#I want to give you more compliments but I can’t think of any :((

[seasidefallenangel]

now say i'm the only one you need

ranking the bllk men on how good of a boyfriend they are ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, michael kaiser, alexis ness

song from here listen to it to get a kiss from me

༄ isagi: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” he’s incredibly attentive of all your needs and overall is very good at balancing his soccer career with your relationship. dictionary definition of “walk him like a dog.” anything you say goes and he’s more than happy with things being that way. actually has a pretty high tolerance for whatever things you might put him through, he tends to be good at solving problems before they can spiral out of control. the most you’ll have to deal with is the fact he can be kind of on the more awkward and shy side of things, unsure how to really be in a relationship. he wasn’t really popular or well known at all before blue lock, so at most he had crushes that were one-sided. his friends joke and tease about how you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. he doesn’t even care that they’re right.

༄ bachira: 9/10

the thing with bachira is that you’re not gonna date him unless you’re okay with all of his quirks, so there’s really nothing “bad” or unexpected going into the relationship. at his worst he can be clingy and a smidge overbearing, but he’s terrified of you deciding you want something more, better than him. he’s very easy going because of this, and really won’t have any disagreements with whatever ideas strike you. you’re actually a rock in this life, and he feels safe confiding all the thoughts clawing at his mind when he’s being held in your arms. despite what people may think, he does have a calmer temperament to him - generally after practice or late at night. he’s a big cuddle bug and will most likely fall asleep on your stomach, clinging to you so you can’t leave him.

༄ chigiri: 5/10

rose-glasses off, chigiri kinda sucks. he’s very selfish without the whole egoist thing going on, and it’s confirmed in canon that a lot of people get turned off by his personality after being drawn in by his looks. he obviously has some interest in you if you’re dating, but that doesn’t mean his bad traits magically go away. his mindset is very “me before you.” if you’re arguing he’s going to bring up points for the sole purpose of hurting you because he has to be right. he has too much pride to admit when he's wrong but also to apologize for his actions. on the opposite side of that, though, is compliments and the like are easy for him to give you. he’s pretty open with his opinions so if he likes a certain thing about you he has no qualms with telling you as such. he would never deny you're dating and generally likes to show you off, wanting everyone to know he bagged an incredible person. he’s not the worst person to date, but it probably won’t be worth anything as a long term relationship.

༄ nagi: 6/10

nagi is my favorite character and that’s why i need to say this. he does have some merit for what it’s worth. he’s very physically affectionate and is also really easy to be around. i see him as being more open to compromise if you’re stern enough with him. he might complain a bit but he’s not that hard to convince. the biggest issue with him is that he just… doesn’t care. if he goes to a new cafe with you it’s cause you asked him, not because he wanted to. it’s not that he doesn’t love you, he just doesn’t process things like this in his brain. the concept of ‘doing things for your partner before they ask’ doesn’t click. he’s not a mind reader, so isn’t just being vocal about what you want the easiest? he doesn’t really expect much from you as a partner so easily grows confused at why you have these random demands and expectations from him when you know exactly how he is. it might not be a dealbreaker, but it does make you question if he’s ever actually enjoying his time with you.

༄ reo: 8/10

reo’s biggest issues are 1.) he's absurdly jealous and 2.) his money. the thing with his money is the fact he uses it almost as a deflector of sorts. if you have a genuine problem you need to sort out with him, he's giving you new jewelry, designer bags, dinners at michelin star restaurants instead of talking it out. he doesn’t want to give you the chance to bring up your displeasure in regards to something he’s done. it’s his default answer because it’s the only thing people have wanted from him. reo is actually very scared of conflict. he’s worried you’ll leave him at the first sign of him not being the picture perfect boyfriend that’s expected from him, which ties into the jealousy. if someone has a trait you admire, he’ll mold himself to fit that thing you seem to like.  he hates when you even acknowledge other people’s talents or attractive features  (save for nagi.) speaking of nagi, it’s played out but i do believe he’s the only person reo will share you with. if nagi wants to cuddle, kiss, act like your boyfriend, reo has no issue as long as he’s involved too. when you’re someone reo truly loves, he’ll let you do pretty much anything to him with no repercussions. it’s very easy to take advantage of him as long as you promise stay by his side.

༄ rin: 7/10

no matter how much he denies it, rin tries very hard to be sae. he wants to be the nonchalant boyfriend, never losing his cool and making it seem like you’re always running back for more. in truth, he couldn’t be more obvious about how badly he needs you. he has this sort of non-stop identity crisis going so he’s going to have this front of “fine with you, fine without you.” he wants you to think he doesn’t need you that bad because he’s worried you’ll see him as weak. the thing that makes it obvious is that when you’re threatening to leave because he’s just too hot and cold, he caves instantly. teeth gritted, he’ll ask what you want him to change, what kind of person should he be for you? after sae, he became so desperately starved for love that the second you started dating  he felt like he was suffocating, always needing your validation but unable to ask for it. similarly to reo, he’s easy to take advantage of if you insinuate that you’re unhappy with something currently in your relationship. be gentle because you can break him apart and he’ll always think it was his fault.

༄ sae: 9/10

i’m gonna go against the grain and say that sae is actually a great boyfriend because he wouldn’t bother getting into a relationship to begin with if he didnt think it’s worth his time. he’s an incredibly self assured person so he has no reason to be all wishy-washy with who he’s interested. sae’ll make it clear he wants to date you and obviously you’re reciprocating because duh, he’s sae itoshi. from the get go he’ll remind you that soccer is his career, his lifeblood, and while he loves you more, his priorities lay there. the fact he straight up admits it instead of letting it become a festering issue is exactly why he’s so good because neither of you will have wasted time in the relationship. he’s also easier to talk to than one might think. sae generally believes drawn out arguments are pointless  and wasting energy on them doesn’t help anyone, so any that you two have are squashed pretty quickly. affection comes pretty easily to him but he can be a little emotionally absent at his worst. it’s not really something that changes over time, but he has other methods of making sure you know he adores you. it’s very “what you see is what you get.” if you’re acquainted with him at all, there’s really no negative surprises or unexpected twists that put a damper on the romance between you both. if nothing else, he makes sure the whole world know exactly who you belong to, and it leaves you with no room to doubt he plans to keep you by his side forever.

༄ karasu: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” this is generally a shock to people who know the kind of company he keeps around but the thing is that karasu doesn’t approve of otoya’s behavior. he goes from insinuating otoya could be doing better things with his time than leading girls on to flat out telling him he’s pathetic for not holding down a relationship. most of the girls who have their hearts broken by otoya fall in love with karasu right after from how kindly he treats them and the way he apologizes for his friends nasty habits. karasu holds a lot of respect for you as a person since he’s attracted to people he can analyze and read into. a common bonding activity is just him asking your opinions on certain topics or how you’d approach a theoretical situation and he’ll sit back and listen, trying to dig into your mind. he’s also very self aware of his flaws and will admit he isn’t perfect but is always working to better himself (“his weakness is that he can't be nice to people he thinks are mediocre and knows he needs to fix that.”) it’s not like you’ll never have issues, but he always resolves them in a way that doesn’t add tension or doubt to your relationship. he’s also good with all 5 love languages and prefers to show them all to you, but if you have ones you prefer or dislike then he can easily adjust. he’s always listening to you, learning about you, wanting to be the best version of himself he can for you.

༄ otoya: 6/10

the glaring bone of contention with otoya is obvious to anyone who knows him - but not in the way you think. otoya can be a good boyfriend if he wants ; he knows what girls like, what makes them happy, how to keep them satisfied. he’s had enough practice for it to be second nature. once you're in a genuine relationship with him, he’s going to treat you pretty well. thing is - that’s exactly his problem. in the back of your head you know why he’s so good at this. you know you’re an idiot for thinking you can change him despite the fact you did. it’s just impossible to believe. every time he tries to reassure you that yes, you’re his only, he doesn’t want to go back to his old ways, you’re just staring at him thinking to yourself, ‘wonder how many times he’s used this line on someone.’ you’re just never going to have a sense of security with him because there’s always this lingering "what if" bouncing around. the worst part is that it’s not an unreasonable line of thought. mindless paranoia is one thing, but there’s so much proof against him that you’d be more humiliated for assuming he isn’t cheating on you - you can’t date a serial cheater and be really that mad or shocked if he does. you know what you signed up for accepting his confession, so your entire viewpoint is that it’s a matter of ‘when’ and not ‘if’. you can never ever say with full confidence he's 100% yours, even when he is.

༄ yukimiya: 10/10

one third of the “perfect boyfriend trio.” i know it’s like beating a dead horse since this is a commonly shared sentiment but he really is incredible. a big part of the reason why is actually the fact he’s emotionally mature. he’s in tune with how he feels and knows how to convey it respectfully but isn’t so set in his ways he can’t see what points you want to make if you were to disagree on something. something else is that he’s very good at reading your micro-behaviors and can fall in line pretty well with how you act without compromising his own personality (in comparison to how someone like bachira or alexis would.) if you tend to be on the shyer side, not really one to defend yourself, he has no issue stepping in and solving whatever problem is going on. on the flip if you are more outgoing and not scared to bite at people then he'll fall back, only intervening when he can sense things’ll get ugly if he doesn’t tug on your leash a little bit. something he particularly enjoys doing is picking up hobbies or skills that you enjoy or would appreciate. he’ll learn how to cook if you hate it or asks you to read your favorite books to him at night, wrapped in his arms while he presses a gentle kiss against your temple. 

༄ kaiser: 4/10 to 8/10 

the thing with kaiser is that he’s a really good boyfriend, but you have to go through hell to get to that point. he has so many walls and has all these little “tests” where he tries to catch you using him for his money, status, looks, etc. kaiser wants to convince himself that love obviously isn’t real ; look at his parents for god’s sake. so he’s always trying to plan some “gotcha” thing and catch you in the act. the issue is, he doesn’t. you’re really like this from the bottom of your heart and he can’t wrap his head around that fact. so he goes to the emotion he knows best - anger. he’s lashing out at you for lying to him, accusing you of all sorts of things because surely there’s no way this is real, that he has something fully his, someone who cherishes him and sees him for his best. this entire process isn’t a few months either - this is a good two or three years. he has a lot of built up trauma to navigate both on his own and with you. if you somehow have the conviction to get through this then he’ll be a really incredible guy to have around. he loves you so fiercely that he’d rather die than let the one good thing he’s been gifted to slip from his fingers, but everyone in your life is going to hate him by then and insist he hasn’t changed, feeling like you’re going to eventually be broken by him.

༄ alexis: ?/10

alexis is actually pretty similar to bachira, just more extreme. in any other context, his obsessions would be viewed as something of concern or distasteful but dating alexis means you already would know about it and in turn only get into a relationship if you were okay with it. it’s not as if his attachment to kaiser is a secret. if you’re going in with the “i can fix him” mentality then you’ve doomed yourself already. you have to already accept his quirks and such to really reach him in a way that matters. a relationship with him is this unending back and forth. you're actually not really going to be viewed as this untouchable deity because he's already yours. he doesn't have to prove his worth like with kaiser. the thing is that kaiser molded who he is now so kaiser is kind of his tie to humanity - without him, alexis doesn’t really have much keeping him tied to earth. don’t think you’re not important to him because and he’s going to insane lengths for you to accept his unhealthy outlets of showing his love and devotion to you. he feels so much more human with you because you’re giving him the attention that he has to beg kaiser for but without the requirements to earn it - you just love him naturally. he’s not trying to prove that he deserves your love, he’s trying to prove that he loves you just as much back but he doesn’t know how to do it normally. he doesn’t know how to offer himself to you in a way that isn’t self destructive. he’s stuck in this non-stop cycle of you trying to convince him he doesn’t need to like earn your love and him thinking that it’s you saying he’s not doing enough to to earn your love and thus he goes to more extremes. if you can handle it then he’s great for you, you’ll never question that he’s madly in love with you. but if you get overwhelmed then he grows more unstable, and you’re stuck trying to make him better while he makes himself worse to hopefully get you to finally praise him for shattering who he is.

[tiki-was-here]

This was supposed to be ONE PARAGRAPH LONG but I got carried away. I wrote this one my phone and took king breaks throughout so just ignore any errors mwah

Ig content warning for dub con and canon typical violence.

Yeah changed my mind about it being “some random fling”

Reader is now the grandchild of the owner of Dorsia and is staying in NY after taking a break from school. Someway somehow they meet Bateman through mutual acquaintances. At first Bateman finds them utterly unappealing but as soon as he learns this information he’s ready to be a kiss ass.

At first his jealousy made him want to just take the sharp end of a hammer and scrape your brains out but his more sane side reminded him that this would be a perfect chance for him to climb the social ladder.

He could see the way you looked at him,feel the way your eyes lingered in his ass when you opened the door for him “just to be nice”. Disgusting. He couldn’t blame you though, he didn’t spend hours a week working out for nothing.

Anyways he starts subtly trying to get in your good graces. Complimenting your business card and asking where you got your suits tailored (let’s be real here this much “kindness” is enough to give this man an aneurism).

And even though you know what he’s trying to do because he’s horrible at talking to a person whose head isn’t that far up their own ass it’s cute to see him struggle. The stupid little nods and fake laughs he gives as you ramble on about a topic that you couldn’t give a damn about just to see him simmer with boredom.

He thinks he’s so sneaky with the way pretends to love your music taste, and claims any worldview you have as his own because yes, despite him looking like he’s about to throw up whenever he has to speak to someone he deems lower than him he definitely thinks that rich people should give more to charities that actually do something instead of just using it as a tax write off. He has always felt this way.

Definitely.

You finally decide to stop torturing him and you ask him one day when you guys are infront of his “friends” that your grandfather would like to meet him because he heard how Patrick made you feel sooo welcome and he wants to give a personal thanks (a lie you pulled straight out of your ass)

He was ecstatic, head already doubling in size as he accepted your invite quickly, much to the annoyance of his peers, not even batting an eye at the fact that you requested to stop by his place for a few drinks before you guys made your way there. He’s bragging to everyone he knows in the days leading up to the reservation, telling them how he’s actually good friends with the owner of Dorsia and how he just might be able to squeeze in a reservation for them because he’s that close.

Once your at his apartment though you tell him that you’re here for more than just drinks, and that his oh so perfect personality isn’t enough to get you to fulfill your promise.

He’s livid, mask seconds away from slipping and unleashing the monstrous nothingness that truly lives inside him. That is until you tell him that you just need him to do one little thing for him.

That all he has to do is get on his knees and put his pretty little mouth to good use. Obviously he objects, threatening to rip your eyes out of their sockets but you just laugh and tell him that he’s free to do so. He knows he can’t take that chance cus he’s spend the entire week inadvertently telling everyone that you’d be with him tonight.

He worries that you’d go as far as to check the records tonsee if he’d ever actually gotten a reservation there before (you did) and was sure that you wouldn’t hesitate to tell everyone about it. Like him, they’d eat up every word that came out of your mouth in hopes of getting closer to you.

And even though he’s upset he kinda respects the fact that you played him like a fiddle, because it’s not everyday that he finds himself backed into a corner like this. So very reluctantly he sinks down to his knees, telling himself that this doesn’t mean anything and that he’d kill you as soon as he had the chance.

And we all know what happens next.

Teehee having a random fling with Bateman and secretly taking photos of him sucking on your cock, blissed out expression with tears in his eyes as he all but chokes on ur length. Then using those photos to blackmail him into becoming your personal slut. Having him do more and more degrading things like wearing a collar, being your personal maid (skimpy dress is mandatory obviously 🙄) and even wearing a cock cage to work, all the while taking photos of his debauchery.

Little do you know that although he snaps and bites at you and tells himself that he’s only doing this because he’s being blackmailed he has to will himself not to cum whenever you take out your camera. And he spends hours dolling himself up, practicing his slutty little faces in the mirror just so that he can look good for you.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

54 for 🧜‍♂️:

---

He will figure out a way to become friends with Ravi. 

He spends the whole day partnering with Ravi on calls. He asks Bobby to arrange it. Says it’s important but Buck can’t tell him why. Bobby looks suspicious, but agrees.

So, they work together more closely than they have before. Buck thinks the best way to befriend another firefighter is to compliment them on the job. That’s what would work on him anyway. So he gives it a try with Ravi.

“Great work on that call, man,” he tells him in the morning.

“Nice save!” He exclaims as Ravi carries someone from a burning building.

“Are you sure this is your first month?” He teases later. 

Every time, Ravi meets him with a small smile and a muttered thanks. 

“Careful, Eddie,” he overhears Hen say to Eddie later. “I think he has a wandering eye.”

What? Why would she say that?

“Don’t even joke,” Eddie practically hisses.

Right! Because Buck doesn’t. He would never. He just wants to be Ravi’s friend. He’s the only person in the world that has this in common with Buck. At least that Buck knows of. He can’t just ignore that. 

Later, during some downtime, Buck approaches Ravi on his own.

“Hey, man!” He greets him with a big smile.

“Oh, hey, Buck,” Ravi replies, a little less enthusiastically. That’s okay. Buck is used to people not matching his enthusiasm. 

“Hey, do you have, like, a special beach or water access point?” He asks. “Somewhere safe for you to, you know… Be you.”

“Uh,” Ravi looks uncertain. “I do. You don’t?”

“No, no, I do,” Buck says. “But I was wondering, maybe you’d want to go sometime?”

“Go?” Ravi echoes.

“Yeah,” Buck nods. “Swimming.”

Buck is vaguely aware it sounds like a school kid inviting his peer over to swim in a backyard pool on the weekend. But whatever. It is what it is. He’s not going to ask if Ravi wants to transform into fish creatures together recreationally. That sounds weird.

“Ah,” Ravi says, understanding.  

“I just thought it might be cool,” Buck says. “I don’t know about you, but… You know, I’ve never met anyone like me, so…”

---

54 for 🍎:

---

“I stopped looking,” Bobby admits. “I stopped… At some point, I thought it might be better for them - him - not to be found.”

“Why on earth would that be true?” Athena asks.

“Lots of reasons,” Bobby says. “I mean, hell, he didn’t even know he was adopted until a few years back. Was I supposed to drop in and potentially ruin a family?”

Athena sighs. “This is about the fire.”

Well, of course it’s about the fire. Of course it is. 

“Bobby,” she says gently. “Buck already knows all that. He already knows everything.”

“Buck found out before me,” Bobby tells her. “He took leave from work. He went to Texas to be with Eddie. He won’t answer my calls.”

Athena purses her lips. “And you think that’s because of the apartment fire?”

“That and other things,” Bobby says. “Lots of things. I’m not the answer he was hoping to get. He went searching on a genealogy website.”

She shakes her head. “Did he say that?”

“No,” Bobby says. “We haven’t spoken. I only know about this because Eddie dropped a hint.”

“So you’re assuming you know how he feels?” Athena asks.

“Why else would he run, Athena?”

“Why would a man with notable abandonment issues and a history of feeling unwanted by his parents react adversely to the information that his mentor and personal hero is his biological father?” Athena asks.

Bobby blinks, confused. “What?” 

“What, what?” Athena retorts. “Come on, Bobby. You’re making assumptions about his feelings and I’m sure he’s making assumptions about yours.”

What is she saying? That Buck thinks Bobby would, what? Reject him? That’s absurd! Bobby, who unfired him. Who took him back after Buck sued him. Who has overlooked ignored evacuation orders and broken rules and general Buck-isms that would make other captains see red. If Bobby wanted to not have Buck in his life, for any reason, he’s had several opportunities. No. No way. He’s committed. Even without this, he’s committed. 

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[reilemon]

🌹Surrender❄️

♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.

♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne

♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp

♡︎ word count: 5.5k

♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia

The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”

You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”

Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”

“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”

The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”

Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”

Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”

Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”

Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.

The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.

“This place again?”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”

Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them. 

Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks. 

Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm. 

Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.

The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”

The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.

But your hand starts to wander.

It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”

You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.

Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.

You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.

Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.

“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.

Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.

“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.

“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”

Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.

Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—

And then Zayne pulls back.

The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.

Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.

Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.

“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”

His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”

Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.

Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.

“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”

Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.

“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.

“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”

Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.

The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.

“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”

You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”

“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.

Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.

“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”

Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.

Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.

Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.

“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.

Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.

“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.

You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”

Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.

You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.

Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.

“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.

Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.

Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.

“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.

Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.

“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.

Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.

“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”

Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”

Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”

You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words.  Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.

Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”

The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.

You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”

Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”

Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.

“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”

Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.

“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”

The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need

“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”

Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”

His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.

Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.

“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.

“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.

You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.

But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.

“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.

His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.

Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”

Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.

Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”

Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”

The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.

Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.

Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”

Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”

Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.

Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.

You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”

Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”

Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”

Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”

Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”

You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”

You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”

Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.

“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”

“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.

Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”

By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.

[tbaluver]

hiii! could you do hcs of lads men reacting to mc posting or sending them this but like with theur pictures?? hihiihi 🤭💕

https://x.com/mahaegals/status/1888472565120733590?s=46

Sending Him A Cleavage Photocard Pic- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb summary/context: if my title didn't make sense and you don't want to check the link ( im sorry im bad at titling .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.) scroll all the way down for a reference! tags: suggestive a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ hehe i remember seeing this trend all over twitter and i was def thinking abt this bc of my lads brainrot i hope i did it justice ! enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He didn’t even realize that there were pictures of him peeking through your cleavage. His eyes instantly went to your tits and admired how they sat so pretty and how it would look so good with him in between them

He won’t reply for a few minutes because he’s busy staring until he finally realized that you had his pictures in your cleavage

He can feel heat traveling to his body, and yes, it was down in his trousers, but he can’t help and feel a little jealousy boil in him because why are those pictures of him on you and not him.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: there’s no need to put my pictures there

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: On my way!

He’s using that speed of light to USE. The moment you look at his messages, you’d already hear your front door opening

Zayne:

He definitely should’ve seen it coming. With a sigh, he rubs his temples and eyes, shaking his head. A small smile tugs at his lips as his ears flush a deep red.

His cock twitches in his slacks when he stares longer at your breasts displayed so perfectly while his photos peek out of your clothes. He doesn’t even realize how many minutes pass by, completely hypnotized by the mounds of flesh.

☃︎: apologies.

☃︎:..i’m a little distracted.

You knew it was one of his weaknesses. You most likely sent that picture without context to tease him and it's definitely working.

☃︎: is this another way of you telling me you want another private check up?

☃︎: i’ll be home in an hour

☃︎: i believe you won't be needing those photos once i'm there.

Rafayel:

SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL

He would gasp SO loudly once he saw it. His mouth is wide open once he opens the messages to see your beautiful boobs cupped so nicely and so perfectly on his screen with his pictures popping out of your clothes.

It didn’t take that long for dirty images consuming his brain along with his dick rising in his pants

Responses from him include various compliments and keyboard smashes or both combined. He would get really impatient if you didn’t respond immediately because he needs to see and hear you right now

𓆟: oh my glubsddhkahf

𓆟: my girlfriend is so pretty (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

𓆟: so gorgousddsfjo

𓆟: cutiecutie

𓆟: answer the call pretty plss

Sylus:

A low chuckle escapes him as his lips curl into a smirk, savoring the image on his phone. Your pretty breasts are sitting nicely while pictures of him peek out of your bra, the one that he bought you. Tease.

Sylus will never get used to seeing your breathtaking figure on his screen. You always try to surprise him, and he can’t help but be amused but also find it adorable that you try too.  two can play at that game.

But obviously he’s going to shower you with compliments first

𓅂: my my my

𓅂: to what do i owe this pleasure to sweetie?

You can expect him to send you a couple more pictures. One of him is in the shower, where water drips down his body, giving you a clear view of his upper body but not enough to provide you with everything you want. Another of him is in his tank top, where he works on his motorcycle.

𓅂: to add to your photo collection.

And another one where he copies you. He'll send a close up shot of his towel wrapped around his waist, a picture of you peeking out of it, giving you just enough for you to have a full view of his v-line and his abs

𓅂: such a shame only a picture of you can be here

Caleb:

COLONEL DOWN COLONEL DOWN

See this is why he opens your messages after he finishes flying. Mainly because he knows that any picture of you might have him distracted when he's up in the sky. Literally head in the clouds.

Do not ask him the colors of your shirt/ bra or anything else in that picture, NOTHING

He’s also the type to realize late that there were pictures of him on your cleavage. It would just be a blur to him and he just thought your shirt/ bra was shaped silly.

✈︎: only i get to see this rightt :o

A low groan slip out of his lips as he held his phone tightly, his eyes tracing the shape. His brain fumbles on what to do or say but his dick is already racing him to it

✈︎: so picture caleb gets lucky but what about me :(

✈︎: you're killing me pipsqueak >:(

His hands would be shaky the entire time he’s sending you messages. His dick was too hard to even think properly

✈︎: looks like im gonna take a quick detour :D

✈︎: gonna show picture caleb that's not where he belongs

Like a puppy going after a treat

context: sending him a picture like this but only his pictures

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank yew to @divinedevotions for helping me sketch the reference pic so i can edit their photos on it .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

ʚɞ thank you to my beta reader @ilovemitsuya (˵˘ ³˘˵) ᯓᡣ𐭩

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

[g1rld1ary]

well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

next

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“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

next part

[fivestaralien]

just a little kiss

-> chan x gn!reader

warnings+”: it's pretty suggestive so I'm just gonna say MDNI!! 18+!, lots of kissing, make out sesh basically, dry humping, low-key lipstick kink, illusions to giving head,reader is lifted up word count: 920 notes ๋࣭⭑ if y'all know the picture I'm talking about, the one of the first picture on a brick wall and fans left lipstick stains on it, PLS send it to me I cant find it anywhere and I'll love you forever!!! had this thought and I wasn't going to stop thinking about it until I wrote it out soooo here this is!! pls reblog and comment!! it helps me the most and lmk what you think! stay safe everyone and be gentle with yourselves<3

// part 2

“It should be illegal how hot you are.” 

 Chan can’t hide the blush blooming on his neck and ears at the compliment. He shushes you jokingly while zipping and buttoning the white pants the stylist set for him. You were only dropping off lunch when Chan asked how you would feel helping him out with something. 

 “Only if you feel comfortable.” He ends after explaining the photographer wanted you to stain Chan’s neck and torso with kiss marks. They have a stamp that they normally use but when he heard you were coming, he knew the real thing would look even better. You obviously said yes. How could you resist loving up your beautiful boyfriend and physically be able to see it?

 There were a few color options and the deep red was really calling to you. Chan sits on the vanity next to where you were standing, waiting for you to finish applying it. You face him with a smile.

 “Here let me help.” He wipes some lipstick from the corner of your mouth. 

 “How does it look?” 

 “I’m having a very hard time not kissing you right now.” His tongue poked out to wet his lips. 

 You smile and lean over to give him a peck to try and satisfy him for now but that obviously doesn’t do much. He brings you to stand between his thighs, cupping your face to kiss you. It was a little needier and harder than you expected but neither of you minded. 

 Chan coasts his hands down to squeeze at your waist, pulling you closer against him. Your hands rest on his bare chest and it takes everything in you not to rake your nails and leave a pretty red trial. He licks across your bottom lip and you happily let him in. 

 By the time you pull away for air all of your lipstick had transferred onto his mouth and chin, smeared all over. You laugh at the sight and grab a makeup wipe, cleaning off his now reddened face. Chan stares at your mouth with a heated stare. The ruined lipstick all over your mouth was getting him a lot more hot and bothered than he expected. 

 “Don’t look at me like that love. We don’t have time.” You kiss his pout. 

 Before you could reapply your lipstick he pulls you back in. He places both hands on the backs of your thighs, lifting you with ease to sit on the vanity. You rest your arms over his shoulders, one hand threading through his hair and tugging lightly. Chan groans, bucking his hips forward and you gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his cock. 

 “I need you so bad baby. We can be fast.” He pleads, continuing to grind against you. You can’t deny how turned on you were, but the lunch break was only so much longer. 

 “I’m sorry but we probably shouldn’t,” you check the time on the clock on the wall, “we only have 15 minutes before you have to go back out and I know you too well to think we can finish in that time.”

 Chan pouts but nods nonetheless. He checks his appearance in the mirror as you hop off and whips out his phone, taking a few pictures. Loving the evidence of your affection towards each other on him. You finally reapply the lipstick, going to the couch to grab a few pillows to place under your knees. 

 “Baby, please tell me this is some sick joke.” His eyes darken as he catches a glimpse of the pillows placed conveniently right by his feet. 

 “What? The ground is hard and I don't want any bruises.” 

 You plant the first mark on the side of his neck, then a few to the front of his throat. Chan grips at your hips again, his breath becoming shallow as you continue to go down. The sight of you on your knees, lipstick stained mouth getting closer to where he needs you most was driving him insane. 

 “Maybe we can just use the stamp. You look too good right now and I don’t know if I can-”

 The last few kisses are planted right above the waistline of his pants, causing his breath to hitch and his stomach twitch underneath your lips. 

 “All done” You whisper against his skin and look up at him through your lashes. 

 Chan throws his head back, holding back a loud moan. You were torturing him at this point so he lifts you to stand on your feet and keeps you at arms length. He mumbles sad thoughts out loud, looking anywhere but you and you can’t help but laugh.

 “I’m sorry to laugh but does that actually help get rid of it?” You ask while picking up the pillows to put them back. 

 “If I even look at you I will cum. This is the best I could come up with.” Chan tilts his head straight up at the ceiling with his eyes closed. 

 A staff member knocks on the door to tell Chan he needs to be out in 5 minutes which he couldn’t be more thankful for. You watch from the couch as he hastily throws the jacket on, careful not to mess up the stains across his body. Luckily he was able to fix his situation in time and leaves you with a kiss on your forehead. 

 “This isn’t over baby girl. I’m not going easy tonight.” He whispers against your ear then kisses your lips. 

_

PERM TAGLIST: @velvetmoonlght , @amararosesblog

// all masterlists , skz masterlist

[xinganhao]

not for sale 💳 mingyu x reader. (3)

celebrity!mingyu and small business owner!reader. check out 🛒 not for sale's masterlist.

You can’t bring yourself to end the call. 

Your phone is overheating. You’re below the acceptable battery threshold of twenty percent. And the dark-haired boy on the other end of the screen looks more asleep than awake. 

You should end this call, but you can’t. 

Mingyu doesn’t seem keen on ending it either. His eyes are drooping and his head has begun to loll every so often. He’d spent the first couple minutes of the call talking about his day— the seemingly endless rotation of engagements that came with being a celebrity. 

Sometimes, it still strikes you as odd that this is the life you now lead. Being on FaceTime with somebody that hundreds, maybe thousands of people fawned over. 

But you were friends… right? And friends called each other. Friends texted. 

This is friendly, a small voice in the back of your head tries to convince you. So very, very friendly. 

The conversation has since mellowed out. Mingyu makes good on his word; he falls quiet, observing your work like it’s some form of entertainment for him. At one point, you even forget he’s watching. 

It’s why you’re a bit jolted when he absentmindedly mumbles, “You have nice hands.” 

You pause in the middle of bubble wrapping an order. One cursory glance at your screen, and you see that Mingyu is absolutely fighting for his life to stay awake. The sight almost makes you smile. 

“You should head to bed soon,” you say instead of addressing his compliment. “We’ve been on call for— what? Two hours, I think.” 

Mingyu says something too low for you to catch. You give a noncommittal hum of ‘hmm?’, prompting him to repeat what he’d said. 

And maybe he’s just tired enough to decide fuck it. Maybe it’s past midnight and that makes everything fair game. 

Because Mingyu breathes out a quiet “not enough,” and you swear something screeches to a halt in your brain. Two hours. Not enough. 

You swallow. He’s out of it, you think to yourself, your fingers quivering a bit as you cut, tape, seal. He’s sleep-deprived and talking out of his ass. 

That’s what gives you the audacity to ask what’s been on your mind for days now. 

“Mingyu,” you ask, “why do you want to be an ambassador for Bittersweet?” 

A beat. One that stretches long enough for you to wonder if Mingyu had finally succumbed to his exhaustion. 

But then, his voice— quiet, but not any less sincere— rings over the line. “Because I like your jewelry.” 

Plain and simple. You’re not sure why you expected more. 

He goes on, his tone a little softer, slower. “I like what you’ve done with the business. I like… how hard you work. Your passion. All that.”

Mingyu pauses to yawn. You glance over to see him smiling into his phone, his half-lidded gaze trained on your hands moving over your workbench. It makes his next words a one-two punch on your poor heart. 

“Your brand may be called ‘Bittersweet’,” he says, “but you’re as sweet as they come.” 

EXCERPTS FROM "MINGYU opens up on being named Rising Star of the Year"

Q: Earlier this year, the Internet fell in love with you for being an ‘advocate for small businesses.’ You’ve seemed to take it a step further, though. 

MINGYU: [laughs] Is that what they’ve been saying? I had no idea. But, yes— the pieces I have on right now are from a small business. It’s called Bittersweet Jewelry, and it’s something I found one day while scrolling through SNS. 

Q: You didn’t know the seller prior to purchasing? 

MINGYU: No, not at all. They didn’t even know it was me. I used an alias for a while. 

Q: I see. A lot of people believe your support has been reflective of your personality. Being caring, considerate. 

MINGYU: That’s very nice. I appreciate that. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m just a guy who likes good jewelry. I admire consistency, quality. [holds up his rings] These have it in spades. 

Q: That’s why you keep coming back to brands like Bittersweet. 

MINGYU: Sure. We could say that.  

[...]

THE TOP FIVE SONGS MINGYU HAS BEEN PLAYING ON REPEAT LATELY

Love Me Like That by Sam Kim

Linger by The Cranberries

Tadhana by Up Dharma Down

If You Do by GOT7

LMLY by Jackson Wang

[...]

Q: What do you look for in a partner? 

MINGYU: Now, Minghao… [laughs] 

Q: Sorry. The readers want to know. 

MINGYU: I’m never going to escape this question, am I? Give me a minute to think about it. 

Q: Sure. 

MINGYU: [after a moment] I’d like somebody dedicated and passionate. Someone sweet. And… 

Q: And? 

MINGYU: Someone with nice hands, I guess. [smiles] 

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[naburi]

MY TEAMMATE’S DAUGHTER

SANA X READER

TAGS: DADDY KINK

2.7K WORDS

“There she is! Look at my daughter!” Your teammate points in the stand. He found out that he had an illegitimate child, now a beautiful young woman. He pays her visits occasionally and brings her every game to make up for the time he missed, not knowing that his daughter is already receiving the attention that she needs. “F-fuck me harder daddy!” Sana’s plea echoes through your room.

“You’re such a slut.” You said while you slapped her ass. You are holding Sana by her thin arms as you pound her from behind. Her thin body shakes in every impact. “You want harder?” You said as you tighten your grip in her arms to pound her with more force. You take a pause after pulling it out just to ram your cock again in her now messy wet slit. The sound of her juicy slit getting pounded, the sound of flesh colliding as your hips bumps her meaty ass, Sana’s whales of pleasure. These noise made you fuck your slut even more.

Driving back home, a few notifications pop out on your phone screen. You just know they are from the fans that want to congratulate you after a win. You have no idea that one of those fans will change your life overnight. Finally arrived at your home. You went straight to bed to get some needed rest. Scrolling through the notifications bubble, you notice a familiar display photo, but you didn’t mind it as you thought that you probably saw them in the stadium. You are grateful to receive some encouraging messages from your fans, thus you take your time to read each and every message. After opening the first few bubbles, this notification bubble led you to an instagram story that mentioned you. It’s a picture of you and two of your teammates. “Hold on, is this her daughter?” You said as you went to check her account. You saw some of her posts where she is in the game. “That’s why she mentioned me, I’m with her father in the photo.” You concluded. Sana is laying in her room, waiting for you to notice her story. She smiles as it notifies her that you give it a like.

The next game is concluded in a loss, the locker room is silent. It’s an unspoken rule that nobody should go out or have fun at night after a loss. You went straight home. you quickly drove home to get this night. Fewer notifications pop in your phone. You 're not expecting any good messages with how you lost this game. You saw the name of the daughter of your teammate again in your notification bubbles. You click on it first which brings you to an instagram story again. This time it’s a video of you with a caption “great play!” Attached with your mentioned name. You appreciate her compliment and contemplate if you should send her a message. Thinking about it for a minute, you settle in giving it a like again. Scrolling through the other bubbles, a new notification pops up. Sana followed you on instagram and sent you a direct message. “Hi! You did your best! Let’s win the next one!” You left a chuckle while reading her message. You haven’t heard her voice before but you read it like someone is cheering you on. “Thank you! Father played well today as well!” You responded to her. After sending the message, I saw that she had already seen it. It means she’s waiting for your message all along. “He’s a good player just like you! I want to meet you in person!” She sent another message but you were too tired to look at it. You toss your phone to the side before falling asleep.

You drove to the stadium for an early game today. Walking at the facility, it’s strange that you have not met anybody from your team yet. You continue to look for anyone in your team as you hear a noise coming out of one of the rooms. The whole team and staff are here and they are circling around a woman? “Your daughter is so pretty!”,”this can’t be your kid, she doesn’t look like you!”,”she’s too gorgeous to be your daughter!” The whole team is making fun of her father. Sana is standing on the other side, just smiling with the jokes. Her brunette hair shines from the sunlight behind her. Her silky white skin glows brighter than the light itself. Your teammates take turns shaking the woman before going out to the dugout. As more people leave the room, Sana finally caught a glimpse of you. Her innocent smile widens just enough that it looks seductive. It’s your turn for a handshake. You reach out your hand for sana to hold. Her slim fingers touch the back of your hand, her soft hands graces on your skin so slowly that it gives you chills. Her small hands look small compared to yours. She holds your hand a little longer than the others. “Goodluck!” She said while tightening her grip before finally letting your hands go. This is the first time you heard her voice. It didn’t help that her seductive smile didn’t go away when she held you. You won this game, the coach invited the team to celebrate this win with liquor. Some of your teammates are joking that they should also invite Sana with them but her father and some of the other players say that it should be a team only celebration. It’s still early in the night but you and some of your teammates excuse yourselves to go home to take an early rest.

Driving back home, your phone started to pop off with notifications again. You smile expecting a mentioned story or a message from Sana again. You sit on the sofa before you check your phone. You were baffled that no notification is from Sana. Checking your conversation, you saw that you haven’t responded to her message last night. “Should I message her?” You asked yourself. Sana has been putting you in a story in every game but today. You want to know the reason why you haven’t heard from her today thus finding yourself being the one to message her first. “It’s nice to meet you up close.” You said in your chat. Sana usually responds right away. It’s been 10 minutes now and she still has not read your message. You started to worry that you might have done something wrong that made the woman step away from you.

It’s past 10 pm, and a series of notifications wakes you up. You found yourself sleeping on your sofa, waiting for a response from Sana. You hurriedly sat up as you saw the new notification bubbles. “Hi! I grabbed drinks with a friend!” She said while also sending a picture. It’s a picture of her with her drink beside a drawing on the wall. You may get the hint but you act oblivious. “Have you made it home? Stay safe.” You responded. You are finally at ease knowing that she’s just busy. “Thank you, I’m walking with my friend on the way home. We are just a few houses apart from where she lived.” She quickly responded. “Let’s grab a drink some other time as well :)” she added with a smiling expression. The idea of going out with Sana excites you but the realization that her father might take it the wrong way holds you back. you don’t want to create any distraction with the team. “Your father might have found out,” you responded. “We can grab some drinks and spend some time in your house,” she suggested. You don’t like where this is heading, you know what will happen if the two of you are left alone in your home. “No one will find out” you said to yourself before agreeing with Sana. “Meet me after the game on Friday” you said to her.

In the locker room, the players are doing their pre-game routine and changing clothes. Sana is off your mind as you are focused on winning against your rival team. She didn’t leave your mind that long enough as you saw the woman standing outside of the locker room door. Sana is wearing less than what you are accustomed to. She usually is in jeans while paring it to your team's jersey. The locker room got quiet as they were too stunned with how attractive she is. The woman is wearing a small skirt that exposes her long lean legs paired with a tight folder jersey that shows her midriff. She walked inside the locker room to hand something to her father. She said it’s for good luck as she knows that this game means more as it is against your historically rival team. Sana gives you a long glance with a smirk on her face before she walks out. You both knew that she was not there for her father. She’s in there to give a glimpse of what you will see more tonight.

The game ended in a victory. Your coach invited the whole team to celebrate but you politely declined this one as you said you have a date. Your teammates are making fun of you that what you meant is really that you are going to hook up with someone tonight. It is not further from the truth as your mind gets clouded by how seductive Sana looks at you and how inviting her outfit is. You hurriedly walk your way out of the stadium. You tried to call your date for tonight but you were surprised that she is already in front of your car, waiting for you. “What if someone saw you?”,”I’ll just say I’m looking for my father.” She smirked at you. You look around to see if any player or staff saw the two of you but it seems like they are still inside. “How did you know which one is my car?” You asked in disbelief. Sana just gives you a wide smile. You guide her to the passenger seat and open the door for her. She thanked you as she sat inside.

You drove off to the nearest convenient store to grab drinks and some snacks. Sana is waiting in the car while you buy those items in the store. After returning to your seat. You felt her slim fingers wander on your pants. “What took you so long?” Sana’s voice changed. Her voice became higher pitched than usual, almost acting like a baby that’s waiting for her food. Her left hand is now moving up and downward on top of your forming bulge. You have not said anything as you don’t know how to react to her fast advancement. “I want to feel you now, Daddy,” her voice changed again. From a baby-like voice to a slow and alluring voice. Something clicked into you when she called you “Daddy.” It woke up your instinct for sex. Sana noticed this too as she felt how hard you got just by hearing that. Sana smiled and didn't leave her face as she knows that she will get what she came for. The two of you have now arrived at your home. You bring down the drinks and snacks to a small table in your living room. You sit on your sofa as you are about to open the drinks but Sana has other plans.

“I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” Sana unzips your pants down to your ankles. She smiles when she sees your cock begging to be let out on your underwear. She pulls your underwear slowly as she wants to see it spring back up in total hardness which she saw when she finally let your hard cock out. Sana gives your hard cock a few strokes before she measures it with her forearm. “It’s bigger than my forearm!” Her thin forearm has no match with the girth of your cock. You chuckled as even in this situation she can still look as cute and innocent as ever. Sana laughs with you before she holds your cock and pat her face with it. She let your cock rest on her face. Your hard cock is resting beside her sharp nose bridge, your shaft is on top of her left cheek while she closes one of her eyes as your cock is covering half of her face with your tip on her forehead. Sana smiles as she gets turned on by feeling your big cock on her soft face. She holds your cock again to now pat her tongue with it. She gives the tip a few licks before trying to swallow all of your cock in one go. You groan as your cock is not even lubricated enough for a deepthroat. You can feel her soft inside as she slowly swallows all of your cock. Her sharp nose touches your abdomen before she pulls her head back. Sana gasped some air as she left a chuckle. “You have a big dick, daddy.” She smiles again with her eyes widening from excitement.

You had enough of her gimmicks, you know what she came for and you will give her exact what she wants. You hold Sana’s brown hair in a makeshift pigtail to have something to hold on. Sana even opens her mouth wide as she waits for your movement. You bring down her face again, impaling her mouth with your hard cock. Gagging sounds come out every time you put all of your cock in her mouth but she didn’t care. Sana let you use her mouth for your pleasure. You stand up to give yourself a better angle. You know moving your hips to meet her face every time. Sana looks up at you with tears flowing down her eyes. You fasten your face until Sana’s face turns red due to lack of oxygen. You get worried for a bit as you pause to check on her. She coughs when you finally let go of her face. “Why didn’t you tap out?” You asked. “I want my daddy to use me just as he pleases” Sana gives you a wicked smile even in her messed up face.

You carry Sana to your room, she wraps her legs onto you while she kisses your neck before you carry her down to your bed. You unbutton her small skirt and tossed it on the other end of the room. Sana tried to fasten the process by pulling her underwear on her own but you caught her hand. “Someone is being inpatient.” You said while removing her hand on her underwear. “S-sorry, daddy” she said. You eventually remove her underwear. “Fuck me please, daddy.” “Fuck me now,” she continues to plead before you hold her cheeks to open her mouth. You put her underwear inside her mouth as a consequence of her impatience. You aligned your hard cock on her wet lips before slowly plunging it in. Sana's loud moans are muffled by the underwear inside her mouth. You can feel how her slit stretched out due to your girthy cock. You hold her by her thin legs and start your movement. Sana's muffled moans are still loud. She tried to remove her top while you're on top of her but you slap her hands away. “What did I tell you about being inpatient?” You shouted at her. Sana got turned on with how aggressive you're becoming. You pull up her folded jersey top and her bra in one go, exposing her perky boobs. You slapped her boobs with force until red marks appeared. You squeezed her boobs to hold onto it while you continue to fuck her. Sana can’t take it anymore. She removes her underwear in her mouth and starts to plead more. “Fuck me just like that, daddy!” She shouted as her body arched back in pleasure. “You like getting fucked like a slut?” You shouted back. “Yes! Yes! Fuck me! I’m your slut!” She said before she left out a loud moan. You pulled out your cock and instructed her to bend down. Sana quickly obliged and even spread her ass cheeks in front of you. You hold her thin arms as you continue to plunge your cock inside her again. “F-fuck me harder, daddy!”

[littlelamy]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓹𝓭𝓸𝓰

overly protective: rafe keeps tabs on your every move. he insists on knowing where you are at all times, not out of concern, but out of a possessive need to "keep you safe." if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s immediately on edge, ready to confront them.

desperate for attention: rafe constantly seeks your approval, asking for validation even in small things. he’s quick to compliment you and over-the-top in showing gratitude when you give him any attention or kindness.

jealousy issues:he can’t handle seeing you interact with anyone else for too long. even harmless conversations are a trigger for his insecurities. he’ll interrupt conversations, sometimes with lame excuses, just to reclaim your attention.

invasive devotion: rafe has a tendency to show up wherever you are, whether invited or not. he justifies it as "coincidence" or being worried about you. he’s memorized your schedule and will adjust his own life to align with yours.

gifts and grand gestures: rafe tries to spoil you with expensive gifts, thinking it will win your favor. even if you say you don’t want or need something, he’ll insist.he plans elaborate dates or surprises that feel more like traps to keep you with him than genuine efforts to make you happy.

constant contact: he texts and calls you excessively, needing constant reassurance that you’re thinking about him too. if you don’t respond quickly, he spirals, assuming the worst or accusing you of ignoring him.

unwavering loyalty: rafe would do anything for you—no questions asked. this includes shady or illegal actions if he thinks it’ll benefit you. he’s almost puppy-like in his willingness to take orders or do things just to see you smile.

manipulative streak: he knows how to play on your emotions, guilt-tripping you into spending time with him or choosing him over others. his sad puppy dog eyes and "i just want to make you happy, baby" line are his go-to weapons.

physical affection: rafe constantly hovers around you, leaning into any physical closeness you allow. he’s always looking for excuses to touch you, whether it’s holding your hand, brushing your hair out of your face, or wrapping an arm around your shoulder. he has no problem being openly clingy, even in public.

possessive behavior: to rafe, you’re his person. he talks about you as if you belong to him, even casually. he might even go so far as to subtly (or not-so-subtly) mark his territory by mentioning how close you are or finding ways to keep you away from other potential threats.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel and you have broken up towards the end of your pregnancy until Sarah convinces you to come to Tommy’s annual Christmas party.]

A Christmas baby

“I’m not arguing with you like this god dammit, I ain’t trynna upset you”

Fluff jealousy childbirth angst

“Please come tonight, I really want to see you” Sarah spoke on the other end of the phone. You sighed brushing your hand over your nine month belly, the last thing you wanted to do was attend Tommy’s annual Christmas party.

You knew how much Sarah cared for you and how much she wanted you to be there but after having broken up with Joel just two months prior, it felt strange.

“My dad misses you” she spoke softly.

“I don’t know Sarah, there’s a lot-“

“Please just think about it, it’s Christmas. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

How were you suppose to resist? Besides Tommy inviting most of the neighbors and having nosey eyes on you, it couldn’t be that bad…right?

Since breaking up with Joel, you had seen him twice. You remembered coming out of your OB appointment and Joel sitting at the bottom step outside waiting for you. You hadn’t expected to see him there, especially being that he never made it to any appointments, constantly over booking himself at work. You remembered the arguments the two of you would have, sometimes you felt he overbooked himself on purpose to not deal with anything that had to do with the baby.

Maybe he had cold feet you thought, whatever it was it didn’t go well mixed with your hormones, your sensitivity at an all time high.

When you moved in with your sister Abby, Joel constantly called her to make sure you were ok. Every night you’d hear your sister on the phone repeating the same things over and over.

“She’s ok”

“I swear I’ll call you if anything”

“No shes not lifting anything heavy, Joel”

Sometimes you couldn’t help but crack a smile, Joel was always invested in making sure you had everything you needed but what you wanted more was his time.

Pulling up in front Joel’s house you could see the guests from the front window. A part of you second guessing what you were doing there, almost tempted to turn back. Then there it was again, a slow pain that kept coming and going from your lower back. This must be what Braxton hicks contraction’s were as the doctor had explained a week piror.

“You made it!” You suddenly heard from outside your car. One of the neighbors, Tilly spotted you just as she was about to go inside with her older brother Jim. Jim was a good friend of Tommy’s, Joel never seemed to be a fan of his, you never knew why.

“Guess I can’t escape now” you whispered to yourself before opening your car door.

“Here, let me give you a hand” Jim gave you his arm as you stepped out the car.

“You look amazing” Jim uttered low as you grabbed onto him. Not expecting his compliment you smiled.

“Thanks”

“That red dress looks great on you” Tilly exclaimed.

“Joel’s gonna be so happy to see you” she chuckled.

Anxiously walking to the front door, you stopped at the steps to adjust your dress.

“Don’t worry Jim won’t let you fall” Tilly whispered, excitement in her voice for her favorite day of the year. Just as you began to walk up the steps the front door opened, to your surprise Joel stepped out. Caught off guard he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you, not expecting you to show up, much less holding onto Jim. You watched his eyes immediately turn to him, a stern look he couldn’t hide until Tilly’s high pitched voice distracted him.

“Joel! So good to see you!” He looked to her and gave her a nod, you could still see the disapproval he felt.

“Tommy’s makin’ drinks, ya got here just in time”

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice” Jim made his way up the stairs with you before you thanked him and held your hands together awkwardly. Taking a quick glance at Joel you noticed him looking at you but you didn’t say a word, neither did he, until you were alone.

“I’ve been callin’ you” he stood against the door, cheers and laughter could be heard in the background.

“Abby told me” you spoke softly. His tongue sliding against his inner cheek, there was so much more he wanted to say, you could see it.

“How have you been feelin’?

His question making you finally look up directly at him. He wore a red and black flannel shirt, the one he knew you loved.

“Um-it’s getting harder to walk in certain shoes now” you chuckled showing off that you wore flip flops with your dress. Joel smiled, something he hadn’t done much of since you left.

“Oh my gosh you came!” Sarah’s voice made you both turn her way.

“Hey Sarah,” you smiled.

“Oh my- that red dress is so cute on your baby bump” she grinned with excitement.

“Thank you” you smiled brushing your hand over your bump making Joel’s eyes soften as he looked at you.

“Oh uh- I’m sorry for interrupting dad. I just-“

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m glad to see you excited” he assured her.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind I really need to use the restroom. I’m going every ten minutes now” you laughed before quickly and awkwardly excusing yourself to the back.

Coming out of the bathroom you gave Sarah your sweater and purse as you looked around the room to all the guests there, you honestly didn’t know where to put yourself.

“Look at you, I’m glad you showed up!” Tommy approached you with a Santa hat and beer in hand.

“How are you feelin’?” Tommy asked as Joel appeared beside him.

“Well my ankles are killing me, my back feels on fire, she’s constantly kicking me“ you chuckled.

“but other than that I’m fine” you sighed.

“Aw she’s just excited to meet her uncle” Tommy laughed as he leaned towards your belly.

“Ain’t that right lil’ niece?”

“Tommy” Joel uttered giving him a side eye.

“What? Just a few more weeks till we meet, I’m excited” he took a sip from his beer before being pulled away to dance. Joel and you stood beside each other, his arms crossed as he laughed at his brother before looking over at you.

“How about we get you a seat,”

“Um, it’s fine, I’d rather stay here plus all the seats are taken”

“So, I’ll get somebody up” Joel looked back at the full room quickly eyeing who he’d get the seat from.

“No, no it’s fine” as much as your ankles hurt, you’d rather have stayed away from everyone asking you dozens of questions.

“You wanna lay down in our room for a bit?” His question catching you off guard.

Our room.

“Thanks, Joel. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take some water though, I am thirsty”

He nodded, his eyes remained on you longer than he meant to, drifting down to your dress laying perfectly over your baby bump.

“You look beautiful by the way”

Your heart skipping a beat from his words, you looked over at him.

“Thank you” you whispered before he walked into the kitchen.

Soon you noticed Mary and Lisa heading your way, two of the most nosiest neighbors you had dying to ask questions the moment you walked in. Those two women never seemed to know when to stop talking. Quickly turning towards the kitchen you walked off doing your best to avoid them when you heard a woman laughing in the kitchen. Silently stopping at the doorway you saw Maria with Joel, she was known for many things with men around the area, especially married men. Her hand on Joel’s shoulder as he held your glass of water in hand, you felt a jealousy you had never felt before.

“If it wasn’t for you driving me home that night, who knows where I would’ve ended up” she laughed as your heart sunk. It couldn’t be, Joel spent a night with Maria? Although you and Joel weren’t together, it was crushing to hear.

“Maybe you can drive me home tonight again…?” She spoke with a flirtatious voice as her hand creeped to back of his neck when you accidentally knocked something down beside you. Both of them quickly looking up, Joel realized you had heard everything but before he could say a word you quickly walked out rushing to grab your belongings from down the hall. Joel quickly put the glass down and pushed past Maria following you out as your heart raced with disbelief and hurt.

“Sarah where’s my stuff?” Your voice cracked as she looked up at you confused.

“In the room, are you okay?” You couldn’t respond rushing toward the bedroom as Joel quickly followed behind calling your name.

“It ain’t what you think-“ Joel appeared at the doorway slightly out of breath as you grabbed your sweater.

“Hey, hey-listen to me, baby” he rushed towards you trying to get you to understand him, desperation in his eyes, his hand attempted to grab your face.

“Don’t!” You screamed, tears building up in your eyes.

“The neighborhood whore huh?”

“No, dammit, listen to me!”

“No, you would-“ you suddenly stopped speaking as a sharp cramping like sensation took over you. Leaning forward you winced grabbing your belly, Joels expression instantly changing.

“What? What’s wrong?” He whispered, his hand reaching for your belly just as the wave of pain passed.

“Don’t” you shoved his hand away and took a deep breath. Getting yourself together you put your sweater on and grabbed your purse. Trying to walk past him he blocked your way, a look of concern he couldn’t hide if he tried.

“I’m not lettin’ you leave like this”

“Like hell you’re not!” You screamed, the music and the guests so loud nobody could hear you arguing.

“You can go continue your fun-“

“I’m not arguing with you like this god dammit, I ain’t trynna upset you”

“Too late for that” you aggressively put on your sweater.

“I didn’t do nothin’ with her! She was with Tommy, he passed out drunk in the car I was the only sober one so I drove. She got out the car went home and that was it, nothin’ happened between me and her”

“I don’t believe you” you shook your head as a tear fell from your eyes. You attempted to push past him but he wouldn’t budge.

“I ain’t lettin’ you drive like this-“

“What the hell do you care?! Go talk with Maria since obviously you have time for her but not our baby-“

“You know damn well that’s not true” he grabbed your wrists stopping you from pushing him aside.

“Let go of me!” You pulled your arms back just as another wave of pain took over. Quickly turning away you leaned against the wall.

“Ow-“ you cried out. The pain more intense than you had been feeling earlier.

Joel quickly coming behind you making sure you were okay, his hands on your waist.

“Come sit down”

“No, no…it’ll go away like it did earlier” you whispered in between breaths.

“What do you mean earlier?”

You stood silent as you slowly turned to him.

“What do you mean earlier?” He repeated himself sternly.

“It’s Braxton hicks, I had felt them last week and the doctor told me it was normal. I’m not dilated-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was nothing to tell!” You winced again from yet another wave of pain.

“I don’t think these are Braxton hicks, you’re getting them to close together, you’re having contractions“

“No I am not. Just leave me alone” you squeezed your eyes shut unable to speak.

“Stop being so damn stubborn, we’re gettin’ you to a hospital”

“No!” You whispered with a gasp just as Sarah ran in.

“Oh my god-“

“Sarah, tell uncle Tommy we’re goin’ to the hospital” he called out to her.

“Is she-“

“Yes” his voice somehow calm as he had you hold onto him.

“Oh my g- it’s getting worse” you whimpered.

“I know, honey. We’re gonna get in the truck now” he caressed your face.

“Is this actually happening right now” you whispered to yourself.

“I think so, baby”

Tommy ran to the truck with his Santa hat still on, opening the doors for you and Joel as the guests all watched on in shock.

“I don’t have my bag! My bag, Joel!”

“I’ll tell your sister to bring it” he buckled your seatbelt and closed the door rushing to the other side. Everyone watched as Joel sped off, each contraction becoming more intense you screamed in agony as Joel kept beeping the horn. If you weren’t so distracted with the pain you felt you would’ve seen how desperate Joel became with each sound you made.

“We’re here, baby. We’re here” the tires screeched as he made a hard turn into the lot.

Everything happened so fast, next thing you knew you were on the hospital bed being instructed to push. Joel holding your leg up, you cried feeling as if you couldn’t get through this.

“I can’t-“ you shook your head as Joel stood beside you, gently turning your head to face him.

“Look at me, yes you can. I’m right here and I ain’t goin’ no where, count with me” Joel began to instruct you with breathing and counting as the doctor prepped for the arrival of your baby.

After all the pain and chaos that occurred, it was all worth it. After the end of it all, you had fallen asleep and awoke to Joel humming Silent Night. Still feeling weak, you turned to see him looking out the window as it snowed. You smiled just as he turned and caught your eyes on him.

“I think she likes this song” he whispered making you laugh.

“You read the book” you spoke softly as he looked at you confused.

“The book I gave you about dads during birth”

He smiled with a nod.

“How else would I had known how to help you breathe through all that pushin’” turns out he listened much more than you thought he did.

“Mhm” your eyes began to uncontrollably close, you were exhausted.

“Get your rest, baby. I got her” without a word you quickly fell back to sleep as Joel looked down at his daughter with tearful eyes.

“The best Christmas gift I’ve ever been given” he kissed her forehead and continued humming the song..

Tags

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco

@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

[kithtaehyung]

minted: two (explicit) | myg

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

-

-

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

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

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

Who is this person next to you? 

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

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

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

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

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

No answer.

Alright.

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

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

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

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

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

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

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

Mm. Does he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that taxi drive…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Floor…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

“What.” 

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

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

…Is that really his only response?

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

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

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

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

This is all too much. 

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

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

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

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

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

…Oh.

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

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

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

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, you fucked up.

Fuck. 

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

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

What was that about?

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

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

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

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

The worker bows stiff. “As you wish.” 

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

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

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

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

“Shower.”

“What?”

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

“It isn’t mine.”

“I know.”

Your mouth snaps shut. 

Fuck. Yoongi’s right. 

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

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

“Not interested.” 

Oh. He’s… 

Oh. 

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

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

A lie. 

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

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

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

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

“Closet.”

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

“Yes, princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The whole setup is lavish. 

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

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

Too bad you aren’t alone.

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

Uhh. 

What. 

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

“You good?”

Fuck!

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

“You ever knock?”

“No.”

“Shocker.”

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

“Move.”

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

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

Oh. Wow. It’s a lot more than fine.

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

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

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

Almost. 

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

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

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

Again with that little slant. 

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

“Suit yourself.”

You look up again.

But he’s already left you alone.

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

Why did you walk left today instead of right?

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

The blood will never wash out.

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

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

Because at least you succeeded. 

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

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

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

You chose left today.

If you had chosen right… 

Doesn’t matter. 

Your palm tingles.

Blood never really washes out.

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

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

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

Thank the universe.  

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

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

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

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

Did Yoongi just pocket a phone?

The duffle rests at his feet. 

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

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

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

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

“You took too long.”

“So? That doesn’t—”

“In my shower.”

Wait. What? “Oh.” 

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

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

“No, I… I didn’t notice the room.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do not engage do not engage do not engage. 

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

“You’re really mad about that, huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You were going to.”

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

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

You blink at his deflection.

What was that about? What is that look for? 

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

“Shopping.”

“Mmhmm.” 

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

And just like that, the conversation dies. 

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

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

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

Your noodles.

Your noodles. 

You’re not hungry anymore. 

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

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

A hand. 

A robed arm. 

Your new utensils come back into view. 

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

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

“Eat.” 

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

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

“You are.” 

“Not anymore.” 

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

The icy descent of his tone freezes your bones.

“Thought you of all people would hate that.” 

“I—I’m not—It’s not that—”

“Then eat.” 

“I literally can’t—” 

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“Don’t.” 

Both of you still at your words.

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

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

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

Yoongi looks pissed as hell. 

But he hasn’t moved. 

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

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

Fuck, you wanna hurl. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like I said.”

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

“It’s better in the long run.” 

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

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

Fucking hell, this sucks.

Frustration and exhaustion sting the corners of your eyes. 

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

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

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

“What were you looking for.” 

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

“Did you find it.” 

You swipe at both your eyes.

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

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

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

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

This man is more dangerous than you thought. 

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

“But I have what you want.” 

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

“If you stay, I’ll show you.” 

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

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

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

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

Good riddance.

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

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

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

Yearning pierces right through your chest. 

The elevator is right over there. 

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

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

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

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

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

Was that the elevator?

You cut the water off with a twist.

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

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

And your defense mechanism blares. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get. Your foot. Off my floor.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well. 

So much for leaving. 

You may spend more time here than you thought. 

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

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

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

Staying vigilant seems to be a little more important now. 

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

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

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

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

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

Interesting. “Does anyone else know about it—”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”

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

“You’re quiet with me.”

“And even then I get you to talk.”

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

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

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

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

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

That was so long ago. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you even drink?” 

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

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

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

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

“This sector?” 

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

“It’s usually silent, too.” 

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

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

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

He takes the offered can. “Mm.” 

That answers that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?” 

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

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

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

“I know.” 

Your look carries a slight pang. 

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

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

But when it’s open, you freeze. 

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

Wait. 

These patterns. 

These are il-don? 

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

You’ve never seen them like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We? Leave me out of this.”

“Too late.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What.

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

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

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

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

“Could’ve taken another train.” 

“Stop.”

“Could’ve stayed in that elevator.”

What the fuck is happening right now? 

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

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

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

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

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

“I should’ve left you for dead.” 

Wait. 

Stop. 

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead then.”

Oh, this man is psychotic.

“Be my guest.”

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

“If you regret it, why waste time—”

“Seriously, I’m not gonna—”

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

And it is frightening. 

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

“Why.”

“I’m not gonna shoot you, the fuck!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up—”

“But your will is weak.”

“I swear to—”

“Guess I was wrong.”

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

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

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

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

Quite literally, you’re the one on top.

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

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

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

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

And that alone alters the chemistry of your brain.

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my girl.” 

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

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

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

So you quell that monster pacing in your core. 

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

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

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

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

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

“This world has already tried enough.” 

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

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

You slightly turn. 

“You still want to go back?”

A pause. A nod.

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

Quite the opposite. And that scares you more. 

“If you do, you’re dead to me.”

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

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

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

“I know.” 

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

And you freeze. 

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

But fuck, you kinda want to. 

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

“What made you stay.”

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

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

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

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

“What a shame.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. You’re going home. 

Good.

This is good, right?

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

What was that? What was any of that? 

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

…But do you want it to be? 

Yes. 

Of course you do. 

Clouds let moonlight shine again. 

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

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

Whether awake or asleep, nightmares are real. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For nothing. 

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

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

What a shame, indeed.

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

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

Fuck everything. 

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

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

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

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

—

—

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

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

[n1daehodefender]

My Kang Dae-Ho dating hc’s!

pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x reader

Warnings: SFW and NSFW! so please dni if nsfw makes u uncomfortable:), talks about kids, period, period sex.

A/N: this is how I see the character! Also should I start taking requests?:) you can just ask what you’d want me to do and I’ll do it!!! Please I’m bored… also I love dae-ho

SFW

Growing up with 4 older sisters, Dae-Ho is naturally protective and thoughtful. He talks about wanting kids someday and gets a soft look in his eyes when he sees you playing with children

He’s extremely touchy, always wanting to hold your hand, cuddle or rest his head on your shoulder. His love language is physical touch, and he’s the happiest when he is close to you:)

Dae-Ho loves complimenting you, he’ll randomly say things like “how did I get so lucky” or “your breathtaking you know that?” He is so sincere that it never feels like a lie

He is definitely a golden retriever boyfriend!!

During arguments he would never and I mean NEVER hurt you in anyway- physically or verbally

he would be an amazing father, and imagine him as a girl dad

He loves to be the small spoon but doesn’t mind being the bigger spoon, he just loves it when he can bury his head to your chest and you run your hands through his hair and back

I don’t think he lets anyone else touch his hair except his mom, sisters and you. And he lets you always do hairstyles on him and use silly pins

He grew up with 4 older sisters so he would absolutely be the best Boyfriend when it came to your period. He knows exactly what tampons or pads you need, heating pads, snacks. He would give you space if you needed it but he’d absolutely love to hold you and if you had cramps he would rub your stomach while holding you

NSFW! (Please dni if this makes you uncomfortable!!!)

His hands are everywhere during sex- caressing your sides, gripping your thighs, running through your hair. He’s obsessed with touching you and making you feel loved during it

He wouldn’t leave marks or any bruises- he isn’t into any kind of thing during sex that would involve either of you getting hurt or being uncomfortable

He’s definitely a soft dom but wouldn’t mind being a sub

Dae-Ho is obsessed with the sounds you make, he’ll murmur “Let me hear you” and get visibly more turned on when you can’t hold hold back your moans

He has endless stamina- being an ex-marine, he can go for multiple rounds

For him sex isn’t just physical- it’s emotional. He pours all of his love and devotion into every touch and kiss.

I think he would be loud but not too loud- he’d moan and whimper but it wouldn’t be like extremely loud

His favourite positions would be either missionary, cowgirl or the butterfly because seeing your face and reactions is a must for him

He would want you guys to have a safe word

He would always make sure your okay during it and if you’d show any sign of being uncomfortable or in pain he would instantly stop and ask if your okay and if you want to stop

Slow and steady, he can go fast if you want him to but he likes to take his time

HAIR PULLING!!! Please tug his hair a little it turns him on definitely- but I don’t think he’d tug your hair since he is afraid he’d accidentally hurt you

I think he’d be open to having period sex as long as you’re okay with it because he just wants you to feel good during your period if your cramps are bad:(

Aftercare king! Dae-Ho is big on aftercare. He’ll clean you up, get you water, and pull you into his arms. He loves holding you after sex. Stroking your hair as you fall back to sleep

eye contact during it!

[arouravis]

✳︎ 𝟶𝟷 𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚈 𝙾𝙱𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 : 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎! 

✦ note: this is my first ever astrology blog post. I'm so excited to see where this goes!

𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙹𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛:

having this placement is truly a blessing. Usually, this placement (if not within a tighter orb) tends to develop later in life. Or tends to be something deep and unconscious that isn’t unlocked until you do deep introspection on the self.

The tendency to bounce back through whatever situation and try and see the brighter side in things really helps. Tendency to be “too” optimistic at times. With this placement, make sure to think before speaking regarding certain situations. Sometimes, people don’t want to see the light at the end of the tunnel immediately.

Naturally artistically inclined, very polite people to a fault. Tends to have a type of elegancy and refinement to their artwork. Or if not, their artwork gives the viewer deep introspection. Truly a great aspect to have in the natal chart!!

𝙰𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗:

GAGGELERS!! Very giggly, and have a face that replicates the Sun. Ex: Kamala Harris!

Very full face with a wonderful smile. Great friends to have, and I have a special place in my heart for these people. Genuinely, whenever they smile, I just get so soft like… the world is so cruel to my Aries moon babies PLEASE KEEP SMILING!!

Compared to an Aries Mars, these people tend to be more snappy/easily irritated and easier to handle regarding anger imo. Usually, the type of people to laugh off their frustration/anger with friends.

Ambiverts that lean more towards being introverted. The type to go completely non-verbal and then just giggle out of nowhere. Ex: Mort from Madagascar

They DONT play about their loved ones and will vouch for them no matter the situation. They can either be loud and wrong or loud and right!

It’s so sad to me because these people usually have so much warmth and light inside of them. But that light tends to be dim or completely put out due to mental issues/family behavior.

I LOVE ARIES MOONS!!

𝙼𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚜:

GET UP! Get up right now and get off of TikTok and whatever you use to doom scroll, and do what the hell you need to do. If it weren’t for my low attention span, I’d probably be Albert Einstein right about now. Procrastination WARRIORS!

Read, write, learn, and speak! These things truly help you out in the long run. For the mind, body, and spirit.

I will speak to you until you fall asleep, and I will stay up several hours later whilst everyone else is asleep. I believe people who have mutable moons (specifically speaking for a Gemini moon), have the love of staying up till the dawn of time. Sometimes, their minds are so busy from whatever they need to accomplish in the day, that their only time of solace and relaxation can be in the night.

It’ll be to the point where they want to stay up but yearn to fall asleep. But they wanna catch up on a book/music/social media that they potentially missed out on. I get it, and I see you, but please. Lay tf down, create a routine, and seize the day!

𝙻𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚜:

people pleasers to a fault. But once they’ve jumped over that hurdle, they can be a beast. They don’t play about their boundaries nor their mental health. Can tend to be selfish, tho.

Speaking of people-pleasing, these people love giving out compliments! I believe they have a telepathic chip in their brain that lets them notice people's emotions, and they wanna help brighten their day! There’s an integral pleasure they get from making people's day better.

The type of waiter/waitress to get HELLA tips/ a star performer within the arts or things regarding community.

𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚄𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚜:

very, very, very sleepy people. They can sleep anywhere, anytime, in any weather. They could sleep on top of a cement truck in the middle of Times Square with EASE and poise. Very forgetful individuals, and they genuinely can’t help it. Their minds are always somewhere… else. When they’re not sleeping on I-97, they are UP, energetic, and ready to go.

If they don’t have any strong mercury placements/well-aspected planets in mercurial houses. They can come off as a ditz, dumb blonde- you get it. Even if they do, they may seem dumb, but are incredibly smart and will use that to their advantage.

They are the grandparent of the friend group, literally. If they’re not sleeping, they aren’t the type of people to not be enveloped in social media that much, so they tend to be out of the loop on major pop culture trends/slang. And you’ll have to keep them up to speed like you’re teaching your meemaw how to start the microwave. Very sleepy/dream-like faces and very soft smiles that can make you melt <3 Love them, tho!

𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚁𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:

I'm sorry not to be rude, but you guys do not listen to a single thing anyone says lol. It's like you're in your own mini world at times, and it can be frustrating/upsetting when someone is trying to tell you something that you genuinely don't seem to care at all. You're aware of it, and you don't care to change, but if someone does it to you, you'll throw a fit, make it make sense :/

On a lighter note! Very, very funny people who have an adaptable sense of humor and are very easy conversationalists, which is something I really enjoy. These people, if having any other mercurial placements can talk for hours! Until they zone out completely and fall asleep, lmao.

✦ arouravis

[verstappen-cult]

PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.

However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.

Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.

"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.

Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.

"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."

Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.

Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.

"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.

His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.

Max likes it when you praise him during sex.

Especially when he surrenders himself to you.

"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.

You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.

“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.

You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.

Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.

He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.

Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.

“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”

You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.

“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”

You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.

“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.

“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.

“What do you need?”

“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”

“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.

His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.

“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.

You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.

Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.

You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.

And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.

You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.

You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.

“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”

You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.

Max is mesmerized by the view.

And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.

“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.

He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.

His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.

Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.

Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.

“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”

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