your laptop, you received another message. “This one better be good”. Opening it, your eyes widened. “Hello”, it read. “At least this one has a normal greeting”, you smiled.

Messaging the person back, you enjoyed talking to them. “Wow, it’s been 30 minutes and they haven’t asked for anything special yet”. Texting them back, you asked them this. “Are you not interested in seeing anything special tonight?”. Waiting for their reply, you suddenly hear a noise in your living room. “That must be the cat again”, you sighed. Getting up from your bed, you headed that way. “Come here baby”, you signaled your pet. Picking up the furry animal, you walked back towards your room. Seeing the notification come through, you gently put down your cat. As you read the reply, your heart skipped a beat. “W-what?”. Reading the message again, you wanted to make sure that your eyes were working correctly. “Something special? Like your cute fuzzy slippers in the front doorway”, the message read. “This can’t be happening”, you begin to panic. Texting the person back, “What fuzzy slippers? I don’t have any”.  Biting his nails, L stood in front of your bedroom door, “These ones”, he said. 

Feeling a chill go down your spine, your heart beats fast as you froze. “You do have quite an interesting taste in style, doll”. Seeing the man from the corner of your eye, you turned around slowly. “H-How did you get in?”, you asked. He approached you slowly, bending down to your level as you sat on the bed. “Don’t worry about that”, he said. L’s big eyes stared at you, taking note of all of your beautiful facial features. “You know…”, he paused. “You’re more pretty in person…and short too”. He then tried to reach for your face, but you smacked his hand away. “D-don’t touch me”, you said, scooting back. L grabbed your leg, pulling you back towards him. “I’m stronger than I look. I would hate it if you made me get physical with you, my love”, he said. 

“What do you want?”, you asked. “You”, L replied. "M-me? Why me?", you questioned. "If you're some creepy fan that has a crush on me...I won't date you". L tilts his head. "Why you? You're interesting. You interest me in ways no other human has. I want to peel you open. Analyze every inch of your brain until I know everything about you”, he chuckles. Hearing him say that creeped you out even more. L leans forward with each word. As he does so, his long black hair falls around his face, shrouding his eyes from view. "I want to get inside you”. L leans forward even more, until his face is mere inches from yours. His hair, now a tangled mess, conceals his face, but you can see the glint of curiosity and hunger in his eyes. "I want... to devour you." L whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

He tried to grab you, but you dodged it. You fell on the floor, getting up quickly to run away. The man smirked. He liked to watch people try and escape him. He always caught his prey in the end. L follows you, moving surprisingly quickly for somebody as lanky as him. "Where are you going, dear? The game was just getting interesting”. You ran into the living room, tripping over your cat's litter box. "Shit!", you yelled. You got up, heading towards the front door. L chuckled again. He really liked how you were trying to escape. It was so amusing and cute to watch you try and get away from him. L continued his pursuit, closing the ever-shrinking distance between you. "Don't you know that running away only makes me want you more, my dear? The more you resist, the more I crave to devour you”. 

You tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. L was suddenly directly behind you, his lips next to your ear. "It doesn't matter. There is no escaping me at this point, darling. I'm faster. I'm stronger. I'm smarter. You will be mine." L's words send shivers down your spine. He wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling towards you to the bedroom. "Let me go!", you shouted. "Oh, you are so adorable. Trying to act so tough even though you're shaking like a leaf in my grasp. I can feel how tense you are. You know you can't get away from me, but still, you persist. It's so cute!" L continues to drag you to the bedroom, a smug smirk on his face. 

Once inside, he throws you onto the bed as he proceeds to take off his shirt. L tosses his shirt to the side, revealing his pale, lean chest. His eyes glint wickedly as he looks down at you. "Are you feeling vulnerable, my dear?”. You begin to cry, seeing him get closer and closer to you. "Please go away!", you begged. "Oh, but my darling, we're just getting started." L climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. As he does so, his long black hair falls forward, framing his face again. "You can't run from me. You can't hide from me. I will always find you." He leans down and whispers in your ear. "You're my obsession now”. He rubbed his hands through your hair, pulling on it as he brought your face close to his.  "Shhh... let me hear those pretty cries," L says, placing his finger on your lips. "I want to savor every sound that comes out of you. You're so enticing when you're scared. It's like I'm feasting on a delicious meal”.

He kissed your lips passionately, pushing his tongue past the barrier of your lips. He explored the inside of your mouth, slightly moaning. A trail of spit connected both of your lips and he pulled away. “Now…”, he said. “I want to see more of you”. His hand opened the slit of your robe, exposing your breasts. “Perfect”, L said. He pinned your arms above your head as he moved his way down to your tits. He stuck out his tongue, licking your sensitive nipples. “S-stop”, you said, letting out a small whimper. His hand traveled down to your waist, rubbing your bare cunt. “You have such soft skin”, he said, making a pop suction noise as his mouth latched on and off your tit. Your legs shook, feeling him massage your clit. “No”, you said, closing them, trapping his hand in between your thighs. “I don’t like uncooperative people, my dear”, he said, forcing your legs open.

L’s cock hardened inside his pants, making him blush. “My god”, he said, moving his hand away from your pussy, he had your arms pinned with one hand as the other moved to unbutton his pants. “I didn’t think I would get this excited”, he said. You laid there crying, wishing this situation was over with. You saw his dick poke out of his boxers. “Stay still”, he said, unpinning you. He pulled them down just enough so he can fuck you. With your legs still spread, L positioned himself comfortably between them. He placed his cock on your cunt, spitting on it. He rubbed himself on you, attempting to lube your dry pussy. “If you scream I will hurt you”, he said, shoving cock inside you. The size caught you off guard, making you cry even louder. “Take it out!”, you yelled. He covered your mouth, leaning into your ear. “I can tell it’s your first time, my love”, he slightly smirked. “I felt your hymen break”. His thrusts were slow as he placed kisses onto your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, leaving bruises. 

Your body started to like his touch as your cunt became used to his cock. You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like it, but you liked how fucked up the situation was. “Your body is starting to relax. You don’t feel tense anymore”, L grunted. He let go of your mouth, kissing your soft lips. He bit your lower lip, drawing blood. “If you keep up this good behavior…I might just let you go”. His thrusts quickened as he felt your walls tighten around him. You moaned as his pace went faster, feeling your orgasm arriving. L rested his head beside yours, moaning into your ear. “After I’m done, I’ll make sure no one else sees your body but me”.

[dinsdjrn]

things that haven't happened yet | javier pena

javier pena x bottle girl!f!reader

summary: they kept everything professional, but some things change. [w.c 2.8k]

warnings: 18+, smut and angst, reader is an informant in danger, oral (f recieving), fingering, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, ambiguous ending ig (?) as always if i missed something lmk!

a/n: anyone else have the i can see you brain rot rn... bc i have 17 requests i could have written but this came out of me instead... please be gentle with it im... strugglin to post.

main masterlist

It was the early hours of the morning as you walked briskly through the streets after your shift. You kept your head down and all that you could hear was the soft rise and fall of your breathing. You weren’t walking fast enough to warrant heavy breathing, but you did carry information that made your chest rise and fall as if you had sprinted to the familiar apartment.

You rasped on the door three times, no answer. You knocked again, harder this time. 

It swung open and revealed a very tired Javier Peña.

“What the fu- what are you doing here?” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, but this can’t wait,” Your eyes shifted over your shoulder. 

He studied your face for a moment before bringing you in.

“And you’re sure the information is good?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“As good as my life, Javier.” You let out a shaky breath. 

“Shit,” He spoke to himself. 

“I was the only one in there with Diego and Felix. They don’t trust any of the other girls,” You chuckled at the irony of everything. “They think they’re all sleeping with you.” 

“And you?” He said. 

“Nobody sees me as more than the bottle girl who won’t put out. I’m the only one that knows, and I know it’s information you can use. It’ll put a target on my back, so it would be a really great time for that visa you promised me.” 

He turned rubbing his hand across his chin and made his way to the phone against the wall. You shifted uncomfortably, knowing that if the DEA didn’t protect you this information could cost you your life. You were the only girl in the private booth, there was no other fly on the wall.

Javier was quiet about his conversation, he would turn back and look at you periodically. You were hopeful, but you weren’t stupid, if they couldn’t get you out you’d have to flee. An out with the US DEA is much more likely to result in life than fleeing through the Colombian jungle. 

“Okay, gracias,” Javier hung the phone up and walked to a drawer in the kitchen. 

He handed you a passport and envelope. You flipped open and saw your face but not your name.

“How long have you had this?” You asked, taken aback. 

“Not long, but we knew you would need it sooner rather than later.” He said. 

“Okay,” you said. “I guess it’s time to disappear.”

“We can book you on a flight tomorrow night, it gives you time to say goodbye to any family.”

“It’s just me, don’t have anyone to say goodbye to,” You laughed awkwardly, 

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching toward you. 

“I’m a fly on the wall, Agent Peña. It’s easier not to have anyone, better to go unnoticed,” 

“You haven’t gone unnoticed,” He said, stepping closer to you. The air became thick and heavy with tension. 

“I should go, I don’t mix business with pleasure,” You said, placing the envelope of cash and your new passport in your bag. 

“As far as I’m concerned, we no longer have business with one another,” he smirked. 

You bit your lip, pondering the accusation. He was right, and it wasn’t like Javier Peña was a hard sell. He was gorgeous and he knew it. 

“I should pack, if I’m to make this flight,” You said, stepping toward him this time your hand coming to rest gently on his chest.

He gently tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. The intensity of his gaze made you desperate to shy away, but he had a pull to him that made it impossible. 

“There’s a lot of things you should do,” he emphasized, “But stay, please. Just for tonight,” He spoke softly. 

His hand drifted down your neck to your collarbone where he brushed the strap of your black tank top off your shoulder. 

“Javier, I’m nobody. I-,” you paused, “I’m going to disappear.” 

“You’ve always been somebody to me, hermosa,” he kissed your shoulder where your tank top had previously rested. 

“Since the moment I met you, I knew you were more than what you gave yourself,” He spoke. 

Before you had time to respond he gently nipped at your neck eliciting a soft gasp from you. 

“Tell me stop,” He spoke seriously as he continued to leave a trail of kisses down your neck and shoulder. 

“Javier,” you hesitated, sounding more like a question than a warning. 

“If you don’t want to do this, you need to tell me to stop,” he looked at your face again trying to decipher any hint of fear or regret. 

His large hand held your jaw gently and his thumb slowly rubbed your cheek. He was comforting and reassuring. It almost felt wrong for the stone cold DEA agent, Javier Peña, to be looking at you with soft eyes and affectionate touches. 

You leaned up toward him, your lips were so close to his you could feel his breath against yours. 

“Don’t. Don’t stop,”  

And that was all he needed before his lips encapsulated yours in an all encompassing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke all the words Javi couldn’t. Passion, lust, and remorse for the situation he put you in. 

Your mouths moved against one another as if you had been starved of kisses your whole lives. Javier gently bit your bottom lip causing a soft moan to escape you. 

Your soft moan ignited something within him. He pulled away from the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist and he forcefully turned your back to him. He pushed you toward the wall and you placed your hands against it. 

His hands pulled your hips into his own, grinding himself against your ass. 

“Ah, fuck,” He groaned, “Baby you are so fucking hot,” 

“Javi,” you sighed.

His hands had begun to work your tank top away from your skirt they explored under the thin material and up your back unclasping your bra. He crouched slightly gripping your hips again and kissed your back. His hands dragged your shirt up your sides once again, stopping just below your breast. You swear you heard him inhale sharply, you arched your back slightly knowing you would grind against the strained package in his jeans. 

He growled at the sensation pulling your shirt and bra over your head and throwing across the room.

He flipped you around again, pressing your back to the wall, and pushing himself against you. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and legs around his hips. He used one hand to grip your thigh tightly holding you up. This caused your skirt to ride up your thighs and your panties to be directly against Javi’s jeans. You could feel his cock painfully hard pushing against the material and there was too much fabric between you. 

Before you had a chance to say anything Javier’s lips found yours again, this time more lustful, passionate and messy than before. Your tongue danced with his as you brought your hands to his chest to make quick work of his button up. He let go of your leg and you gently brought your feet to the floor as you pushed the cotton t-shirt off his shoulders.

You took a second to drink him in as you began to work on his belt. He was lean and tan, and looked like the devil himself with his hair tossed and chest rising and falling heavily. 

As you unbuttoned his jeans, he brought his hands to your breasts massaging your nipples into hard peaks. 

He had brought his mouth to your nipple gently swirling it around his tongue before dragging his teeth across it. You whimpered at the sensation, head falling back against the wall and hips bucking toward him. He made sure to give the same attention and care to the other nipple before slowly kissing down your belly. 

“Fuck Javi, on your knees,” you instructed breathlessly. 

He sank onto his knees, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs pushing your skirt up to reveal your soaking panties. 

“Fuck baby, so ready for me,” he inhaled before kissing the small article of clothing. 

His fingers hooked on either side of the lace waistband pulling them down your legs. Once they reached your ankles you kicked them off anxiously awaiting Javi’s mouth to find your pussy. 

He kissed up your thighs and slowly licked the space where the inside of your thigh met your hip. you raised one leg over his shoulder, spreading yourself for him. He used his tongue to lick between your folds up until he found your clit. 

Your knees were weak and he held you against the wall. Working his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt the pressure building in your lower abdomen and you knew you wouldn’t last long. 

Strings of moans, curses, and Javier’s name fell from your lips as you began to come undone. 

“Fuck, shi-,” you cursed as Javi’s fingers began toying with your opening. 

“So fucking wet for me baby,” He praised.

“You want my hands too, princesa?” He put his lips against you again gently sucking your clit. 

“I’m no princess, Javier,” you said as you ran your hands through his hair. 

“Hmm, you didn’t answer the question,” he pulled away from you momentarily, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs. 

“Fuck me with your fingers, Javi. And quit being such a teasing asshole,” You tugged his hair back toward you. 

“You have no idea how big an asshole I can be, princessa,” he teased, immediately pushing two fingers inside you before you could respond. 

You gasped at the sensation, he shrugged your leg off his shoulder and stood up, still pumping his fingers inside you curling them exactly where you needed to be sent into a fit of whimpers and moans. His thumb found your clit circling with just enough pressure to push you to the edge. His mouth found your neck nipping and sucking at your most sensitive spot just behind your ear. 

“Javi, babe, so close,” You panted. 

“Don’t be shy, come on my fingers. Tell me how good you feel, hermosa,” Javi spoke roughly in your ear. 

“Fuck, so fucking good Javier,” you mewled and with that your first orgasm came crashing over you. Whimpers and moans spilled from you as the waves of pleasure coursed through you. 

Javier brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them before bringing his thumb to your lips. 

“You are so fucking special, I wish we had done this sooner,” He sighed. 

“You should never mix business with pleasure, Agent Pena,” You spoke softly. 

“Yes, we are keeping it very fucking professional,” He spoke before kissing you again. He gripped your thigh just below your ass and you kissed him back feverishly. 

Your hands moved just below the waist band of Javi’s jeans again, this time pushing them down over his ass. He broke the kiss to push them down the rest of the way and remove them. Leaving you both in nearly nothing. 

He pulled you toward the couch guiding you between kisses. He sat down on the leather couch and you drank him in all over again. The way his legs lazily spread apart making him even broader. His arms reached for you. 

“You can have a seat if you’d like,” He said gently tugging your waist toward him. 

You pulled back slightly, “I will, but first we need to make sure you’re comfortable,” 

He hummed in response. You kneeled before him, kissing his thighs and nipping at them slightly. 

Your hands tugged at the waistband of his briefs and he lifted his hips slightly so that they would be more easily removed. His cock sprung free onto his stomach, the tip reddened and leaking precum. You knew he must’ve been painful strained in his jeans. 

You stood in front of him and hiked your skirt above your waist as you brought your thighs to either side of his hips. You slowly began to grind onto his cock nothing in the way to feel how hard he was against you. His hips bucked to meet yours. 

“Let me fuck you, I want see you bounce on my cock,” He said clearly unable to contain himself. 

“Please,” you begged. 

You slowly raised yourself again, positioning him at your entrance. You slowly brought your hips down to meet his, you both groaned at the sensation. He was big and full and began slowly rocking his hips against yours. 

His hands found their way around your back. One on your lower back to steady you, the other gripping your shoulder. you slowly began to rise and fall against him, riding him back and forth. 

“Jesus, fuck- so fucking tight,” He groaned. 

“So fucking perfect for me, princessa,” he continued. 

His hips began to thrust to meet yours as moans and the slapping of skin filled the room. You both were blissed out on the feeling of his cock ramming into your pussy, it was addicting the sounds coming from him. 

With every thrust his hips dragged across your clit, bringing you even closer to your orgasm. His mouth found your breast once again gently nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin surrounding your nipple as you bounced. 

His thrusts became more erratic as you went and you knew that neither of you were going to last much longer. 

“Javier, fuck, so close. So so good baby,” You whimpered.

“Waited so fucking long for you,” He mumbled. “Needed to see you, know you.” 

You brought your lips to his neck, changing the angle slightly. Javi was ramming into you now, both of you quickly coming undone. 

Your orgasm washed over you first as you groaned and cried Javier’s name. 

“Oh fuck gonna-“ He said pulling out of you, gripping his cock. Quickly coming on your skirt and his own hand.

His hip bucked a few more times and his face twisted and he let out a few moans. 

You collapsed onto his chest and he began gently stroking your back. You were both hot and sticky but your post orgasmic bliss took over. Neither of you made any rush to move or speak for nearly ten minutes. Your mind raced with the possibility of tomorrow 

“Thank you, Javier. Just for everything,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes at the finality of everything. 

“Hm. Your thank you is starting to sound an awful lot like goodbye,” 

“Javi,” You whispered an edge to your tone. You pushed yourself off him. 

“I think we should clean up,” you sighed and made your way down the hall to the bathroom. 

Javier followed suit, neither of you said anything as you rinsed your legs and skirt off. You sighed frustrated as your skirt was now damp and you would have to wear it home. 

“I have something you can wear home,” he said while he washed his hands. 

“Uh Javi- it’s okay,” your words fell over one another. 

“You could also just stay here,” He said, reaching for you. 

“You and I both know that’s not going to happen,” You took his hand in yours and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“We could protect you here. I won’t let them touch you, I just fuck-“ he ran a hand through his hair.

You didn’t know much about Javier but you knew he could be soft with those he cared about and he was always soft with you. You knew he could be an asshole, but he had losses not many could understand. 

“You and I both know that’s not possible,” You kissed his hand. 

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. You’ll be here bringing Colombia back to peace, and I will be another notch in your playbook,” You let go of his hand and made your way back to the living room. 

You grabbed your discarded bra and tank top slipping them back on. Javier joined you in the living room a few moments later, now clad in sweatpants and holding a pair out for you. 

“Thanks,” You smiled at him, slipping your skirt off and the soft sweats on. 

“Hey, uh- before you go,” Javi shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable. 

You looked up at him. 

“Just, when you get somewhere safe. Find a way to let me know, ok?” He said holding out a small note card with an address scribbled on it. 

You smiled at him sighing.

“Goodbye Javi,” You kissed his cheek and brushed past him to the door. 

It hurt knowing you were leaving your home. And as the warm air of the Colombian night hit you for what may be the last time, you realized, you finally had someone to say goodbye to.

tags: @skysmiller @beskarandblasters @harriedandharassed @cupofjoel @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda & will be tagging main taglist just wanna get this posted!!

[imauthicktic]

Little Moments

Dbd x fem!reader

Authors note: pretty sure I didn’t use any fem pronouns, but I don’t wanna label it a gn!reader just in case I did. If anything I’ll go back and edit later.

Edit: I fixed it to be gn!reader to be more inclusive!!

Anyways pure fluff 

Characters: Trapper, Huntress, Deathslinger, Ghostface, Hillbilly

Trapper:

I feel like this goes without saying, but you’re definitely stuck in one of his traps. You were the last survivor and that was intentional. See, Evan gets a little excited with you in his trials. You both aren’t together… yet, but he likes to think it’ll be sooner than later. He cares for you, that’s for sure. You both have little moments here and there that can be sweet. They’re just a little too short for his liking. He hopes you enjoy those moments as well. He was still on the hunt for you, trying to find you, but this map was getting too confusing for him at the moment. He heard your whimpering and quickly went in your direction.

You look up at Evan and whimpered a small “Please help me out. It hurts, Evan.” He kneeled down and quickly opened the bear trap, releasing your leg. You didn’t miss the fact that he brought over a med pack. He wrapped up your leg gently and picked you up over his shoulder. “Excuusee me, sir. I think we both know you don’t have to hold me like this when we’re the only two people here,” you said with some sass and a small, but harmless smack to his back. Evan chuckled and instead of holding you like the royalty you are, he gave you a small, not as harmless smack against your ass. You squeaked from how hard he smacked it and pouted when he didn’t change his hold on you.

You guess you can live with it since you notice he’s passing all the hooks and gingerly avoiding his traps. You notice he’s heading towards the hatch and you try to prop up the top part of your body so that you slide down a bit in Evan’s grip. He grunted and caught you with his other arm, your legs wrapped themselves around his waist and you smiled at his mask. You put a lil kiss on his masked cheek and he turned his head towards you. “See you back at your place?” you ask as he puts you on your feet gently. He put a hand on your cheek and gave a small nod. You smiled again and went in for a quick hug. As you both pulled away, you gave a small pinch to his butt, making him jump and you quickly ran towards the exit with a giggle.

Huntress:

It had been a while since you were in a trial with Anna. Not that it put you at ease, but it certainly made you feel a little less stressed considering she would wait, only jokingly chasing you at times until she saw another survivor. Soon enough there were only two survivors left, one of them being you. You tried helping Leon, but he didn’t want you to risk yourself for him. You both were working on the last generator when you heard her humming in the distance. “Finish the generator, I’ll get her to chase me for a bit. Be careful.” Leon said as he ran away towards the humming. You were always surprised by how nice Leon could be towards you, even at the end of the trial and even when you guys were exhausted.

You were fixing the last part of the generator and sighed in relief when it roared alive. Hearing the latch creek in the distance, you stood up and tried to listen for Leon on the way toward safety and you heard him yell out your name. You turned around and saw him running towards you with an angry Anna behind him about to throw her hatchet. However, Leon was too close for comfort when Anna threw her hatchet and you yelled for Leon to duck and you barely just dodged the missile as it scraped your shoulder. Anna saw how it just got you and she halted to a stop as you and Leon made it through the hatch and made it back to camp. You sigh as you sit down for a moment to catch your breath.

You can still feel the sting of the cut on your shoulder. You can feel someone staring you down from the forest. You know who it is instantly. You slowly get up while everyone is chatting and give a small pat on Leon’s shoulder as you head for the treeline. As you walk deeper into the forest you know she’s following you and you stop near a river that you find and sit on top of a rock nearby. The wound is finally closed, you just feel the sting still on your shoulder. You call over your shoulder, “Anna, you can come over. I’m not going to bite,” you say with a small smile. You can barely hear her approach you but she gently sits down next to you, looking at the ground. You can tell she’s upset about hurting you and you softly grab her hand. You lean your head against her shoulder and whisper a small, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I know it was an accident.” She looks at where she hurt you, only to see it healed already. She feels more at ease knowing you forgive her and that you’re not in any more physical pain. She breathes in deeply and turns to wrap her arms around you and starts humming. You relax in her embrace and you play with her hands for a while until one of you gets pulled back into a trial.

Deathslinger:

You wake up gasping for breath. Another trial failed. You stare up at the stars for a few moments and groan as you try to sit up. You’re further from the survivor camp than you expected and look at the tree line. You’re getting tired of how boring the survivor's camp has been. You decided it was time to start heading towards the one realm you’ve always felt welcomed in.

You finally stepped foot into the scorching sun and decided to take off the stupid jacket you’ve been wearing, sweating, and bleeding in. At least you have a tank top that’s white. Attracts less heat in this wild west place.

You don’t even realize you’re in front of the saloon until you walk through the swinging doors. Caleb side-eyes you as he took a sip of his whiskey. He puts his glass down and leans over the bar to grab another glass as you walk towards him and sit next to him with a blank face. He’s pouring you a drink as he notices your faraway stare. “What’s on yer mind darlin’? I ain’t ever seen ya look so glum,” he gruffly says to you. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. You take a big gulp of your drink and wince slightly at the burn going down your throat. It's been a while since you’ve gotten to be with Caleb. You care for him so deeply and you know he cares for you too. You just don’t know how much. “Caleb… I-...” you don’t even know how to word it without sounding desperate. You feel him put some strands of hair behind your ear and then he caresses your cheek with his finger. “My sweet thang. You ain’t never been so quiet,” he said with a small smile. You finally ease up some more as you turn to look at him and his hand cups your cheek. “I love you, Caleb. I just really miss you lately.” you finally say. “My word. It’s ‘bout time you said it. I’ been waitin’ for you to say it first, sweetheart.” he leaned in and put a sickly soft kiss on your lips. “I love you more than anythin’.” Caleb said. You smile in relief and grab your glass and raise it to him. He snorts and raises his glass and clinks it against yours. “To me ‘n you darlin’.”

Ghostface:

You groan at the flash that keeps going off. “Danny, if you don’t chill it with the flash, I’m going to get a migraine,” you whine. He chuckles as he finally stops, “Alright, alright. You’re lucky I got enough for now, sweet cheeks.” “Oh yeah? I’m lucky? No, I think you’re lucky I let you take cute photos of me.” You said as you jumped on top of him trying to wrestle the camera out of his hands. You and Danny tossed each other around, throwing in a lil WWE moves, for the dramatics of course, and you somehow got on top. With a victorious laugh and quick hands, you grab the camera and snap as many pictures as you can of Danny’s laughing face. He grabs you by the hips and turns you guys around and onto your back. You move the camera far and away from yourself, thus, away from Danny. He doesn’t even try to reach for it. You look up at him as he cages your head between his arms.

“Ya know. For this place being as much as a shithole as it is, I’m glad I got you out of it.” You felt the blood rush to your face, not expecting something so sweet to come out of him. “I-... I can’t believe you think that,” you said, almost shocked. “Yeah, well, good luck hearing something like that come out of me again. You totally ruined the moment.” He sighed with a small, fake, pout. You couldn’t help but laugh, he smiled immediately as you giggled out an “Oh, I ruined the moment? Me?” you try to suppress the giggles as you bite your lip. You two lay there as you look into each other’s eyes. You both relax from the giggle fest and he leans down slowly to leave a small kiss on your lips. After that, he leans his head down into the crook of your neck and lays all his body weight onto you. What a perfectly weighted blanket you have. You run your fingers through his hair and press a small kiss on his temple. “I’m keeping those pictures I took of you by the way,” you said into his hair as you press another kiss there. He presses a kiss to your collarbone and with a small sigh he responds with a “Fine by me.”

Hillbilly:

You were running through the cornfields, breathing heavily. You can hear him behind you with his uneven stomps. You find a tree with taller corn stalks around it and you go around it and hide behind the tree. You hear him call out. You put your hand over your mouth to calm your breathing. You hear him getting closer… and closer… and then… silence. You hear nothing around you but the breeze going through the tall grass and corn stalks. You decide you’re in the clear and look around the tree. Just as you turn your head, you feel rough hands go around your waist. You let out a shriek and turn around to see Max with a small grin on his face. He lets out a tiny giggle behind his hand as you let out a small sigh.

“I guess I’m it now, huh Maxie?” He nods a little and squats a bit so he can be on your level face-to-face. You give him a big smile and say “I guess you want your reward, big guy?” He groaned out a small “uh-huh” and you leaned into his face and gave him a small kiss on the corner of his lips. “Ok, so now that I’m it, you have to start running ok? Once I get ya, I’m getting one of your famous bear hugs as a prize.” You smile real big and give him a kiss on his cheek. “You better start running, Maxie. Imma get that hug from you!” you giggle and you try to reach out, but he moves just out of reach as you go for him again. Doing this makes him giggle as he runs away with you hot on his trail also giggling.

He hasn’t been giddy like this before and he likes the affection you give him. Max slows down a little cause he looked over his shoulder to see how close you were. When he turns he doesn’t see you and a little part of him panics. Where did you go? You were right behind him? He turns back to the direction he was originally going to go and he nearly jumps out of his skin as he feels you jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He hears your giggles of “I got ya!” and you press kisses all over his face as he wraps his arms around your waist and makes small noises of happiness. He flushed a little feeling you pressed up against him, but most of all, he felt safe. He tightened his hold on you and started heading towards the house. All he wants is to cuddle and eat some of your cooking. The whole walk was just a bunch of loving words from you and happy noises from him.

Lmk what you guys think!!!

Requests are open!!

[wayfayrr]

aaaaaaahhh all i can think of is like- most isekai fics I've seen for some reason [i mean understandably] the reader is wearing their pajamas, but after visiting the modern world they can finally show the chain what they actually like wearing, [i can see this going in so many ways, depending on who is reacting, and especially depending on what aesthetic the reader likes to dress in. for the sake of the request ill keep it as dark academia, cause i love it so muchhhh [not so much in the summer, but i make it work lol] with time? [just imagining reader with a tie and just wearing business casual w a trenchcoat frrrrrrrr- might draw this kind of thing and send it to you lol]

Anon I hope you know this ask had me in an absolute chokehold. OUJDFNBJNF ✨I LIVE FOR DARK ACADEMIA AESTHETICS!!!✨ My trenchcoat is one of my favourite things I own. So I get your pain in summer as well 🥹

“Hey Time, have you seen Wild anywhere? He borrowed my laptop and I really need it back.”

“I haven’t sorry [nam]-... Is that what you wear normally? You look incredible.”

“Pretty much, yeah? Why, is there an issue with it?”

Time’s blushing. Is what I’m wearing really that impressive because I know he’s not blushing over what I’m wearing being revealing. A trenchcoat that goes down to my calves with the rest of my clothes? Does he just think I’m attractive or something? 

“No, no issue. You look good in it, it’s just very different to what you arrived in Hyrule wearing.”

“I know, like I said then those were my pyjamas. These are my casual clothes.”

Well, his blush has only gotten worse from that, so he is clearly struggling with how my clothes look on me. Dark academia doesn’t exist in Hyrule I know that, but really he’s struggling far more than anyone else has with my fashion sense. 

“Do you think you could help me choose some clothes like that? I’d like to match wit.. I think that style would suit me.”

“If you’d like, we can go shopping for you later. After I get my laptop back and finish off this report I have due.”

Laughing at how he's stumbling over himself to ask me these questions simply isn't an option, no matter how hard it is to hold myself back. He's asking so genuinely and so sweetly and who knows maybe getting some new clothes could help him adjust to this world more easily, I mean it certainly helped me when I was in Hyrule. How different could it be for time?

It didn't take too long to find wild after talking to time, and even less to finish off the work I had to do, now it’s just down to taking time shopping.

“So you want to look like you belong with a shot of espresso in an artisanal coffee shop while writing a research paper?”

“I only know what half of those words mean [name.], even less with how you’re using them.”

“Right, sorry. I’m still getting used to all of the differences in our cultures. Hopefully, you’ll get more used to the terms we use here sooner rather than later. Ready to go out though?”

“I am, it’ll be nice to get some new clothes. Not that I’m complaining about the excuse to wear yours.”

The nearest place that sells things like these isn’t exactly the closest to where I live, making it the perfect opportunity to adjust Time to my world’s transport. Well, more than he’s already seen anyway. Actually, now that I’m thinking about this, what size clothing even is he? Not that it’s an issue but not knowing a vague size is gonna mean he’s going to have to try on a lot of different fits. Then finding the right colours for him is a whole different challenge… And we’re already here… Time to find out the answers to those questions of mine.

“Where would you like to start?”

“A coat exactly like yours perhaps?”

“I don’t see why not. Any colour in mind or just the same style?”

A shrug was NOT what I wanted as an answer, but he does know what he wants which means that I’ve got somewhere to start. Trench Coats are somewhat pricey but with how some of the others are chipping in towards living costs now there’s no issue with spending out occasionally. He seems to be gravitating more towards things that are similar to mine, isn’t that charming? He sees something he likes on me then decides that’s what he wants for himself hopefully, he just stays away from the expensive ones. 

“You ready to try those on then, old man?”

“Just a moment more love, I can’t find quite the right colour yet.”

He just… How red is my face right now? It has to be crimson, doesn’t it? That’s the first time Time’s ever called me something like that naturally it’s when he’s looking at clothes like my own, is he trying to kill me with his charms?

[in1-nutshell]

Maximals reaction to Human Buddy having a rough day

SFW, platonic, Human reader

BW

Optimus primal

One of the first to see a difference in Buddy’s mood.

He’ll ask if they are okay once he gets a chance alone with them.

Doesn’t want to put Buddy on the spot in front of everyone

Buddy better think twice before lying to him.

The ape can smell lies from a mile away.

If Buddy starts ranting, Primal would listen while putting small things away. Not to mistake Primal for not caring and not paying attention, he is listening and understands what’s coming out of Buddy’s mouth. It’s just that he also needs to keep the ship a bit tidy, especially with how messy things can get with this crew.

If Buddy ends up crying, he’ll stop immediately whatever he is doing and hold them, gently rubbing circles on their back. If they don’t want to be touched, he’ll sit near them and wait patiently for them to stop. He won’t ask questions until Buddy is ready to talk. He will want to know what happened to make Buddy like this but will wait before attempting to try and fix anything.

If Buddy just wants a hug, Primal will give them a good, hearty hug… in private. If they insist Primal will make an exception.

“It’ll be okay. Everyone their bad days. Just remember you have family here you can talk to about this, I will be there if you ever need me again.”

Overall, 8/10.

Rhinox

Another one of the first to recognize Buddy’s change in mood.

Like Primal will ask what’s wrong in private.

Buddy physically cannot lie to Rhinox.

If Buddy starts to rant it can go in 2 ways.

1. He stops whatever he is doing and sits down near the control module and listens to them.

2. Puts Buddy on his shoulder and continues to do the task he was doing while also listening to Buddy.

If Buddy starts crying, he’ll bring them to either his quarters or theirs, give them side hugs and rub circles on their back until they are down. If they don’t want to be touched, he might retell them about the beautiful plants he saw on his patrol hoping that they will calm down. When they are done crying, Rhinox doesn’t immediately ask what’s wrong, he’ll talk to them about other things before reintroducing the problem. He might recommend the two of them to take a stroll outside the ship.

If Buddy asks for a hug, they are going to get it.

Rhinox will hug them until all the negativity is gone from their body.

“There, there, it’s okay there Buddy. Let it all out, there’s no good in keeping all this inside. You’ll only hurt yourself more if you do that, cry if you need to.”

Overall, 9/10.

Dinobot

Notices a shift in Buddy a bit later than Primal and Rhinox.

He won’t say anything out loud, but if it continues long enough, he’ll try and get them to talk, in a semi passive aggressive way.

Will actively sneer at any lie said.

If Buddy starts to rant, his body language will say that he doesn’t care, but he does listen and gives out questionable advice when given the opportunity.

If Buddy starts to cry, he starts to panic a bit, he just isn’t prepared to deal with these types of things. He’d much rather get a sword and cut down physical enemies down for them. Instead decides to give Buddy a pep talk about difficulties life can throw and how to be an honorable warrior through it. If it’s bad enough, he’ll throw in a pat on the back. If Buddy doesn’t want to be touched, he’ll stand near them still, almost acting as a bodyguard for them as they finish crying.

If Buddy wants a hug, it’s going to be a bit difficult to get it from Dinobot. He doesn’t hug. But he will let Buddy hug him for a bit, as long as it’s out of the crew’s vision. Primus forbids if Rattrap saw this happening.

“Even the strongest warriors have their moments. This will pass sooner than you expect. Now how does attacking Terrorsaur sound? I believe I saw him on the radar, care to join?”

Overall, 5/10

Rattrap

Like Dinobot, finds a shift in Buddy’s mood but doesn’t voice it out. He is however quicker to spot the shift than Dinobot is.

Has an internal debate on how to bring up the subject without it being awkward for either of them.

He knows a filthy lie when he hears one. They are almost as smelly as he is.

If Buddy starts ranting, he’ll stand by and hear them out. Will voice his opinion when he feels it’s needed.

If Buddy starts crying, he’ll try to get them to stop crying. Not because he finds the act annoying, it’s because he gets nervous around tears. But he does stop after seeing it not helping the situation. He lets Buddy cry next to him patting their back softly. If Buddy doesn’t want to be touched, he’ll just sit next to them silently and wait till they’re done.

 If Buddy wants a hug, he’ll give them a quick side hug in public. If they were private, he would give them a full hug before ‘threatening’ them if they ever told Dinobot or the others about this interaction.

“Listen kid, things will get better, I’m sure of it. Sure everything seems to be put up against us… but you know what? We gotta continue, cause that’s what we do.”

Overall, 6/10

Cheetor

Despite being one of the fastest members on the team, he is one of the slowest to notice that there’s a shift in mood with Buddy.

Once he does get drift that somethings wrong with Buddy, he makes their problem his problem and he is going to solve it.

Most likely to fall for one lie but would quickly learn from it.

If Buddy starts ranting, he’ll try his best to stay still and listen but it would most likely end up with him pacing the room that his in. Its hard for him to keep still.

If Buddy starts to cry, his panic would be more visible. Part of him believes that he did something to make them cry. Immediately gathers them up and goes move to them to a more secluded place so they can cry without anyone coming in. Once they are alone, he keeps them in his arms until the sniffling subsides. If Buddy doesn’t want to be touched, he’ll respect that and try his best to not initiate any physical contact until they are done crying. While he is waiting, he will tell Buddy funny mishap adventures he has had with the rest of the Maximals. When they’re done, he will ask his questions slowly, not wanting to accidentally make them upset again.

If Buddy wants a hug, they are going to be slightly suffocated by his fur and how tightly he hugs them, though he is mindful of their fragility. Will deny any purring that may or may not have happened while hugging.

“Hey, listen, we’ll get through this thing, I don’t know exactly what it is but if we stick together, I’m sure we can fix it. Everything’s going to be okay, alright?”

Overall, 8/10

Tigatron

He is one of the later ones to find out something is wrong with Buddy. The only reason why he doesn’t get it immediately is because he doesn’t visit the ship too often, thus doesn’t know Buddy’s mood too well.

Once he knows he’ll tip toe around the subject before asking what’s wrong.

There is no point in lying to him.

If Buddy starts to rant, he’ll get comfy before listening. Let’s them take their time.

If Buddy starts to cry, he’ll place his servo on their shoulder, gently rubbing small circles on their shoulder, letting them cry. If they don’t want to be touched, like Dinobot, he’ll stand near acting like a bodyguard. Once they have stopped crying, he’ll give some advice that he has learned from his time out.

If Buddy asks for a hug, he might hesitate a bit, but will relent and give them a quick hug.

“Young one, it is okay to feel how you feel, never let anyone say that about you. And remember everyone in the jungle has their struggles in life, you are not alone.”

Overall, 6/10

Airazor

A lot like Tigatron, Airazor won’t notice Buddy’s mood shift until later because of her absence in the base.

Once she gets wind that somethings wrong, she’ll observe from afar before asking anything.

May let one lie sly but will intervene when she deems it necessary.

If Buddy starts to rant, she’ll sit down with them and listen to what they have to say. Or invite them to go on patrol so they can get more privacy for the ranting.

If Buddy starts to cry, she’ll bury them in a hug in her feathers while gently rocking them back and forth. Will claw at anyone who decides to interrupt them. If Buddy doesn’t want to be touched she’ll stay by their side quietly fanning her wings a bit to let some cool air on their face. Will ask what’s wrong as soon as their done crying. She wants to know what got Buddy to be in such a state of mind.

If Buddy wants a hug, she’ll gladly give them a hug, maybe a little tickle from her feathers.

“Things do sometimes feel overwhelming, do they? But just remember you can talk to us, to me, if there’s anything on your mind.”

Overall, 8/10

Silverbolt

Is most likely the last to figure out that something is wrong with Buddy. Not that he wouldn’t figure it out himself, but it would have taken longer. Probably notices quicker if one of his teammates (most likely Rattrap) makes a comment on Buddy, then he would realize what’s going on.

After the realization, he makes it his personal mission to figure out what is wrong with Buddy.

Does not take any lie, wants the truth and only the truth.

If Buddy starts to rant, he’ll set up a comfy space for the both to sit in. He might rant with Buddy if they let him.

If Buddy starts to cry, he’ll hug them until there are no more tears left to shed while talking about how everyone has bad days and how to move forward even if it’s slow. If Buddy doesn’t want to be touched, he’ll just give them the pep talk. After they are done crying, he’ll ask if they want to talk about it later or not.

If Buddy asks for a hug, they will get a very elaborate hug. Example: running and spinning them around while hugging tightly while laughing.

“What you did with showing me your personal battle was very brave of you. Not even some of the greatest warriors can do what you did. And you know what, that makes you strong, if not stronger than they are. I’ll be there for you if you ever need me, just say the word, and I’ll be there.”

Overall, 9/10.

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of JOEL MILLER'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE LAST OF US.

EPISODE 3 - FOR A LONG, LONG TIME

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

I don’t want your sorrys-

Five hour hike. 

__________________

Not often, no.

People. 

Frank is. 

I didn’t fall down any stairs. 

Someone shot at me and missed. 

Yeah. 

No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think. 

In general.

No. 

Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed. 

You ask a lot of Goddamn questions. 

__________________

We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause-

No. I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.

Trust me, it’s all been picked over already. 

Just you. 

Fuck. 

__________________

Ellie? Ellie! 

Ellie?

There’s not much ammo out there for this thing. Makes it mostly useless. 

No. 

__________________

A few times, sure. 

Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich. 

Yeah, well. So did they. 

Pretty much. 

It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school. 

No-one knows for sure, but… best guess… Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal… pancake mix. You eat enough of it, it’ll get ya infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time Thursday. People brought it, ate some Thursday night, or Friday mornin'. Day goes on… they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse. Then they started bitin’.  Friday night, September 26, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone. 

Sure. 

We’ll cut across the woods here. 

Yeah, it’s just… There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see. 

I don’t want you to. 

I’m serious. Ellie.

No. 

About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers… went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were… if there was room. If there wasn’t… 

No, probably not. 

Dead people can’t be infected. 

__________________

I’m the same way. 

I understand. If my, uh… if mine… brought strangers into our situation, I wouldn’t be happy either. But of all the people he could’ve found on the radio, we’re actually decent people just tryin’ to get by. 

There’s stuff we have in the QZ that you don’t have here. Book, medicine, machine parts. We can help each other and get that gun outta my face. 

So, what, you were a… prepper or somethin’?

That fence has got a year on it, tops. Galvanised wire already started to corrode. I can get you ten spools of high-tensile aluminium. Last you the rest of your life. Lives. 

FEDRA’s never gonna come up here. And you’re well protected against stray infected. But sooner or later, they’ll be raiders. And they’ll beat that fence and your trip wires. They’ll come at night, quiet and armed. 

__________________

You stay there. 

Bill? Frank?

You stay there. You hear anything, you see anything… yell.

__________________

Ellie?

So they’re dead?

Go ahead. You do it. 

Stay here. 

__________________

Show me your arm. 

I just finished making a truck battery, it's charging right now. 

And I have a brother out in Wyoming. He’s in some kind of trouble and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. My guess is he knows where some of them are out there. Maybe they can get you to wherever this lab is. 

If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves. Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your… condition. They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three, you do what I say when I say it. We clear?

Repeat it. 

Okay. 

We grab what we can. 

__________________

If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks, this playlist would run over the radio. 

Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.

No. 

Needs another hour. 

__________________

Shut up.

__________________

It’s your first time in a car? 

No, it’s a piece-of-shit Chevy S-10, but it’ll get us there. I think. Seatbelt. Seatbelt.

Would you leave it? Put it back. Ellie... 

Oh, no, wait. No, leave it. Leave it. Ohm this is good. This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is? 

Oh, man. 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

[didee-anne]

Random stuff update

Had Addie’s birthday party yesterday! First party I didn’t take a single picture of, not even the cupcake tray. Rory snapped a few pictures and he had Jen record a few things so there are some pics to remember it. Most of the adults stayed as well and hung out and it just made me so freaking happy seeing Addie with all her cousins and friends, seeing all the adults chatting in little groups but not in a clicky way, there was plenty of pizza and cupcakes and chips for everyone…

Addie wanted to play pass the parcel so I bought a bunch of stickers and hair pretties and tattoos and glowsticks and then Jen put 2 parcels together and it took the kids a solid 30 minutes to get through them but since there were 2 parcels going at the same time none of the kids complained because they didn’t have to wait too long before it was their turn again. The middle prizes were little stuffies and they were a hit.

Moved the chicks out to a kennel in the chicken coop last week and I’m amazed at how much they’ve grown already! They’re turning into such pretty birds. I can’t tell which ones are hens and which ones are roos yet but that’s ok. By the time summer is over I should have an idea and I’m hoping to move them out of the kennel to be with the rest of the chickens in another month or maybe two. I’m hoping sooner rather than later but I can’t rush it otherwise they’ll get picked on hardcore and no one wants that.

I started a new antidepressant last week and am currently taking half a pill. I’m supposed to bump up to a whole pill on Wednesday but the half pill makes me slightly nauseous 20 minutes after taking it so I’m not looking forward to what a whole one will do. The nausea doesn’t last long though so it’s not that big of a deal but it’s not my favorite. If it helps make me not such an angry/sad ball of rage and tears then I’m fine with it but it’s too soon to tell how effective it’ll be.

The kids are supposed to have state testing the next two weeks but we don’t test so they’re not going to any of their Homelink classes and it’s like a second spring break but with slightly better weather! I mean, they do test because it’s required but we opt out of the state testing and do a different one that’s much more low key and is done by a person and not a computer.

[wooahaes]

congratulations on 1k! taking this opportunity to request (beg) you for any jeonghan comfort fluff - literally anything you write, i will gobble it up. i love your writing, as i'm sure you know.

- livvie (who is having quite a week and could really use a jeonghan bf to hold her)

aaa i hope this meets ur expectations livvie!!

massage

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: stressed reader. jeonghan gives reader a massage n then its cuddle time. intentional lowercase + no proofreading.

daisy’s notes: admittedly. i need a massage myself rn.

sometimes it seemed like jeonghan had a sixth sense for when you were feeling off.

maybe it was something in the way you texted him that you were leaving work. you’d only given him a short “leaving now” and nothing more--no questions of whether he needed anything or talk of dinner plans like the two of you usually would do. or maybe jeonghan was magic and just seemed to understand how stress would hit you sometimes, watching as it piled higher and higher on your shoulders until finally spilling late into the week. he always would complain that you should tell him sooner so that he can help you relieve stress, either by being there to listen or by distracting you however you needed, but that’d come after caring for you. you had said nothing to him when you came home past a general “i’m home” before you went straight to bed, changing out of your work clothes before practically collapsing onto the mattress just for a moment.

just to catch your breath.

and yet jeonghan maybe a minute later, lying down next to you. “do you want to talk about it?”

you opted to just groan in frustration instead. it was one of those days.

“ah. let me order dinner and then i’ll massage your shoulders. okay?”

you mumbled something about him ordering whatever he felt like, still muffled into the blankets.

“i already know your order,” he said, pulling up a food delivery app. “just give me a moment.” he looked up. “take off the sweatshirt so i can massage your back, too.”

despite not moving for another few moments, you propped yourself up enough to pull it over your head and set it onto the bed next to you. jeonghan dropped his phone onto the bed after a moment, saying he’d placed the order.

“hold on,” he said, moving to where he had better leverage over you. he hovered over you, knees on either side of your hips, as he gently pat your shoulders. “is this good? or do i need to move?”

“‘t’s fine,” you mumbled, angling your face so he could finally hear you properly. “you don’t have to do this, babe.”

“i want to. we can cuddle afterward, okay?” he started to knead at the tension in your shoulders, and you could practically feel how much he grimaced at that. “ah--see? you always get so tense.” he sighed, a little playful and over-exaggerated just to try and earn a smile from you. “you should be thankful to have such a sweet and handsome boyfriend...”

he hit a particularly sore spot, earning a groan of pain from you.

“oh, love...” his voice was softer then. “it’ll hurt a little, okay? let me know if it’s too much.”

he pressed his fingers into the knot he’d found, rubbing small circles slowly into your skin. he softly cooed at your whimper of pain, promising that he was only doing what he had to do in order to help you relax a little more.

“it wouldn’t get this bad if you came to me more,” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. normally, he’d be teasing you over the sounds you were making. instead, he just continued to massage out every knot and tense spot he found. “you take care of me when i need it. it’s okay to let me take care of you.”

“i know,” you sighed. “i just feel bad. you already deal with enough--”

“and you’re my partner and i love you and i want to be here for you, too,” jeonghan said, cutting you off. he climbed off of you, pulling your sweatshirt into his arms for a moment. “did that help? or do you need more?”

admittedly, jeonghan massaging your shoulders did make you feel a lot better. you hadn’t realized how tense you were. you ignored your sweatshirt as you crawled toward him, all but collapsing onto him. you shut your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you let out a heavy sigh.

“you don’t want it back?” he asked, acting as though he wasn’t about to pull it on himself. he liked stealing your bigger sweatshirts to look cozy in. it was always obvious when he did, in his friends’ opinions, because he always looked extra smug in being able to say that he was wearing his partner’s clothes.

(later that night, he would come back to the bedroom wearing your sweatshirt, takeout in hand and smiling with pride at successfully showing off that he was yours.)

“honey,” he said, reaching up to trace shapes onto your back, “don’t get too comfortable yet. i still need to get dinner.”

“mmhm,” you shut your eyes, relaxing against him.

“you look like you’re going to fall asleep.”

“and if i do?”

“you should eat first,” he hummed, drawing hearts now without much thought. “and then we can go to sleep.”

and yet he still let you cuddle in close, an arm draped around you that made you feel safe, a kiss pressed onto your temple.

[angelaiswriting]

Stage Love | Park Joong-gil

✏️ Pairing: (kind of eventual?) Park Joong-gil x fem!reader (mentions of fwb!Lim Ryung-gu x fem!reader, mentions of past Park Joong-gil x Koo Ryeon)

✏️ Summary: it’s supposed to be just work, but what happens when you actually start falling for the Park Joong-gil?

✏️ A/N: this is what happens when @kind-wolf​ goes on a tangent with some random AU and I dish out The Sex 😂 I also hope this drama actually has a fandom :’) (I also did go on a tangent with this, so it’ll have a part two hopefully soon.)

✏️ Content Warnings: modern!AU, singer!AU + fluff (I guess), slowburn, and smut, so 18+ only. Fwb stuff, fingering f/r, oral m/r and f/r, dry-humping, female masturbation, alcohol, food ? PJG is one sexy mf and everyone falls for him. [If I missed anything, just lmk.]

✏️ Word Count: 21k

✏️ Extra: I actually saw this on IG a few days ago and thought it’d fit well with this fic. Worth checking out imo 👀

PART ONE  >>  part two  |  part three

The surge of post-performance adrenaline is still rushing through your veins when you plop down onto the back seat of Joong-gil’s van. All the dancing on stage, rubbing into him in some parts of the choreography, the flashing lights, the audience – it all has you wired and buzzing, ready to take on anything the rest of the night might throw your way.

What’s even better, your manager has given you the night off to celebrate the foreseen (albeit still unbelievable) success of your new collab stage with one of the most wanted solo singers of Korea’s music scene, and his manager is currently standing outside the car, getting the last recommendations before you’re off for the night.

“You did well tonight,” Park Joong-gil says, sliding in and sitting down next to you.

He’s already making quick work of buckling his seatbelt when you correct, “we did well,” with a grin on your face. Despite the subtle scent of the still-lingering petrichor, you’re still so wired that your body doesn’t even register the chilly air blowing into the van in the few seconds it takes your fellow artist to pull the door closed. “I mean, after all these months I knew tonight’s performance would be awesome, but I wasn’t expecting for the fans to love it so much!” You’re pumped, barely able to put one thought after the other as you grin up at him.

Next to you, he chuckles low under his breath. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

You don’t even have the chance to see him miraculously half-smile: you’re bowing your head and waving goodbye to your manager, the bracelets on your wrist clinking against each other, and nodding when she gestures a ‘call me when you’re home’. She can’t hear you from inside the van, but she does catch on to you giving her the thumbs up.

“So, do you have any place in mind to go celebrate or can I pick one?” Joong-gil presses on, turning around to pick one of his hoodies from the rack in the back. The adrenaline will wear off sooner rather than later, and he doesn’t want you catching a cold because of the light outfit you wore on stage.

“Your choice, I’m not picky,” you nod, typing a quick I’ll tell you everything tomorrow to let your mother know not to wait up for your call. She’s always been your number one fan, and despite the fact that she would have wanted for you to pick a more traditional career path, she’s always supported you more than anyone else ever did.

“Good, I know a place safe enough.”

You don’t have time to ask what he means by ‘safe’ – guessing wouldn’t be too hard, though, what with that stupid ten-line article assuming this collaboration stems from a secret relationship between the two of you and the few comments it managed to garner before both your and Joong-gil’s agencies had it deleted. You don’t have the time to ask, and that’s because he’s shoving his black hoodie into your lap a second before he impatiently knocks on the side window to catch his manager’s attention.

“I’m good, don’t worry.”

“Take it, Yun-ho won’t come with us. I can only take you back home on my bike, unless you’d rather get a cab.”

It’s then that his manager, Yun-ho, gets into the car and turns back around with a grin on his face.

“Jumadeung?” he simply asks as you’re left sitting there with Joong-gil’s hoodie in your lap.

It’s almost warm against the bare skin of your stomach, and you’re torn between the realization that this is the first time he’s shown some sort of care towards you outside of the studio in the long months of preparation that led to this comeback and the curiosity lying underneath the fact that you have no goddamn clue what a Jumadeung even is.

As it turns out, Jumadeung is the name of a bar located one story below Seoul in what, at first sight, looks very well like an abandoned building. If it wasn’t for Joong-gil being there with you and giving you a semblance of security, you would have run the other way.

The cul-de-sac Yun-ho steers into is a dark and narrow alleyway, and when you get out of the van right after Joong-gil, your boots stomping right into a puddle left behind by the early evening storm, you decide you don’t even want to know what’s at the end of it – rats? Seoul’s lowlife? Death reapers? Yeah, no thanks, you’ll happily pass.

The air really is chilly, however, and you’re suddenly glad you accepted Joong-gil’s offer of wearing his sweatshirt because now, underneath the thick cotton of it, you can feel gooseflesh tug at the hairs on your arms.

“Are you…” You turn around with a surprised gasp when you hear the sound of his van driving away, and you scurry forward until you’re childishly holding onto the back of Joong-gil’s leather jacket. “Are you secretly a serial killer?” you whisper, furtively looking around to mentally check for quick ways out.

Don’t accept candy from strangers and don’t get into strangers’ cars, you hear your mother scold you, twenty or so years ago, after you had just moved for the first time to a new house in Busan. Oh boy, if only she could see you now!

But Joong-gil chuckles, turning to look at you from above his right shoulder before he shakes his head in amusement.

“You know I have money. No need to kidnap me if you want it!” You keep the tone of your voice light and airy, and laugh – after all, you’ve mastered the art of coming off as though you have a hold of the situation – but you still suspiciously eye the closed dry-cleaner you spot as soon as you step foot into the building.

“I also do have money,” he laughs, taking a turn to the left to walk past an empty shop with a big ‘for sale’ sign on the dirty glass door. “Our collab will bring me more than kidnapping you might. So…”

“Of course, I was just kidding,” you shrug, letting go of his jacket and taking a few quick steps so that you can walk side by side with him. That’s not very reassuring is what you were on the verge of saying but you manage to bite your tongue and get a grip on yourself. Nevertheless, there’s still a spark of uneasiness twisting your insides into knots when he starts walking down a dimly lit set of stairs.

You’re almost tempted to just turn around and bolt your way out of there, but you didn’t exactly pay attention to your surroundings on the way here and you wouldn’t know which way to go before he catches up to you. After all, you were too preoccupied with texting back to your closest friends and confirming to your manager that yes, you’re gonna be safe and that yes, you’re gonna stay glued to Joong-gil’s side like a mussel to a rock, so she really has nothing to worry about.

Well, think again.

The man in question looks up at you from the bottom of the staircase when he notices you haven’t been following him and you see the way he tries his damndest not to snicker in your face. “C’mon down, I’m no serial killer.”

“Sounds exactly like something a serial killer would say,” you reply with fake laughter in your voice as you grab the railing with your left hand, just to immediately regret it when you feel how sickeningly sticky it is against your skin.

“Jumadeung’s just a bar,” he sighs, walking up three steps before stretching an arm out in your direction and making you feel like you’re being too dramatic. “Others like us come here for the privacy,” he continues. “Jade’s not exactly… keen on the paps and the whole ‘overstepping boundaries’ part of our job, so we’re good. No risk of other articles like that one.”

That one – he says it in a way that brings you back to when that article came out. The PR team of your agency managed to screencap it before they had it taken down in no time. Still, he was furious, and didn’t show up at meetings for a whole week and a half, leaving you to work in the studio alone. It made you wonder whether being caught up in a dating scandal with you really was that bad, but you managed to overcome that quickly enough. After all, you’re well aware of your worth. Always have been.

“Alright.” If he picks up on the uneasiness in your voice, he doesn’t show it.

Ah, fuck it! He has a cute-enough face, you think, trying to be reasonable and not let the true crime shows you watch in the dead of night on screen-share calls with your best friend in Busan get to you.

You walk down the steps and accept his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull you along with him. A swift turn to the right, and there’s a long corridor lit with what feels like hundreds of colorful fairy lights that lead closer and closer to the source of the faint music you can now hear. It’s like walking towards a portal to another dimension, the atmosphere in this corridor is completely different from that of the rest of the building – warm, peaceful, like there’s no safer place than this in Seoul.

“Okay, the whole bar story seems a lot more believable now,” you chuckle, forcing a smile to stretch on his lips in turn.

“See? Told ya,” he teases as he pulls the door open and the warmth of the bar wafts right into your face.

The music is louder here, but still at a reasonable volume that would allow you to have a comfortable conversation with him but probably not hear what the patrons sitting at other tables are saying.

“I’d go wash my hand if I were you, by the way. The rest of this building isn’t exactly famous for being clean,” he says, quickly letting go of your right hand all of a sudden.

His words don’t leave you the time to look around – not that you would have understood the reason behind that sudden lack of contact anyway – for your gaze shoots down to your left hand almost as though it’s a magnet. The skin of your palm still does feel sticky in the most uncomfortable way. 

“Ew!”

You quickly walk down the side corridor he points out to dash into what you hope is a clean bathroom. And it really is. It’s a stark contrast with the rest of the building, or the very little part of it you’ve managed to get a glimpse of when you dramatically thought you were walking the last stretch to the gallows.

The foamy soap smells fruity when you start scrubbing your hands, and there are other fairy lights reflecting in the wall-sized mirror the counter with the sinks is standing against. The stalls behind you are a simple deep burgundy color and from how all doors are pushed open, you can see you’re alone in here. It gives you the time to finally breathe and get a good look at yourself in the mirror.

What was a perfectly clean make-up look at the beginning of the night, before your performance on stage, is now slightly smudged and lighter, but the fairy-dust glitter on your face is still there, glimmering underneath the blinking fairy lights. Joong-gil’s black hoodie perfectly matches with the black cargo pants they gave you for tonight’s stage – definitely not your favorite kind of outfit, but it is still very comfortable to dance in – and the black, vine-like (but unfortunately fake) tattoo slithering its way around your wrists all the way to the pulled-back sleeves around your elbows.

You’re dabbing your hands dry with paper towels when your phone vibrates in the pocket of your pants. When you unlock it, it’s your best friend asking for your whereabouts – and dusting off that crush you’ve always had on Park Joong-gil and that you had to hide ten thousand meters deep.

[11:47 PM] Bit-na 👯‍♀️: i know he’s famous and all, but if he’s a perv, i’m coming all the way to Seoul to kick his sexy sorry ass.

It makes you laugh – she’d probably be late to your death, but at least you know she’d have your back. She’s always had it, ever since you joined her ballet classes when you were a child up until you left Busan to pursue music.

[11:48 PM] you: proof i’m still alive!

You quickly shoot back, and while still chuckling, you attach a mirror selfie.

[11:48 PM] Bit-na 👯‍♀️: cool! but whose hoodie is that?! didn’t know you were into others’ merch.

[11:49 PM] you: yeah he took me to a nice bar in a shady building. i’ll update you when i’m back home! if ever lol

[11:50 PM] Bit-na 👯‍♀️: he? Park Joong-gil?!

Your reply is a quick yep, and you’re still laughing quietly when you sit down in the booth Joong-gil’s picked.

“Something happened back there?” he asks, picking up on your hilarity and leaning to the side to shoot a quick glance in the direction of the bar’s restrooms.

“Just my friend,” you shrug, taking your (his) sweatshirt off when the stuffiness of Jumadeung finally gets to you. “She thinks she’s funny,” you grin. “You’ve met her. Sort of. The one I was on a call with that day in the dance studio.”

He laughs. “Oh, yeah, I remember her. What was she asking? Something about you getting great head, no?”

His words – or probably more the fact that he actually remembers that embarrassing bit of the conversation when your phone accidentally connected back to the bluetooth system of the dance studio – take you so much by surprise that your hand jerks a little and spills some soju on the table by his glass.

You groan, filling your glass and turning your head to the side to bottom it up. “Damn, how the hell do you even remember that?” you manage to ask from behind your hands, currently hiding your burning face from him.

It was a late night two months into the two of you working together, after you both agreed to turn your one-song collab deal into a full album after seeing how flawlessly you worked together between songwriting, producing, and dancing. Joong-gil had gone down to the front desk to pick up your food delivery, and you had taken the opportunity to call Bit-na back after the three missed calls she had left on your phone that day.

Everything was going smoothly, with you asking her about her date and her asking you about… well, yours, even though it was more like a friendly hook-up than anything with actual feelings. It was then that Joong-gil had walked in, put the bags down onto the table, and accidentally touched something on the laptop you were using to play the music. His mistake had paired back your phone to the system after you had enabled it that afternoon, and the rest apparently became history when Bit-na’s cheerful, “I can’t believe you’re getting great head with him and I can’t even get a boyfriend” sounded all around the studio and you felt yourself being swallowed up by the floor as you watched Joong-gil’s back tense in the mirror for a moment before he let out a cackle.

After that night, you both silently agreed to never bring that accident up and, to say the truth, you had started to forget all about it. That is, well, until tonight.

“Hey, it’s all right!” Joong-gil chuckles, pulling your hands away from your face and handing you your refilled glass. “Drink up before you combust right in front of me.”

“God, I can’t believe you had to hear that, or that you even remember,” you groan, covering your eyes with one hand and clicking your tongue at the bitterness of your drink. “I hoped you’d have forgotten by now.”

He laughs again, careful not to be too loud, before he downs his soju. “Where did the sensual Y/N that danced and sang on that stage end up?”

You glare at him with mock annoyance before snorting. “I can be both sensual and embarrassed at the same time. One doesn’t necessarily cancel the other.”

He smirks, “fair enough.”

It’s silent for a heartbeat, and then there’s a middle aged woman – Jade, you assume after a while – standing by your table, wearing an apron around her waist that has a marble pattern printed on it in the hues of ivory and gold. “I saw your stage on tv,” she says, first glancing at Joong-gil and then at you from behind her sparkly glasses. “Joong-gil told me how great of a performer you were, but I was still pleasantly impressed,” she grins.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, but you want to brush it down to the warmth of the place, or to the fact that someone is complimenting you without going over the moon in the attempt to. It’d be unhealthy to think you’re flustered because he’s apparently spoken highly of you – or of you in general – to someone he knows, because that would bring back the first sparks of that crush you started to develop on him through all the time you’ve spent together for this new album – and even before that.

“Thank you,” you reply with a bow of your head, quickly glancing up at your friend before you notice the plate of chocolate cake the woman’s putting down on your table.

“He’s also mentioned you thought he was taking you to your death earlier,” she continues.

Her words make your head fall into your hands in the third attempt at hiding yourself tonight. “I’m really sorry. With how the building and the neighborhood look, I really thought-”

“It’s alright.” She’s chuckling, so you figure it’s not that bad, or at least that she hasn’t taken offense to that. “I know how the first impression can be. It’s part of the reason why no one knows about this place. People that need a hide-out find me through word-of-mouth, that’s what matters.”

You nod, not knowing what to say but thankful for her being so understanding, and she leaves.

“You really had to tell her, didn’t you?” you pout, picking up one of the golden spoons and digging into your shared slice of cake. You love a good source of chocolate after a performance that has made you stress out as much as tonight’s stage did: Joong-gil’s known for never doing collaborations, and you’ve been agonizing about the reaction his fans would have when you’d finally perform together live for the first time. You try to suppress the smile this cake brings onto your lips: you suddenly recall telling him of this sort of tradition you have, and you can’t believe he’s actually remembered. He seems to be particularly good at that when that realization starts making you feel dangerously warm inside.

He’s smiling when you look up at him, and for the first time you realize he’s never really smiled at you before. Sure, there have been tight smiles or smirks, or the photograph smiles he always puts on during photoshoots or interviews, but the way he’s smiling at you now makes you feel as though the butterfly you have tattooed on your wrist has moved all the way up your arm and down to your stomach, where it has gathered an army all of a sudden.

God, you think. Now you understand why everyone always swoons for him – the way his fans love him, the way interviewers love him, the way tv or youtube hosts love him. The reason why you started crushing on him. One smile from him and everything’s warm and fuzzy all of a sudden, like the rest of the world slows down to allow him time to shine.

His smile forces you to look at him for the first time since you’ve arrived at Jumadeung – his tousled hair, not as perfect as it was before your performance; the shadows his long lashes cast on his cheekbones; the way the hues of the fairy lights above dance along the bridge of his nose.

“She was simply complimenting your performance tonight, and it just came out. You gotta admit it was funny, the way you thought I’d kidnap you when I’m the one who pushed hard for this collab to happen in the first place,” he grins, shaking his head.

He’s fucking gorgeous. Now you can whole-heartedly agree with Bit-na and allow yourself to admit it. Not that you didn’t know before, of course! The dude is a fucking model; you’re sure he could have anyone or anything he wanted with a simple snap of his fingers. But you’ve always done your best to keep it very… professional  – for lack of a better word – between the two of you. No touches out of line during dance practices, during all the time you’ve spent together to fine-tune your choreographies – and you must agree with him that there are a few that are more sensual than others. No lingering gazes in the studio, or during promotional photoshoots. Everything has always been clean and precise, like any other polished interactions you’ve had with fellow artists, stemming from nothing else but the sheer need to not be caught up in some rumor.

Tonight feels different, however. And you know it’s one-sided, but fuck. It’s the stupid atmosphere in this stupid bar, you decide. It’s cozy and private and extremely relaxed, with booths you can hide away in, and the fact that the paparazzi have never once found this place surely is a nice perk. It makes you believe that you’re on a date with him – on a date with fucking Park Joong-gil, of all people. That you’re just some normal girl out with some normal dude.

You shake your head, finding it extremely hilarious that your hormones would decide to go down that path now.

But you’ve been silent for long enough, and you don’t want to give the wrong impression. Like you’re mad, or like you’re starting to actually crush on him. So you level him with an amused stare and, “well, watch out then, Park. Next round’s mine, I’ll be embarrassing you.”

He chuckles at that promise, and you’re left there, grinning up at him like you’re a fangirl at a fan meet of his. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; you just want to be professional – you’ve always been, and there’s no reason why the frenzied hormones of a post-stage night should ruin that for you.

But then, just as you’re both back to digging into your cake, someone calls your name loud enough to be heard from the other end of the room. Your eyes snap up, and you see Joon-woong waving a hand in your direction.

You wave back, noticing the pink-haired woman and the dark-haired man sitting opposite him with their back to you. Ryeon and Ryung-gu – you could recognize them from miles away.

“The RMT guys are here,” you inform Joong-gil. “Looks like Joon-woong is inviting us to their table. Wanna go?”

You’re grinning, and your eyes are sparkling just as much as the light, dust-like glitter on your face, and of course you have no knowledge of any of that, but it strikes something inside him, punches him right in the guts. And fuck, he can’t say no when you look like that, like you’re some dream miraculously materialized in front of him. So, he begrudgingly nods and picks up your plate with the unfinished cake, and trails after you like a puppy.

Ryeon greets you with a smile, putting down her phone for a moment to congratulate you, but you miss the way she looks up at a Joong-gil who’s uncharacteristically standing awkwardly next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. After quick bows of your heads, Joon-woong wraps you in a tight embrace, grinning at the way you’re finally not someone who turns down his hugs, and then sits back down to allow Joong-gil to sit on the chair next to him while you pull one from under the neighboring table.

“Hey,” you whisper as you lean into Ryung-gu, playfully pecking him on the cheek as he wraps an arm around your waist, giving your hip a quick squeeze. Maybe if you think a bit more about the kind of head he gave you on the few times you’ve met up for that, you won’t be acknowledging the weird way Joong-gil’s making you feel tonight.

After the introductions, it’s awkward at first, and you can’t exactly put a finger onto why. The RMT guys and Park Joong-gil have never been caught up in any scandal of any kind, not involving each other at least and not that you know of. And being signed for the same agency as they are, you’ve never heard of any tension or unfriendliness between them.

But then you’re not thinking about that anymore because you’re all talking. Well, you and Joon-woong are – you’ve always been the chatterboxes, after all – with Joong-gil and Ryung-gu chipping in every once in a while, and Ryeon listening more than she’s participating.

Joon-woong talks about your performance, the way both you and Joong-gil fired up both the stage and the audience, and how crazy everyone’s gone over the two of you on social media. From Instagram to Twitter, he’s been keeping an eye on it all. If your mother is your number one fan, then Choi Joon-woong is number two: he’s always been nothing but encouraging and supporting, even more so after you texted him about your collab with his very own idol, Park Joong-gil.

You’re sexy. He’s sexy. This is gonna be fucking bomb! – you remember him texting you that after he accidentally sent a voice message of himself screeching excitedly at the news and all the new career opportunities working in such tight contact with someone like Korea’s ‘it’ boy could bring you.

When Ryeon receives a call, however – you think you recognize their manager’s voice over the phone – they get up and bid their goodbyes. Ryung-gu holds you close this time, whispers something into your ear that Joong-gil doesn’t catch, but then suddenly everything’s as clear as day for him.

“We should go, too,” Joong-gil says after a moment of the two of you being alone, standing up and motioning for you to put his hoodie back on while he goes up to the counter to pay.

His bike stands lonely in one of the empty underground garage boxes and he leads you to it in silence.

You have this nagging suspicion that something’s shifted between the two of you between the moment you entered Jumadeung and the moment you left, but you’re tired, and the stress of the days – months – leading up to this performance and that of all the stages you’ll have to dance from now on when you leave on tour is finally catching up with your body. your legs are heavy and your arms are sore. You really can’t wait to be home, take a quick shower, and then disappear underneath the fluffy blankets you have on your bed.

“We have the first round of interviews tomorrow afternoon, remember?” he asks as he hands you his spare helmet. Maybe now would be the right time to tell him you’ve never been on a motorbike – the prop you used in one of your past music videos doesn’t count – but the words somehow don’t come out.

So you nod with a hum as you let him buckle your helmet. “Make-up at 3. Quick photoshoot at 4. Three interviews starting at 5:30,” you list, your mind providing you with the mental photograph of the schedule your manager jotted down on a post-it note stuck to your fridge. “Then dinner with our teams at 8.”

He makes a face at your detailed response, almost as though he’s surprised by how precise you are. But he’s satisfied with you being well aware of your joint plans, and he straddles the bike without another word, waiting for you to slide in behind him.

You’ve been close to him already – of course you’ve been. What with the dancing, or all the photoshoots you’ve had so far. Even the time spent brainstorming on the couch in his studio, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, going over lyrics and munching on snacks, pretty much breathing the same air. But it’s never felt like this, and when he reaches for your wrists to wrap your arms around his torso, you chastise yourself for feeling this way.

There’s a line you shouldn’t cross, and before tonight the urge to do it had never surfaced. You wonder what has been the source of that change, and all you can come up with is tonight’s – well, last night’s – performance.

“Hold on tight,” he tells you from above his shoulder and before you know it, you’re back into the streets of the capital.

You’d facepalm yourself if you weren’t riding a bike at breakneck speed. Of course it’s the chemicals in your brain all going off at once after performing the first stage of your comeback! By the time you wake up later today – you tell yourself – you’ll be back to normal.

You fall asleep with that thought kept on repeat in your mind and with the lingering feeling of Joong-gil’s leather jacket underneath your fingertips.

*

You wake up with your feelings all over the place, however, after a restless night’s sleep with dreams of him one after the other. If you didn’t have a busy day ahead, you’d be texting back and forth with Bit-na about the topic, asking for an opinion or simply a wake-up call. Instead, you call your mother to briefly tell her about last night and try to ignore the fact that you seem to have finally started to succumb to a crush you thought you had forgotten everything about.

The infamous article insinuating romance between you and the solo singer is somehow being kept on the backburner of your mind. The way fans reacted at first, or at least those that managed to before the article was taken down. The judging comments, insinuating you were using him for his fame – which, considering also his modeling and acting gigs, is considerably more than yours, there is unfortunately no denying that – despite the fact that he is the one who seeked you out first, but that is something nobody outside your agencies knows.

“Nervous?” Joong-gil asks, looking at your reflection in the mirror while his stylist fixes his hair.

He always looks so perfect, so well put-together, not one single hair out of place. It’d be hard not to fall for his charm. And then he opens his mouth and shows off how well-spoken and knowledgeable he is, and the difficulty triplicates.

You shrug, smiling lightly and closing your eyes to allow your make-up artist to finish the sophisticated look they picked for your eyeshadow. “Every time’s like the second time.”

“Not the first?” you hear the curiosity in his voice.

“I was a mess on my first time,” you chuckle, and then chuckle some more when your make-up artist says, but you held it together like a champ! She’s been with you since the beginning, and you’re glad she’s still here: she’s always been an integral part of keeping you sane and calm. “My second time went a lot better because I knew what to expect, but I was still nervous.”

He’s holding out a hand for you when you open your eyes, and you’re hesitant to take it. You think back to last night, when he stood a few steps below you in that dirty building, when you still thought Jumadeung didn’t exist or that it was some horror-movie room of torture where you’d heave your last breath. It was warm in your hand, his skin smooth aside from the few calluses from gripping the weights he lifts at the gym.

You take a hold of it now, and he wraps his fingers tightly around your hand before he grabs the arm of your chair with his other hand and pulls you closer until your knees are slotted between his spread legs and pressed up against the edge of his seat.

It’s a relief that everyone’s left the changing room because you wouldn’t want to explain the way Joong-gil’s sudden action makes you gasp.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright,” he smiles. It’s a soft smile that does more harm than good and all you can do is look down at the way he’s still holding onto your hand, like that’s exactly where he belongs. You have no clue how to tell him today’s interviews are not exactly what’s making you nervous or even if you should be telling him in the first place. “We’ve already done this to prepare for yesterday’s show plenty of times. You’re great at this game.”

You nod silently, playing with the hem of the confetti baby pink dress you’re made to wear. You hate this color, and you hate the way the organza of the skirt makes the skin of your thighs itch. “I can’t wait for today’s schedule to be over,” you confess, and that’s not even a lie.

“It’ll be over in a heartbeat.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, and you don’t know how to feel.

You know how you do feel at the moment – your butterfly has fled your wrist again and is back in your stomach, moving around with the same strength of a herd of elephants, which is considerably more than it was last night.

It’s like being back on that stage, just as everyone cheered your flawless performance and you turned around to briefly glance at him at the end of your show. The droplets of sweat running down the side of his face, the way he was panting, his chest rising and falling underneath his loose shirt, and the grin he sent your way. Then you got off the stage, back behind the scenes, and he pulled on your hand and wrapped you in a hug tighter than Joon-woong’s, all sweaty and scorching hot, laughing like a maniac with the adrenaline pushing through his system.

Part of you is still right there, rooted to the spot.

You wonder whether your brain’s still wired up on the same frequency it latched onto last night – the excitement of having jumped the first hurdle, the way performing on stage always makes you feel, the sheer joy dancing brings upon you and how powerful singing makes you feel. You want to think it’s that, and not that you’re falling for him, because that would simply make the rest of this job harder. There’s a million people like you, but apparently only one like him.

But then last night at Jumadeung crawls its way back to the forefront of your mind. You felt something at the table and caught a look Ryeon sent Joong-gil’s way, a look you couldn’t exactly put into words, even more so because you were distracted talking to Joon-woong and feeling Ryung-gu’s hand on your thigh.

They are your friends, they have been ever since you started training at the agency and even more so after you debuted… You want to be able to invite them to celebrate all together at some point down the line, and if that means the atmosphere isn’t going to be relaxed, then you won’t be able to do it.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, tilting your head back to face him by grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

The proximity makes your heart jump up into your throat. You want your brain to calm down, and for the butterflies in your stomach to stop flying around.

“Did something happen between you and the members of RMT?” The question is out before you can bite your tongue.

He tilts his head to the side. “Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as you can muster, but deep down fearing you won’t be able to have your friends there with you when it eventually comes to celebrating this collaboration. “Last night felt… I don’t know, tense, in a way, I guess, after we joined their table. I don’t remember reading anything about a fight between you or-”

“Ryeon and I dated for a while.”

Your babbling comes to a screeching halt when he says that. He says it matter-of-factly, like it’s the most random thing and not such a well-kept secret even you, after all the time you’ve spent with her, knew absolutely nothing about. “What? When?”

Fuck. What the fuck are you even doing here with him, allowing yourself to feel the way and the things you feel?

“Three years ago.”

You’re still blinking, barely even processing what he’s saying. There’s only one Park Joong-gil, you’re well aware of that, but there’s also only one Koo Ryeon. Of course, they would have ended up together one way or another at some point. Your imbalanced brain really does see the sense in that. “How long?”

“A few months.” He frowns before adding, “why are you so shocked?”

“Ryeon never mentioned anything about a relationship…”

You’re still gaping when someone knocks on the changing room’s door, warning the both of you that you still have ten minutes before the shoot.

“Yeah well, it’s over now.” He says it in a way that makes you believe he’s still somewhat suffering because of it and you know you shouldn’t overthink or insinuate stuff about others, but now some of his lyrics kind of do make more sense. “Talking about RMT…” He’s smirking, changing the topic, which is never a good thing when it comes to him and how surprisingly teasing he can be. “Lim Ryung-gu…”

Your spine straightens up before you can make yourself hide the surprise his name douses you with. “What about him?”

His hand is still in yours, and you find yourself praying to anything good and holy that he doesn’t feel how clammy it becomes. You know how good an observer he can be; you’ve come to learn a lot of things about him in the time you’ve been working together.

“Just wondering. Is he the one with peak head game?”

Your eyes widen for a moment and you can feel all the blood both drain from your face and rush to your cheeks.

It’s a weird feeling. You never thought you’d get caught. Ryung-gu lives in your same condominium, so sneaking around when one or both of you need a way to release stress has always been easy. No one sees, and no one writes anything. It’s always been a great deal.

You escape Joong-gil’s question by the skin of your teeth when your manager opens the door to announce it’s time for the photoshoot. The sudden wave of relief makes you jump up like a spring and push your chair back in one single movement, and you try to ignore the way Joong-gil chuckles under his breath.

Throughout the whole photoshoot you try not to think about Ryung-gu, or about how close to Joong-gil some poses have you be. With his arms around you, caging you against the prop brick wall, his eyes staring into yours the way the photographer orders him to while you look straight at the camera, it’s somewhat easy to forget the rest of the world. You just hope he doesn’t hear how loud your heart is beating inside your chest, or how deafening the blood flow in your eardrums is.

“Thaaat’s perfect,” you hear the photographer cheer. “A few more like that, and then we’re moving on to the last batch.”

“Relax,” Joong-gil murmurs against your cheek, his nose brushing against your skin with how the next pose has the two of you. “Even I feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest,” he chuckles under his breath.

The sound and feel of him so close makes a thrill crawl down your spine, and suddenly your brain’s not focusing anymore on your friend Ryeon dating Park Joong-gil or on Joong-gil (correctly) suspecting about something between you and Ryung-gu. Back in the changing room you almost wanted to tell him it’s just sex, a way to lock the rest of the world out for a moment, but you have no clue what idea he’s going to have about you if you tell him that.

“I’m alright,” you whisper back, peering up at him and immediately regretting doing so. With how close together your faces are, you could count every single one of his lashes if you wanted. His breath fans the top of your lips in such a way that it feels like the ghost of a kiss, and you’re so close to him you can smell his cologne, and probably the faint scent of his foundation cream as well. “Just a bit nervous. It’s really real now.” And then you add, “the collab, I mean.”

His smile feels more blinding than the flashing lights of the camera, and the rest of the day goes by in a blur. The photoshoot, the interviews… You go on autopilot, almost, and only come out of it by the end of the third interview. It’s for a magazine your mother loves to read. No cameras are rolling, only the reporter’s voice recorder is recording on the coffee table between you and Joong-gil on a low leather couch and her on a matching chair.

“Last night’s stage was a huge success,” she says. “Your mv did really well on all platforms, but that performance was bomb. Everyone’s talking about how good you look together!”

You smile, daring a glance at Joong-gil. He’s setting his jaw, but he’s good at masking that with the smile he still has on his lips, unwavering.

“The chemistry between the two of you seems to be off the charts, truly. Your fans have been going crazy ever since you posted the first video.” You’ve seen this particular interviewer on TV a few times, and you know what part of the interview this is. Just because you’re not being recorded on film doesn’t mean she’s changing her M.O. “Has anything sweet bloomed between you?”

Joong-gil chuckles, and if that woman wasn’t already hanging from his every word before, she sure is now, heart eyes and all. But then again, you do understand her: resisting his spell isn’t easy. He’s one fine specimen, always has been. “Y/N’s an amazing person and artist, and I do admit we work really well together, but not everything boils down to a romantic relationship.”

You find yourself nodding. Get out of your head, this is strictly business, you tell yourself, but then voice your agreement with what your colleague’s just said.

A few more pleasantries, and then you’re being dragged back into the changing room and to your van. This time it is your van. You sit in the back and your manager behind the wheel, and then you’re off for some informal dinner in a reserved restaurant where no one will bother you.

You look up from your phone screen only when she calls your name.

“Great job today,” she grins through the rearview mirror when she stops at a red light. “The photoshoot was spectacular and you handled yourself well during the interviews. To someone who knows you, though… is everything alright? You seemed a bit distracted.”

“It’s just…” It’s just me developing a stupid crush on a colleague. And Ryeon apparently was in a relationship with this colleague in the past, and she never mentioned a word about it. And then, oh yeah, it doesn’t happen often, but I’m fucking Ryung-gu when I’m stressed, but now I’ve been so stressed and busy that I haven’t been able to, and my Joong-gil’s apparently found out after spending half an hour with us anyway. We have so much scheduled that I’ll probably have to schedule restroom breaks as well. And I’m always afraid of messing up on stage, no matter how hard I prepare for it. And what if I really do end up falling for Joong-gil? Dude’s been closed off to the world so much that it’s a miracle he and Ryeon even dated. But you confess none of that, opting for a neutral, “I’m a bit nervous about all future performances. We still have like a billion interviews coming up and I really hate being asked about relationships and having to pretend I’m the fairy this industry portrays me as.”

She smiles understandingly and nods her head, her eyes always trained on the road. It’s a good thing that she’s a great driver and that she cares about everyone’s safety so much that she never trails her eyes off the road. She’d probably see right through you if she were to turn around right now. “That’s understandable. I can’t imagine being in your shoes, it would make me freak out six times out five.”

You giggle with her.

“But you’re great at what you do. Leave it to me and the PR team to monitor the comments online and the articles, don’t worry about that. You’re doing great already,” she reassures you. “Also, you’re not doing it alone this time. Mr Park looks like he knows what he’s doing when it comes to prying questions. He’s always very reserved when it comes to his personal life, so I’m sure he’ll help in keeping those questions to a minimum like he did today.”

“You’re right,” you nod absentmindedly, looking out the window at Seoul’s night traffic. But you apparently don’t sound convincing enough.

“Is anything else on your mind?”

You decide to lie. “Nope.”

*

He is on your mind, however.

Park fucking Joong-gil.

For the first time ever, he’s sitting at your kitchen table after your teams’ dinner, dropping a piece of candy into his soju. You don’t know what got into you when you invited him up to your place, and you want to say the fact that you were all pressed up against his back on his bike for the second time did not cloud your common sense, but that would be a fat lie.

“I’m sorry if I pried this afternoon,” he says after a while, when you finally sit down with a steamy mug of chamomile tea for you and push another one his way. It’s a silly mug, with grinning fluffy white sheep on a green background, but your mother loved it too much not to buy it for you. It’s probably not the best thing to give your guest, you realize at the last minute. “What’s going on between you and Lim Ryung-gu is none of anyone’s business but your own.”

“No, it’s…” You huff, scrunching your forehead with your fingers before smothering your hand down your face. It’s kind of intimidating to sit there bare-faced in front of someone who looks so good even after a long day of work. “I was the one who poked her nose in your business first. Ryung-gu and I are just… friends. It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated?”

The skin of your face burns, and you can’t look him in the eyes. Instead, you let the night skyline outside your window catch your attention. “We… It’s just… It’s hard sometimes, you know? This life.” You look down. Your nerves get the best of you and you start tracing the rim of your mug with your middle finger. “It’s stressful already as it is, and then you go out and there’s suddenly a new rumor about you every step you take. This is dating that. Or X got a nose job. Y has been caught dancing in a club. It follows you everywhere you go even after you clock out for the day.”

He smiles. “Sometimes I feel like we don’t really clock out.”

You groan. “Don’t remind me of that. Fucking yes. So… Ryung-gu lives two floors above me. It’s easy to… let out stress when no one can see.” You’re burning even more than your chamomile tea is.

Why the hell are you telling him that? You don’t owe him anything, least of all an explanation, and yet, you’ve started to realize that a silly part of you kind of does want him – and for him to want you. Park Joong-gil, that is.

He’s nodding, almost as though he’s piecing the pieces together. “Is he who your friend was talking about that day on the phone, correct?” he asks again.

You nod.

“There’s nothing wrong with falling for someone.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, but he’s the one looking out the window this time and you only catch his side profile and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he drinks his soju.

“It’s not… like that.” You don’t know where your voice went. It almost makes you feel bad that you don’t have feelings for Ryung-gu and that he doesn’t have any for you. Almost like you fuck on autopilot. Like the connection is only physical and platonic and it doesn’t go deeper than that. Maybe, if you did it more often, then you would start catching feelings, but you’re careful with not fucking around too much.

“You look like your heart’s beating out of your chest again,” he smirks, taking the mug you prepared for him.

“Yeah well, maybe because it is.” You hide behind your hands again, sighing down into your mug.

“You know, you have no explaining to do. It’s just… natural. As long as it helps…,” he shrugs.

He’s so nonchalant about it. It almost makes you wonder whether that’s how things started between him and Ryeon, even though Ryeon never seemed like the one to do things just because she’s horny. She’s level-headed, probably the most level-headed person you know – despite the fact that you had no clue she was seeing someone, so who knows.

“Are you nervous now?” he asks and you hum. There’s a beat of silence and then, “is it because of me?”

“No!” Well yes, but you can’t tell him that last night at Jumadeung gave you the illusion of being on a date, or how months of working in such close proximity are finally starting to catch up on you.

You can feel his gaze on you, but you dare not look up. What if you do and end up blurting out nonsense? Embarrassing yourself and changing the dynamics between you for good?

“I’m nervous, too,” he confesses, and that’s when you find it within yourself to peer at him. “I’ve been working with a crazy talented artist and it’s been making me feel like I should be doing more.”

“A crazy talented ar- me?” you frown. By all means, you’re good at this game, but you know there’s better performers than you out there.

“Have you heard about me collabing with someone else?”

His smile takes your breath away for a moment. You want to think he’s trying to flirt with you, but you really shouldn’t be throwing gasoline onto the fire of your crush. Everything was going so smoothly… Fucking comeback, you think.

“I’ve been a fan since day one, just saying,” he shrugs, sipping on his chamomile tea.

“You…” You gasp at how unexpected this is, and then you’re laughing. You must look like a lunatic, messy hair and loose pajama, trying to keep your cool after confessing to having a fuck buddy to one of the most wanted people in the country. Part of you can’t wait to tell Bit-na about that, and another part of you really doesn’t want to hear what she’d have to say in response.

“Fuck, you really are stressed out of your mind…” He’s amused, it’s clear both in his voice and on his face.

He brings your mug to your lips, leaning across the table towards you, and he steals your breath for the second time tonight. He helps you drink, and it calms you down. Only on the outside, though, you think. You can still feel your heart inside your chest when he stands up to wash the mugs and the glass he used to drink his soju, and your thumb absentmindedly brushes over your tattooed butterfly.

“Don’t let this life stress you out so much,” he murmurs from behind you, leaning over you to speak against your cheek before he kisses it. “If you need a hand with it, you have my number. We’re partners now, after all.”

What’s he suggesting? You torment yourself with that question for what feels like forever before you make up your mind.

Ryung-gu comes over when Joong-gil leaves. You called the wrong number – on purpose, of course. There are some things you can’t talk about with ‘your partner’, but you’ve always been an open book for Lim Ryung-gu.

It’s nothing regular, the thing you two have, but this is the first time in months that one of you calls the other for stress relief. It’s not bad by any means, it just… feels different, in a way. Like your brain is still stuck on a loop of last night at Jumadeung, when you were staring at yourself in the mirror of that fairyland-like restroom, wearing Park Joong-gil’s soft hoodie over your golden top, standing under winking fairy lights.

You see the kitchen table from where you’re half sitting, half reclining on the couch in the living room, with Ryung-gu kneeling between your legs. You can still picture Joong-gil’s back, the gray cardigan he wore after the interviews were over, his perfectly styled hair, straight out of a magazine cover like some sort of walking dream.

A particular brush of Ryung-gu’s fingers inside you makes your toes curl and your back arch, your head falling back against the pillows as your hands tug on his hair. His groan against your pussy makes you tingle all over, and when his lips latch onto your clit you know you’re done for.

“Fuck, just like that,” you manage to whisper, breathing hard, pulling him closer to you by the back of his head.

You can hear how wet you are by the squelching sound his fingers moving in and out of you make. It makes your head spin – and your heart ache as well, maybe, because part of you feels like you’ll never have anything real, not in this department and not in this line of work where you feel controlled twenty-four seven.

But with Ryung-gu it’s easy to pretend: he eats you out like he does that for a living, and in the spur of the moment, with the air scorching in your lungs, you think the world deserves to know his fingers aren’t only great at playing the piano.

Then he curls his fingers, gets to work on that one patch of sensitive skin deep inside you, and you come with a low moan that comes up from deep within you and seems to go on forever as his tongue keeps on lapping up at your juices.

He gives your clit one last suck and that makes you whine, your thighs quiver in overstimulation as you tug on his hair to get him off of you. Then, he’s using your discarded panties to clean you and his hand up.

You come down from your high cuddled up into his side, your head on his shoulder, and the way his fingers trace patterns on your back, through your t-shirt, calms your raging heartbeat and roots you to the present moment.

“I think we should stop doing this,” he whispers against the side of your head, lips brushing against your hair when he speaks.

Your only reply is a hum. It’s not like you’ve been thinking about that, too, but it’s true that in the last few months you’ve come to secretly wish for something more. A deeper connection. Doing this with someone you have actual feelings for – someone that hopefully also has feelings for you, too. Ryung-gu brought everything else to the table – he’s understanding, fun, blurts random bits of knowledge in the middle of the night when you’re lying in bed covered in sweat – but not that one part of the picture.

“I met someone, and I also feel like you’ve been slowly drifting away,” he continues, his voice soft. You can hear his heart beat inside his chest, underneath your cheek, and you move your hand up to brush your thumb over his sternum. “Is it Joong-gil?”

He’s smirking in amusement when you move your head to meet his gaze quicker than the speed of light just to moan the split second later because your neck is sore and all that haste didn’t sit well with it. But there’s no lying to him – you’ve been friends since you left Busan together, so if anything, after Bit-na, he’s the one person you trust the most when it comes to actually opening up.

“I don’t know what’s up with me,” you confess eventually. It’s then, as you wish for any kind of distraction to bless you, that you notice he’s cut his hair and got rid of his toned hair tips. He must have met with his stylist today, you reason distractedly, because yesterday his hair was longer, sporting a look you’ve come to love on him. “Yesterday at Jumadeung… which, by the way,” you deadpan, pushing yourself up onto your elbow. “Wow, that’s so very loyal of you, bestie. Thank you for telling me about that place.”

He snorts. “As if,” he chuckles, pushing your bangs away from your face. He likes this new look on you, and he’s probably the main reason why you’ve let yourself enjoy it, too. “It was my first time there as well. Ryeon wanted to go out yesterday afternoon and she brought us there. Joon-woong knew about it, though, so if you really wanna be mad at someone… be mad at the golden retriever.”

“But he’s so cute,” you playfully pout, making the same face you would if you saw a cute puppy. “He has my approval for anything he wants to do or say.”

He snorts again, trying not to laugh, but eventually failing. “Don’t derail the conversation,” he scolds, playfully smacking your bare thigh. “Was last night a date?”

You shake your head no, but you feel your face grow hotter at the mere idea of it being one. You really don’t know how it happened, and you tell him as much. “I don’t think so. There’s never been anything more than just work. And when I went to bed last night I thought it was just because I was still all over the place after the show and how cozy it was at Jumadeung. But then I woke up at noon today and I was still thinking about him…” you huff, lying back down next to him, and wrap an arm around his waist.

“Do you like him?”

“Who doesn’t?” you scoff, and then hide your face in his chest because fuck. What’s with your hormones and this crush? You stay quiet for a while, enjoying the silence of the night and his fingers still lightly tickling your back from above your blue pajama shirt. “I don’t know what to do, Ryung-gu. Like…” You rub your face with both hands when you can’t keep in the groan. “What if this crush or whatever gets out of hand and ruins everything?”

“With the collab, you mean? Or your… situationship?”

You hum. “Like, he’s always been incredibly attractive, both inside and out, but so are you and a lot of other people I’ve met…”

“Wow, thanks, I guess,” he laughs, only to be met by a flick of your fingers against his forehead.

“You know you’re hot. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen what people comment under your posts on Insta.”

“Oh, I know i’m sex on legs,” he jokes, looking at you like he’s all high and mighty before cracking into an amused grin. “It just hits different when it comes from that mouth of yours.”

You flick him again, this time on his chest, before you’re pushing yourself up again to look down at him. “I just don’t know what to do, and… ugh!” You bite your tongue, and needing a way out of this conversation, you ask, “what about your person, though?” You smirk, wiggling your eyebrows and making him laugh. “Who is it? Do I know them? Is it another singer? A backup dancer? Model? Min-ji from back home?”

He silences you with a hand on your mouth, but it just makes you giggle, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of how he’s looming over you on the couch, and your pussy is still out and wet, and God this feels so wrong. You would’ve never called him had you known he’s met someone. Thinking about him going down on you when he’s considering the idea of pursuing an actual person makes you feel worse than spilling the beans to Joong-gil did, and dirtier than the railing you grabbed yesterday in that building was.

“What, so you can snitch to the tabloids?” he asks, but he’s smiling, so you know there’s no bite behind his words.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out all of a sudden. “For calling you over. You ate me out despite all that and…” He lets you sit up and moves to sit next to you on the couch. “God, I feel like such a bitch,” you groan from behind your hands. They’ve quickly become the wall you hide behind.

“Hey, it’s fine.” Ryung-gu pulls you into his side and leaves a kiss on the crown of your head. “You’re my friend, I would’ve never left you alone in a time of need when I have nothing really going on yet. You would’ve done the same, I’m sure. Unless…”

“Unless?” You don’t dare look up at him, even though you can hear the smile in his voice. He still feels like the same Lim Ryung-gu he’s always been, but then also like you’re miles apart for the first time in forever – or probably ever.

“Unless that Park dude really has a hold on your pussy.”

He doesn’t stop cackling when, indignant, you hit him with a pillow.

“Shut up,” you groan. “I’ve been a mess since last night’s stage, let me be.”

He wipes your pout away with a thumb before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Just saying… I’m sure it’s hard to stay stoic when he has those hip rolls in your choreo.”

Your face is scorching hot. Ryung-gu is right, Joong-gil has some sexy moves, but so does he in his own solo numbers. They’ve always been one of his distinctive traits and while yes, you’ve always swooned a little every time, you’ve also always been able to stay professional when he danced them with you.

“You know, I actually think this is a great opportunity for the both of us,” Ryung-gu says after a while, when you’re putting on a fresh pair of panties. You snatch your pajama shorts from his hand when he hands them to you, and join him in the kitchen for the leftover pizza he brought over from his apartment. “We both get to find out what we really like with a partner,” he explains when you simply frown in confusion at him.

“Maybe you will. I’ll be trying not to think too much about it. He’s there,” you gesture with your hand held up high above your head, “and I’m here,” you continue, placing your other hand much lower.

“In my book you’re here,” he corrects, raising the hand you used to show him where you stand, “and he’s here.” He lowers the other one. “You’re great. What are you even implying here?”

“Yeah, a crazy talented artist,” you groan, quoting back Joong-gil’s words to your friend with a roll of your eyes. You don’t even know why it stings so much to be just that to him. Well, of course, you do know why, but you don’t want to linger there.

“I was thinking more about a crazy awesome person.” Ryung-gu boops your nose before adding, “but yeah, whatever floats your boat. Just don’t put him on a pedestal. You both have the same job and are equally as talented. Don’t start treating him like a god on Earth, leave that to his fans. Because if anything, he’s lucky to be doing this with you.”

*

Despite everything, you’ve managed to keep it as professional as possible with Joong-gil thus far. Everything always runs smoothly – interviews, photoshoots, promotional shoots, even performances or radio appearances with your usual banter and jokes, even if shipping comments follow you every step of the way. What’s worse is that when you come off stage, high on adrenaline, one simple look from him is somehow enough to make your panties wet.

You’re really not proud to admit it, and after every show, it’s becoming harder and harder to conceal the effect he has on you. Giving him the wrong impression is the last thing you want to do, and at the same time it’s hard to figure out what’s going on in his mind, behind those dark eyes of his.

Tonight’s not any different, you notice when you’re pushed into your van right behind him after the opening concert to the Japanese leg of your joint tour.

There’s the adrenaline again – all the post-performance feelings, the fact that you managed to sell this venue out in less than three minutes twice when the tour dates were first announced. You’re wired beyond belief, every fiber of your being buzzing underneath your skin, your heart leaping in your chest like that’s some Olympic sport. It’s been a while since the sensations were this intense, so much so that it’s overwhelming and you end up planting a celebratory wet kiss on Joong-gil’s lips without even realizing you’re doing it.

Your brain only catches up with it while you’re standing under the warm jet of the shower, a ballad humming through your phone’s speakers in the background. It should be a quick freshening up, because you know Joong-gil will take a quick shower as well before starting his post-concert VLive stream while he waits for you, but you can’t help but freeze, the loofa stopping on your chest and the trembling fingers of your right hand coming up to your lips.

You still feel his lips against yours, and hear the harsh breath he took and which you never really registered in the moment, buzzing as you were with excitement, the goosebumps tugging at your sweaty skin.

“Fucking fuck,” you mutter under your breath, mouth agape for a moment before you shut it and turn the waterstream off.

Thinking about it will do you more harm than good, you know that, but your heartbeat is every-fucking-where now when you think back to the way he grabbed a hold of your biceps to keep your balance and prevent you from falling fully onto him.

Maybe you can play it off tomorrow morning, pretend like you passed out right after your shower and say you’re deeply sorry for missing out on the quick post-concert catch-up with your fans. You’re about to text Bit-na about your misstep in the van and how fucked up it got you, to the point you almost touched yourself in the shower, when the notification of Joong-gil going live pops up on the screen of your phone.

You stand there for a full minute, naked, dripping water onto the tile floor of your hotel room’s bathroom. There’s no resisting the curiosity, those brain chemicals going hysterical, and your finger taps on the notification before you can stop yourself.

He’s sitting on the couch in his hotel room, pretty much a twin of yours. Tokyo’s lights at night are blinking behind him and while that’s definitely a view, he seems to be an even better one now. White loose t-shirt, wet hair still slightly dripping droplets of water onto his shoulders, bare-faced but still incredibly charming in the way he talks, answers comments, says Y/N will join us shortly before drinking from his water bottle. It all makes you want to kiss him again, but this time on purpose while being fully present in the moment.

“Fuck.”

You’re cooked.

You’ve got it real bad – you facepalm yourself as you close the app, lock your phone, and quickly get dressed into something you can lounge in while still looking presentable. You really do not want to look bad next to him.

It’s now or never, you tell yourself when you force yourself out into the corridor.

Joong-gil’s door is right opposite yours and as you walk the few steps that separate yours from it, you quickly glance out of the window at the end of the hallway. By the looks of it, it’s going to rain tonight.

The livestream goes by quickly: Joong-gil is more entertaining than you thought he’d be, but this time he does a great job at keeping the conversation with the fans flowing despite the fact that you’re, well, beat. You should have known that the moment you’d finally sit down, slumber would start creeping up on you. And, well, he’s better at Japanese than you are – that’s something that should be mentioned.

Nevertheless, you still step in with puns and funny anecdotes about tonight’s show or the time you and Joong-gil have spent working together. In the live chat, someone even swoons about your coordinated outfits on stage, and that’s just another opportunity to flaunt the amazing stylists you have this time around – an excuse not to think about the way you do know you look like when you’re together. Like you’re a match made in fucking heaven, but that could also be your crush speaking on your behalf.

When the stream is finally off and you get the thumbs up of approval from both your managers, you let yourself fall back against the couch with a sigh.

“Tired?” Joong-gil asks, moving around to plug his phone in. He puts it down on the nightstand and grabs a bottle of water from the minifridge for you.

“Exhausted,” you groan, pulling your legs up and resting your head on your knees.

It’s easier to look at him now without thinking about that rather chaste kiss you gave him and the ways he moved on stage earlier on in the night. You don’t feel like you might catch fire with just a look from him, but when he sits back down next to you, some of that anxious tension comes back.

“I’m really enjoying this,” he smiles. When he leans his head back and fully relaxes, however, you notice how tired he looks, too. His eyelids are heavy and all his weight is leaning against the couch like he’s a bag of potatoes.

You hum and nod, taking a long sip from the water bottle he handed you while thinking about Bit-na. During the two weeks between the first stage performance and Jumadeung and tonight’s show, you’ve told her about this whatever-it-is that you started feeling for Joong-gil. Nothing too detail-heavy, but there’s no way in hell you could have survived without her opinion on the matter. You wish she were here now, a tiny celestial being perched on your shoulder, ready to give you counsel.

“I’m enjoying this collab a lot, too,” you say, leaning back and turning your head to the side to look at him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s fallen asleep.

But he softly giggles, amused, and you know he’s still awake. “I mean… Yeah, the collab as well. But I was thinking more about… you. The time we’ve been spending together.”

You bite your tongue, a way to prevent the wrong things from leaving your mouth, but also to stop that smile from stretching on your lips.

“What was that kiss about?” he asks without giving you the time to even think. “Back in the van.”

The expression on your face must be the epitome of regret because he looks taken aback in a way you’ve never seen him. The truth is, you have no clue what to tell him. You don’t want to make things weird, but you also fucking do want to kiss those plump lips of his again.

“I… The excitement always gets to my head, I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” you murmur eventually, finding it difficult to meet his gaze.

“So, do you kiss a lot of people like that?”

“Fuck, no!” It’s the nerves acting on your behalf that make you chuckle and all you can do to try and stop the tremor in your hands is close your eyes and deepen your breaths. “No, I… That was a first, even for me.”

His hum is questioning, and you feel his weight on the couch shift. It’s only when his fingertips touch your lips that you will yourself to open your eyes.

He’s incredibly close, just like that day during the photoshoot and many other photoshoots before that. You can smell the faint minty aftertaste of his toothpaste when he says, “should we make it a tradition?”

It’s like you’re hypnotized, and you’d like to blame your deafening heartbeat for the fact that you can’t stop that meak yeah from tumbling past your lips. He clouds your senses, and you’re suddenly glad that your rooms are so up high because that means no paparazzi will be able to snap a picture and you can finally feel safe enough to-

His lips touch yours. Soft, smooth, and you wonder why the fuck they feel so hot against yours. The kiss cuts your breath short, makes the butterflies in your stomach rouse again, and then some other warm and wet feeling starts rearing its head. He’s staring at you and you can’t help but stare back. Your brain leaves on a tangent and it’s soon wondering how quickly an ambulance will be able to come in case you dramatically go into cardiac arrest, even though neither of you is deepening the kiss. It’s chaste, just his lips pressing against yours as his hand cradles the side of your face.

Is it you being dramatic if you say you want to stay here forever?

When he eventually pulls back, he lets his tongue come out for a split second to brush against your lower lip and that’s when your body decides to betray you, to break your composure to let a shaky breath out.

His eyes fall down to your lips and you’re helpless as you stare at the way that grin of his plasters on his face.

He’s so fucking- ugh!

You feel like you could punch the sky with the way Park Joong-gil makes you feel. You decide then and there that it’s senseless to sit there and ponder how the fuck that bubble of feelings decided to pop only now – well, at Jumadeung – because now you’re stuck with the defeaning certainty that you’re down really bad for him.

“I love new traditions,” he grins, leaning back against the couch without breaking eye contact.

Head empty. There’s not one single thought in there that’s not Park Joong-gil. If Ryeon never said anything about him just so that she could keep him all for herself, well… You can’t really blame her. He’s charming. He pulls you to him like he’s a magnet. And it doesn’t even matter that you don’t even know where you stand anymore with him because your brain starts working a mile a minute until suddenly it’s picturing him between-

No.

No, you can’t go there.

He speaks before you have the chance to. “I think I wanna repeat it after tomorrow’s show if that’s alright with you. But we should probably go to bed now.”

You don’t resist him when he says he’ll accompany you to your door despite the fact that it’s literally less than ten meters from the couch you’ve been sitting on for the best part of the past two hours. If you can have thirty more seconds alone with him, then who the hell are you to say no?

But sleep doesn’t come easily – not with the feeling of his lips against yours, and not with the promise that you’re going to have another fix of that tomorrow night. You’re ready to bet you’ve never ever wanted a whole day to go by at the speed of light the way you desperately need it to now.

You feel guilty as hell when you let your hand slip past the elastic band of your panties to toy with the wetness between your folds. But that’s your best bet at trying to force slumber to come back, and you eventually fall asleep with Joong-gil’s name on your lips.

*

It’s silly, the way your heart somersaults inside your chest every time Park Joong-gil honors the silly tradition you accidentally started during your first night in Tokyo.

He kisses you after your second concert in the Japanese capital.

He kisses you after the concert in Nagoya.

In Osaka, you kiss before and after you hop onto the stage.

And every time, that celebratory kiss deepens a little more. By the time you land in Los Angeles to embark on your seven US American dates, you’re not thinking I should be keeping this professional between the two of us anymore, but instead I need more of him.

You’re on a video call with Bit-na after the concert in the SoFi stadium – between the crazy demanding show you put on and the jetlag, both you and Joong-gil are way too beat for a livestream.

“How’s your predicament going?” she asks as she continues doing her make-up.

“It’s hard,” you groan, falling back onto the hard mattress and shuffling around until you’re all cocooned into the blankets, only the top half of your head peeking out from the fluffy material.

“You mean his dick is?” She’s bold, always has been, and you’re glad you opted to put your earbuds in. The last thing you need is a late night visit from Park Joong-gil in which he hears your friend talk about this kind of shit again, with the only difference that this time it’s not Ryung-gu she’s talking about.

“That… too, yeah.” The temperature of your face could rival that of the sun. All you can do is fully hide your head underneath the blankets and hope your body will cool down quickly, but it feels like an impossible task when you can still feel his erection pressed against you when you kissed in the powder room after the concert.

Bit-na’s laughter is loud and hysterical. It deafens you for a moment but you figure that’s a good thing: it prevents you from replaying in your head the way you moaned into the kiss when you did your best not to roll your hips into his. “Did you really give him a boner?!”

“I’m sure it was just the excitement after the concert,” you mumble, finally re-emerging from your hiding place.

She clicks her tongue. “And I am sure it was aaaaall you,” she chuckles, putting her lipstick back down and picking up her mascara. “Sucking face with someone sure can lead to that.”

“We were not sucking faces.”

“Who do you think you’re fooling? I can see how swollen your lips are from all the way across the Pacific.”

You groan, covering your face with one hand. “I knew I should’ve called Ryung-gu.”

“He’d tell you to just sleep with him already.”

“Oh, shut up. It was different with him. Things just happened and it was his idea,” you remind her. “But now that he’s trying this relationship thing with this new person, it made me realize I want the same. I don’t want to just fuck. I want the whole experience. What if Joong-gil’s not into me like that?”

“The dude made up a making-out tradition just because you kissed him by accident once. I think the chances that he did it because he’s into you are higher than those of him just wanting to make out with someone.” She shrugs her shoulders and disappears for a moment to get dressed. “Stop holding back, Y/N. Just let things happen without trying to stop them.”

*

And ‘let them happen’ is exactly what you do.

One week after your call with Bit-na, you find yourself kissing Joong-gil in your hotel room in Atlanta, after an English post-concert livestream for your international fans.

It started off innocently enough, with the both of you sitting on the floor, your backs to the foot of your bed and your phone propped up on the coffee table you decided to use as a stand. Then it got less innocent soon after you turned the stream off, when his hand slipped underneath your t-shirt and dragged up your spine, pulling gooseflesh wherever he touched.

That’s how you find yourself being dragged into his lap now, how you find yourself now almost kissing down his throat.

His kisses are something else entirely, and the way his tongue brushes against yours makes you moan into his mouth. They’re intoxicating, his touches on you – the way he cradles your head in both hands, keeping you as close as possible without letting you go for a single second, or the way he suckles on your lower lip when he pulls back just enough to allow the both of you to catch your breath.

“It’s hard,” he says, his eyes roaming your face before being inevitably drawn back to your parted lips.

You have no clue where you find the strength or even the presence of mind to keep your lower half elevated just enough to avoid sitting down on him.

“What is?” you whisper back, suddenly being brought back to what you talked about with your best friend – you said it was hard, and she brought up the erection you had felt in Joong-gil’s pants while kissing. There’s no telling what would happen if you allowed yourself the time necessary to think about that now, or to even sit down comfortably in his lap and feel it, if that’s tonight’s case as well.

“Holding back.” His lips brush against the line of your jaw when he replies, his hands sliding down your sides and over your ass.

He is hard – that’s the first thing you can think about when he pulls you down flush against him. Your breath is caught in your throat when the tip of his nose brushes just right under your ear.

“Acting like I don’t want to fucking worship you.” His voice is deep, probably deeper than you’ve ever heard it in the time you’ve worked together but also before that, even though it’s hard to even think straight right now. “God, I’ve been thinking about you for weeks now.”

It’s like you’re not in control of your body: you hear yourself whimper, and then your hips roll down against his of their own accord.

Just let things happen, you hear Bit-na say again.

Joong-gil’s head falls back against the mattress and he gazes up at you from underneath. It does something to your brain, the sight of him underneath you, his eyelids heavy and his lips kiss-swollen. Because of you, you feel the need to remind yourself. He is like this because of you.

Fuck, it really does mess with your brain. Like thunder strikes and incinerates your ability to keep a grip on yourself.

And then he’s gripping your buttcheeks in both hands and moving you against him. His breathing is heavy, but so is yours. You can feel how hard he is against you even through your layer of clothings – in the spur of the moment you wish neither of you was wearing any. Every last one of your synapses is alight and all you can do is lean down into his lips again for another kiss.

Who would fall for the whole ‘new celebratory kiss tradition’ if anyone were to catch the two of you right now? Maybe Bit-na was right; maybe Joong-gil really did start this because he sees something in you that you yourself don’t see. As he kisses you back, pushes his tongue past your teeth to brush against yours, you find yourself hoping for your friend to really be right.

The buzzing of his phone by his head, on your bed, goes unnoticed when he starts bucking his hips up into yours. He swallows your whimpers, and when he moans in return, you’re suddenly aware of the pleasure starting to coil tighter deep in your stomach.

If he manages to make you come by simply dry-humping you, you can consider that a first.

But then someone knocks on your door, and the quick rapping on the wood breaks the spell. You find yourself looking into his open eyes and realize one of his hands has moved to the back of your head during the heat of your make-out session, the other one is under your t-shirt in the middle of your back.

“Alright, bedtime! We’re catching a flight at seven tomorrow!” You recognize Yun-ho’s voice, but it takes your brain two more seconds to finally give a meaning to the words you’ve just heard.

You jump back up on your feet before you can stop yourself, but Joong-gil doesn’t move immediately. He keeps his eyes trained on you, on the way you’re almost panting, trying to avoid looking down at his groin, and he doesn’t know how hard you’re throbbing right now or how drenched your panties feel even if you’re this close to telling him.

God, if anyone finds out while you’re overseas, you’re fucked. Both of you are.

“See you tomorrow?” he asks when he eventually stands up, movements all fluid when he does – a stark contrast to yours, to how sharp-cornered you felt when you jumped up from his lap and to how sharp-cornered you still do feel when you pick up your phone from the coffee table, unable to meet his eye and knowing that if you do, there’ll be no sleep for you tonight.

You nod and hum in response, but it’s apparently not enough for him. He steps forward, closes the distance between the two of you, and grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He’s done that already once in the past, but right now you’re barely able to remember your own name. This motherfucker really does have that effect on you – brain and body alike.

“I asked, see you tomorrow?” he repeats, but all you can focus on is the way his lips move when you speak.

Part of your brain wants to bite back a of course, where the hell else would i be?, but another part of it is simply paralized. You wouldn’t be surprised to find out it’s decided to make your body take the reins, for once.

He plants a chaste kiss to your lips when your reply is a simple, breathless yes. It’s like the kiss you accidentally gave him after your first concert in Tokyo, but this time it makes you tingle all over.

Would it really be so wrong to tell him now how fucking wet he’s made you?

*

To your displeasure, however, things don’t go further than that for the rest of your American stay, or even during the one concert you have in Toronto, although Joong-gil somehow ended up hearing you push yourself over the edge in the shower in Boston and fingering you in your dressing room in Chicago before your performance. (Which, by the way, sort of made it hard to fully focus once you were on stage, but whatever.)

Your days simply get busier, what with the concerts and the extra American interviews both of your agencies agreed upon at the last minute. Some of them were chill, but most had those sneaky so are you two dating? kind of questions hidden among much better ones. Joong-gil did a great job at deflecting them, but deep down all you can say is that they made you want to scream. You’re definitely not dating but fuck, if he doesn’t give you those fingers of his one more time I swear to God I’ll go insane!

“What are you thinking about?” Joong-gil asks, looking up from the magazine he’s been reading (there’s a double-page picture of the two of you on the pages he has open right now, one of those you posed for during your last photoshoot in Korea) and turns to glance at you.

You don’t think that ‘your fingers in my pussy’ is an appropriate enough reply, so you babble the next best thing that pops up in your mind when you look out of the plane window to your right. “Can’t wait to have a few days off before our concerts back home.”

Maybe if you focus hard enough on the fluffy clouds outside, you’ll stop overthinking about the implications of everything the two of you have started doing together. Like spending time in either of your hotel rooms after livestreams to simply relax. Or like kissing before and after concerts. Or the way he moaned straight into your mouth when you were making out in your room in Atlanta.

Fuck, that sound has been stalking you even in your dreams ever since.

“What’s your plan for that?” He turns slightly towards you to give you his undivided attention and you don’t know why, really, but that small gesture makes you sort of warm and fuzzy inside.

Your gaze swipes past him to the next row in first class and then over the few seats you can see from yours, but no one’s paying attention to anything but their own business. “I’m going back home, gonna spend a few days with my mother. It’s been almost a year since I last saw her in person,” you reply. And then, before you can even ponder your words or even just realize what trajectory your brain’s following, you find yourself proposing, “you’re invited, if you’d like. If you have nothing else to do.”

He looks surprised for a moment, and you want to slap yourself on the mouth for being so stupid. You’re aware your proposal might have come off as a ‘we’ve been doing things together, so it’s time to meet the parents’, but he’s smiling before you’re done biting your tongue. “Sure, why not? I’ll book a hotel room as soon as we land.”

There’s a surge of courage bubbling up from within you, something you’ve never really had around him because at first you were too excited to even be offered a collaboration deal with the Park Joong-gil, then you were trying to always be professional, and then you were a bit too busy trying not to think about the way he makes you feel.

So, you end up saying, “you could… stay with us. My mother hasn’t had guests over in ages and I’m sure she’d love the company.”

Am I being too straightforward? Is it too early? Is this something like what Ryung-gu and I used to do, or is he really into me?

That’s how you end up brushing your teeth next to Joong-gil in your childhood home.

That’s also how you end up trying to convince your mother she won’t be having grand-children or attending your wedding all that soon.

We’re just friends – you say ‘friends’, not ‘colleagues’, and that somehow surprises you. Like that’s something you’ve never even considered – the possibility of you and Park Joong-gil becoming friends, and maybe going out for drinks together a few years down the line and reminiscing about this collab album you’re doing together now.

He doesn’t really look at you like you’re just a friend is her reply, one that haunts you during your concert back home in Busan and during the two you hold in Seoul.

You also end up going down on him in his Seoul penthouse apartment after your tour has been wrapped up, and that’s when your mother’s insinuation comes back. It confuses you, this thing you have with Joong-gil, but you barely have the time to think because he’s keeping you close to his pelvis with a hand on the back of your head, and all you can do is swallow around him.

The moan he lets out when he feels your throat constrict around his dick is loud and it goes straight to your core. It makes you moan in return and that’s when he warns you he’s close and pulls you off.

“Come in my mouth,” you plead, breathless – almost as breathless as he is. He looks so good staring down at you with hooded eyes, a light flush powdered over his cheeks and the upper part of his torso. Somehow, it makes you want to ruin him.

The sound he lets out is halfway between a moan and a groan, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around his erection. You allow him a couple of strokes before you’re wrapping your lips around him again, and a swipe of your tongue on his frenulum is what pushes him over the edge and right down your throat when you take him all the way into your mouth.

Your hands caress up and down his thighs when he lets himself fall back onto his bed, and as he catches his breath, you pepper light kisses over his hips and abdomen. He looks and sounds so good that you can feel how uncomfortable the wetness in your panties is, but still don’t dare speak up.

“Fuck,” he pants, chuckling when he stretches a hand out for you to take. You intertwine your fingers with his and move to lie down next to him. “Let me see,” he pleads.

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize what he means, but then you show him you’ve swallowed every last drop by opening your mouth and pushing your tongue out.

“That was fucking sexy,” he groans before pulling you over onto him and kissing your breath away, licking into your mouth and making your heart almost give out in your chest.

Your phone rings.

“I gotta go now.”

He’s sitting up on his bed when you speak, after he’s tried – uselessly – to pay back the favor. His eyes follow your every move – the way you pick up your phone (almost a mirrored repetition of what happened in Atlanta), the way you check yourself out in the mirror of his dresser, how you hesitate for a second when you pick up your handbag from the floor.

“My manager’s asking for my whereabouts and I can’t exactly tell her what we’ve been doing here,” you chuckle, looking back at him just to find him two steps away, standing only in his boxers behind you.

He hums his agreement, but then surprises you by grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into his chest. Resisting the urge to wrap your arms around his neck or to press a kiss onto his skin takes everything you’ve got.

“I want to keep seeing you,” he confesses matter-of-factly, looking straight into your eyes. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips before he leans his head forward to peck your cheek. “I want to keep seeing you after this collab is wrapped up,” he repeats, this time whispering in your ear and making the baby hairs at the back of your neck stand up in gooseflesh.

“You do?” Somehow, you’re breathless. You barely even register it, with how wildly your heart is pounding in your chest and in your throat and – bonjour, finesse! – between your legs.

“Yep,” he chuckles. He pulls your pelvis right into his, and you feel how he’s getting hard again. If you don’t leave his house soon, you know you’ll be in trouble with your team, but at the moment you can barely even remember all the rules you have to follow. “I want to keep seeing you.” It’s the third time he says it, and you’re starting to believe his words. “I want to get to know all of you. I want to see what you look like naked, too.”

You can’t stop the giggle.

“I think it’s unfair you got to see me,” he whispers, rolling his hips into you, “and I couldn’t even take your panties off in that changing room. And then,” he continues, kissing down the side of your neck like you have all the time in the world, “I want to know how you feel around me. Wanna be so deep inside you that all you can remember is my name. Because that’s how I felt not even five minutes ago.”

A shiver runs up your whole body, from toes to head, and it pulls a low moan from your lips before you can even swallow it back. The way you’re throbbing makes you feel like you’re definitely going to lose your mind.

Forty-five minutes later you’re lying naked on your bed – after having managed to send your manager back home and after the coldest shower of your life. But Joong-gil is still on loop in your mind: his moans, the way he cradled your face when you knew he wanted to let go and fuck your throat but held back, and then the way he confessed his desire to keep on seeing you outside of work. It works you up like crazy and it’s delusional of you to think you’d ever be able to stop your hands from wandering down your body – your breasts, your belly, and then finally between your legs.

You’re so wet you almost shoot him a text, but then you start burning in embarrassment and the only thing you can think of to distract yourself is to tease your entrance before pushing two fingers in.

This time is different from that one in a hotel shower, when you had to be quick to stop yourself from drowning in your sense of guilt. This time you have all the time in the world, and working yourself up with the memory of Joong-gil in your mouth so fresh in your mind is extremely easy. Your toes curl, and your back arches, and your breathing is labored, scorching hot and loud, although not as loud as the squelching of your juices.

You’re not even aware of the way you’re dripping onto the fresh bedspread, nor can you really control the volume of your moans when you bring back the memory of him fingering you. You’ve never appreciated the soundproof system of your apartment as much as you do now, as you have three fingers massaging that one spot deep inside you while your other hand plays with your breasts.

The pleasure builds up and up, like it doesn’t ever want to stop, and you’re burning and doing your best to keep that moan of Joong-gil’s name trapped inside your chest. But then your hand brushes your clit and you’re coming, your orgasm crashing down on you as though it wants to pull you down under and never let you back up.

It does take you forever to come down from it. You put the ceiling of your bedroom into focus before you actually realize how erratic your heartbeat still is or how the tenderness of your pussy makes your thighs tremble when you trail your hand upward to rest it on your lower belly.

The ring of a notification comes at the same time your brain has the lucidity to think I need another shower.

It takes you a good five minutes to fully get back to your senses and stop thinking about Joong-gil’s lips on you, and at first you think about ignoring your phone. It’s late and you’re tired and overstimulated, and despite having a whole day for yourself tomorrow, you feel like you should take tonight off as well. But then a million and one thoughts start wracking you, and with a groan, you pick up your phone from the nightstand.

To your surprise, you read Joong-gil’s name on the screen and faster than you’d ever thought you would, you find yourself clicking on his text message.

[9:07 PM] Park Joong-gil: was thinking about you. what are you doing?

You feel your face grow hotter and you can’t help but giggle excitedly, slightly kicking your feet in the air before quickly venting to Bit-na. It’s been a while since the last time you felt this childish, but it’s not in a bad way this time, and it feels really good.

Still, you have no clue where you find the courage to text Joong-gil back:

[9:13 PM] you: wishing my fingers were yours

Another squeal rushes past your lips as you lock your phone and throw it at the foot of the bed. God, you feel like you’re sixteen all over again, when you were still crushing on that classmate of yours, Min-ho, who used to be a math genius and a Prince Charming.

Instead of a text reply, however, your phone starts ringing with an incoming call that makes your heart skip a beat inside your chest. Panic flashes past your thoughts for a split second, but then you convince yourself to grab your phone and lie back down while you answer, part of you expecting for it to be Bit-na.

It’s Joong-gil, of course. Bit-na is out on a date and you know it well, but hope is always the last spark to go out.

“So, you were saying…?” You see the smugness in his smirk, but it’s hard to focus when he has one arm bent behind his head as he sits in bed with his back against the headboard. The faint hickey you left on his collarbone is right there, staring right back at you, and you have to press your thighs together because all you can think of is the afternoon you spent making out and then sucking him off.

“You read it right the first time,” you stagger, trying to keep your phone angled in such a way that only your face and neck are visible.

“Are you naked?” He moves closer to the screen for a second before he sits back again. His smirk turns into an actual grin, and the spark in his eyes makes you want to gush out about him to Bit-na for the rest of the fucking month.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“Show me?”

You don’t know where you find it in yourself to counter-attack until you hear yourself speak. “You first.”

You really thought you could have a smart moment, but when he tilts his phone to show you he’s only topless but still wearing a pair of navy blue pajama pants, you realize you’ve simply tricked yourself.

“That’s not fair.”

Your pout only makes him chuckle, but you’re still teasing enough to show yourself only up till the top of your breasts.

“Where’s the rest?”

“You’ll have to come see it in person.” This time you know you have the upper hand. He might be the country’s crush, but you’re still sensual enough to play your game.

He looks genuinely sad when he says, “my schedule is full till the end of the month and I want to spend more than just five minutes with you.”

He’s told you countless times today that he’s seriously interested in getting to know you, but it’s still surprising yet heartwarming to find confirmation of that yet again in his words.

“So you were serious? This afternoon.”

“That I wanna pursue you?” When you nod, he continues, “never been more serious.”

You end up talking about the tour you’ve just wrapped up, about a song he’d love to collab with you on once again, maybe next year, and about how fun it was to work together. When you go to bed that night, after a late night snack and a quick shower, you realize you’ve been on the phone for almost three hours and that you’ve never felt this comfortable with him ever.

Park Joong-gil is the last thought on your mind when you eventually fall asleep.

*

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. However, you find yourself realizing how slowly the seconds can tick by and it’s a never-ending surprise to find out how much pent-up frustration your body can bottle up while you wait until the end of the month for your date. You still don’t have the details; you don’t even have a date, Joong-gil hasn’t set it yet, but that’s still your one and only thought.

Lim Ryung-gu reads you much better than Bit-na ever could, what with the distance or the fact that while you finally have more free time now that your comeback is behind your back, your best friend’s work life has slowly turned into a nightmare, preventing you from video calling. And, truly, maybe that’s a blessing in disguise because you hate the fact that Joong-gil is capable of affecting you this much without even trying, but at the same time it’s nice to have something other than work or anxiety making your heartrate pick up.

You’re in the studio with Ryung-gu one chilly afternoon towards the end of September. The RMT guys are going through a chill stretch of time before their end-of-year performance, and while Ryeon and Joon-woong are taking advantage of this time to get some more sleep in, Ryung-gu is still busy producing. You technically shouldn’t be allowed previews of their music, but the four of you are pretty much your agency’s money-makers, so there’s really no one stopping you.

“How’s it going with Park Joong-gil?” Ryung-gu absentmindedly asks, eyes fixed on the music software he’s been playing with all day.

You’ve been keeping him up-to-date with the most important things, unable to take your mind off of Joong-gil. It’s almost as though he’s one of your most recurrent thoughts nowadays; the situation wasn’t this bad even when you were spending all your time together during your tour or during the whole album-creation process.

“It’s… I don’t really know,” you shrug your shoulders, sucking pomegranate juice through the straw. “He’s busy now and I feel like I’m all of a sudden losing my mind for him.”

Ryung-gu clicks around on the screen, switching between pieces of software and tweaking his lyrics around, but then he turns towards you and gives you his full attention. “Too busy to even text?”

You feel how your face starts burning and when you avert your gaze from him, he must take it the wrong way, for he says,

“That’s a lame excuse.”

“No, I mean, we’ve been… texting,” you admit eventually, your exhale quivering at the thought of the kind of texts that have been going back and forth between the two of you on your burner phone.

“Why that pause?” But then, a second later, it must hit him. “Sexting? You’ve been sexting with the Park Joong-gil?” Surprise is as clear as day both in his voice and on his face, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

You hide behind your can of juice, but it’s hard to wipe that wide grin off your lips. Joong-gil’s groggy morning voice last week still affects you to this day when you replay it in your head – can’t wait to have my hands on you is part of what he left in your voicemail before heading out for his day a few hours before you even had the chance to wake up.

“Damn, I didn’t picture him to be the sexting type. He seems… intimidating, sometimes.”

You have to agree with him. Your collab brought along one surprise after the other, and it’s almost hard to believe people are still talking about it weeks after it ended.

“I think I really want to try this thing with him,” you say – to Ryung-gu or to yourself, you really don’t know as you look out the narrow window to your side. You see the top of a tree from there, its branches moving in the wind, and the clouds run by fast in the sunny sky. “I think I want to have with him what you have with your person, but at the same time I’m afraid this is too much too fast.”

Ryung-gu doesn’t say anything for what feels like the longest time, looking out the window, too, lost in thought. Maybe he’s thinking about his person, you assume, and for a moment you wonder how fast things moved between them before they started being an item. You wish he would tell you more about them, but at the same time you appreciate the privacy he allows his relationship.

“I think you should go for it, then,” he says eventually, moving his gaze from the view outside to your face. He’s smiling, and in that split second you realize why nothing’s ever felt rushed between the two of you. He puts you at ease; there’s probably no one else in Seoul you’re this comfortable around. It’s not just because of the sexual sort-of relationship you agreed upon, with its sporadic encounters you’ve had when either or both of you were too stressed to even breathe. It’s him, and his aura, that unperturbed calm that follows him around wherever he goes. “One step at a time. There’s no too fast or too slow. And if it doesn’t work out…” he shrugs, “at least you can say you tried.”

You nod in agreement. “You don’t think he’s into me just for the sex, do you?”

His gaze is stern for just a moment before he starts cackling. “I’ve seen your interviews together,” he replies when his laughter subsides, “and the interviews he’s given on his own. I think he’s genuinely into you as a person, I don’t know why you don’t see that, too.”

*

You decide to believe your friend, even when his question – are you into Joong-gil just for the sex? – starts eating away at the back of your mind with the only purpose of trying to make you doubt everything you know about him. It was a rhetorical question, of course, not Ryung-gu implying you’re into Joong-gil just for his dick or the way he still teases you about that one time you confessed to fingering yourself to the thought of him, but it’s still enough to leave you frustrated.

Some more days pass, and there’s an actual attempt of getting to know the little things about the both of you in-between the teasing texts you send each other. You find out he’s into martial arts and that he actually used to compete at national level, when he was younger. He learns you make origami when you’re sad, after he’s seen the collection you have in your living room on a video call, and that you have this one scar on the back of your left thigh from that one time you slipped on a rock at the beach, when you were eight and your mother on a business trip, and your father had panicked so much that you had had to calm him down.

Eventually, Joong-gil sets the date on his first day off – saturday night. I’m taking you to eat the best food in Seoul, he promised, and there’s no muffling the excitement that grows and grows inside you with each day that passes.

The anticipation is much better than the absence, that’s for sure, and when saturday night comes around, you get ready by doing your make-up and putting on that nice black dress you modeled for during that one fashion campaign last year. It’s a pity that you never got to wear it before, but it’s also exciting to know you’re wearing it for the first time on a date with someone so charming.

Yun-ho rings at your door at six on the dot, and then he leads you down to the underground garage of your condominium. For a moment you worry it’s just going to be you and him in the car, but when he opens the back door of a dark SUV with tinted windows, you find Joong-gil already sitting there on the back seat waiting for you.

You panic when you take in his outfit – light jeans and a maroon turtleneck that make you wonder whether he has given you the details after all and you simply didn’t notice in the excitement of the moment. “Am I overdressed?” you fret, buckling yourself in when his manager starts the car.

“On the contrary.” Joong-gil looks you up and down. He eyes the slit in the long skirt of your dress, the way the jewel shoulder straps twinkle in the light of the streetlamps, and then back down over the swell of your breasts and to the high-heeled sandals you wore. “You’re breathtaking.”

You want to tell him that he is breathtaking with the way he’s staring at you, almost like you hung the stars in the night sky and lit every single light in Seoul yourself. “Well, if anything, I’m not underdressed for wherever we’re going,” you say as a way to calm your nerves – you don’t even remember when the last time you went out on an actual date was.

“Oh, I know the owner,” Joong-gil grins, taking your hand in his and interlacing his fingers with yours. His hand is warm; it reminds you of the things he’s used it on you for – tuck your hair behind your ear but also finger you on a make-up desk. “He’ll have nothing to complain about.”

As it turns out, he is the owner. After a detour to not let you guess exactly where he was taking you, you find yourself stepping out of the car and into the underground garage of his apartment building, and then up the twenty-four floors to his apartment.

It hits you as soon as you step through his door, the fact that the last time you were here things could have gone much further than they actually did. You still feel the way he kissed you when he walked you backward into his apartment and the way his hands roamed your body before you eventually ended up on your knees for him.

Catching yourself red-handed, you force your train of thoughts to take another direction. After swapping your heels for the pair of house slippers Joong-gil gives you, you follow him into the open living area. It’s there, on the dining table, that you see all that food and your jaw drops.

“Where did you get all this?” you gawk, all kinds of delicious aromas tickling your nostrils and making your mouth salivate.

He’s smug when he looks at you before being the gentleman he is and pushing your chair closer to the table once you sit down. “I should’ve mentioned I’m a fairly decent cook,” he grins, moving to sit opposite you.

It’s then that you notice your favorite side dish, the one you told him about at your mother’s house and how you’ve never eaten it again after your father passed away. There’s another one, closer to him, that you suddenly remember praising a couple of times when you were still in the songwriting process of your collab album and used to spend entire nights in the studio.

It touches something inside you, the way he seems to have actually paid attention to your likes and dislikes, even though you just mentioned them or they never felt like they were truly that important. But you’re either good at hiding the pleasant surprise, or he simply doesn’t point it out when you start eating.

It’s quiet at first – you just feel his eyes on you as you bring food to your mouth and enjoy your dinner in silence. It doesn’t last long, however: he really is great at cooking – and not simply ‘fairly decent’ as he said – and compliments after compliments start spilling out of your mouth. This is so tasty, or I remember my grandma used to make it just like this!, or I can’t believe you cooked this yourself. It flusters him, and he’s such an endearing sight. This tall, dark, intimidating man when it comes to the heights of your industry really did go out of his way after a booked-out month just to cook your favorite things.

You could smooch his whole face right here and now.

By the time all the plates have been emptied, you’re full as an egg.

“Was it good?” he asks, a satisfied smirk on his lips, leaning back into his chair, one arm stretched out on the table and the other hooked on the back of his chair. Sitting like that, with that turtleneck fitting him like a glove, he feels like a whole course of desserts.

“It was incredible,” you gush out again, beaming, lightly massaging your stomach with one hand.

It hits you then, that you could play dirty and tease him the way he’s been teasing you all this time. You don’t even know what you’re talking about, just that you’re somehow keeping up with him, when you decide to strike. You remove a slipper under the table and stretch your leg out to play with his ankle.

He jolts slightly, and there’s an automatic “What are you doing?” slipping past his lips that just tugs at yours.

“What do you mean?” You lean forward, and you’ve acted in your fair share of dramas at the beginning of your career to be able to effortlessly pull off the most innocent of expressions. “I’m just playing a little game.”

Your foot trails up his shin and you have to control the impulse to laugh at what you’re doing.

“You’ve been teasing me all this time after that evening… It’s only fair that I have my payback,” you grin.

“Is that why you went braless?”

Your grin widens. So he has noticed, you think. You want to keep just for yourself how gentlemanly he is, however – not pointing it out, and not staring at your chest, either. Not that him being everyone’s heartthrob is surprising, but you keep on noticing the little things now and it’s those little things that make you fall for him a little more each day. How considerate he is. How attentive to the little things he is.

Or even how fucking sexy he looks right now, as he rounds the dining table to come pull you to your feet.

His hands trail up your arms, and you do your best to hold his eye contact despite the fact that you feel yourself melting in front of him into a puddle of hormones.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his hands come up to your shoulders. He plays with the straps of your dress almost as though he’s considering pushing them down your arms, but he doesn’t. What he does, however, is move his hands down your body to grab your hips. “You make staying away so fucking hard.”

It’s like there’s just the two of you – which is technically correct since no one else is in his apartment, but at the same time it’s like there’s nothing outside the walls of his home, just the two of you inside.

There’s a tiny voice at the back of your mind that whimpers at how desperately you want him inside of you, but that’s a story for another time.

“Then don’t.”

You pull in him for a kiss, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to creep up your chest and grab a boob through your dress.

“I still want to play a game, though,” you smirk when you pull back, just in time to see that look of suspicion flash across his gaze.

“I already know I’m going to regret playing along with this.” He lightly pinches one of your nipples before his hands are back on the crystal straps of your dress. When you nod your consent, he pushes them down your shoulders and takes a step back to take in how it reveals your body as it glides to the floor. Your breasts, and your stomach, and your legs. Fuck, no one’s looked at you the way he is right now.

You sure hope no one in the skyscraper opposite his apartment complex will see you through his windows.

“My busy weeks are about to start,” you say, stepping out of your dress and moving closer to him. His hands guide yours to the waistband of his jeans and you don’t hesitate when it comes to unbuttoning and unzipping them.

“What about that?” He’s trying his best to keep his breathing even, but you see how it’s not really working when your hand sneaks into his pants, your palm pressing right against his hardening cock through his underwear.

“I think we should wait,” you whisper against the side of his neck before licking a stripe against his skin. He shudders, and you’re loving your upper hand for once.

“Fuck that.” He removes your hand from his pants and picks you up. He walks up to the couch and sits down with you in his lap, and this time it’s not like in Atlanta. This time he pulls you down flush against him from the get go so that you can feel exactly what you do to him. “Why wait when we’re both here now?” You swallow his groan when you roll your hips against him just once.

“You can touch me,” you murmur, taking both of his hands in yours before guiding them onto your breasts. “And I will touch you,” you reassure him when he shoots you a burning gaze.

You’re pulling his pullover out of the waistband of his jeans when he asks, “but?”

He hisses and then shudders when you graze the skin of his abdomen with your nails. His reaction makes you smirk and the only way to hide your satisfied expression is by leaning in closer to him so that you can mock-bite the skin of his neck. You remember that part of his body to be sensitive from the one time you ended up giving him a blowjob, and he doesn’t disappoint you – he bucks his hips up and pulls your head back so that he can crash his lips into yours.

It’s distracting, the way he kisses you. All-consuming, like he can’t get enough of you and this is the next best thing he’s thought of to be as humanly close as possible to you when he’s still fully dressed. One of his hands trails down your back and slips into the back of your panties before he’s grabbing tight onto your buttcheek and kneading it. You’re pretty sure that if he moved his hand a little more down, those long fingers of his would be able to feel how absolutely drenched you are.

But then you remember what you were trying to say, that stupid little game that suddenly popped up in your mind when you realized how fucking bad you wanted his dick – but with feelings. You pull away, gasping for hair, and when you meet his eye he’s already staring at you with that heated gaze of his. If your panties weren’t soaked before, they sure as hell are now.

“No fucking,” you pant, sliding your right hand up along his chest and brushing your thumb across his nipple. You don’t really know what he feels for you aside from the lust that always drips from his racy texts, but you still want him to crumble for you just as much as you do him. “No sex until I’m free again.”

“When’s that gonna be?” He’s already regretting doing this, but there’s also a curious spark behind the lust in his eyes, and you absolutely love the way he pulls you closer by your ass on his dick, even though the fly of his jeans grazes your inner thighs. “Hm? How long’s that gonna be?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Mid-November, most likely.”

He gapes, speechless, but he still lets you take his turtleneck off. “You’re crazy. You can’t be for real.”

You don’t even hide that amused smirk this time. You simply lean into him fully, chest-to-chest, and press a wet kiss right underneath his jaw. The throbbing in your pussy picks up when you feel the light twitch of his dick in his briefs. “Don’t you think it’s gonna be worth it?”

“I think you’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he flat out whines, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to make you stop teasing him. “Fuck, can’t you feel me twitch?”

You can, and you’re doing your best to ignore that.

“It’s gonna be fun,” you murmur, gently sucking a hickey into his neck – probably against your better judgment, but your tits pressing into his chest and his clothed cock pressing against your core.

“It’s gonna be torture,” he retorts, kissing your shoulder. He’s so gentle that gooseflesh breaks out all over your body, and you’re forced to pull back and rest your forearms on his shoulders to stop yourself from giving in to him.

“You will survive,” you chuckle. “And then you’ll be able to have me however you like.”

“Can I at least eat you out now?”

You peck his lips, and he’s quick at opening his mouth to deepen the kiss for a moment before pulling back. “I don’t know,” you pant. “Can you?”

Unlike Instagram, Tumblr runs on reblogs, so if you’re in the mood, kindly consider leaving a comment and/or sharing this fic with your friends. However, any form of feedback is welcome :)

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[prefixsstars]

“Mizuki, my dear, don’t ever disappear.”

Minori loved Mizuki dearly. For all their flaws and insecurities, no matter what, Minori simply adored them.

But at times like these, Minori couldn’t do anything but worry. Mizuki had currently locked the door to their room and wouldn’t leave.

Minori was sat outside of their door trying to get through to Mizuki. She had been sitting for at least an hour waiting and trying to get the door to open to no avail.

Minori knew that Mizuki struggled with something, she’s just not sure what that something is. She honestly felt like a failure, what girlfriend doesn’t notice that their partner is struggling.

All the different times that Minori had asked Mizuki how they were doing, Mizuki brushing her off saying that everything was alright, came back to her.

Minori could feel tears streaming down her face and quickly wiped them away. She’d have time to wallow in self pity later. What mattered was making sure Mizuki was okay.

She slowly stood up and turned to face the door.

“Mizuki, can I come in?”

Silence

Minori tried again

“Mizuki, I won’t pressure you to tell me what’s wrong, I just want you to tell me if you’re okay.”

Some light shuffling could be heard from behind the door. It opened just a crack so some of the inside could be seen.

Minori hurried inside the room and shut the door behind her. She quickly kneeled down in front of Mizuki.

Mizuki in all honestly felt like shit. Everything was off in every sense. They felt even worse for worrying Minori, that was the last thing Mizuki has ever wanted to do.

They were supposed to go on a date today, specifically to the park, and Mizuki just had to ruin it.

Minori was so much better than them, deserved someone better than them. Someone who doesn’t keep secrets, someone who doesn’t lie to the people around them.

Minori was a bright light meant to give people hope, inspire them, but here she was sitting here with someone like Mizuki.

Mizuki couldn’t help the tears that started streaming dow their face. Everything was too much.

Minori was panicking, she had never seen them so out of it. She wished Mizuki had talked to her sooner, she could’ve helped.

“Mizuki, can I hug you?”. Minori asked, not knowing what kind of state they were in.

Mizuki nodded slowly and that’s all Minori needed. She wrapped her arms around Mizuki and squeezed them tightly. Minori hummed one of More More Jump’s songs until Mizuki calmed down.

After Mizuki’s sniffles had died down Minori pulled away slowly from the hug. Not sure what to do.

“Do you feel any better?”

Mizuki thought for a moment before shaking their head no.

Minori smiled, “That’s alright!! Do you wanna talk about it?”

Mizuki shook their head no again

“That’s alright too, Is there anything you need from me?”

Mizuki nodded, “Could we stay here today, I’m sorry, i know we were supposed to go on a date today but-“

Minori grabbed their hands, “Of course we can!!! We can go on a date another day! We can stay here as long as you want!”

They smiled gratefully, “Thank you.”

Minori nodded, “No, thank you. I’ll be here for you whenever. No matter what.”

Mizuki pulled Minori into another hug, which Minori smiled into.

As long as Mizuki is still here, Minori thinks it’ll be fine.

[cxncri]

love buzz [mello x reader] [chap. 3]

last chapter: chap. 2

author’s note: hello! i hope that you all had a good christmas if you celebrate it, and i hope you’re doing well :)

⋆｡ ﾟ｡♡︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ｡♡︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ﾟ♡︎ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ♡︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

you take slow, sad steps over to mello's desk before sitting down at the desk next to him. he wears a scornful expression, and you honestly don't blame him for it. it's not like you want to work with him either.

"so."

"so," he responds, "how are we gonna do this?"

"i was thinking that we could start by choosing the play, of course, and then break it into pieces so we can study it over the week." he nods, hopefully retaining what you just said.

"okay," he says, uncrossing his arms. "just as long as you don't choose romeo and juliet. that's boring; everyone'll chose it."

you nod, because he's probably right. with luck, mello agrees to choose much ado about nothing, to your satisfaction. it was your favorite due to both the characters and the themes.

"where should we practice the scenes?" he asks. you hadn't even thought about that and you frown upon it being brought up. you suppose that your house is fine, and only for the sake of this project are you letting him come to your house.

"the acting. right. um, my house is fine, i guess. i'll send you the address later."

he gives you a thumbs-up.

"alright, cool. i'm free this weekend, for the most part, and the sooner we start the sooner we can get this shitshow over with."

nice. real nice, mello. it’s great to see that he’s looking forward to this!

"i'm free too-" you don't even finish your sentence before mello cuts you off.

"of course you are."

you sigh at his comments and furrow your brow. jerk. why does he have to be such a pain in the ass about everything?

“what's that supposed to mean?”

mello looks you dead in the eyes. “i’m saying that i’m not surprised you don’t have plans.”

it’s pointless to argue with him. whether it’s a true statement or not, you shake it off and ignore him, continuing your original sentence. "i'm free too, so i'll just text you whenever?"

"sounds good to me, i guess," he says.

you sigh again, for the millionth time in less than five minutes. oh well. it'll all be over soon enough. you just have to get through this project.

"seriously?" she asks, incredulously. "he's terrible! you deserve a medal for putting up with him for so long."

you snort, because she's right. you reach your car and swing open the door, gesturing for her to get in. she grins, getting in the passenger seat, because it was your way of silently offering to drive her home.

on the way to her house, you guys sing whatever chart-topping song is on the radio as you laugh, messing up half of the lyrics. there are tears from laughing so hard in your eyes when you drop her off, waving goodbye.

“thanks for the ride!” she says as she waves back.

“anytime,” you call back, leaning out of the window. “see you tomorrow!”

you get home, choosing to start working on the project immediately. you make a list of all the scenes you think would work, and you take a picture of it and send it to mello.

16:48

you: i made a list of all the scenes that we could do for the project. let me know if you want to add any.

16:53

mello: cool. i’ll finish reading the script and let you know. thanks.

you like his message and sit there, thinking. he’s nicer over text, you muse. huh. he even said thanks.

the tea goes off, signaling that it was time to study for that stupid chemistry test. you sigh, but this time you’re pretty sure you know what you’re doing. after all, it’ll all be worth it when you graduate as valedictorian and get into your top-choice college next year. you repeat this to yourself as you drown yourself in work and it becomes a looping mantra in your head, it’ll all be worth it.

⋆｡ ﾟ｡♡︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ｡♡︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ﾟ♡︎ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ♡︎⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

if you would like to be added to my taglist for this series, please feel free to dm me about it!!

taglist: @mo-3-bius

[thenanbakacorner]

Could you do a jyugo x reader where she gets really hurt and almost dies but she survives and just a bunch a fluff. I just love your writing.

Oh boi, time for more drama followed by fluff (;චᆽච*) Les do dis

CW // Depictions of blood and violence

* * *

🔓 Couldn’t lose you.. - Jyugo x F!Reader who Almost Dies Scenario 🔓

Today was supposed to be fun.

You, Jyugo and the others were playing in the game room just a few minutes ago— it was just a normal day! How did it come to this; a cracked skull thanks to being punched to the ground by a furious inmate?

You were unconscious the second you hit the floor, bleeding rapidly and guards were on the aggressor in a heartbeat, wrestling him to the floor and cuffing him before calling for backup on the medical emergency.

Jyugo was at your side seconds later, shaking you by the shoulders trying to wake you up in a desperate manner, your name on his tongue as he cried out.

“(Y/N)!! Are you okay?! Wake up, wake up now!! (Y/N)!!”

Uno and Rock had to pull him off of you before he accidentally made the situation worse, but he didn’t let them do it without struggle. He was panicking. The sight of you unconscious on the ground with a pool of blood under your head had him freaking the fuck out.

He had to do something, he had to help you!!

More guards arrived shortly thereafter with medical staff, clearing out the room and ordering inmates back to their cells so they could deal with the situation at hand.

Despite Jyugo’s pleas to stay, to help you, it was strictly denied, and he and his friends inevitably were sent back to their cell.

No sooner they were locked in, and the guards who escorted them left, he was making a b-line for the door again.

“Jyugo, no!” Uno exclaimed, running up and grabbing his friend by the arm.

“Let me go!” Jyugo cried out, “I have to help her!!”

“Calm down, man!!” Rock barked, approaching to grab Jyugo by the shoulders and turning him to make their gazes meet. “You can’t go, you’ll just get sent right back! Besides, you’ll just get in the way!”

“Bullshit!!” Jyugo snapped back, tears in his eyes.

“J-Jyugo, please!” Nico pleaded from close by, trying his best to diffuse the tense situation between his friends. “The medical staff know what they’re doing! (Y/N) will be fine! S-she has to be..”

Jyugo let out a hiss of a breath as he yanked his arm from Rock’s hold, turning away and wrapping his arms around himself. His whole body was shivering with the intense stress he was under, hands holding either arm so tightly the skin went pale under his jumpsuit.

“Breathe, Jyugo.” Uno soothed, or at least tried to, reaching out to touch Jyugo’s shoulder. Jyugo, however, just flinched away from the touch. “Everything’ll be okay. Just try to calm down.”

How could Uno be so calm about this? You were hurt, and hurt very badly! Jyugo could tell the situation was dire just by how much blood you lost!

“You don’t know that..”

Jyugo’s words were just barely a whisper, shaky and filled with fear. Rock sighed.

“Look, I know you love (Y/N), but panicking and barging into the infirmary while she’s being treated won’t help. It’ll only make things worse. Let’s just wait and see if we get any news on her condition, okay?”

Jyugo sniffed back some tears and let out a long breath. Breathe, relax.. unfortunately, he found it hard to. All he could do was hope that they’d get some news soon, and that it’d be good news.

It wasn’t until hours after the incident that the boys finally heard about your situation. A severe cracked skull, which needed you put into a medically induced coma, with your recovery time expected to be months away. That is, if you’re strong enough to pull through such a traumatic injury.

Jyugo didn’t take the news well at all. More tears and panicking even worse than before at the possibility of your death. He couldn’t lose you, he couldn’t!!

At least he had his friends there to try and comfort him, reassure him that everything would be okay, even if he severely doubted it. All they could do now was pray for the best.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

It had now been two months since the day you sustained your injury. Jyugo had been worried sick each day, spending lots of time pacing, staying up all night, and just hoping to whatever gods existed that you’d pull through.

Of course, he had broken out of the cell to sneak into the infirmary to visit you countless times, even though he’d be scolded by Otogi or whacked on the head by Hajime for it.

It got to the point where the doctor got so sick of his constant unannounced visits that he just ordered Hajime to allow the boy, and his cellmates if they so desired, to visit at least twice a week at a certain time of day.

Thankfully, your condition slowly improved, and your skull crack healed. Otogi decided to keep you under for just a bit longer, see how your condition maintains, before waking you up. But now, today was finally the day.

Jyugo was allowed to come see you after Otogi did the necessary procedure to revert your coma, being dropped off by Hajime at your bedside. The supervisor sat close by, watching the inmate closely to make sure he behaved.

The boy’s attention was all but focused on trying to escape, thinking about nothing else but you. His hand cupped over one of yours, being mindful of the IV there, as he stared expectantly at your unmoving face.

Otogi already told him that the time it takes you to wake up may be long, but he didn’t care. As long as you woke up, he was happy.

However, he wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

Slowly, you showed signs of waking up. Making soft mumbling noises, twitching your hands or eyelids, and turning your head. Each time you showed these signs, Jyugo’s heart rate increased, and his hold on your hand tightened.

Finally, finally, about six minutes after the first sign.. your eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the brightness of the led strip lights of the infirmary ceiling.

“(Y-Y/N!)”

Jyugo’s voice prompted your head to turn his way, weakly looking up at him. You murmured his name gently, a smile coming to your face. Just like that, the dam broke, and Jyugo reared forward to take you in his arms, ugly tears spilling down his cheeks.

“O-oh, (Y/N)..! I- I thought— I thought I was going to lose you!!” He cried out, sobbing into your neck. “I was— I was so scared!!”

Though you found it hard to move, you carefully lifted a hand, putting it on the small of his back and running a thumb back and forth to attempt to soothe his tears.

Jyugo sounded like a broken record, repeating his fears of how he thought you’d have died, how relived he was that you were finally awake.. but you didn’t care. You were moved by how happy, how relieved he was, to finally be able to hold you in his arms again.

“I— I love you, (Y/N).. I love you so much..! I couldn’t lose you.. I just couldn’t..!”

You cooed at his words and lifted your head a bit, turning to press a soft kiss to his temple. At the contact, Jyugo pulled back, meeting your gaze. His cheeks were absolutely soaked in rapidly flowing tears, lips and clenched teeth quivering slightly as he choked back sobs.

Lifting a hand, Jyugo took your cheek in his palm, warm against his own skin. He sniffled again before leaning forward, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, loving kiss, which you gladly returned.

You didn’t know it just yet, but Jyugo wouldn’t let you out of his sight for a long ass time after this, and he’d become especially protective of you. Not that you minded. You couldn’t blame him after this little— no— big scare.

As you and Jyugo embraced, it felt like it was just the two of you in the whole entire world. Like Jyugo’s own world was whole again, a space that had been empty for so long without you there beside him finally filled once more. There’s nowhere in the world either of you would rather be— at each other’s sides.