#Not if you just kept it in bags the whole time

[sim0nril3y]

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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After an incident in your home you made the decision to move in together. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), very soft, talk of break-in, canon-typical swearing.

It was late evening, Simon had just gotten home himself from meeting with Price and Gaz, they met up and caught up on everything they’d missed in each other’s lives. He still couldn’t bring himself to speak about you in front of them, still wanting to keep you a secret, keep you safe from any parts of his life that could put you in danger. He’d kept quiet even when Price spoke about some pretty thing he’d been seeing and when Gaz brought up the posh bird he'd met at a wedding.

He'd asked for you to call when you got home from work, his phone buzzing as he entered his home caught his attention. Smiling, answering and bringing it up to his ear as he asked. “Get home alright-” The words died in his throat as he heard the sounds of your little hiccups and sobs. “What’s happened? Where are you?” As soon as Simon had entered his home, he’d walked straight back out of it in the direction of his car. “I’m on my way…”

The story was that your flat had been broken into whilst you’d been out at work. The place had been completely ransacked, anything valuable was gone, mostly everything else was trashed and destroyed. The lock on the door was completely busted now and ultimately you just felt vulnerable in your own space, it simply didn’t feel safe anymore.

The whole journey to your block of flats Simon was cursing himself. The one night that he didn’t come pick you up from work, the one night he was busy and focusing on himself you’d fucking needed him, you’d been sacred and alone and come back to your flat to find the door kicked open and worried that whoever had gotten in there might still be in there.

He took the stairs to the flat block two or three at a time, chasing up them to get to you. Everyone in the block seemed to be stirring from the police being on the scene, all out to watch this all unfold. You’d been standing outside of your flat allowing the police to look around the small space inside, searching for anything that might have been left behind in the wake of the chaos that had happened inside. Simon approached and wrapped his strong arms around your trembling form, pulling you into his chest and kissing your forehead as he muttered. “I’m here… I’m here…”

He calmed you. He coaxed you into his arms. He silently seethed about whatever little prick had let themselves into your home, your sanctuary and made their way off with your things, your personal items. Simon would hunt them down given the chance but now wasn’t the time to be raging, all his energy needed to be focused on you. “I know, babe. I know.” He muttered quietly, pulled into his arms, warm and safe in his embrace.

Soon enough the police were done, they advised strongly to stay elsewhere for the night, with a busted door and the place already targeted it was more vulnerable than ever. Simon was collecting some of your clothes into a bag whilst you wandered aimlessly around the rest of the small home, pausing for a long moment at your art supplies, kneeling down to inspect the canvas’. It hurt to see them trampled and discarded like this, just completely destroyed by some heartless thug.

“Y’okay?” The small voice of Simon came from behind you, glancing over your shoulder in his direction. You certainly didn’t look alright, you look so vulnerable, so betrayed in your own place. “I know…” He muttered gently, moving towards you to gently kneel down beside you and look at your canvas. “You’ll make better-”

You mentioned. “I’m too tired to do this.” And he understood, you’d just come home from work to find this horrific event had happened. It wasn’t fair and you didn’t need to process these emotions right now. No, right now, he just needed to get you someplace safe where you could rest your head for a few hours and deal with everything else in the morning.

Following that incident it didn’t take long for the two of you to come to the decision that moving in together would be for the best. Honestly, he thought he’d have a little more difficulty taking that step, but with all that had happened the idea of having you live under the same roof as him, having you around all the time, waking up together, simply knowing that you were safe filled him with this sense of relief and completion.

Everything was set into motion from then, you took to cancelling your tenancy on the flat and the process to move you into Simon’s home was put into effect. With all that was left in your flat it didn’t take much to box up all the remaining furniture and items, three or four trips back and forth from the flat to the house was all it took to move everything over. That was it settled; you were living together.

Simon was holding a box labelled ‘art supplies’ stepping past you to head upstairs. “You can just put it in the garage.” You suggested, after having most of your art destroyed the appeal to make anything new wasn’t inside of you, unsure if it was temporary or permanent you boxed your things away for now to deal with at a later time. “S’alright…” He mentioned, continuing to stomp upstairs. “I’ll put it in your art room.” He commented, now this was enough to make your brow furrow.

“What?” You then proceeded to chase upstairs behind him, following him into the spare room and coming to a stop to see Simon had kitted it out with all the supplies that had been destroyed in the break-in, even a new easel facing to look out the window into the beautiful back garden scenery. “This… is for me?”

It had been something that Simon had noticed that you’d been lacking expressing yourself creatively, usually he’d find you holed up creating something new, or working on an old piece… but since the break-in you’d been almost avoiding it. Placing down the box in his hands he replied. “Well, yeah… you don’t think it’s all for me, do ya?” He asked with a raised brow looking at you, a teasing tone to his voice which made you smile subtly. “Can’t put this stuff in the garage, anyway, got my weights down there.” He informed you with a non-committal shrug.

You watched him for a moment before rushing over and wrapping your arms around him, hugging onto him as tight as you could manage. Simon hugged your back, placing a hand on the back of your head and rubbing your back in a soothing way. “Thank you.” You mumbled into his throat. There was so much that you were thankful to him for but allowing you the space to find that creative side to yourself again was something you’d be eternally grateful to him for. “Thank you.”

“S’alright, babe.” Simon replied, kissing the top of your head and holding you securely in his arms. “You’re safe now.” He muttered, probably more to himself that even you. “You’re home.”

Masterlist | Ask | 20-01-2025

[mattsbows]

surfer!chris. . .meets you

chris was flying down the curvy roads of kauai, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel to “walking on a dream” by empire of the sun. he was careless and worry free like always, a distinct change to his personality after moving to hawaii. the smell of salt water, coconut, and sunscreen wafted through the doors of his open air jeep, reminding him just how much he loved living on this island. he was pretty sure he could stay here forever and never tire of it. it didn’t matter how many times he drove by the endless palm trees that lined the road or the quaint acai bowl stand on the left. 

as he drove, chris thought about how he had gotten here. just one year ago he had been a burnt out content creator, struggling to thrive in the oversaturated market that was modern youtube. eventually, he’d given up on the dream, making one last “goodbye” video for his subscribers, packing his bags, and getting the hell out of LA. 

being a lifeguard wasn’t what he had planned, but when his brothers matt and nick had invited him on a trip to hawaii as a way to cool his head, he’d fallen in love with the islands and just never left. it wasn’t exactly the most well paying job, but it was work regardless and it left him with plenty of time to do the activity that had kept him here anyway: surfing. it didn’t matter that his bank account had taken a significant hit since his content creation days. he was happy, and that was that. 

sure, it wasn’t a particularly glamorous lifestyle, but he had money for groceries, gas for his jeep, and rent for his small, beachy apartment. saving people’s lives should’ve earned him a little more than $15 an hour, but money was money. 

chris’ tank top blew in the wind as he hit the gas pedal. the fabric was becoming more wrinkled by the second, but he didn’t care. he rarely work more than a pair of swim trunks at work anyway, allowing him to earn a nice tan that definitely boosted his ego.  

everything was fine. better than fine, actually. he was mellowed out, now on island time. life was peaceful, even right now as he drove to work. that changed, however, when he saw you run out in the road, forcing him to slam on the brakes. 

“kid, what the hell are you doing?” chris cursed. 

“sorry!” you yelped, turning to face him. “there was just this really pretty butterfly and-”

“let me get this straight,” he said, leaning around the side of the jeep. “you ran out in the road for a butterfly?”

you nodded meekly, the way this unfamiliar boy said it making you realize how reckless your choice had been. you were taken aback though by the way he looked at you. there was a smirk on his tanned, freckled face, clearly an indicator of how comical he found the situation. it was stupid, really. you knew that, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to wipe that smirk off of his maybe, slightly, possibly gorgeous face. 

“you could’ve gone around me,” you stated with a shrug, trying to make the butterflies in your stomach not show on your face. “that was an option, y’know.”

chris rolled his eyes. you couldn’t be serious. you had to be joking. thankfully, you were a good actor because he seemed to believe that you weren’t. he simply rolled his eyes, climbing back into the jeep and smirking at you once more as he restarted the engine. you were pretty, there was no denying it, but chris wouldn’t let you know that.

“try not to get hit again.” he yelled at you as he sped by. 

and that was how your first, and definitely not last, interaction with the surfer had played out.

a note from the author: surfer!chris has my whole heart and soul. hope this helps ❤️ enjoy!!

❁ tags: @mattsdemi @purpledragon222 @slxtarchive @natashad0627 @quinnysnursery @tyummyz @colorthecosmos444 @lockettesstage @mattyblover07 @marrykisskilled @beautyloves @nicksbestie @mrsarnold @st7rnioioss @sturn777 @sophand4n4 @mattsdolll @lottieluhvs @reidshearts @sturns-mermaid @lovergirl4gracieabrams @emely9274 @blahbel668 @khlolovessturn @ncm9696 @raesalvatore @sturniololuv08 @sturniolosymphony @eternaldesi @irene-martinez777 @mamamadssss @sofieeeeex @courta13 @blushsturns

[thequeenofcurses]

Where You Left Me

summary: based off this post by @yeagersss Zombie AU. Sukuna x f!Reader (part 1??) wk: 850 tw: uh zombie stuff and people dying/violence ig. smut later maybe? sry I'm not good a tws

Sukuna’s heavy black boots hit the ground with a crunch, as he stomped on a skin bag. It’s brains sticking to his heel. The smell of the flesh rotting filled his nose. He wiped his feet and searched the corpse for anything useful. Nothing. Damn it. 

The air was thick with decay, and flies buzzed around the corpses littering the ground. The faint rustle of leaves in the wind kept him on edge—it could be nothing or something far worse

CLICK! CLACK!

Another zombie appeared behind him. And then another. And another. “Tch,” he shook his head. Where the hell do these things keep coming from? His group cleared this area days ago. “Let’s dance dead fucker,” he said with a cocky smile. 

He pulls out his machete from his side pocket, turns, and immediately lobotomizes the closest zombie. The next two take an off angle, walking at him from both his front and back. Making a quick decision, Sukuna kicks the front walker with powerful force, causing it to fall backward.

He raised his machete just in time as a shadow darted to his left. A decayed hand shot out, fingers clawing at his boot. With a growl, he stomped hard, the sickening crunch of bone echoing through the air.

Now, a one v one, Sukuna takes on the zombie at his back. The rotten skin bag throws its arms forward, desperately trying to get a grip to bite him. Effortlessly dodging, Sukuna ducks, left, right, then uppercuts the zombie with his machete. One left. It was still on the ground, barely managing to crawl forward at him. Its decaying teeth rattled as they chomped and clicked up and down, wanting a bite of his flesh. “Die you ugly thing,” Sukuna commanded as he stepped on its neck. Just to be safe, he sliced at its head, destroying its brain.

"Y/n," he growled under his breath, scanning the area. His chest tightened as he glanced over his shoulder, his grip on the machete tightening. Where the hell are you?

You were supposed to be watching his exit, yet somehow three lamebrains managed to get in behind him.

Sukuna lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he sees you.

He didn’t understand why his chest felt lighter when he saw you running toward him, dirt and blood covering your hands. Relief wasn’t something he allowed himself to often feel, but here it was, twisting inside him. It infuriated him how easily you could be taken from him, how little control he had in this godforsaken world.

“Sorry,” you panted heavily, running up to his side. Your hands were covered in dirt and dry blood. “I was dealing with some walkers outside and a few managed to get by me. I’m sorry.”

He nods and shrugs off your apology. “I’m fine,” he affirms. He wipes off the blood on the walker's clothes and holsters his machete back at his side. “You alright?” You don’t notice it, but Sukuna’s eyes scan your whole body, checking for injuries.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “I didn’t think there’d be so many stragglers here so soon.”

“Where’s Sora?” he questioned. It was his damn idea for us to come out here again. “I don’t know how much longer we should—”

“Foun' 'em!” Sora chirped, his accent grating on Sukuna’s nerves. “Cheers for havin’ me back!” He stuffed the books into his bag, and Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. Too quick, too suspicious. “With these books, we'll surely boost our farm at the camp, so we might even whip up a bit o' medicine!” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he waved him off. “I still want those extra food rations for this.”

“Got it, lad,” Sora confirmed. “Ye two 'ave been a grand help in our group, so ye have.” With that, Sora finished gathering all his items and zipped up his bag. “Let’s head on back?” Taking point, Sora leads the long walk back to camp, with you and Sukuna following a few feet behind together. 

In actuality, Sukuna walked a half-step behind you, scanning the trees for movement. His machete stayed within reach, even though the area seemed quiet. Just in case.

You walk side by side with the tall tattooed man who once intimidated you. Now, you can’t imagine ever leaving his side.  “What were you trying to tell me earlier?” You remember his early statement which got cut off. 

“Tell ya later,” he gruffly responds. You see his eyes staring at Sora’s back.

“Okay,” you acknowledged. We don’t have secrets, he pondered. She’ll get the hint. The rest of the walk back, Sukuna made sure you stayed hydrated. It was only a two-hour-and-a-half journey, but anything can happen or go to shit immediately in this cursed world.

You were the only thing he had left in his life, and he’ll be damned if he lets you get taken from him. As annoying as Sora’s accent was, he preferred hearing him yap over the new quietude. 

The quiet unsettled him. In this world, silence was never a gift; it was a warning.

[bellamoooon]

A/N: So…Patrick’s sister, this was supposed to be shorter but I uh…I got carried away, enjoy anyway!! <33

As patricks sister, you always understood the dynamic; Patrick is the overprotective annoying older brother and you are the nerdy—he says— younger sister.

So obviously, growing up with him was an interesting experience to say the least.

Before going to MRTA, he’d usually bring his friends over after school, and of course you being the pretty little thing you are, they’d always joke around about how Patrick’s sister was hot, (literally average twelve year old when they see any female) and well Patrick, Patrick was pissed, so this is when the golden rule—he calls it— came in.

Patrick’s sister is off-limits.

Which eventually stopped being a big deal when he left for MRTA, since you’d only see him for holidays and breaks, and you didn’t really get to meet any of his friends.

Then Art comes into Patrick’s life; Bunkmates since they were twelve, both in their first year away from home.

For the first summer break, Patrick left to go to your family’s lake house with you and your parents, and Art went back home to visit his nana, he knew his parents would most likely be away working—as per usual.

But he actually finds out that his nana had already been sent to a retirement home 15 minutes out of his home town, so he visited every couple of days during that summer even though his nana kept telling him, “Artie, you don’t have to visit an antique like me, go be a kid, enjoy your summer” however he insisted in staying around her to keep company.

So when they get back, Patrick “loud mouth” Zweig rants to Art about his summer, and Art simply nods thinking about how he’d most likely stay in the academy next summer, not like he had much to go back to at home.

Fast forward a couple of months, it’s Christmas; Art is helping Patrick pack last minute when there’s a knock at the door, then they hear a feminine voice.

“Come on dickwad, mom and dad are waiting in the car”

Patrick groaned as he started to shove his things into his bag, then looking back at art as he folded some of Patrick’s shirts.

“Hey, Donaldson, mind getting the door? It’s my fuck ass sister” he said casually as he grabbed the shirts from Art.

“Sure” Art mumbled not thinking much, only trying to imagine a female Patrick behind the door, seeing as he’s never met you, so there he goes, he opens the door and finds—not a female Patrick— but the prettiest girl he’d seen just standings there in the most angelic way.

“Hey…?”

“Art, it’s uh— my name is Art” he’s stumbling over his own words in the stupidest way possible.

“What kind of name is Art? Are you like an Arthur or something?” He cringes internally but before he can answer Patrick pushes past him.

“It’s just Art, leave him alone, he’s my best friend, only I can make fun of him, find one yourself, kid” Patrick speaks as he walks out the door with his things then turns to Art, “going home for Christmas, Donny?”

Art despised that nickname, the tips of his ears went red as his whole face flushed, but he shook his head.

“My parents said they won’t be able to make for Christmas and I— I don’t want to worry my nana so…” he said shyly and a bit disappointed but, they were the same parents that had forgotten his birthday a year ago and days later brought a cake that said “happy 14th birthday” when he was turning 12.

“Awe…that sucks man, I’ll talk to my parents, you can tag along with us to our lake house next summer”

And that’s how the tradition all started, every summer, Art would spend it with Patrick’s parents, you and Patrick at the lake house, which gave him enough time to catch a little something his nana called a Lovebug, essentially, his was crushing hard.

But of course, there was the golden rule— totally off-limits.

And Art was…fine with it, it’s not like you’d ever like him back, he was probably just “Patrick’s quiet best friend” to you.

Little did he know…

Then fast forward a couple years later, coincidentally, you would also be going to Stanford without actually knowing Art had already been there for a year.

And Stanford was full of frat parties, Halloween costume parties and in general, any party within a 10 mile radius.

And you, pretty little freshman had been invited to a frat party by one of the juniors in your econ class, and I mean, you can’t be rude, right? You have to go.

So, you do.

You wind up in a frat house with a shit ton of people, some cigarette smoke and, a whole bunch of red disposable cups, so why not grab one, what’s the worst thing it could have in it, beer probably?

Wrong.

Something that to you tasted exactly what rubbing alcohol smelled like, so it goes straight from the cup to your mouth then back to the cup as you cringe letting out a single dry cough.

“You alright there?” A gentle voice popped up from behind you, familiar but you couldn’t quite tell, but as you turn there he is; Art fucking Donaldson. With a backwards red Stanford cap and a grey Stanford hoodie.

Oh.

“Oh— Art…hey” you chuckle softly still smelling the mysterious alcohol from your mouth.

“This isn’t quite your scene, huh?” He spoke as he took a sip from his cup with that goddamn side smirk of his.

“Yeah— no, I mean, I’ve been to parties, fun, fun parties. And this, this is so my scene” you rambled nervously, it was already embarrassing enough you, a freshman was at a frat party with a pretty floral skirt and a crochet sweater.

“Really? Oh…then have fun, fun girl” he laughed as he lifted his cup a bit towards you to then walk away.

Fuck it. You were gonna get wasted.

And so, that you did; Somehow ending up in just a soaked tank top, a soaked skirt, hair dripping water and, squeaky wet shoes as you stumbled out of the pool from the backyard.

“Hey, watch it—“ Art turned as he felt your body bump against his, “oh it’s you, fun girl.” He giggled as he saw you, clearly too drunk to even know what was going on, and he could’ve just laugh it off and get back to the party, but Art wasn’t like that, and specially not to you, you’re such a pretty little thing all wasted and soaked past midnight, plus, you were Patrick’s sister. He had to.

So he said his goodbyes and grabbed you as you both walked out of the frat to go back to campus.

“So tell me, miss Zweig, how does one, as drunk as you, not drown in a pool?” He said as he saw you hold onto his arm for dear life trying not to trip, which might have just dug up something he had buried years ago.

“Y’know, im fun, and this is so my people” you said looking up at him—just barely— as you let out a hiccup.

He blushed as he heard it, clearly it was your first time getting drunk drunk, adding on to the wet hair and your shivering body,

“Right, fun girl, my bad” he chuckled “come on you’re shivering, here” he pulled his hoodie off as he handed it to you, “can’t let you catch a cold, how else will you go to your next party, miss fun girl”

“Thank you, Artie.” You said as you grabbed the hoodie sliding it over your head feeling the warmth it carried from Arts body, accompanied by the faint smell of his cologne.

Meanwhile, Art was feeling like his spine had just been ripped out; Artie.

You hadn’t called him that since the summers at the lake house, where he had attempted and failed to forget his crush on you.

“Yeah— I uh…yeah” he blushed even harder as he fumbled his words not knowing how to react.

You just shut your eyes and breathed in the scent of his cologne to then open them up, there you were, doe eyed looking at him, in his hoodie, hair soaked as you unconsciously made it harder for him to be a good friend to Patrick, he felt horrible.

Not only did the disgusting thought of wanting to fuck you against his jeep popped into his head, this is Patrick’s sister he’s fantasizing about.

“Come on— I uh, I gotta get you back on campus” he cleared his throat as he looked away avoiding your stare.

“You’re no fun anymore, Artie…” a pout made itself present as you took a step closer, your hands landing on his shoulders, “come on, Donny…”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Patrick would kill me, you know that.”

“I won’t tell”

He wasn’t proud of himself for turning back to look at you, but you were just so pretty, lucky he didn’t have a boner, if he hadn’t given you the hoodie to cover your very visible nipples against the tank top, he’d probably have you bent over his cars hood.

“I really— I can’t…” he mumbled, his face inches away from yours, noses brushing against each other.

“You sure?” You whispered as you stared down at his lips, “not just this once?”

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, well…there goes his willpower, he was in too deep already.

Next thing he knows, you’re riding him in the backseat of his car, all flushed, tits out, him whimpering as he dug his fingers into your hips holding on for dear life throwing his head back, and windows all fogged up.

Yeah, he was so screwed.

He will most definitely be breaking the golden rule for…well, let’s just say it’s not a one time thing.

[minkieater]

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

FIVE ➺ the friendsgiving

masterlist

thanksgiving is about expressing gratitude for what you have, who you love, all of the blessings in your life that make it worth living. friendsgiving was a tradition to your group, a time to be together, to celebrate one another and cherish the bond you’d made over the years — does choi san want to be included, or change the meaning of friendsgiving for the rest of your lives?

w. angst, shit show below the cut good luck! also weed lol 7.3k

jeongin’s apartment was spacious, that much was clear — but fitting fourteen people in one place for a sit down dinner deemed itself near impossible. you’d done it last year, but you only had ten compared to this year’s addition, four extra people that you had invited. 

yunho, his girlfriend and wooyoung who insisted he bring san, despite your argument. he yelled he’s so miserable he needs to be surrounded by people over the phone and you argued, saying he didn’t look too miserable in my apartment the other day, but wooyoung insisted, fuck the logic of it all. you agreed after a moment of silence — everyone could act like adults for a couple hours, right?

the tree lighting ceremony which you attended after dinner was the real celebration anyways, friendsgiving was just the pregame. being on november twenty ninth, it was after thanksgiving yet far before christmas, a night that held the beloved tradition you’d created amongst the ten of you. for you and jeongin especially, but also for you, riley, and the other seven boys you’d grown to look at like siblings over the past three years. 

last year it was hectic, especially trying to get anyone to try and cook in the massive kitchen of the loft. you and riley attempted a turkey even though the two of you had never cooked one – riley just helped her dad who reigned the kitchen all her life and your mother had kept herself in the kitchen for hours ignoring anyone’s attempt to help your whole life — just like she did with everything. always to herself, worried only about herself, not a single care for anyone around her, even her family. 

you had no idea what it took to roast a turkey. you’d read tons of recipes, watched youtube videos, last year you really thought you had it in the bag. that was until you realized you hadn’t thawed the turkey properly… it did not cook in time for dinner, and you were not missing the tree lighting ceremony. you all feasted on side dishes instead, store bought and handmade (thanks to hyunjin and changbin), you had a plethora of options spread out across the entire kitchen and living room. 

the tradition of the tree lighting ceremony was a big deal for your group. riley and chan hated the entire idea when it was initially discussed, the crowd, the volume, just being in manhattan in general — with the rest of you besides felix begging the two to go the next year, for the ceremony to be the one thing they bend their rules for, they agreed. they found it heartwarming after some thought to have something so special, an entire event just for your friend group, to celebrate your years of friendship despite the discomfort of it all. plus… yours and jeongin’s anniversary, the place where you’d started dating, the event that he asked you to be his girlfriend at two years ago.

you should be ecstatic, filled to the brim with excitement to spend today with your closest friends, your boyfriend. there was christmas music playing throughout the apartment, the four roommates had decorated the space with snowmen and fairy lights and mistletoe, the apartment was filled with every holiday-induced feeling: joy, love, laughter filling the air. this holiday was huge for you and your friend group, the most special one of them all, yet one issue stood tall for you. there was a massive elephant in the room and it was not the lifesize reindeer chan bought from an estate sale months ago. 

you and jeongin weren’t exactly on good terms but you weren’t necessarily on bad terms, either. you hated gray, you hated in between, you hated whatever the fuck was between you right now. when you arrived, you’d received a happy two years with a kiss on the cheek, but no longer than a second of eye contact, no hug, no smile. you’d left last night after hours spent groveling damn near at his feet, begging for forgiveness for not putting him first, swearing to him that you’d change. he forgave you, but how much can be done with any actual proof of your efforts – any action?

only time would tell, and the real issue still stood – the one place where you couldn’t agree. in hindsight, it really was simple – but mingi’s words sat heavily in the back of your head. 

you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.

the words rang in your head like a catchy commercial, a sing-song of dread that wrapped around your head like the soundtrack to a carousel. you agreed with him, it made sense – if jeongin doesn’t understand your schedule now, it will only get worse, if he can’t put himself in your shoes then why would you give him any more pieces of you? why are you beating around the bush if he’s not in it until the end, he said he wanted to marry you – but he can’t handle your schedule? the schedule that will just only get worse? mingi said it, hongjoong said it, it had to be the truth, coming from two people who have experienced this already. 

does he listen to your songs, give you advice, tell you how good he thinks you are? did he push you to get an internship? does he give you advice about your schoolwork? does he even know you’re falling behind in school?

you still couldn’t see it clearly, this wasn’t black and white. the gray area you hated so much was how much you love him, how you know every single part of jeongin that makes him himself, every trait you’ve spent the past two years falling in love with. he knows the same about you, he’s your other half – and you’re arguing about a fucking schedule change? mingi said it himself, you spent too much time at the label already, you need to create boundaries. these people are your life, your best friends, your family… how are you going to give that up? it was fucking war in your mind. 

“girl, you haven’t stirred the potatoes in at least three minutes, what’s good with you?” han came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, putting his hands over yours that held the wooden spoon and the bowl, beckoning you to relax.

“jesus, ki, it’s not going to run away from you,” he continued, loosening up your fingers’ grip on the spoon. you let go of both the bowl and the spoon, then quickly wiped your hands on the bright pink apron you found in the pantry – felix’s.

“i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you shook your head, shaking him off of you, letting a controlled breath out from deep in your lungs. you didn’t know how long you were standing there, staring straight ahead, tight grip on the utensil. 

“you okay?” he asked as you both turned to face each other, he moved to your side with his eyebrows furrowed, big doe eyes staring at you with concern. 

“i’m fine,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, definitely not a convincing one, you hoped he didn’t notice. you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, letting out a forced chuckle, “no biggie, don’t worry. i’m just in my head.”

“i heard about you and jeongin,” han frowns, leaning his hip against the counter – there was fortunately no one else in the kitchen, everyone dispersed throughout the apartment, maybe out smoking on the rooftop. 

“word travels fast, huh?” you gave another forced smile, turning your attention back to the potatoes, grabbing the spoon to keep stirring. it was a clear display of disinterest in the topic at hand, you hoped he’d drop it, but knowing him – he did not. 

“with us? yeah,” he paused, racking his brain to figure out how to articulate himself properly, “i don’t think you guys have ever fought like this, but me and minho went through something similar the first time he had intensives – he was so exhausted he barely had time for me for a month, i nearly lost my fucking mind.”

you watched as tattooed fingers grip around the spoon a little harder, white knuckles a hard contrast against the deep wood, the digits not seeming much like yours anymore. “hanji, no offense but this is the last thing i want to hear–”

“you didn’t let me finish,” he put a hand on your shoulder, and your neck craned to see him, keeping your body facing the bowl. he had a weak smile, his eyes still filled with uncertainty, maybe a bit of apprehension as he spoke. “i expressed my concern and he changed. he made the time, when intensives were over he made sure to spend almost an entire week with me, nearly uninterrupted.”

a pit grew in your stomach, white hot rage bubbling up inside of you, “isn’t that beautiful? how kind he is to you, jisung.” sarcasm dripped from your words, a fake smile sitting on your cheeks, you could feel your ears turning red – somehow you gripped the spoon harder, wood threatening to snap under your grip. 

“he fucking loves you, dude, he’s told us too many times, too many drunken nights spent up there saying i love ki i’m going to marry her,” han shrugged, turning away from you, walking around the marble island with his eyes trained on yours. last christmas flowed through the kitchen, the sweet melody of the song a harsh contradiction to the rage that consumed you, the song somehow making you angrier. 

you continued stirring the side dish again, whipping the potatoes a little too aggressively as your blood pumped in your ears, “did he send you here to talk to me or something?”

“no, god no,” han shook his head, standing across from you, both of his arms stretched out across the island, leveling him as he stood at the counter that came just above his hips. 

you snapped – you think it would’ve been better if jeongin had sent him. “so you’re just sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?” your tone was just as harsh as your words – you could see han’s face twinge, his eyebrows shoot up, his lips parting to speak. you cut him off. “did he tell you he threatened to break up with me because i’m not sleeping with him enough?”

han stayed silent, shaking his head back and forth, those big doe eyes full of shock – you’ve never snapped at any of them before, never spoken with such anger. you needed air. 

you took a breath before you spoke, calming your tone to ease both han and yourself, “i’m glad minho made you feel better and made more time for you after his intensives but my job is a little bit different,” you made a pinching motion with your fingers on your free hand, “i’m in a transitional period, that’s all. trying to figure out time for school and myself and jeongin, it’ll get better, we won’t break up. don’t worry.”

han nodded, not giving you much of a verbal answer, his eyes still full of worry and surprise. your head sank with your eyes shut tight, your patience was running thin – you were tired of talking about this, with jeongin, with riley, with mingi – now han? you dropped the spoon, let go of the bowl, then wiped your hands on your apron again. 

“i’m sorry for snapping, hanji, i’m just stressed,” your words were choked, hands reaching to cup your makeup-covered cheeks, praying your cold palms would cool down the heat in your face. you left the kitchen in a hurry, not waiting for his answer, ignoring everyone in the living room, making a beeline for the back door. you raced up the steps to the rooftop, the cold november air slapping you across the face, pulling your anger from deep in your core right to the surface. 

“you alright?” riley was quick to approach you, feet skipping in your direction from where she stood along the rooftop with chan, hyunjin and changbin. the white in her eyes had turned red, they were smaller, glossed over — they were definitely smoking. 

you let the door shut behind you, letting your head fall back against the metal, letting a breath out from deep in your lungs. you were tired of this topic of conversation – jeongin wasn’t even around and you were still discussing the status of your relationship. tears quickly stemmed, traveling to the front of your face with a passion, dancing along your waterline. 

“oh shit, what the hell happened? jeongin?” she asked, hands on your biceps with a concerned look, small eyes wide, searching yours for an answer. you lifted your index fingers under your eyes, trying to stop the tears from ruining your makeup, you didn’t need everyone to know what you were doing up here. you didn’t answer, you focused on steadying your breathing, trying to stop the breakdown before it really started. 

you took another deep breath before answering, “i just snapped at hanji  in the kitchen, he was talking to me about jeongin.” 

the confession only made the tears fall quicker, they piled over your waterline, over your fingers, skipping over your digits and onto the ground beneath you. you tried not to cry cry, letting the tears fall but you kept your breathing steady, fighting not to break into a full out sob. 

“why was he giving his two cents on your relationship?” riley scrunched up her face, rubbing your arms, “that’s not his place, your snap was valid.”

you bent forward, hands braced on your knees, keeping your face level to the ground – if tears were going to fall, better they fall directly to the ground. 

“fuck,” you cursed under your breath, “i’m so over it, ri.”

riley moved to your side, her back against the door, rubbing small circles on your back. “you’re under a lot of stress dude, that’s perfectly understandable. you talked to jeongin at all today?”

you shook your head, “he kissed my cheek when i got here and said happy anniversary, but he’s been drinking with san and minho and the rest of them in the living room since.”

riley sucked in a breath through her teeth. “we’re both in trouble today,” her words were quiet, almost under her breath, no doubt so chan couldn’t hear. you took a pause, thinking about her words, then a laugh escaped your lips. 

you both paused for a moment and you turned your head to look up to her, the both of you falling into giggles. you were in this together, in more ways than she knew. 

christmas music continued to fill the air of the apartment, the lingering stench of skunk from your clothes mixed with the smell of the stuffed turkey cooking in the oven, you were feeling a million times better. chan approached you apprehensively on the rooftop, the joint in his hand, a peace offering to show you he wasn’t on either side nor in the middle. no, chan was a friend, and you needed as many of those as you could get right now. you took a hit to relax you, the weed filling your lungs was much better than the breaths you were forcing, the brief high grounded you. 

you were able to head back to the kitchen, tears long gone, apron still tied with hyunjin following you around like a lost puppy. he didn’t approach you on the rooftop until you were smiling, your eyes red and slightly smaller, he let riley and chan whip you back into shape until he felt it was okay for him to take his turn to cheer you up. he stood with you at the stove, a pan full of vegetables in front of you, handing you each ingredient you asked for with a hushed giggle because the appearance of oregano was similar to what you’d just been smoking – “do you think seungmin keeps his stash here to hide it from the others?”

it was just oregano, that you knew, but you bursted into a fit of giggles anyway at the silliness of his question. if anyone could help your mind drift somewhere else, it was hyunjin.

riley and chan joined you in the kitchen, riley had picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes and finished what you had started, mixing the bowl while her and chan giggled to themselves. changbin, yunho and aera lingered in the kitchen looking for snacks but ended up in a deep discussion about the history of EDM music. yunho glanced at you with a weary eye every few minutes, knowing exactly what was up even if you didn’t explicitly say it. knowing han, he probably told everyone in the apartment the second you ran up the stairs. 

and still, jeongin has not spoken to you – hadn’t even glanced up from his spot on the couch when you returned from the rooftop. 

“are there more millers in the fridge?” you turned around at the easily recognizable voice, riley looking up at the same time you turned. san stood in the empty space that was the entrance to the kitchen, empty bottle in his hand, looking around the room with raised eyebrows.

“yeah, man, in here,” yunho said from his spot next to changbin, the pair stood next to the stainless steel. yours and riley’s eyes both seemed to follow him from his spot all the way to the fridge, you cringed, the hairs on your arms threatening to stand tall. 

it was so… uncomfortable. riley and chan have been harmonious all day, you’ve always known chan is a perfect gentleman but seeing him with riley was something else entirely. holding doors open, drinking from her straw, finishing her sentences, moving a stray hair from her face, it was so domestic – like they’d been together for years. to put yourself in san’s shoes, to watch her with someone else after he’d spent so much time with her was painful. 

to make it all worse – san knew every single detail, but chan did not. riley probably felt how you did whenever mingi was on the rooftop – that feeling you knew all too well. 

“don’t forget to stir, princess,” hyunjin said from beside you and it snapped you back into reality, you quickly moved the vegetables around on the pan, scooping the liquid from the pan and draping it over the vegetables. by the time they were done, you were tired of standing and your mouth was dry – the weed had done more than just calm you down. you quickly walked over to the fridge, past yunho, aera and changbin to crack open a beer for yourself. 

“keeks,” changbin wandered over to the fridge, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want anyone to hear him. in a brown sweater that hugged every single muscle on his broad chest, he looked delectable. he put one arm up on the fridge, using it as leverage as he crossed one leg over the other, standing tall against the height of the fridge.

you raised your eyebrows, sipping your beer, prompting him to continue without a verbal response. 

“about jeongin…” he started, looking everywhere but in your eyes, his voice soft but uneasy. your eyes shot wide – this cannot be fucking happening again. 

“ah!” was yelled across the kitchen, a sound of annoyance, a sound that meant shut the fuck up. riley had a finger up in front of her, wiggling it back and forth – her eyes just as wide as yours but full of assertion. “we will not be doing that anymore tonight, get over here and cut up some butter.”

a wide smile racked across your face, your cheeks feeling sore at this point. god, you fucking loved that girl. you shot her a grateful look, nodding with a tight lipped smile, and made your way right back to hyunjin. 

“...and that’s why i told you to keep your mouth shut about it, it’s none of our business,” minho said, his voice coming clearer as he walked into the kitchen right behind han. 

everyone’s heads turned to look at the pair who stopped in their tracks, everyone’s expression utterly fucking blank. a laugh bubbled in your throat, one you couldn’t help from spilling out, one that filled the open space of the room that was just so uncomfortably silent. everyone’s heads turned to you, all sixteen eyes wide.

“should we sit in a circle and discuss it as a group at this point? someone call jeongin in here, too,” the words slipped from your lips so carelessly, irritation clear in your words, your entire body vibrating as you spoke. if everyone was going to talk about it amongst themselves, without the two people the situation was even about, fuck it – why not talk about it with everyone instead?

you couldn’t stub your toe without everyone knowing, it was the only negative part of your friend group, an aspect that wasn’t inherently negative all the time. here, today, on the most important day for everyone… it felt like your friends really fucking sucked. 

jeongin’s head popped right around minho’s, copper curls a stark contrast to minho’s dark ones. his eyebrows were raised at the mention of his name, clearly not knowing at all what you guys were talking about. 

“call me for what?” he asked as he made his way through the kitchen, no one moved an inch, eight pairs of eyes trained on his red tee as he made it to the fridge. “just need a beer,” he still had an eyebrow raised, and yet no one spoke a word. “why are you guys acting so fucking weird?”

everyone went back to what they were doing moments prior, as if nothing happened at all. you turned around, facing hyunjin again, hands immediately going to cool down your cheeks again. you whispered what the fuck under your breath about six times, then ran a hand through your hair. 

hyunjin put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it before he whispered, “he’s gone now.” he looked around the kitchen before his eyes settled on changbin, then his eyes went wide, “oh shit, bin, please tell me you remembered the apple pie, i think we forgot it on the table.”

the turkey was ready on time this year – you were shocked. the air smelled so delicious, it was as if martha stewart herself came to this apartment and cooked you all a gourmet thanksgiving dinner. from all the barefoot contessa episodes of food network you’d been watching before bed the last week, you felt as if you really learned something, you couldn’t believe you planned out everything perfectly with ingredients, timing, the amount of food, everything. this had to be your and riley’s best work yet. 

it wasn’t just you and riley in the kitchen all day — there was also felix, seungmin, yunho and aera when they arrived, changbin, hyunjin, wooyoung even came in the kitchen to whip up the cranberry sauce. from stuffing to sweet potato casserole, you felt like you were doing the true american thanksgiving, not only participating in it but you actually cooked a lot of it from scratch. if your parents knew, they’d be shocked, too, maybe even proud of you. 

one more problem still remained: fitting fourteen people to sit down and eat it all. the apartment was massive, there was an incredible amount of space, the roommates fit tons of people on the rooftop every other weekend – but fitting them inside? 

there was one dining table that seats six, eight if you brought over the lawn chairs from the rooftop, but that still left six people standing or in a whole other room. the open floor plan of the apartment made it so there weren’t really rooms, but the living room was still far enough from the dining room that it was awkward. last year, you all ended up standing, only seungmin and han sat down at the table – with just appetizers it didn’t give off the sit-down vibe. this year you had a display of food, the plates themselves took up most of the table space. 

seungmin, felix, yunho, aera, han and minho were already seated – you left the other two seats up to hyunjin and changbin. that left riley, chan, san, wooyoung, jeongin and you in the kitchen, a terrible combination, probably the worst mix of people that could’ve ended up together. 

wooyoung’s cheeks were bright red and his chest matched, his button down shirt that had three buttons left open exposed the amount of beers he had already consumed – also the fact that he was the only other person in the room that knew everything. he kept catching your eye, trying not to smile, but you could tell he was about to burst. you just prayed he kept it in. 

“are we just gonna stand awkwardly around the table, or eat in here?” riley asked, her eyes continuously darting around the room. you could see in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks that matched wooyoung’s, she was feeling the same way as you were, discomfort, uneasy about what comes next. she kept shifting her weight from leg to leg, bouncing back and forth from each side of the island, cleaning up the area that had already been cleaned as best it could.

“it’s like the kid’s table,” wooyoung giggled to himself, “but instead of the kid’s table it’s the outcast island.”

you raised an eyebrow toward him, you were sure everyone did, your heart picking up a beat. maybe you were being paranoid – he wouldn’t expose anything, not here, not now.

“what do you mean?” jeongin asked from across the island – you hadn’t even pulled out plates for yourselves yet. 

“this is a crazy group of people,” wooyoung shrugged, sipping the beer he held in his hands, chipped nail polish perfectly matching the frayed label of the bottle. san laughed from his side, turning around to face the fridge so no one caught his chuckle – everyone did. your heartbeat quickened, widening your eyes in a please shut up kind of way, and wooyoung just laughed as he caught your eye.

“why is it crazy?” chan asked, looking around the room before he bent down to riley’s ear and whispered way too fucking loud, “is he talking about jeongin and ki? i thought that topic was off limits for the rest of the night?”

your head went into your palm, eyes shut tight, muttering a jesus fucking christ under your breath.

riley looked around the room, completely ignoring chan, “you guys should go get some food.” she nudged chan’s side, her eyes saying that means you, too. she looked to you with wide eyes and used her head to nod toward the hallway leading towards jeongin and chan’s bedrooms, you gave one nod of your chin back in understanding, following her through the space of the apartment as the others left for the dining room.

“i can’t do this,” her voice was hushed, shaky and stressed. her eyes were wide, her hands sat on the sides of her head pushing her hair back, “chan and san both in the same room, i can’t do it. then wooyoung made that comment and san laughed? i’m freaking out, ki.”

“i know, i know, i’m sorry, breathe,” you kept your eye contact strong as you breathed with her, taking a soothing breath from all the way in your stomach before you continued, “i’ll tell wooyoung to shut the fuck up and stop being so obvious. i don’t know what’s going on, i’m sorry.”

“chan isn’t ready to date yet and i know that, i–” she shut her eyes, taking another deep breath, “this is the last place i want him to find out i’m still sleeping with san.”

“he doesn’t want to date yet?” your eyes were wide with surprise, you didn’t know this, you and riley still haven’t discussed the whole thing. she whined, a high pitched noise slipping from her lips, her hands immediately going back in her hair.

“he’s still freaked out about that eden girl who cheated on him,” she answered quickly, “but i’m not even mad because i can’t exactly let go of san, either.”

“oh shit, ri,” a laugh escaped your throat, “we really need to talk this shit out.” 

“i know, but now isn’t the time or place,” she sighed, “now i’m panicking that his plan was to expose me or something by coming here.”

“i really don’t think san would do that,” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing. you couldn’t begin to understand how san felt, but knowing san, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone – it’s not in his character.

“then why would wooyoung say that? they’re playing with fire, ki, you heard them,” she was whisper-yelling now, her hand shooting out in the direction of the living room outside of the hallway. 

“i do not think wooyoung and san would come here just to expose you to chan, ri,” you put your hands on her shoulders, “wooyoung wouldn’t do that to me and san wouldn’t do that to you.”

“i hope you’re right,” her eyes closed, a hand going through her hair again, “i can’t handle losing chan for this stupid of a fucking reason, i think if chan found out it would push him over the edge and he’d never trust a woman again. i need to end things with san – again.”

“i don’t think i was supposed to hear any of that.”

your heads whipped behind you, a figure stood at the end of the dim hallway, and the whole world went silent. chan stood with his jaw locked, his hands in fists at his sides, his eyes unreadable – you’d never seen chan anything but happy, maybe stressed during midterm and finals season, but never this. never anger. 

“chan,” riley choked out, a hand clasping over her mouth, “i–”

he took a step closer, you felt so fucking small between them. you took a step back toward the wall, giving them space, removing yourself from their eyeview, from the situation entirely. 

“i came over here to see if you were okay,” he hissed out with furrowed eyebrows, “did not expect to find out you’re fucking the guy that was just snickering in the fucking kitchen.”

“chan, i did not want you to find out this way,” riley started, and you side stepped, wanting to get out of the hallway – this was between them now. her eyes panned to you, wide and full of shock, fear, something else you couldn’t decipher. it meant please don’t go. 

“you didn’t want me to find out at all,” he laughed, a sarcastic chuckle so dark you’d never heard anything like it leave his lips before. 

“that’s not true,” riley shook her head, her voice small, “i’m so sorry.”

“i spent hours telling you how terrible she made me feel, how fucking awful it was finding out she cheated on me, i went in detail on what that did to me, ri,” his voice cracked, his shoulders slumped. chan wasn’t just angry – chan was sad. 

his words stuck with you – your eyes couldn’t leave him. his words hit directly in your gut, your soul – chan and eden were together for something like six months? and her cheating on him affected him this much… guilt sat in your stomach. 

“i know, i should’ve been honest from the start, i’m so sorry,” tears welled up in riley’s eyes, “i should’ve told you.”

“what goes on?” seungmin’s head peeked around the corner, eyeing the three of you, his eyes curious. you all turned to look at him and his eyes widened, “oh shit, what the hell happened?”

“riley’s been fucking san,” chan didn’t look at seungmin as he said it, he kept his eyes trained on riley as he spoke, his jaw locked again. 

“come on, chan,” you interjected, “gonna let the whole house know?”

they both turned to you, riley’s eyes full of tears, chan’s pained expression told you that you should’ve kept your mouth shut. 

“why not? she did it,” he looked at you as if that was the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, his words still coming out choked. how could you forget? if one of them knows something, they all know it. seungmin, like a messenger pigeon, was gone from the hallway the second the words left chan’s lips. 

you shut your eyes tight – this was so fucking bad. you didn’t know how you were going to go out there and face everyone after this, were you even going to make it to the tree lighting? you wouldn’t do it without riley, it was too important, she was the one who introduced you to them in the first place. 

“i really thought you were it, ri. thought we were it,” chan shook his head, snapping you back into focus, and a sob left riley’s lips, her tears free falling now. 

“you don’t even want to date me, chan, how were we it?” she asked through her sobs, a fire of her own starting to burn, her face increasingly more red as the conversation continued. 

“i want to, i’m just not ready, it doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen,” his voice got louder, it was strained, full of frustration, the veins in his neck becoming more visible. he was trying to keep his own emotions to a minimum.

“and what, i’m just supposed to wait for you to get over it? wait for you to be sure about me?” the volume of her voice matched his, a sharp edge to it, she was getting pissed. a smile threatened to break on your face, that’s your riley.

“no, riley, what? there was no waiting, i– we’re together every fucking day. i just wasn’t ready for a title,” he was talking with his hands now, stumbling over his words. she caught him, she hit checkmate.

“if we’re together every day then we should’ve had a title, chan. if there’s no title then i’m single,” her smile was victorious through her tears, “if i’m single i can do as i please, right now i just want to eat the dinner i just spent hours making.”

with that, she maneuvered past him, grabbing your wrist to pull you through the end of the hallway. you stayed quiet – you didn’t know what to say other than what the fuck just happened? a sadness sat in your stomach, a mixture of the thought of riley going through all of this alone and the pain chan was feeling from not only eden but also riley sleeping with someone else. 

you made your plates in silence, the dinner table eerily quiet as riley slammed food on her plate, not at all careful about hitting the metal spoons against the ceramic. makeup stained her cheeks in lines of tears, her sniffles the loudest thing in the room. you followed along quietly, your face blank, santa claus is coming to town by justin bieber lingering in the background, tension so painfully thick in the air the situation was almost laughable. almost. chan followed momentarily after, standing to the side with his jaw locked again, his eyes red and glossy. everyone already knew, but even if they didn’t, it was so fucking obvious what had just happened – you wanted to grab riley and make a run for it. 

as she put a biscuit on her plate, she turned to the table and smiled, “should we all say what we’re thankful for?”

everyone stared at her for a moment before they nodded in agreement, small mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘totally’ slipping through. you were on edge, you didn’t know how to handle her right now, didn’t know what she was thinking and that made you panic.

“i’ll go first,” she smiled, standing at the head of the table, the warm, dim lighting catching the streaks on her face that were still wet, “i’m thankful for being alive, being healthy, and especially thankful for choi san’s stroke game.”

you gasped, everyone fucking gasped, a snort left your nose. her face was blank, she was so serious, you glanced to chan whose gaze was so pointed at san you were grateful looks couldn’t kill. 

“i’ll go next, then,” chan declared from his spot to the side of her, behind han, and everyone’s eyes moved together – this was so not good. “i’m thankful for my friends, my family, the meal, and i’m thankful to be single, not dating another fucking cheater.” 

“cheater?” a laugh escaped riley’s lips, “we were never fucking dating!”

“ki, do something,” jeongin quietly said from beside you, when he got there you weren’t exactly sure. your face grew hot under his gaze, you hadn’t looked at him in the eyes in so long.

“ki can’t do anything,” san said from across the table, stood behind hyunjin and changbin, then sipped his beer casually. all of the blood drained from your face, you stayed quiet.

“can’t call out your friend for cheating when you’re a cheater yourself, right?” your world fucking stopped when the words left san’s lips. wooyoung turned to him with wide eyes, yunho’s head snapped up from the table. everyone else gasped again. 

“i– what the fuck are you talking about?” you snapped, your eyebrows furrowed. you looked to jeongin beside you who’s eyes wouldn’t leave san, the blood drained from your face, you couldn’t breathe. you needed to stay calm.

“continue,” jeongin’s chin jutted up to san, his voice entirely too natural. he didn’t seem stressed or upset at all. you glanced to riley who stared at you with wide eyes, her lips parted. you couldn’t read her.

“wooyoung and i are roommates, ki, you think i don’t know?” san laughed to himself, sipping his beer again. his stance was casual, one hand in his pocket and one hand wrapped around his beer as if he wasn’t ruining your life. riley was right about san coming here to expose, but she wasn’t right in who he was exposing. 

“i didn’t tell him anything, whatever he’s about to say is a lie,” wooyoung’s words came out fast, rushed, shaky – a lie no one would believe. 

“that night you spent in the studio with mingi? you know, your coworker?” san raised his eyebrows, his head cocked to the side, “come on, ki, i know you know what i’m talking about. you just told wooyoung on thursday.”

your breathing quickened, your face probably beat red with how much heat you were feeling. your reply came out just like wooyoung’s rebuttal, too quick, too shaky to be true, “you’re a liar.”

“no he’s not,” jeongin sipped his beer, “makes sense why you’re at the label so much then, huh? spending time with your other boyfriend?”

he finally looked at you – his eyes were cold as ice. so detached, so far away, there was no anger – there was just a wall. you could throw up everywhere. 

“jeongin, he’s fucking lying–”

“you and yunho both, actually, i guess riley, too. bunch of cheaters,” san shook his head with a tsk, “aera, if you didn’t know, yunho cheated on his girlfriend of four years to be with you.”

aera turned to yunho with an eyebrow raised, “i knew it, that’s why we went to a hotel? you never had roommates, did you?”

you turned back to jeongin who’d already begun walking toward his bedroom, too much leisure in his step, too much calm compared to what you felt – you were going to be sick. mingi’s words hang in your head again. 

you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.

“jeongin, please listen to me,” you pleaded, stomach hot, “san doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“then what is he talking about?” jeongin asked, his voice too casual, too cool. he stood in his doorway, the light of his bedroom dim behind him, the hallway even darker, he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. maybe he believed you, maybe he wouldn’t believe san at all. 

“i don’t know, nothing happened with me and mingi,” your shoulders were slumped, your face stoic. you placed the end of a piece of hair between your fingers, jeongin’s eyes immediately catching the action. a laugh escaped his lips. 

“i knew it was some shit like this,” he ran a hand through his hair then shook his head, “please get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

“jeongin, wait,” you moved closer, hand reaching to grab his forearm. he snatched it back, looking up to you with those cold, icy eyes once more. 

“you don’t want to fucking be with me, ki. you don’t want a boyfriend. you want to be a producer, you want to go to shows, hangout with your record label friends, drink at bars in brooklyn on weeknights when you should be doing your fucking homework that i know you haven’t done in weeks, you want to be single. you need to be single.”

you stared at him, your lips parting to speak, but you had nothing to say. no words would come out, even after you willed them to, begged them to. there was nothing you could say to fix this – no words to use as a bandage, a splint, a cast, nothing to hold up a relationship that had already been utterly destroyed. there was no coming back from this. 

you whimpered, a sound of despair, a sound that came from so deep in your chest you didn’t really know if it came from yourself. “i’m so sorry,” you whispered, tears welling up in your waterline, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

“have fun in LA, safe travels. delete my fucking number please,” he stepped back into his room, a fingers wrapped around his door. he paused, icy eyes meeting yours again, “i would’ve given you everything, you know that right? would’ve made you happy, done anything for you. i hope he can do that for you.”

he shut his bedroom door, his voice didn’t waiver once. you stood, facing his closed door, the dark wood staring at you, mocking you. the walls closed of the hallway closed in on you as you stared back, so many nights you’d spent behind that same door, in bed with him, playing games on his computer, watching tv, so much of your life you’d spent enclosed in the four walls of his bedroom. you’d miss it. 

your eyes were trained on the floor as you walked back towards the living room, you thought maybe you were in shock – two years today. you really weren’t going to the tree lighting after all. 

“ki,” riley whispered, immediately approaching you, wooyoung at her side. 

“i didn’t know he was going to say all of that, i’m so fucking sorry. i thought we were just messing around in the kitchen, i didn’t know that would happen, i’m so sorry,” wooyoung was speaking fast and hushed, words only you and riley could hear. you looked up at him, then realizing your face was wet, tears you didn’t know you had spilled. 

“we have to go,” you choked out, your eyes trained on the floor in front of you again. riley had gotten your bags from the living room, and you were on the sidewalk before you could process how you got there.

two years. he’s a middle child, he can sing, his favorite food is chicken, he hates beans. he was a child model, he’d be a preschool teacher if he wasn’t in school to write musicals. he loves ASMR, he loves watching mukbangs, his favorite color is pink, he loves quality time. he hates being touched by anyone else that isn’t you. you’d spent two years learning all of this, loving all of this – you couldn’t breathe. you couldn’t think. you fucked up.

your phone was ringing, buzzing in your purse, you couldn’t answer it. you couldn’t even reach for it. 

“hey yun, yeah we’re taking her home, i don’t know she hasn’t said a word. okay, meet us there,” wooyoung’s voice felt so far away, you could’ve sworn he was right next to you.

you fucked up, you fucked up, you fucked up. 

i would’ve given you everything, you know that right? would’ve made you happy, done anything for you. i hope he can do that for you.

perm tags @chimivx 😙

[popcornforone]

Appreciation

Day twenty one of the Seasons of Life Drabble Challenge

A Frankie Catfish Morales Fic

MASTERLIST

It’s the day @berryispunk has been waiting for. It’s Frankie’s Turn, & for Aviators as the Prompt it was the natural choice for sure. Also I’m sure @lady-bess & @fanfictionoverload will still love it.

Synopsis:- It’s Frankie Birthday.

Word Count:- 500 (on the button)

No real warning here, I like doing soft Frankie.

Don’t worry no additional post today just this one, yesterday was a one off. See you all tomorrow.

Frankie had never been one for the limelight. So when his birthday rolled around, it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t make much of it. To Frankie, it was just another day. But you had other plans.

The idea came to you one night as he fiddled with an old, scratched pair of aviators he’d bought years ago at a gas station during one of their ops. He wore them religiously, despite the crooked fit & fading tint, they meant the world to him.

On his birthday, you waited until everyone else had piled in for breakfast at the diner they always met at. Frankie had strolled in last, his ever present baseball cap slightly askew.

“What’s all this?” Frankie asked, sliding into the booth beside you.

“Just breakfast,” Pope said with a shrug, not quite hiding the wink he threw your way.

The moment came after the plates had been cleared, the coffee cups refilled, & Frankie had loosened up enough to lean back with a small smile on his face. That’s when you slid the neatly wrapped box across the table toward him. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s this?”

“Just open it,” you urged, unable to hide your grin. Frankie’s rough hands made quick work of the paper, revealing a black case. When he unzipped it & pulled out the aviators, his breath hitched. They weren’t just any sunglasses; they were a designer pair, the kind pilots swore by. Sleek, sturdy, & stylish. He ran his fingers over the frame, his lips parting slightly as he tilted them to catch the light.

“These are nice,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“You needed an upgrade,” you teased, nudging his shoulder. “Those gas station specials were an insult to your whole vibe.” The table erupted in laughter. He slid the aviators on & looked around, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

“How do they feel?” Pope asked.

“Like I could take on the world,” Frankie replied, & though the line was delivered with a hint of sarcasm, there was no mistaking the genuine gratitude in his voice.

For the rest of the day, he kept the glasses on, even as the sun started setting. It wasn’t about the price or the brand, it was about the thought. Every time he glanced your way, his lips curled into a smile that seemed reserved just for you.

Later, as the two of you sat on the hood of his truck, watching the waves roll in under the sun set, he turned to you. “Thanks for the aviators,” he said simply, but the way he said it held more weight than the words alone.

“I know your old pair were sentimental Frankie,” you replied, leaning back & watching as he adjusted the glasses, . “& If you don’t like these…” you then hand him a carrier bag”… I also got this pair for $5 at the gas station” he laughs loudly.

“That’s my girl” he kisses your forehead.

“Happy birthday Frankie”

[the-lavender-clown]

what kind of arguments do you think knuckles would get into with his family? silly or angsty

For silly I can see he and Sonic always getting into little sibling squabbles like the “I’m not touching you” scene from Lilo and Stitch or who had the last of what food (“the cool ranch flavor is my favorite and you know it hedgehog! You prefer the nacho flavor and you do not see me taking any of the several bags that lay forgotten in the pantry!!”)

With Tails I can see them getting into mild arguments about how technology works or something

For angsty I can see so many arguments that stem purely from miscommunication happening. Specifically in regards to Knuckles’ trauma responses to various things because the things he does like probably hiding injuries, smashing first asking questions later, pacing through the house and yard to keep watch, and who know what else seem illogical or even annoying/frustrating at times without any explanation. I can’t see Knuckles willing to tell his whole life’s story to put his quirks into context. He does what he does because it’s what has kept him alive when it seemed the entire universe wanted him dead and the amount of effect that trauma had on him had to be immense. I imagine that he never had to explain any of the things he does before because many around him in gladiator pits, prisons, or whatever else did similar things or took one look at him and just knew. No explanation needed. It’s dark and lonely and dangerous but in the dark side of the galaxy that Knuckles grew up in at least everyone understood

So yay, lack of context for different behaviors I can see causing a lot of arguments and one day many of the smaller arguments becoming more and eventually culminating into an explosion until a single very telling sentence is said and suddenly everything starts slowly clicking into place as the rest of the family starts to understand

They work it all out in the end

[sennenpharaoh]

"Ah!" Atem gave an exclamation of excitement. "I can't believe it! I caught a fish!" To be honest, that was the whole point of the restaurant, but still it felt amazing for Atem to catch his very first fish! He couldn't help but be excited at his little accomplishment. This fishing thing sounds pretty fun!

As the worker came in with the net to catch Atem's fish she hooked the fish onto a handle for Atem to hold on, explaining that they could take a picture if they like.

"Colonel! Colonel! In my bag!" He pointed to his messenger bag that was next to their table, mentioning his camera. Of course he wanted to get a picture of his very first fish.

"Congratulations, congratulations! Look at that big catch! And to have us all celebrate this big moment, I'm going to need your name."

"Huh?" Atem blinked, a little confused, but gave it anyway. "My name is Atem."

"Atem-san, very well." She motioned to a coworker by a massive drum, who began banging against the drum in a rhythm, causing Atem to have a puzzled look. So that's why he was hearing the drumming sound earlier. For a caught fish...

Oh boy.

"Everyone!" The worker shouted in a celebratory voice. "Atem has just caught his first Sea Bream, so I'll need everyone to help us celebrate by a big clap on three!"

"Wait, what?" E... Everyone??? He looked around, noticing that all the workers were getting their hands ready to clap for Atem, causing him to turn a bit red in the face in slight embarrassment, never mind that the fish was still flopping about from the handle he was holding on to.

"Rea-dy? One! Two! Three! Clap! Congratulations!"

A resounding clapping noise was heard from around the fishing area, almost like they were cheering him... which made him chuckle a bit in embarrassment. No doubt his Colonel was enjoying this. The drumming mixed with the applause for a few seconds while Atem kept holding onto the fish, giving Roy plenty of time to take a picture (or two) of Atem with his very first fish.

"Alright, alright. Now... for the Sea Bream, how would you like it cooked?"

Thankfully there was a giant menu on the wall so Atem could point it out without saying much as... he was still a little embarrassed from the public celebration (you'd think with his past he'd be used to such a spectacle). So, he pointed to the picture of it grilled with salt, a simple choice. After giving her their table number she gave a bow, took Atem's fish and placed it in a container, and walked away to have his catch be cooked for him, leaving Atem with a slightly red a pouty face that he wanted to bury into Roy already.

"You didn't tell me that something like that might happen..." He was flustered, but that also meant that soon his Colonel would go through the same thing, so there.

“I see.” He nods and then smiles softly as he leaned against Atem in return while they stood together. “I don’t think you’re crazy for wanting to do things like this.” He said honestly before the tugging began and it made them both pull away.

Excited for Atem he quickly grabbed the workers attention and net before she came by with said net and held it over the tank for Atem to put in it. This was definitely something that they would enjoy for the evening.

"You did it! You caught dinner tonight! I'm so proud of you, Atem!" He beamed brightly as he chuckled happily. It wasn't everyday they got to fish for something they were going to eat the same night, this was definitely a victory worth celebrating.

Roy still needed to catch his fish, but he had time for that while Atem's meal was to get prepared and he was sure that they would both be enjoying their own victories for the evening together.

[scoriarose]

I'm thinking about how I've always been told, "Reptiles are incapable of love. They only use you for your body heat." But then I see my girls do this with each other- and they're both cold blooded.

When I let them play together, they are almost always together either cuddling or following each other around. Sakura does most of the following and seeks out here sibling if she's scared, but has also been very brave when she thought her sister needed protecting. If this is not love, what is it? And yes, Scoria is very loving with me too- but I find it hard to believe she only wants my body heat when she cuddles her sibling who doesn't have any.

If not love, it at the very least is more than seeking out body heat since that variable is removed between her sister and myself and she seeks both of us for cuddles and comfort. Her little sister will race to her sister and hide under her when she's scared, and Scoria has gone out of her way to comfort her sister at no other benefit to herself. I'm hoping to get similar actions on video as they regularly do these things with each other but it's hard to predict to have my camera filming.

I think sometimes Sakura likes together time a little more than Scoria, hahaha.

"Sister please, the door is only so big."

'I'm with you! ❤️ I do what you do! 🩷'

-Tolerates baby sister's shenanigans-

Anyway, the next time someone tells you your snake doesn't care about you and is only trying to steal your body heat, remember these girls who adore each other and have no body heat to steal.

[cerbreus]

some days it feels like the universe has it out for me and today is one of those days

[syncrovoid-presents]

YOU CAN HIT A TAG LIMIT??? My ramblings in the tags have been conquered and squashed by the 30 tag limit. How silly!

[inbabylontheywept]

the house i grew up in was a little bit of a fixer upper. for the first 19 years, my dad just sort of slowly fixed it, but pretty early on in college, he came into a large amount of cash and decided to just do the whole thing at once. so he rented a different house for like, 2 months that was just a block down from us, and then got a bunch of contractors to fix original house ASAP. it was kind of crazy, but it compressed many years of work into like, three months.

the sitting in a new house for three months was actually pretty fun. and i shouldnt really complain at all (staying at home while in college is a sweet deal)

but.

but. my parents are fairly hard of hearing, and their bedroom in the old house was in the furthest possible annex from everyone else. wheras in the rental it was just in the middle of the house. so without going into details, i was extremely aware that my parents were having sex like, eight times a day. my dad had just retired and i guess they were celebrating, which is great i guess, having parents that really like each other is way better than the alternative, but also, it did make me envy their deafness. i kept headphones on for so long that year i got literal ear calluses.

at the same time, the house my buddy from the shoe incident grew up in flooded. turbo flooded. they burst like, two pipes at once and the damage was so severe they had to redo all the flooring and all the drywall. his family actually had homeowners insurance, which is either incredible or suspicious for a family that used the drained pool in their backyard to store rusty scrap metal. so insurance was handling the work, but in the meantime, they were crammed into a very small hotel room space. we did the math on it then, it averaged about 80 square feet a person.

so one day i got home, and i was chilling, and then six rolled around, and apparently six o'clock was sex o'clock because my parents decided to flex their cardio. i grabbed my headphones and prayed that god would do for me what he did for beethoven, but that failed to work, and then seven rolled around and my parents were still at it, which again, very impressive, but was pushing me to swap out judas for mozart in those prayers. there's a definitive point where you stop praying to be deaf and instead pray that god could take you to a nice field and pop you like a gore-balloon.

i was about five minutes away from that point when my friend called me and basically said i have been stuck in a 500 square foot space with 6 people and i didn't have many marbles to start but what few i had are gone. please. if we are friends, if we were ever friends, take me out of here just for a moment.

and i was still pretty mad at him, but i had pity on the poor guy. also helped that i was desperate to leave the house. so i drove the chickenshitmobile to the hotel and i picked him up, and then we did our normal hangout activity, which was go to food city and buy produce. his normal house was, on a good day, nasty, and his backyard was, as i stated before, mostly used to store mosquito larvae and rusty metal, so what we'd always done before was just walk to the grocery store a half block away and leer at vegetables.

so we did that and it was like old times again. they had some radishes that were expired, so i could buy like, literally an entire grocery bag of them for about $5. so i did. i really like radishes. he got a coconut because he liked fruit and beating things with hammers.

which probably would've been great except we didn't have a hammer, so instead we spent about 30 minutes stomping itike it owed us money. when it finally cracked we cheered like we just got the winning touchball at the superdome and then he ate some of the flesh, and i ate some of the radishes, and we admired the black, starless sky of the city before i took him back to his hotel room.

and then we got pulled over.

i forgot to turn my lights on because the street all around the food city was ludicrously well lit. so it went from being pretty bright, to pretty bright and flashy, then i pulled into a parking lot and a cop came to ask us for IDs which is where everything went to shit:

i’d forgotten my license at home. 

the cop was was actually kind of chill about it - he said he could get by with just an address. except i did not know my address. i hadn't memorized the new one yet. so i told the cop, my house is getting remodeled, i don't know my address right now. and then he went to my friend, and my friend said the exact same thing. house getting remodeled, staying somewhere else, no address, sowwwwwwy.

now the cop genuinely didn't know what to do. he went back to his car, and i was stressed that i was about to get into HUGE trouble so i started eating the radishes and my buddy started eating more of his coconut, and we actually managed to eat like a quarter of both before the cop came back. we ate enough produce that he could smell something weird in the air, and he asked what the smell was, and i said radishes, and my buddy said coconut, and the cop said which, and then we produced a large bag of droopy radishes and an absolutely brutalized coconut, and the cop was just like

so my buddy tried explaining how he was sharing a 500 square foot apartment with 6 people and wanted a fruit he could fight with power tools, and i tried explaining how i'd actually tried buying my parents like, board games and puzzles and stuff but nothing worked - the only thing my parents seemed to like doing right now was each other, and we both went on long enough and pathetically enough that the cop eventually went:

ok. stop.

and we stopped.

and he said do you know why i pulled you over?

and i said, because of my headlights, and my friend (who is hispanic) and the cop both looked at me like like i was the dumbest person in the entire world. and then the cop said no. that's why i'm allowed to pull you over. i checked your car because this neighborhood has a terrible sex trafficking problem, and i pull over every car i can to make sure no one is buying or selling sex. and you two are obviously doing neither. now i could give you, like, four tickets right now, but that would do nothing to make this area safer, so just turn your lights on, go home, drive safe, and try to be less stupid in the future.

and i said okay but i was thinking, you know, damn, this is just how i live man, i don't have a hidden third gear i can shift into. people can't just get smarter because it would be convenient. it's always convenient to be smart. i am literally trying my best.

but i didn't say anything because i was, slowly, learning how to filter what i said. instead i nodded and the cop left then i dropped my buddy off, and the last thing he said was said he owed me for responding to his SOS. I said he owed me for a lot of things, and he agreed that was true. then i drove home with my lights on, 5 under the speed limit, and arrived to a peaceful quiet home. I could’ve wept with relief but instead I went to bed.

the relief was short lived. i was woken up at 6 am by my parents. i swore, and then i prayed, and when i did not explode, i swore again. then i got up to make breakfast before my first class.

[fumiliar]

self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.

your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.

"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.

kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.

"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.

"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.

"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.

"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"

"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.

"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.

"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.

"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.

"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.

"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.

"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.

restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.

"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.

"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.

"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.

"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.

"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.

"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.

"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.

"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.

"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."

kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.

"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.

[dreaming-medium]

Language Barrier

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7K

Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers

Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.

———

A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.

‘How are you?’ - English

‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean

—————————————————————————

Luck was not on your side today.

It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.

Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.

Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.

Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.

“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”

You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.

It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!

Where is it? Where is it?

There!

You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.

A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.

The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.

It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.

Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.

After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.

Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.

Is that a 6 or an 8?

Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–

There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.

You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.

His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.

The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.

You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.

The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.

Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?

Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.

Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.

There’s a beat.

You try again, really putting your back into it this time.

“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.

“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”

You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”

The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”

You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.

Another series of blinks are exchanged.

“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.

You nod. “No… no Korean.”

A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.

“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.

“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.

“No.”

Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.

“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.

The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.

Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?

After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.

“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.

“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”

“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.

A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.

Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.

If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.

He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.

But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.

The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.

“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.

Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”

“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.

You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.

All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.

Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”

Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.

The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.

Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.

He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.

“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.

“A car accident?”

He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.

“Car accident,” he says in Korean.

“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.

Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.

“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.

The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.

You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.

The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.

He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!

Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.

The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.

After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.

‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.

The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.

“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.

Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.

‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’

Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.

‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’

A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.

‘Try learning Korean.’

Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.

‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’

Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”

He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.

‘You don’t have an umbrella.’

Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.

But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.

You type a message back to Minho.

‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’

He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.

“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.

Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.

Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.

You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”

A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?

No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.

Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.

Back to the app.

The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.

‘What do you do for work?’

‘What do you do for work?’

Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.

So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.

‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’

Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.

‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’

A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.

‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’

Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.

Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.

He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.

Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.

You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.

Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.

‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’

His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.

“You are welcome,” he answers in English.

His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.

After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.

‘Your turn. What do you do?’

Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.

His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.

You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.

He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?

Eventually, he turns the phone around.

‘I’m an idol.’

“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”

Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”

The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.

You type in your phone.

‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’

With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.

‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’

Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’

“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.

‘When do you go back to America?’

‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’

A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.

You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.

‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’

Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.

‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’

Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.

‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’

Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.

‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’

‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’

Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.

Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.

Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.

The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.

In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.

You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.

“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.

Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.

A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.

“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.

Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.

“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.

An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.

Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.

A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.

“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”

He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.

“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?

A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”

“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.

Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.

He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.

“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”

“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.

“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”

“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”

A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.

“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.

“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.

Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”

A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.

Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.

He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.

Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.

Is this really happening?

A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.

He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–

He’s shrugging off his hoodie.

Oh, he thinks you're cold.

Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.

Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.

It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.

Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.

“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.

Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.

There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.

It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.

‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’

Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.

‘I’m usually not.’

You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.

‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’

The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.

A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.

Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.

You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.

There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.

Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,

“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.

Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.

But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.

How is this even possible?

You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.

Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.

His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.

Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.

Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.

The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.

His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.

A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.

Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.

Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.

Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.

His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.

Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.

The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.

“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.

“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.

More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.

Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.

His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.

“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”

Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”

His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.

There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.

Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.

Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.

Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.

His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.

Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.

Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.

Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.

In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.

Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.

“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.

“No,” he says firmly.

“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.

“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.

“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.

“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.

You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.

“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”

“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.

Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.

“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”

He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.

With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.

“Come,” he says confidently.

“Lead way.”

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.

[kissforyouu]

too much ☆

pairing : sugar daddy!jungkook x fem!reader

genre : smut , fluff

warnings : sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship , implied age gap (reader 20s, jk 30s) , size kink, BIGGGG DDDD (9 inches) , choking , groping , d riding , daddy kink , hickeys , slapping , creampie , panty sniffing , use of petnames (angel, doll, baby, sweetheart) , he talks u thru it , squirting , anal penetration , slight dacryphilia , he gets off to her orgasming , the whole point is he’s too big for her

Today was the day.

You’re so determined to do it. You can do it. Yes, you can.

You were fully prepared, laying on your sugar daddy's expensive ass master bed, wrapped in white lace like a little present for him to unwrap. You looked as if you were a sweet angel fallen into his room filled with all things black and the only thing light being the white walls. And the little parts of you you'd leave hanging around. like makeup, books, clothes, etc. etc.

Too excited, that's what you were. but also nervous, in a way, but you had one goal for tonight. And that was to fit your sugar daddy's cock inside and ride him.

There was a very evident size difference between the two of you. Him being 6ft tall already gave it away, but to add to the list you stood at 5'2ft. He was big in every possible area you could think of, even his cock was massive. fuck. His palm could easily cover your asscheek perfectly without any flesh slipping out. He was a tall successful man with broad shoulders and a muscular body. Thick thighs, big arms—everything you liked in a man.

In addition to that, he was rich. So so rich that he offered you to be his sugar baby. You both met at the mall. So excitedly you went through all the cute dresses you could wear, but definitely not afford. You were still in college. No further explanation needed.

“Ah! this, er, maybe that? don't know!” You were on facetime with your friend, reviewing all the cute dresses you would buy if you had the money. Delusional!

“Nah, nah, nah, the purple one with butterflies would look so good on you!” Your friend squeals, making you squeal back. You might be making too much noise in ths store, but you didn't care.

“You know what would look good with this dress? a cute cardigan and I’d pair this up with some gold hoops."

“Hmm, sounds really pretty”, your friend answered.

“Wish i had the money though...” there was a pout formed on your lips when you look back at the prize tag.

Somehow, your friend ended up having to leave the call due to some work. You end the call, ready to exit the store with absolutely no bags whatsoever. But someone, a man, stops you.

And then he asks you the most out of the blue question ever.

“Want me to buy you that dress?”

That was how it all started. He offered you to become his sugar baby after a full day spent at the mall of him buying you random things. At first, you said no. But he gave you time to decide and also kept sending you gifts over and over. At the end, you agreed. To be fair, you expected him to be the most obscene, rude, horrid man ever. But he's actually...pretty nice. sweet. caring.

Your relationship was 50/50. All you had to do was to take care of that man emotionally, shower him with love which you'll gladly do and also have bomb ass sex with him and he'll pay off all your bills and buy you a shit ton of things in return. The sex wasn't even a topic brought up at first, he didn't need that kind of favour. Just needed a pretty baby to spoil who'll love him in return. The sex just happened on a random friday night. Ever since, you've been getting the best dick you've ever had in your entire life. But there was one problem.

He was too big.

And you were too small.

Sure, the sex was so good and he always made sure to make you cum at least twice each time. It was so good that you couldn't even count the stars rotating around your head each time you orgasmed. But one thing that always managed to bother you...was he satisfied? Because of the obvious size difference, it was hard to fit him inside. Most of the time you’d end up stopping him because it hurt. He won't even be fully in when that happens. Although he always reassured you that he's far more than satisfied with you, you still wouldn't buy it.

But today, you’re going to do it. Gonna make all of him fit inside and give him the orgasm he deserves.

You laid on your back with your eyes fixed on the pattern of the ceiling, feet kicking in the air as you mindlessly waited for him to return home.

But a flirtatious whistle catches you off guard. you immediately rise back up from the bed, eyes darting to the man leaning against the door frame looking at you with a smug look.

“Jungkook!” you squealed.

“Was wondering where you were.” He makes his way towards you.

“I was here.” you mumble.

“I can see...” he snorts.

He lifts you up to sit on the bed by his hands on your waist, then touching your bare stomach, right above the little lace skirt you were wearing.

“For me?” there's a little smug look on his face.

“Who else would it be for?” there’s a sly smirk on your face, batting your lashes as you spoke.

"hah, you little minx" he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, soon cupping your chin and raising your head up.

"when did you buy this?" his thumb teasingly caresses your lower lip.

"mmm, last week. bought it when i went shopping with mina..."

jungkook snickers, thumb now poking in between your lips. instinctively, you open your mouth for him to easily slide his thumb in between. you let out a muffled giggle, swirling your tongue around his thumb.

you both had wide grins on eachother's faces, fully aware of where this was heading.

you choke on his entire thumb the moment he pushes it all in, his thumb and a part of his hand, stuffing your mouth full. with a little bit of drool slipping out of your mouth, you close your eyes with a hum, but jungkook pulls his hand out.

hurriedly, with a satisfied grin, jungkook begins to unbuckle his belt. but before he could move any further, you were quick enough to stop him, bringing confusion to his face.

"huh?"

"kook, the bed. get on the bed, please." you request.

jungkook raises his eyebrow as your unusual request, but still obeying. he removes his shoes first, then gets on the bed, legs spread and leaning against the headboard as he waits for your next move. you couldn't help but let out a small giggle, excitedly making your way to sit in between his legs.

jungkook, in the other hand, admist his confusion, still couldn't hold back the little smile that threatened to come out. let's just say...this relationship was more than just being a sugar daddy and sugar baby. for him, at least. he'd like to think so.

you push some of your hair back, brushing it along the way and letting it fall down your shoulders as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. pretty, jungkook thinks.

"what're you going to do?" he asks, voice as gentle as ever.

you let out a long hum, fingers struggling to open the zipper of his trousers. he was rock hard, so it was hard to get the zip down. ugh.

jungkook chuckles at your struggles, "want me to take it off for you?"

you shake your head in denial. no. you were gonna do everything tonight with no help from him. with the help of the strong mentality you've set on getting goal done, you manage to successfully pull the zipper off.

you sigh, relieved, but jungkook just laughs at you, almost mockingly.

"what?" you ask.

"nothing, baby, 'just love watching you trying to please me. you're gonna take my cock tonight? hm?" the corner of his lip curves up.

"hmmmm, yes" you're moaning.

jungkook snorts, as if he's not believing you. but he takes off his trousers and boxers, leaving his lower body bare. you're gulping while staring at his erect cock, finally free from the restraints of his white calvein klein boxers. he's already leaking precum.

you lean forward, taking his fat cock in your hands, giving it a few pumps. smearing the precum all over the tip, you use it as lube, pumping his cock again. it barely fits in your hands. you have to use both your hands to hold it.

your ass was up, back slightly arched as you took his cock in your mouth. a muffled moan immediately escapes you, as you slowly slowly take him in deeper in your mouth inch by inch. fuck, was it hard. suddenly getting the urge to cough, you quickly pull him off of your mouth and turn your head around to cough.

"shit, you okay, doll?"

nodding your head in embarrassment, you take hold of his cock again to leave kitten licks all over it. you begin by licking the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over the small alleyway of his cockhead several times. jungkook hisses at the feeling, eyes droopy. happily, you're licking all over his shaft as if it's your favourite ice cream.

you lick a long stripe up his shaft again, then circling your tongue on the dent in his cockhead. pulling away to spit on his cock, you rub your saliva all over the base with both your hands, then taking his cock in your mouth again.

you sink it down your throat further, slobbering all over his cock, saliva gushing out of your mouth and covering his cock full. his hand instinctively lands on the back of your head, caressing your hair and giving your scalp a subtle massage.

you were so beautiful, he thought.

slowly, you move your head up and down his length, sucking his cock in your mouth. his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat, causing him to let out a few grunts from here and there. he was surprisingly very vocal during sex. and that just got you even wetter.

"mhm, that's right. taking my cock well, huh? taught you good?" his free hand taps your cheek, feeling his cock against your cheek. your cheeks were hollow, your face felt hot. it was obviously heating up, and so was your pussy. jungkook's hand leaves the back of your head to touch your other cheek, both hands holding up your face now as you took him in your mouth. he grunts, releasing another breath.

you slurp up your saliva on his cock only to spit it back, swiping your tongue on his base. you bob your head on his cock, enjoying all of his moans to the fullest. his thumbs swipe over your cheeks repeatedly, wiping away the small tears that are falling down.

"bet you're soaking right now, hm? fhuck—i can imagine how pretty your panties look right now. drenched and sticking to your pussy? isn't that right, angel?"

you hurry to nod your head, still sucking him in your mouth. fuck, you were so cockdrunk. jungkook knew exactly how to get you riled up. the small touches and caresses, holding your face and hair, he knew you liked that. of course he did. he knew your body like the back of his hand.

"yeah?" he acknowledges your nodding, petting your head. you try to best to flash him a smile, moaning in between. "that's right." his palm lays flat on top of your head again as he pushes your head back down on his cock, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat again.

you're pretty sure it's gonna bruise there.

up! down! up! down! you go, warming his cock up by the insides of your mouth. your right hand is wrapped around the rest of his cock that you can't fit while the other squeezed his balls.

the harder jungkook pushed the more you gagged on his cock. it felt suffocating, but you knew jungkook would never do anything to hurt you. you're whining, clawing his thighs. your eyes rolled to the back of your head followed by a series of cusses coming from jungkook's mouth.

"ohhh, oh, hah, fuck, fuck." his head is thrown back against the headboard of the bed. he lets out a whiny little moan, spilling his load into your mouth. jungkook wipes away your tears once you slip his cock out of your mouth with a pop, reassuring you on how well you did.

"you did so well, angel. took my cock so good." he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to raise your head back up. you looked so fucked out just from his dick in your mouth. it was definitely a huge ego boost for him. as much as he loved seeing you pretty and dolled up for him, this look on you has got to be one of his favourites. naked, sweaty and fucked out from his dick. you were so pretty.

"hmm...", he groans, hand sliding up from your left breast to the back of your neck, pulling you on top of him so that you'd be sitting on his lap. "liked having a mouth full of cock?" he grins mockingly, left arm folded on his back as he rests back on it. you nod your head, eyes still closed. the man chuckles, wiping away the drool on your face and chest. he makes sure to wipe his hand on your asscheek also, then slapping it afterwards.

"good now?" he checks up on you.

"yes. all good." you flash him a toothy smile with a thumbs up. jungkook smiles, tongue poking his cheek. "c'mere." he pulls you closer by your waist and securely wraps his right arm around you. your cheek was resting against his peck while he caressed your hair, giving your scalp a few massages here and there.

jungkook trails kisses from the back of your ear down to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick some areas known to make you moan. "let me take care of you, doll."

your sugar daddy gently lays down your body on the bed, hovering over you quickly. he takes a moment to stare down at you, a stupid little smile brightening up his face. you raise your eyebrow, quick to pick up on that. "what? why're you smiling like that?" you ask.

"why not?" jungkook snickers, he pinches the tip of your cheek, thumb gently caressing it afterwards. you feel your cheeks heat up. leaning into his touch, you smile a little.

jungkook lifts you hips up, angling his cock with your entrance and you almost— almost forget your plan. immediately, you halt and place your hand on his chest with a shake of your head.

"why? something wrong?"

you nod your head, gently pushing the man back.

"what're you doing?" you shush him up with your index finger pressed against his lips and shaking your head. jungkook raises his eyebrow.

"i wanna ride you."

jungkook just stares at you as if you've just told him the craziest thing ever, eyes wide as well. stop. this is making you feel embarrassed. what if he just laughs at you?

"what, you're gonna ride me now?" jungkook couldn't help but laugh a little, but immediately shutting himself up when he sees the frown on your face. "okay, sorry, sorry."

"yeah, i am." your voice came out almost inaudible. you felt so small in his large presence. with his big eyes boring into yours, you feel put on the spot. like. like everyone's looking at you holding a mic to your mouth expecting you to talk.

the corner of his lip slightly twitches up, then he breaks into a smile. big hands land on your hips and effortlessly drags you closer to him, he then lifts your chin up, thumb swiping over your lower lip. "sure you won't hurt yourself?"

"yes, daddy. not gonna hurt." jungkook chuckles at the nickname, finding it amusing. you both never really used the name daddy, just once or twice. although, you can't deny how the nickname gets you feeling sort of...thrilled? aroused? jungkook could say the same.

"daddy, huh?" he clicks his tongue.

you nod your head with a small hum, raising your body up to sit on your knees. "lie down, please."

jungkook listens to your request with a teasing smirk on his face. hah, you wanted to fuck that smirk off of him soooooo bad. he lies down on the bed with two pillows supporting his back and makes himself comfortable. he raises his eyebrow watching your puzzled expression, trying really hard to read your face. his legs are spread, fat cock rock hard and leaking that precum you love so much. you gulp down the drool that was already pooled up in your mouth, eyes darting between jungkook's eyes and his cock.

"what're you waiting for? come fuck me, girl."

and you do.

gliding yourself over his muscular thighs, you settle yourself on top of him, your thighs on each side of his waist. you avert your gaze down to his massive cock, twitching with pre cum leaking from the tip, impatiently waiting for you. you take a long deep breath before raising your body over his thighs, then angling your pelvis over his cock. wrapping your hand around his base, you teasingly rub the tip on your folds. jungkook tugs on his lower lip as your pussy twitches against his tip, both your juices slightly mixed with eachother. you raise your hips up again and this time, a string of wetness appears connecting your hole and his reddened tip.

"fucking nasty. you're soaking." jungkook couldn't help but reach out to touch your pussy one more time. you groan once his thumb harshly rubs on your clit while his fingers sunk into your pussy for a moment. he pulls them out before you could even enjoy the feeling, ending it with a slap on your clit. "go on. get on this dick."

jungkook was such a slut.

the moment you finally sink yourself in, or try to, both of you let out a soft gasp, taking in how genuinely tight it felt.

"god, kook...mh", your chest heaved up and down as you balanced yourself, still not fully sunk in his dick yet. you move your hand down there to spread your pussy lips a little further apart, then pushing yourself down a little further.

jungkook stayed silent watching you struggle for a few seconds before deciding to step in. "you okay? want help?" his fingers caressed from your waist to hips, trying to soothe you. you whine, frustrated, ugh—

"i can't. can't do this—mh, too big!"

you give up.

jungkook clicks his tongue, clearly disappointed. he shakes his head, disapproving your decision. "come on, baby. 'know you can do this. you're a hardworking girl. it's okay."

"no, no, no, ahh, can't." you shake your head in denial.

"tsk. no. you're gonna do this. slap my thigh if it's too much, m?" a tear escapes your eye as you finally agree to proceeding to pursue your initial goal. jungkook decides to lend a helping hand by rubbing your clit in various patterns slowly to get you wetter and make it easier for you. "better not cum."

"hmm...", you moan out.

with your throbbing clit being rolled in between the tip of the big man's fingers, you sink your hips down his much bigger dick, eyes widening at the newfound sensation.

"SHIT— oh, mm!" his tip hit your g spot, causing your entire body to tremble a little. the action makes jungkook laugh cockily, his lips forming into a mocking pout.

"gonna cum already? my dick only had to get in? you're that needy?" he slaps your cheeks lightly. you give him nothing but a small enticing glare. jungkook groans and taps your hips as a signal for you to get moving.

your knees buried deep into the bed sheets, you steady yourself before guiding your hips up and down slowly. honestly, it hurt. your walls were so mushy and tight, firmly gripping the base of his cock.

"ah, loosen up, angel. if not, you'll make me cum just from that tightness—shiii."

you try to loosen up your pussy hole, relaxing your entire body but ugh, you just can't do it. with a whine, you continue thrusting yourself downwards on his cock. jungkook adjust himself to you fully— your pussy felt soooo full. so fucking stuffed. his tip reached your womb. you didn't even know having him this deep could be possible. it hurt so bad, yet it felt so good. jungkook's hand reaches behind your back to grab the flesh of your ass and mold it into his liking, slapping and pulling on the flesh.

by now you've learnt how to sit on his dick fully inside. and now, you're doing to fuck it.

"h-haaa—" a breathy moan surpasses through as you begin riding his dick, your walls tightly squeezing in his fat base. your moves were slow and careful, careful trying not to hurt yourself too much. it already hurt so bad, no—burnt. your pussy felt as if it was burning, overwhelmed by the size of his dick. you squeeze your eyes shut, suddenly remembering why you've never tried fully taking him in. cause your cunt was too small! and fuck! does it hurt!

still, you try, brushing away the second thoughts. the skin slapping noises grew louder each thrust as you let his cock hit deeper and deeper areas. jungkook was in pure ecstasy. the most attractive woman he's ever seen (he would never never reveal that to you) is riding his dick. he loved every second of it.

his hands cup your tits through the sheer fabric of your skimpy lingerie, thumbing your nipples hard. he could feel your nipples grow harder, he just could. which drove him crazy. jungkook's thumbs swipe on your nipples, swirling the bud around too. the bridge of his nose brush against your collarbone as he leans his face closer to your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

"i fucking love watching you struggle like this." you grip onto his wrist tightly, twisting it around with your nails digging deep into his skin and probably creating scars. thankfully for your wet slick, it progressively got easier for you to slide up and down.

"take this off. mm, now." his fingers toyed with the straps of your skimpy ass top, tugging on the fragile material and pulling on it. you groan, hurriedly taking off the annoying ass top and throwing it away to let it land on wherever.

you breasts were fully bare for him, big and juicy, nipples hard as fuck. you were such an eye candy. he loved—liked everything about you. so fucking hot. he could go insane.

your jaw falls open, shoulder pushed back and chest popped out as you rode his dick. such a pornographc sight. your tits bounced along with each of your jumps. puffy clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust of your hips, his dark pubic brushing against your clit, creating some sort of friction as well. fuuuck.

jungkook caresses your hips, fingertips also dancing across your asscheeks, bringing you a relaxing feeling amidst the heavy workout you're putting yourself through. you slam yourself onto his dick, pussy quite literally splitting into two. you've never fucked someone this hard. this is so crazy, you're actually taking him— you gasp, letting yourself feel out his dick fully.

fuckfuckfuck you could feel his dick tightly smuggled inside your chubby cunt, feeling out the tight clasp of your walls as you literally squeezed him shut. shit, you're scared he wouldn't be able to pull out even. you're squeezing him that tightly. you hold onto his broad shoulders, long manicured nails digging into the skin, probably—most probably leaving marks. you inhale in the musky scent he always has once he gets back from work. you loooveeee it.

"please, i—literally—like, fawwkkkk jungkook!" jungkook hisses, hands messily searching for the discarded dirty panties on the side of the bed. he finally finds them and brings them upto his nose to take a long sniff out of it. a looongg nasty sniff. "you're so dirty, daddy."

his eyes drift from the dirty material to yours in a second. he quickly dropped it off and snakes his arms from under your thighs to hoist you up the bed. you squeel in surprise, arms immediately wrapping around his neck for stability. jungkook looks at you from below, big doe eyes glistening at you as you stared back. you giggle a little once you feel his hand slap your asscheek and grab it again.

jungkook leans forward to envelope your lips in a sweet kiss. you sigh in content, kissing him back passionately as your tongues swirled on eachother. you both were eating out eachothers face so good. moving your heads rhythmically in sync while your nails scratched his back real good. you exchanged saliva, head tilting to various sides as you shared a sloppy messy kiss. so fucking hot.

"mmh, put it in...", you try to reach behind your back and grab his dick but jungkook beats you to it, swatting your hand away. he grips his cock, squeezing the red tip with a hiss. "inside me, daddy." his mind feels fuzzy as he slides his dick inside you again. this time, it enters pretty easy, much easier than before. well, since you're well lubricated and all. you both moan in sync, shoulders dramatically falling down as he fills you up again. you hug his muscular body, gliding up and down his dick once again. second time feels much better than last. shiiiit.

"you're so big. i—" you sigh deeply, whole cunt swallowing his fat dick. "hm, it slips in so easily now." you grunt into his neck, trying to adjust yourself. "yeah, cause you're slippery as shit."

"c'mon, sweetheart." he pats your back as you start over, again. you begin riding his dick once more, this time gripping onto the head of the bed and his head. "you know you're doing so good, yeah? never been more proud of you." you could feel the bone of his nose poke your neck as he inhales your sweaty scent in. jungkook presses tiny kisses all over your neck, down to your collarbone. little kisses all over your collarbone. little hickeys forming all over your collarbone ૮꒰ ⊃ ⸝⸝ ⊂ ꒱ྀིა

yeah you know what, maybe you overestimated yourself. fuck does this hurt. did your pussy get smaller or what. you were squeezing him so tight. so fucking tight.

"koo— haaarrd... 'm struggling." you grunt into his neck.

"lemme take over, then."

"wha—no. i'm fucking you." you refuse his offer quite literally right away.

"you're barely holding on. can't even keep my dick inside without moving around. hm?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, squeezing your cheeks together mockingly. he treated you as if you were a feeble little being who couldn't even complete the simplest task.

nothing simple about this dick.

he made sure his dick was perfectly tucked inside, ready to absolutely break you apart on it.

your pussy suddenly starts pulsating, clenching around his dick repeatedly. jungkook lets out a gruff moan, palm slapping against your waist.

"stop fucking clenching. you gonna cum, yeah? is that what this is?"

"mmmhm, i don't want to cum." you break into a whine into his shoulder. "'s okay, just let it out on me, yeah?" he sneaks his arm in between you guys and sticks his thumb out on your very swollen clit. you flinch once he starts rubbing your clit, and in no time, you cream his dick.

"fuck, no, i—i don't want to cum yet." you punch his arm and bite his shoulder, agitated that he just had to make you cum. "i wanted to make you cum first. fuck you." "too bad. i barely even moved."

"are you making fun of me?"

"maybe."

you tug on his hair and bite his arm as revenge.

"i haven't cum yet. did you forget?" he pulls on your hair.

"you know that i wanted to ride you." you huff,

"and you did."

"barely." you roll your eyes, snuggling closer into him, face nuzzled into his neck.

"yeah, my bad my dick's too big."

"you're so over the head."

"okay, but we both know i'm right."

"my vagina is burning."

jungkook pinches the top of your ass and flips you over so that you'd be laying on your back. the sudden movement catches you off guard as you yelp in surprise.

"ow! that hurt."

jungkook doesn't respond to you, but slowly, carefully, pulls his dick out of you. he's still rock hard. you're not surprised.

"you said you wanted to make me feel good, yeah?" he caresses the side of your face, moving away each and every hair sticking to your face. gentle kisses all over your face, cheek, nose, eyes—he suddenly stops, the eye contact between you two breaking the moment he looks away. your breath hitch, there's a tingling feeling all over your body, it felt like the tip of a feather gracing over your face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook squeezes the fat of your belly with a soft kiss on top and suddenly—he was so sly with it too—enters his dick inside your cunt again. “AH!”, you yelp out due to the sudden waves of pain and pleasure sent right from your swollen fucking pussy.

“Come on, girl, take it. I know you can—haah.”

He plunges his dick deep in you with a hard thrust and immediately going at it. He didn’t stop. No he did not. Jungkook rutted into your wet cunt like an animal in heat, desperate to hear the high pitch moans coming out of your swollen lips.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arched and gasps left your lips repeatedly. It hurt so bad. Your pussy was fucking burning. It hurt so bad that it felt so good. He’s never done this before. He’s never probably been inside you fully. You swore to the heavens above that your cunt was already torn apart. There was no way.

“Jungkook—mmhphhhhhhhhhttttt!!! It hurts so much! Stop, ah, fuck!”

You raise your legs up, slinking them around his toned sweaty fucking torso. Jungkook grabbed a handful of your meaty thighs, using the fat for support to cling onto you more.

“Please! Stopstopstopstop it hurts so much!”

You didn’t actually want him to stop. You would’ve used to the safe word if so, you and him both knew that very well.

Jungkook grunts in annoyance with a slap on your ass to shut you up.

“Shut up and take my fucking dick. You wanted this. Finish what you’ve started. Take my fucking dick like you said you would!”

He was so big.

“You’re a big girl made for taking big fucking cocks like mine, yeah?”

Without a warning, his palms slap against both your asscheeks before hoisting your entire body up into his arms. Jungkook had you on top of his thighs, carrying your entire weight on his arms as he thrusted from below. His thrusts were so harsh and aggressive with the intention of only wrecking your pussy apart. You were bounced on his cock like a ragdoll. He used you for his pleasure, letting his cock mold the insides of your pussy to the perfect shape that'll fit him always.

"I'm not letting this pussy go now. Hah", he rocks your body upwards again, letting you fall onto his. you cling onto his body for dear life, arms wrapped around his neck, breasts bouncing in front of his face. you could feel his balls slap against your ass repeatedly. they were wet, slimey and sticky. he spread the stickyness on his balls everywhere, constantly reminding you of the fact that he was deep inside you now. like, finally.

"da-ddy! i can't believe you're fucking me like t-this."

you close your eyes tight, your nails gripping onto jungkook's scalp as you let out a scream.

"please, oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD! i'm g'na- HAAH!"

jungkook recognizes the familiar high pitched sound you make, hand sneakily rubbing your puffy clit again. and as a cherry on top, he spreads your ass cheeks apart and sneaks his thumb in between to penetrate your neglected tight little hole. he rubs your hole and inserts the tip of his finger in, repeating the process after. You were so tight down there, considering the fact that you were still an ass virgin. He always said he was gonna take your ass sometime, but you always said no. This was your first time. Fuck.

The finger in your ass caught you off guard as you let out a shriek, your asshole immediately tightening at the sensation.

“Jung…hah. My ass—hhnmpht!”

He shushes you up with a kiss and got into work, rubbing your swollen little clit with his right hand and finger your tight asshole with his left hand, all while his cock absolutely ruined you from below.

“Stop! Too much! Too much! Too much!”

You slobber all over his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as your entire body shiver and crumble against him. You didn’t have to tell Jungkook once, he knew you were just about to cum.

“Cum, baby. Let go. You’ve done amazing.” He fastens his pace on your clit, giving you just enough simulation.

“Ah! I’m g’na pee! FuckfuckfuckfuckSTOP!!”

You let out one more loud cry before aggressively trembly. Your pussy is so used and swollen and your ass hurts so much. Fuck. It didn’t take that long till your pussy starts squirting angrily. Your eyes widen, back arching as you let your pussy take full control of your body.

Jungkook pulls out of you for a brief moment to let you squirt wherever. His hand never left your clit though, continuing to rub at an increased speed. Your pussy convulses aggressively, squirting on everything and everywhere. The sheets behind you were fully drenched with your squirt and so was his dick, that was right under you.

“I’m sorry I’m making a mess all over your bed,” you cry into his shoulder, completely overwhelmed with everything that’s happening.

You’re still squirting. You don’t know if you’re actually squirting or just straight up pissing yourself on him. This was so embarrassing. Your face was so red. This is so humiliating fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m so”—you choke,“—embarrassed. Ahh, I’ve ruined everything.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. Jungkook understood that this was an intense moment for you. You’ve squirted before, but never this hard. He soothes you by bringing you into his embrace, tracing patterns on your back to help you calm down.

You choke on your tears again. You were crying so much. You’ve never cried this much during sex before. As concerned he was for you, he was starting to admit he liked that sight. He liked it when you were crying out for him.

You let out the last bit of squirt on his cock, drenching him fully. Jungkook’s cock twitches, it’s angry head starting to let out spurts of cum.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe it. He was cumming. He was cumming so hard from just watching you orgasm. He was getting off to your orgasm.

“Fuck. Shit. Oh my god”, Jungkook groans. He throws his head backwards, letting his cum spurt out as you squeezed his balls. There was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as his face changed into various expressions as he emptied his balls into your mouth.

You made sure to put your mouth on it and let his cum fall right onto your tongue, just how he liked it. And you also made sure to swallow it all, just how he liked it.

You were still getting off of your high as well, body still crumbled against his.

“It’s okay, babygirl”, Jungkook coos into your ear and soothingly rubs your pussy slowly with your palm till you calm down.

“It stings”, you whine.

“Hmm, I know, baby. Take a deep breath.”

You obey him, taking a deep breath as he wiped off your tears. You sniffle. Your pussy was still throbbing and hole gaping. Fuck. You’re gonna stay stretched like this for a while. He ripped you apart.

“My gorgeous girl. You did so well.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can’t believe I fucking came to you squirting”, he chuckles.

“I wanted you to cum in my pussy.” You whine, spreading your pussy lips apart once again.

“I know. But this is more than enough. You know I get off to your orgasms.” He swats your hand away.

“Let her rest.” Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your swollen worn out pussy.

You cry out, scooting closer to him.

Jungkook then picked you up, took you to the bathroom, made you pee, and brought you back to bed after changing the sheets.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

What?