#and now i feel like i'll lose that again soon

[obito-in-disguise]

| Your company |

You want Choso's attention but he's too busy gaming.

So much for this sleepover. You fell asleep for one second, and the next thing you know, Choso was fused to that damn game, yelling obscenities and laughing with his friends.

He was supposed to be paying attention to you.

You’d worn cute pajamas for him, damn it.

You huff, rolling over for the umpteenth time before the pang of restlessness pushes you out of bed. If he won’t come to you, perhaps you should go to him.

The sound of his voice leads you to the gaming room. He’s on the edge of his seat, fingers punishing the controller buttons as the glow of the screen reflects in his eyes.

"Cho?…" you murmur, closing the door softly behind you.

His head immediately snaps over in your direction. He pauses the game, slipping his headset partially off his head before holding his arm out for you.

"Hey sleepyhead, you're finally awake now?"

You walk into his outstretched arm, carding your fingers through his hair as he grabs your hips, smiling up at you.

"Be for real, I fell asleep for like 10 seconds"

He chuckles sheepishly, brushing his thumbs over the skin of your hips gently. "Sorry, I thought you were out for the night...want me to turn off the game?"

His mouth is saying one thing but his eyes are basically pleading with you to say no. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, shaking your head.

"I'm bored, I just wanna hang out"

He grins, sliding a hand underneath your thighs while the other grips your waist as he scoops you up and situates you in his lap.

"Then hang out we shall. Comfortable?" He murmurs, watching you wiggle to get comfortable in his lap, smiling when you nod.

He removes the headset from his head, placing it on yours. "You ever played COD before?"

"No..." You murmur taking the controller he was handing you.

"I'll teach you then" he chuckles, watching you fumble with the controller.

He gently places one hand over yours, using the other to tug you into him more so he can rest his chin on your shoulder.

"let's try practice mode first, then you can play with the big dogs"

"With your friends?" You say, your eyes wide. He nods, laughing a little.

"No way cho, they're always mean to girls!"

He laughs again, his body shaking with the movement. "Don't be scared baby, no one will be mean to you while I'm here, I promise" he brushes his lips over your shoulder, rubbing your arms to reassure you.

Over the next 30 minutes, Choso teaches you the basics (I don't know shit about COD ya'll I'm sorry) till he feels confident enough in your crash course skills.

"You ready?" He asks as the game loads, placing a kiss of reassurance on your cheek.

"What if I lose?" He can't help but laugh at how petrified you look.

"It's ok, I'll carry us to victory if necessary"

Your eyes widen as the game connects "wait cho, I change my m-"

"Yo, Choso! Took you long enough -wait, who was that?"

Choso grins, squeezing you waist softly. "My girl. She's playing with us tonight."

"Oh hi y/n!" You hear Yuji's voice through the speaker. He was Choso's younger brother after all, you'd hung out a couple of times.

"Hi Yuji" you giggle at his enthusiasm. As soon as you reply Yuji, the party chat floods with choruses of 'hi y/n!'s. Maybe his friends weren't so scary after all, you laugh trying your best to respond to all of them.

"Damn Choso, you got a girl? we thought you were married to your controller, bro!"

Laughter erupts, and you feel your face heat up. Choso laughs along. "Ha ha. but she's about to smoke y’all. Be nice, or you're getting booted from the party."

"Wait, wait...she’s never played before, right?"

You're about to defend yourself when choso cuts in.

"Doesn't matter," he says confidently. "I taught her"

The game starts, and you're immediately overwhelmed by the chaos on the screen. People are yelling callouts, explosions rock the battlefield, and your character is spinning in circles.

"Baby" Choso says gently. "You're… staring at the sky."

"I knew it, I suck" you groan, trying to regain control.

"Don't sweat it" one of his friends says. "We've all been there. Hey, watch out for that-"

Too late. Your character gets shot, and you hear the death notification.

"I quit cho" you mutter with dramatic despair, collapsing back into him.

He chuckles, taking the controller from your hands and effortlessly covering for you.

"Good job y/n!" "Yeah you did great!"

You know they were lying out of their asses but you appreciated their encouragement. You thank them and settle on watching Choso play instead.

He shouts in victory, nearly tossing you off his lap as he and his friends cheer when they win the level.

He looks down, smiling softly when he sees you blinking up at him sleepily.

"You good, baby?"

"Yeah," you yawn. "You're pretty decent at this."

He chuckles, eyes gleaming. "Pretty decent? I carried the whole game!"

"Sure you did, pro gamer," you tease, leaning into him.

He knows he's kept you up too late so he bids his teammates goodnight and turns off the game. "Come on, sleepyhead."

He lifts you with practiced ease, holding your thighs securely as he heads toward the bedroom.

"Good job today, you played so well"

"Stop lying" you scoff, earning you a chuckle from him.

His laughter intensifies when he reaches the bed and tries to put you down, watching as you clung to him the whole way down till he eventually lays down himself.

You snuggle up to him, invading his personal space as best as you can. He doesn’t mind one bit, propping a hand up behind his head, using the other to hold you close.

"I'm sorry i ditched you for my game, but this wasn't a bad sleepover after all"

He frowns when he's met with silence. He looks down to find you already asleep, the speed with which you feel asleep never ceased to amaze him.

He was sure if he woke you up right now, you'd deny you were sleeping and insist 'you were resting your eyes' but he was content with having you in his arms either way. He pulls you closer, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight baby"

This might be my favourite thing I've written this month. I live for soft Choso.

Feel free to check out more of my jjk fics and other stories!

tiny taglist: @catlover19282

[silvercoloredskiess]

Why won't you play with me? - Stalker Squid Game Recuiter x Female Reader

Synopsis: When you say no to the contact card for the squid game. you start to notice suspicious behavior.. perhaps a stalker?

Content warnings: Stalking, little bit yandere, mentions of killing, it's said you don't have a lot of money. One use of a swear word. Creepy behavior from a worker at a cafe. This story has a not-so-happy ending.

Sorry if this is bad, I tried ;-; ending is a little rushed

Word count: 1,896

Have fun :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't doing so good financially, with millions of won in debt. You couldn't find a job anywhere and was worried you might just live the rest of your life like this forever. It truly was the worst way to die in your mind.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the subway station for no particular reason, when a very handsome man wearing a grey suit and a big smile on his face approached you with red and blue ddakji in his hands. He offered to let you play, so you tried and tried again, getting a slap each time you messed up since you refused to pay the fee for losing the game. You only endured this because you were promised a reward for winning.

After finally flipping the other ddakji tile over, you were given a small business card by the man, which had three shapes on the front and a number to call on the back. But you had heard rumors about a mysterious entity behind that number. Even though you were desperate for anything, this wasn't it.

You broke the man's smile when you gave him the card back and walked away. That was a big, big mistake. But you didn't know that yet, so there you were going back to your apartment, the place you were going to be evicted from soon if you couldn't pay rent. You barely scraped by last month.

Walking to the entrance of your room, you teared up when you saw an eviction notice paper taped to the door. How has it already been a month? What will you do now? Where would you stay now...?

You opened the door and sighed, falling onto your bed. You were trying to come up with reasons as to why it was good that you didn’t accept the card, but admittedly you struggled. But no time for getting caught up on something you can’t change.

While you were sleeping, there was some mysterious knocks on your window, and a tall silhouette. Thankfully you slept past it. You did wake up to another card on the table next to your bed; but it was a different number. Where did this card come from..?

You threw it out and took a walk outside. Even if you got a job now, you couldn't pay rent in time because you already got an eviction notice. But now you needed to figure out where to live. Were you going to live on the streets, especially in this frigid weather?

But you had a feeling like you were being watched. Even in the empty streets of the early morning, you definitely weren't alone. You went into a lightly occupied cafe to avoid the feeling, and used some of your spare won to buy a coffee. But the man behind the counter smirked at you.

"Well aren't you a pretty woman? Smile a little more, y'know? I'll give you a discount on that mocha if you do. Women are much prettier when they smile for men.." He then snickered a little. You didn't find his quip funny. The man glanced at a mysterious person who came up to the counter, handing over 8,700 won (~$6) to him.

"I'd like to pay for her order, sir" the hooded person said, glancing at you briefly, eyeing you up. You thanked the person when the order was processed and a barista was making your coffee. Before you could, however, the person walked away. That was strange.

The temperature of your coffee was perfect for your frozen body to warm up a little. It was nice to just be able to relax a little. You spent around forty minutes in the shop before you went back to your apartment. You still had chills from the strange person who paid for your coffee. It was likely a coincidence. Perhaps you weren't used to people doing nice things for you?

That was until you unlocked your apartment door and stepped in, only to find an envelope with a letter inside. Since when did this get in your apartment? Did someone break in? You were shaking as you read the letter;

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dear (y/n),

I know you're struggling. Why did you decline my offer to help you, sweetheart? You could live so much better.. what is it you're still clinging onto? There's not much going for you after that eviction notice I saw on your door the other day.

By the way dear, I'm sorry you had to deal with that shitty worker at the cafe. But lucky for you, I already took the trash out.

-Your secret admirer"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your heart stops for a moment, your hands barely gripping the note. What offer was this person talking about. But when you connected the dots; it all made sense. This had to be the same person who left a contact card in your room recently. But was this also the same person that paid for your coffee?

But you were more concerned about what they meant by "taking the trash out" when referring to that creepy coffee shop worker. At this point you were too scared to go out anymore. You spent the rest of the day indoors, your brain going around in circles. You weren't sure what problem to fixate on; your eviction, or your stalker.

You switch on your TV and let the news play in the background while you ate your cup of instant noodles. Some minutes later, you hear a reporter say,

"A man in Seoul has just been murdered in the back of a coffee shop. Unfortunately due to the quality of the footage, we can’t see the murderer’s face much. Police are currently working on this case. The murder is seen brutally stabbing the man many times. His body was laid in a corner before the murder fled the scene."

You couldn't believe what you heard. You recognized the worker's face. And the murder was definitely the one who wrote the note. You weren't sure what exactly was going on. Lightheaded, you went to sleep early. You were worried of what this person would try to do to you. The doors and windows were locked so you would be safe.

And you thought that until you woke up the next morning. Something felt very off. Those suspicions were right when you started checking your apartment, only to find that some of your belongings had been stolen. You were extremely scared. So you quickly picked up your phone and called the police. They arrived in a few minutes to check our your place and try to identify the robber.

Due to the severity of it, you were asked to go to the police office with the officers for further research. You spent a while there, sitting silently in a chair while a few cops there investigated the camera footage. One of them brought up the idea that the burglar could be the same person as the one who killed someone just yesterday evening. However there wasn't enough evidence to make that claim.

But based on the past events, you knew it had to be true. You told the officers about your stalking suspicions, and gave them the note. There was no other reason your apartment in particular would be targeted by a burglar. You also gave them the contact card that was left in your apartment as well. One of the officers looked up the number, but they couldn't find any info.

They assumed it must've been a fake number. And that's what you liked to believe too. After around thirty minutes of more investigation, you were let go. They told you they would contact you if they had any updates. For now, you needed to find somewhere else to live. It wasn't going to be long before you had to move out anyway, but you were more urgent now.

As you walked back home, you still had this uncomfortable feeling. It didn't resolve when you entered your apartment. Little did you know the whole place had been bugged while you were asleep. The camera footage did show the person tampering with items, but because the cameras were so tiny, you didn't see them. If only you knew this fact.

You walked to your room, but when you closed the door...

"AAAAAAAAH" You screamed when your eyes laid on the extremely familiar man in his well tailored suit. His mischievous eyes looked down at your terrified face.

"We meet again, though it hasn't been too long since I've encountered you." He smiled, chuckling a little bit. "Remember me at all?"

You froze still. "Yes... I remember you. Why are you here-"

"That doesn't matter at this moment. I want to know why you rejected my offer to help you. After all, I simply wanted to help a cute lady like you, but my offers were useless."

"Why does it matter? It's been a few days. Leave me alone!" You snapped back.

"When I was walking around the train station, I saw the helpless look on your face. I just couldn't bear seeing such a beautiful woman like you suffer in this cruel, unforgiving world. Don't you see I was doing this to help you..?

"Your actions didn't help! I've heard of the entity behind that number. I wouldn't ever risk my life for money. I know life will be difficult, but I'll eventually find a place to live."

"But sweetheart, life doesn't have to be this hard. It could be so much easier. If it wasn't already conveyed by my looks, I'm a very wealthy man. If you just live with me, I'll give you whatever you desire. And trust me darling, a billionaire like me doesn't even have to think of an eviction..."

He put a finger on your lips.

"And plus, I think I'm far too attached to you to let you go. You'll be so much happier with me." His grip on your wrist was even tighter, so you struggled to escape.

Suddenly, you lost consciousness,and got very sleepy. When you woke up, you found yourself inside a very large bedroom. You were lying on the king-sized bed. You wondered how you got here. You heard a voice next to you, so you turned only to see the same man, his legs crossed as he sat in a chair.

"Well good morning, (y/n). Notice anything different?"

"WHERE AM I? WHERE DID YOU TAKE ME!?" You yelled at him, frantically looking around. But you were too tired to move.

"All bark, no bite." The man snickered at your actions. "Anyway, you are in my mansion. This will be your bedroom. From here now on, you will be utterly mine. Don't worry, you'll be allowed outside, occasionally." He then laughed.

"And yes, I know you'll ask if I was the same person who killed that cafe worker and left you those cards. And the answer is yes. For now though, let's ignore all of that."

You were horrified at your current situation. But what was the point in fighting back? He would always find a way to take you back anyway. At first, you were very feisty and sassy, but some months later you succumbed to your situation, basking in the luxuries of never having to worry about bills or rent.

Maybe this life wasn't so bad after all.

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part v

summary: when the real threat of losing you to someone else becomes reality, what will minho do?

warnings: mentions of sex, female masturbation

part iv • masterlist

Seeing him sit outside your door, almost as disheveled as you was the last thing you expected. He was wearing those godforsaken grey sweats again with a t shirt and flannel. The way his eyes raked up your body taking in your appearance made you feel small, seeing he was already dissecting every inch of you to figure out where exactly you had been.

"You weren't answering your phone... I figured if I sat out here you'd come out eventually..." He trails off, the question about where you were hangs off his tongue.

There's a brief pause as you hold his gaze trying to decide if you should answer with an explanation or another question. Silence follows as you move to your apartment door, opening it for both of you to step inside. If he wanted answers, he would have to work for it.

"... where.... where were you?" He said looking at you still trying to decipher what's happening at this very moment.

"I... I stayed the night with a guy I met last night."

The tension was thick as you swallowed, meeting his gaze. His face remained stoic, any hint of disapproval or disgust or anger was undetectable. He just nodded once as if to say he understood that was enough to answer his question.

"I'm sorry.. for not calling or texting to let you know I was fine... I'm also sorry for exploding on you yesterday. I know you didn't mean to be hurtful."

He nods softly looking down before speaking up.

"I'm really sorry for what I said... I just want you to be safe.. and happy most of all... Since, you seem fine, I'll head home."

He turns his back to you heading for the door.

"Minho.." He stops in his tracks looking up at you, keeping that stoic face. "You don't have to go... so soon..."

He sighs before walking over to you, he brings you in for a small hug before patting your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It's all he gives you as he walks out leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment, somehow feeling guilty. His lack of a reaction felt jilting.

-

Minho went straight home, changing into gym clothes. He grabbed his bag, heading straight to the place he knew he could get out his frustrations in a safe way.

Throwing punch after punch into the body bag that swings from the ceiling. It isn't until Chan intervenes that he stops, the older warning him he needs to stop before he breaks his hand. Out of breath and sweaty, he reluctantly sits on the nearby bench where Chan watches as he takes off the glove revealing a very irritated hand, skin littered with popped blood vessels that would turn into bruises soon.

"What's up with you?" Chan knew him all too well, he could always tell the difference between Minho coming to work out to get a work out in versus the beaten down version of Minho that sat in front of him.

"She... She went out yesterday and this morning when I went by her apartment, she was coming back from staying the night at someone's place...."

Chan was fully aware of the longstanding feelings Minho had for you. He had known for years. Watching him get into a few relationships hoping to fill the void of not being able to have you as a romantic partner. Or whenever you got into a relationship and Minho would sulk like a battered cat. Chan sighs as he looks ahead.

"Okay, let me ask you this, why is it any different now then when she was dating someone?"

Minho can't meet his gaze.

"You know her better then anyone else, it was a fling, a one night stand that probably meant nothing-"

"She never stays the night." Minho's voice cuts him off.

"What?"

"She never stays the night, she always gone home after. So she either she liked it enough... or liked him enough... to stay until the morning."

"That doesn't mean anything, she could've been too tired to go home or.." Chan stops himself realizing whatever rational explanation he gave him wouldn't console his pouty friend.

"I just want her to see me... see me as someone who can be there to take care of her... Someone who could actually love her the way she deserves..." Minho trails off looking down.

"You can't keep sulking like this every time there's a slight chance that she either gets a boyfriend, which I am not implying that this is what this is, or starts to find interest in someone else... Either fess up or live with this reality."

Minho stares at his hands as bruises bloom over his knuckles. He huffs before standing up heading to the showers.

-

You stir the sauce around in the pot as the smell of sage & butter waft through the place. You can't help how easily you find Minho's scent pushing through even as you cook, it was almost nauseating. You place a headphone in your as you continue talking to Hyunjin on the phone. He was busy tonight and well... your body needed time to recover.

"I have a question and you can't make fun of me or laugh," You say as you take a clean spoon tasting the sauce before moving to put your gnocchi into the pan with the sauce."

"Okay, what's your question?" He asks hearing you stir the pasta around through phone, he imagines what you're wearing as you cook.

"When you asked me about the last time I had sex..." You say hesitantly waiting for him to laugh.

"Yeah, what about it?" He says matter of factly as he recalls the event.

"How... How did you know that I hadn't... in a while? Is that some sort of Alpha instinct that's kept secret?"

He stifles his laugh at the 2nd question not wanting to break the promise he agreed to.

"No, not necessarily... It's the same as when you kiss someone who's never kissed anyone before. You just kinda... feel it?"

"Are you say I was bad in bed?" You ask teasingly.

"God, no! It's just... I could sense... it had been a while and... I never thought of myself as someone who was stellar at sex but at minimum I know how to pleasure my partner," he pauses for a moment before continuing, "So with you, I thought you were either just really sensitive or... it had been a while... so when I asked it wasn't because I knew but just needed to reaffirm my initial... assumption."

"I don't know if I should feel offended or not.." You joke trying to come off as reassuring him that you were prodding for answers.

He didn't come off as some typical macho Alpha who thought of himself as a sex god but it was reassuring to know he knew himself well enough to be able to pleasure his partners.

The two of you continued to talk as you had your dinner with a small glass of wine to unwind a bit.

"I should probably let you go, have to prepare for my stuff for my classes tomorrow." You say with a sigh feeling a bit warm from the wine that made your cheeks tinge with a warmth that felt like the sun beaming down on you.

"When can I see you again?" He asks with a stupid grin that you can hear through the phone.

"Hmm... How about Friday night?" You ask in a flirty voice.

"Killing me here, I don't think I can wait that long..."

"First week back is always a bit chaotic so you'll just have to survive!" You tease as you stretch from your seat at the dinner table. He laughs warmly before reluctantly agreeing.

After letting him go from the call you clean up the mess from your dinner packing it away for a lunch for you and Minho tomorrow, an olive branch lunch that's packed with the a blueberry muffin you made for the morning. Food and gift giving was a mutual language between the two of you, that often meant gifting each other lunch or sweets.

You finally make your way to bed staring up at the ceiling as you try to get comfortable. You scroll through instagram for a bit swiping through peoples stories before you're forced to do a double- no, triple take at Chan's story. Chan was a friend of Minho and Jisung that you hung around often when you had group outings or house parties for 3Racha's demo releases. You had grown a bit closer to him with every time you saw him, he was another Alpha who had an understanding for your frustrations for other alphas of the male population.

The video was Minho boxing, repeatedly hitting a body bag... wearing was quite possibly the sluttiest thing a man could wear to the gym. It was a black compression shirt that the gave the perfect outline of his tits pecs in the shirt. There were very few occasions you had seen true anger or frustration from Minho, but it was obvious he was heated as he took repeated swings to the body bag that swung from the ceiling with the force of every hit.

Would it be wrong to admit how incredibly turned on it made you to see every muscle in his arms engaged making his pec's move and his stature seem so much bigger?

Either way it didn't stop you from you from watching it over and over until you felt the familar wetness pool in your underwear. Forcing you to reach beneath the fabric as you turned over rubbing your clit while imagine what it'd be like for him to fuck you with same aggression he took out on that body bag. Even as you orgasmed you couldn't help choking out his name in a whimper muffled by the pillow.

-

The next morning Minho came by to pick you up, driving you both to campus as you had worked out your schedules to work out so that you two would either start at the same time and likely end your days at the same time. He waited down stairs outside of his jeep waiting for you to come out, he always parked and stepped out to be the one to open your car door.

He watched you emerge with your shoulder brown satchel bag on and a bag of what looked like food. His eyes took in the way your hair perfect fell around your face, the perfectly slouched light wash of jeans and white buttoned blouse.

"Good Morning, Min, ready to deal with the nightmare of parking on the first day back?" You ask teasingly as you walk up to his side. He gives you a soft smirk rolling his eyes as he opens the door for you letting you climb in to the car waiting for you to settle before closing it and getting into the driver seat.

He wore his typical, light wash of jeans with an oversized grey hoodie that always looked so much cozier on him then anything else. It was typical for him as he didn't always want to wear sweats despite being a dancer needing the free flow of the material.

"The only thing I'm looking forward to is finally being able to choose good songs for the choreographies this year." He says as he starts the car.

Minho had recently stepped up into the role as captian of their dance crew this year. He was nominated by the last captain and most of his juniors, surpassing some of the seniors in which it would've been their last year to lead as captain. He had been the youngest member to get the position in the last 10 years.

"Oh that's right! What time are you supposed to meet today?" You ask as you open the bag of food you had brought.

"3:30pm, I'll be going over the rules and expectations then getting the new dancers settled in. I'm a bit nervous about getting them to see me as a leader of the group now.." He grips the steering wheel a bit tensely.

"It'll come with time but I'm sure you got it. And if they don't, then they're free to go else where if they don't like it." You say offering him words of encouragement. He glances over giving you a soft smile thanking you.

The car is filled with chatter and laughter, an easy feeling, a stark contrast to what yesterday felt like. A mutual unspoken understanding between the two of you to move forward. He finds parking in a building near your class as, before getting out you hand him the lunch you made him.

"Here, your lunch and a blueberry muffin of apology..." You say a bit quieter than you meant.

"Apology? For what?" He tilts his head taking the food staring at you with those endearing brown eyes.

"I don't know.. I just felt guilty about how worried I made you..." You say looking at him a bit solemnly.

"You don't need to apologize for anything, I was an asshole... However, I still will be devouring this muffin with or without an unnecessary apology." He says gleefully as he takes a bite moaning dramatically as the taste hits his mouth, making you laugh as he makes a mess of himself.

He couldn't help but feel simultaneously guilty and warm at the idea that you felt so bad that you needed to bake him a muffin for him to feel remedied. His dramatic eating of the muffin made the unease you felt from the day before lighter.

The two of you walked towards the english building, light chatting as he threw an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. Minho enjoyed the feel of you close against him knowing once you pulled away, the scent would be all over him for the rest of the day. The sweet smell of dark cherries and almond bitters that made him feel like he just walked into a bakery. He kisses the top of your head before parting ways, it was something he did often but this time it made your heart do a flip.

Moving through your classes with much ease, it's around 4pm you finish the last. You walk through the campus, taking in the breeze that blows through the shaded areas as the sun sits still high in the sky. You find the arts building, sitting on an empty bench with a book as you decided to wait for Minho to finish his dance class. You glanced through the window looking to see Minho at the head of the class leading, he looked like he was starting to go through the choreo he had made a few weeks ago to start the class on. You can see Felix's blonde hair bobbing around making you laugh as you see his half ponytail flopping around with every move.

Your laughing is cut short as you gasp for air seeing Hyunjin's reflection in the mirror dancing beside Minho. His body moving fluidly as he follows Minho's instructions, you duck down beneath the window contemplating on running away. It's too late for decision to be made as Jisung begins to approach about to yell your name in typical Jisung fashion. Abandoning your belongings on the bench as he begins to pass approach the open door that leads directly into the dance room, as you approach Jisung at a desperate speed to clamp your hand over his mouth, it's too late as he utters the first letters forcing you turn just in time to become in line of sight of Minho and Hyunjin who glance in your direction. They both wave with a smile on their face before the realization hits that their eyes are on the same person.

part vi

[miodiodavinci]

man , , , ,

i've tried putting it into words but i think it's just easier to say

i feel like i'm hiding from being online again but like. turbo hard this time in that sometimes i even get anxious before reblogging something Privately to my Private Side Account that has like. Three Whole Followers. it feels really fucking bad because ->

work is running me ragged i think , , , , part of the reason i Am constantly hiding when i am online is that i get home and do so much after-work-prep-work-for-more-work that i end up just. totally spent and just want to turn off my brain and recharge for a while (which sucks when social media feels like an ongoing game of "don't let anyone know you're there!!!!!! or else you'll get sucked into MORE expectations!!!!!!!!!!")

like at the very least, things are not Degree + Internship Bad™ (read: torment is endless, brain feels like overcooked steak, weeping at my desk every other night, feels like if i don't get a break soon, i might actually lose it)

they are still like. "i am getting little pockets of sustenance in my life but good GOD i need a chance to just. do all play. not be working. for fuck's sake."

regarding online feelings, somehow feel an ongoing mixture of "fuck i need to get back into making covers because otherwise i Literally do not put effort into making cool art" + "i do not want to be seen. i literally just want to hang out with my friends and not be online anymore." + "FUCK FUCK FUCK I'M MISSING OUT I'M FALLING BEHIND AAAAAA" + "I Am Squandering Every Ounce Of Good Will And Love I Have Received Over The Past 10 Years Through This Hiatus"

but also like. jesus christ i am still so burnt out. it is a miracle i can open ms paint and doodle every now and then. i think doing the yamaha collab on top of getting my degree and doing an internship hurt me in a tangible way.

i'm still really glad i did it but also like. oh god i don't think i could ever again.

i have. so many WIP voicebanks i Need to finish but i think before i can do any of that i need to let go of whatever i was aiming for with salvador and just. settle back into "you make it + you draw it + you pick your favorite song and release it <3333"

i have covers i've made now OTL but the art and mixing are 100% holding me back

i don't know when i'll be back. i'd like to eventually have UTAU things to share, but it's hard to know when i can get the engine to finally turn over and i can finally get a voicebank finished. i am simply the king of recording and never finishing the oto <3333

that being said like. none of this is a cry for help. i am writing this to get it out there, and that's that 👍 i will be fine regardless, as i have been fine for the past however many years of my life w

TL;DR: maaaaaaan i just want to have a solid month of elementary school summer. y'all remember elementary school summer?? i just want to play games with my friends all day and then work on cool stuff at night and go to sleep soooo comfortable and wake up refreshed and do it all over again <33333 i think that would fix me <3333

[crowfromfoggyforest]

tfw you literally just got out of a burnout-like state, but it's the end of the semester so you know the next few weeks will be really stressful and taxing again

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[teddybeartoji]

thank you everybody who crossed their fingers and toes bc aventurine AND acheron are now both safely at home:3333333333

[iniziare]

Escaping life's big stresses for just a little bit to note something that I feel is likely not needed, but I still want to make note of. And maybe this topic/thought is brought to me a bit too much by a random thought about Rusty Ryan, but still: his 'luck'.

I think it's important to note that Aventurine's good outcomes do not merely depend on the presence of luck, but are, instead, a combined manifestation of that and immensely intricate strategizing, although I will say confidently that I think it's a whole lot more of the latter, than the former. As I've seen said before, professional gamblers don't actually rely on luck as much as we think that they do, instead, a lot of it is based within substantial amounts of strategy, mathematics, and understanding of human psychology, and I think the story of Penacony is incredibly telling of that. Details such as Sunday not noticing that the Cornerstone in front of him was actually the Jade stone, instead of the Aventurine stone, play into chance, but it's a rather low-risk one, for jade and aventurine are very commonly mistaken for one another (the symbooolism), and only one truly versed in the field of gemstones, could properly tell the difference without taking quite some time to look. To assume Sunday to simply be one of the masses, isn't a risky or odd assumption to make at all, as nothing about him would truly indicate the opposite (and also, look at his character traits). So while all could have gone detrimentally differently if he had noticed that it was the Jade stone, and thus the risk would have been an expensive one, it wasn't actually likely to backfire. Many parts of Aventurine's plan were really quite calculated, instead of left up for chance, including Acheron drawing her blade against him (he taunted it to such magnitude after all, so it was unlikely that she wouldn't), and even the "betrayal" from Veritas Ratio. The latter is in all ways, incredibly clever, and Aventurine, just like many others in the HSR universe, knows that he is, and so it was incredibly likely that Ratio, who is rooted in always calculating all odds, strategizing, and so forth, would figure out Aventurine's plan, and thus 'intentionally' but unintentionally so, join in on the plan. Did you see Aventurine's smirk when he turned to Ratio after "betraying" him? Yeah, that seals this take for me. So, is there chance involved there? Sure, but again, chance becomes a whole other game when you take likelihoods into account, which are all based on variables that can be calculated ahead of time without any stretch of the imagination. This is what makes a great gambler, a great gambler. And that is exactly what Aventurine is, but not solely because he 'was blessed with luck' that would make all his schemes automatically more successful, despite his family (sister particularly) trying to make it seem that way, but because he is incredibly clever, something that Acheron herself also makes note of in the following:

Acheron: You possess great cunning. Deliberately setting us up to be on opposing sides, constantly repeating the words of the Emanator in front of others, leaving me no choice but to draw my blade against you. Acheron: And that's how you win. Opportunity and strategy, both are essential.

But, Aventurine has always had a clever little head on his shoulders, as was made apparent in a flashback with his sister, as shown in Double Indemnity (I also need to note how I love how he 'shows off' his cleverness as a young child):

Kakavasha: Sister, don't be afraid. The Katicans are fools, but I'm smart. I played a "game" with them, and I won. ???: Won? What happened exactly? Tell me. Kakavasha: I made a bet with them — the two birds in the desert and me, who will die first? I won. They suspected me of cheating, but I didn't... I won fair and square.

[ame-to-ame]

.

[imthatwannabeauthor]

.

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[queerplatonicdiaries]

less than a week until I move in with my squish and get to see them again aaaaaaaa

I have never felt such an intense mix of excitement and fear and longing,, send help

[girlivealwaysbean]

.

vent

[i-appear-misssing]

So what if we stayed out until the wee hours of morning talking and talking and talking and talking while everyone else had left like 5 hours earlier and what if she let me see her cry when she said she hadn't cried in a very long time and what if I held her so tight while she sobbed on my shoulder and I felt her heartbeat against my stupid fucking Rat-Man shirt and what if I told her things I've never been able to say out loud very quietly and what if she then made to hold me but stopped dead in her tracks cause I'd just told her stuff about my body and then waited for me to say you can touch me and what if she held my head and told me she loved me and that she's not used to saying it out loud and what if I

[sylusismybby]

Sylus doesn't realize how big he is until the first time you two have sex. You hiss, your hand gripping onto his bicep tightly as he pushes his cock into you. "Everything alright, sweetie?" His voice held a certain amount of gentleness, he stops moving as he waits for you answer. "Yes...you're just...big..." Sylus lets a small smile come to his lips. "I'll just have to be careful then. Wouldn't want to overwhelm you thus early on, kitten." His hips move forward again, this time he takes his time, making sure you feel all of him. Your gasps and moans are like music to his ears, he can listen to them all day. "Tell me if it's too much and I'll stop." It was too much but you didn't want him to pull out, it felt painfully good.

Once he was fully inside of you, he let's you adjust to his size, moving only a little bit. Your pussy squeezed him a few times making him groan. "You feel amazing. Can I move now?" He leans down feeling the way your legs wrap around his body, he holds onto your thighs as he kisses up to your jaw. "Yes." It's a weak yes, you felt so full, he felt so good. Sylus nods and then starts moving his hips setting a slow pace at first. As soon as he sees that your experience grows to one of full pleasure, he speeds up, his hips moving quicker, harder. The moans that leave your mouth get louder, your hands move from his arms to his back, nails digging into his pale skin. He chuckles, he isnt fucking you fast, he is fucking you well. "There we go. Thats my good kitten." He kisses you on the lips, it's a kiss of raw passion, you feel him everywhere in your body. The room is filled with skin slapping noises as his cock moves in and out of your pussy.

Pulling away from the kiss, he grabs your hands pinning your wrists above your head. "Look at yourself. You're taking me so well." His red eyes are filled with adoration and lust, this is exactly how he wanted you. You look up at the mirror that was above the bed, it's an imagine that you wish you can take a picture of. Sylus is on top of you, his body moving against yours, his back painted by the scratches of your nails, your sweaty bodies illuminated by the dim lights. It didn't him long to realize where you were looking, he bites into your neck before speaking. "Enjoying the view are we? Atta girl." Then he starts to thrust into you faster, his cock pouding you deeper than before. A loud moan of his name echoes through the room, you grab onto the sheets, eyes rolling back. He was hitting all the right spots.

When your velvety walls start to clench around his length, he knows that you're close, so he slows down, wanting to savor every bit of you. Sylus takes one of your breats in his mouth, his tongue eagerly swirling against your nipple. The combined pleasure is making you lose your mind, your back arches. "Syl! Faster please!" You're begging him now, something you swore you'll never do. "Is that so? Well, what my kitten wants, she gets." He takes hold of your legs and puts them on his shoulder.kissing your ankle before his movements speed up. Sylus admires the way your breasts bounce at his every hard thrust, he admires how your body reacts so perfectly to his. "Syl! I'm close!" The desperation in your voice makes his cock twitch, you feel it too. His hand moves down your leg until it reaches your core, he gently rubs his thumb over your clit to get you to cum. It works, tou cum around his cock, your body twisting in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. He follows, pulling out quickly and painting your stomach white, his eyes are closed for a moment before he looks at you again. Sylus gives you a few moments before he turns the position around si you were on top of him. "We aren't done yet. Afterall..." He looks up, looking at your reflections in the mirror. "...it's time for me to admire the view too, sweetie."

[peachylynnie]

you make him lose his cool

word count: 900-1k per lead synopsis: in which you provoke them, and they love it. (inspired by kiss of life's igloo) contains: fem!reader x lads men (separate, non!mc), established relationship, downbad men, NSFW CONTENT MDNI (i'm talking grinding, oral sex implications, etc), song lyrics, and cursing. a/n: UPDATED WITH CALEB AS OF 2/1/25 i feel hot whenever i listen to this song. i hope you do too while reading. enjoy! do not plagiarize or translate. lads men do NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs & comments appreciated. lads masterlist | tagged: @vvintqz (ik this is technically the reader teasing xavier but u said to tag u when i write xavier so i hope u enjoy)

caleb

What you heard? (What you heard?) But it's never what you think, trust

it's impossible to surprise caleb.

he always knows what you're up to.

whether you're just waking up from a heavenly two-hour nap or going out to get your hands on the latest edition of your favorite blind box series, he's always there.

last time you tried to cook yourself a meal (ever since you started dating, he hasn't let you lift a finger), he came home early and snatched the spatula away from you, insisting that you sit down and look pretty for him while he makes his signature braised wings.

you're not sure how he does it. maybe he has a secret camera or a tracker installed (ha). though, you don't have any complaints. you think it's fucking hot how he's never away from you.

even so, you've been wanting to surprise him for a while now. blame it on your desire to fluster him as much as he flusters you. you're going to surprise him AT LEAST once in your lifetime.

which explains why you're in an apron right now, with absolutely nothing underneath.

to be honest, you were hoping to surprise him with homemade apple pie since he's always cooking for you. but again, you want to fluster him. thus the apron, a long piece of denim fabric wrapped tightly around your waist and hung dangerously low at your chest. you can't deny how delectable you appeared when you looked in the mirror, admiring your exposed arms, legs, back, and neck—anything that would drive the esteemed colonel insane. you felt jittery just thinking about the look he would have on his face when he walked in through the door of your shared home.

however, your joy is short-lived when your phone rings while you slice up some apples in the kitchen.

"what's with the apron, pipsqueak?"

you put the knife down with a sigh. "do you have a camera installed in here or what?"

caleb chuckles into the phone. "wouldn't you like to know?"

"i would like to know so i can turn the damn thing off and actually surprise you for once, dipshit," you retort playfully as you adjust your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking up the knife to continue chopping. you suppose you should still make the pie since you already got the ingredients out.

"aw," he mocks, his voice dripping with arousal. "did my little pipsqueak dress up just for me?"

"yes," you snap, rolling your eyes. "but this little pipsqueak is about to change since you ruined her surprise."

your threat does little to faze caleb, as evidenced by his endearing laughter.

"don't be upset, pips," he teases into the phone. before you can scoff at his audacity to tell you not to be upset, your ears catch the hurried footsteps in the background of the call. it doesn't take long for you to hope your boyfriend is on his way home—on his way to you. sure enough, his next words cause heat to pool between your bare legs.

"keep the apron on. i'll be home soon."

after he hangs up, you put your phone down with a giggle, eager for what's to unfold once he arrives. however, you still can't help but wonder if he actually has a camera installed because how the fuck does he always know what you're up to? you frown as you turn your head left and right. you don't see any red flashing lights in places that could provide him an optimal view. nope. nothing in the corners of the ceilings and nothing in the walls either. before you can convince yourself your boyfriend is somehow omniscient, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

his dog tag. seems like he forgot to put it on after putting on his uniform. you pocket it, hoping to give it to him when he gets home.

but your mind is truly one of a kind. as caleb likes to put it, resourceful during the most critical moments.

because when he's balls deep inside of you, coaxing your second orgasm out of you, you get the bright idea to fish your shaky fingers into the pocket of your bunched-up apron and put. it. on.

caleb's eyes widen upon seeing his dog tag on you. there it was, the important item he forgot this morning, resting between the delicious valley of your breasts, bouncing up and down while jingling an enticing melody.

"fuck—pipsqueak, you—" he thrusts harshly, pistoning into your sopping heat. you throw your head back at the sensation, allowing him an even better view of his chain, mingling with the beads of sweat on your collarbone. shit, he's so turned on right now. not only were your swollen, sweet lips adorning his name, but so was your pretty little neck. it filled the young colonel with pride. and enough vigor to bring you to your third release, as evidenced by the endless slamming of his hips and the clenching of your thighs.

"good girl," he helps you through your high before letting go of your waist, hoping to give you a break. "i'll go get a towel. stay here."

but when your pilot of a lover goes to leave, you wrap your legs around him and pull him to you, causing him to collide with you. caleb hisses at the contact, sensitive more than ever.

"don't push it, pipsqueak," he warns as he plants both of his arms on the kitchen counter, caging you in. "you need to rest."

"i don't think so, colonel," you prop yourself on your elbows, meeting his eyes boldly. "i don't think so at all."

caleb swears he feels his mechanical arm short-circuit because what you do next is just fucking tantalizing.

you pinch his dog tag and bring it to your mouth.

his breathing quickens substantially when your teeth take the shiny piece of metal as their prisoner. it's not long before his dog tag is trapped between your seductive canines and your thighs are tightened around his waist.

with a shameless smile, you jut your chin towards the man, signaling to him to make his move.

caleb growls, seizing the chain with both hands and bringing you to his face.

"i warned you, pips."

extra (in honor of his official installment)

as you munch on some apple pie in caleb's embrace on the couch, you can't help but ask.

"how did you know about the apron but not the dog tag?"

your boyfriend sniffs before answering, a little bit of pie still in his mouth.

"i couldn't check the cameras on the way home."

"oh that makes sense."

"…"

"wait, what?!"

sylus

Glass room, perfume, Kodak on that lilac (alright) Slipping on my short dress, know he like that (like that)

there's nothing like getting ready in sylus' bathroom. not because of the sheer size of it (it takes at least a day to explore his residence), but because of how good you look in the mirror right now. you can't help but smile as you step back to get a full look at yourself.

sylus went all out for tonight's auction.

he gifted you a tight-fitting ebony dress, its gorgeous silk straps accentuating your shoulders perfectly. he also gifted you a pair of evening gloves, its velvet fabric wrapping around your arms flawlessly. of course, the dress came with priceless jewels and heels. as you twirl in front of the mirror, the scarlet gems on your ears glimmer, and the cherry kitten heels on your feet click. oh, you look so good, you can kill.

but what seals the deal is the neck accessory he got you.

an intricate, black choker made out of lace. fucking lace. a scoff leaves your mouth when you notice the ruby medallion hanging at the center. his taste is as clear as day.

as you reach behind your neck to clip the choker, the man of the hour walks in. you meet his eyes through the mirror, your hands still at the back of your neck. "sylus."

"miss," he acknowledges in return, an unmistakable smirk appearing on his lips. his eyes trail down your figure. "you look stunning."

"thanks," you giggle as you hook the choker clasp. "you don't look bad yourself."

and you're absolutely right. although he has his usual dress shirt on, his outerwear is completely new. a gorgeous red blazer, adorned with inky brush strokes, sits proudly on his shoulders. moreover, his accessories are new (he's never worn any before). cuffed around his right hand is a sleek platinum watch, spotlighting his forearm deliciously. hanging from his left ear are silver chains, shining unashamedly. you can't help but bite your lips as you admire your lover in the mirror.

yeah, sylus went all out tonight.

catching the hazy look in your glittered eyes, he tilts his head before grinning, "like what you see, sweetie?"

you roll your eyes playfully before returning to the sink. "yes, actually. didn't know you were capable of wearing something other than black."

sylus chuckles as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "i've worn colors other than black before."

"if you're talking about the two outfits that have the belt around the sleeve," you list nonchalantly as you pick up your lip gloss. "they don't count. they have black on them."

"i'm talking about the red cardigan, sweetie," he counters smoothly, eyeing the lip gloss in your hand.

"ah." you run the wand over your parted lips, enjoying the feeling of gloss on them. "touche," you say, bending over the sink to see if you missed a spot. you do, however, miss the way sylus' fingers tighten around his arms when your dress hikes up. smacking your lips together, you lift the wand to reapply. "but you barely even wear that. so that doesn't count either."

sylus hums, barely paying attention to what you just said. his eyes are transfixed on the wand. he's mesmerized by how it travels across your lips, slathering them with sticky, shimmery syrup, leaving him thirsty for a taste. not to mention the sounds leaving your lips whenever you press them together. sweet, squelching sounds that have him pressing against you in mere seconds, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.

at first, you were taken aback by his sudden proximity. but after feeling something prod at your back, you smile amusingly before placing the wand down. "i'm assuming," you swiftly turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, his eyes widening as you pull him closer. "there's been a change of plans." you slowly lick your lips, collecting some excess gloss. as it drips from the tip of your tongue, you ask with a tilt of your head, "how late are we going to be?"

that's it.

sylus crashes into you, his tongue desperately trying to lap up the excess gloss. his hands haphazardly roam all over your body before lifting you onto the sink, pinning you down as his lips smear your lip gloss everywhere. you moan, trying to match his fervor. the sinful mixing of breaths, saliva, and gloss floods your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around him and bring him closer to you. he welcomes the action, gasping and grinding into you.

by the time he pulls away for air, both of you are left panting like dogs, mouths and chins smothered in sheen.

your eyes never leave sylus' as you wipe your chin, a string of gloss and saliva hanging prettily from your gloved palm. with a groan, he dives into your neck and sinks his teeth into your collarbone. you throw your head back at the pain, whimpering when he soothes the spot with his tongue.

but when sylus traces a finger up your back, you freeze immediately.

why?

oh, because he's unzipping your dress.

"sorry, sweetie," he chuckles into your perfumed skin, savoring your surprised reaction when he drags the zipper all the way down. "we won't be late."

you look at him in confusion, barely processing the silk straps falling off your shoulders.

he leans in and whispers into your ear.

"we won't be going at all."

xavier

Heart attack, IV when I walk the street Vitamins that D, I'm good, I'm healthy

your starlight of a boyfriend collapses onto the bed, his legs hanging off the edge and his pants dangling pathetically from his ankles.

you giggle at the sight, wiping your lips clean of his release. as you rub a drop between your index finger and thumb, you notice the texture's a bit thick, almost like jelly.

"xavier," you call lovingly, rising from your knees and crawling on top of him. he barely responds; his eyes are screwed shut with beads of sweat trailing down his face, neck, chest, legs, everywhere. shit, what did you do to him? he can't get his chest to stop heaving, his mouth to stop watering, and his ears to stop ringing. he can't do anything. not with the way you looked so pretty on top of him, especially after making him release so intensely in your mouth.

"xavier," you repeat as you cradle his face, making his dazed eyes meet yours. "when was the last time you drank water?"

"water?" he pants. "i'm not sure. why do you ask?"

"well," you show him your fingers. he gulps, flushing a deeper shade of red. "this tells me you haven't been drinking enough water."

you get up to retrieve some water from the kitchen. xavier whines at the loss of contact. although he tries to stop you from leaving, you easily slip out of his weak embrace (he literally got his life sucked out of him; cut him some slack). after you reassure him with a kiss on his forehead, you open the door. "i'll be back soon."

he responds with a whimper before closing his eyes. before he knows it, he falls asleep.

not even five minutes have passed when you return to the room, a glass of water in your hand and a packet of vitamins in the other.

"xavier?" after placing the items down on the nightstand, you sit on the bed to admire the view. there he is, sleeping soundly with his shirt unbuttoned and pants unbuckled, his chest slowly rising up and down and his cute nose scrunching every so often. you almost feel bad when you wake him up. almost. as much as you like watching your boyfriend sleep, he needs his water and vitamins, considering how much energy he uses to fight wanderers.

"wake up, xavier," you coo. "you need your vitamins."

he stirs, peeking one eye open to look at you. cute, you think. "i'm too tired, angel." he whines before closing his eye again. "i'll have some later."

"come on," you chuckle. "at least drink some water. you're dehydrated."

hoping to keep him awake, you litter his face with kisses, repeatedly pecking his adorable features. his droopy eyelids, his button nose, his fluffy cheeks, his moist forehead, his small chin—not a single spot is missed.

his little laughs repay your efforts. before you can continue your bombardment of kisses, his arms wrap around your shoulders, successfully pinning you down to him. you're surprised by how quickly he replenished his strength.

"you're trapped," he points out cheekily. "now we can both sleep."

"xavier," it's your turn to whine. "you need to drink some water. besides," you try to get up but fail miserably due to his tight embrace. "you need to scoot up, and i need to lay down properly if we both want to sleep." still no signs of letting you go.

you sigh before poking at your boyfriend's waist, causing him to yelp.

he immediately lets go of you, rubbing the spot you just touched. taking the chance to escape, you stand up and reach for the glass and vitamins.

"meanie," he pouts. "i thought we agreed to not tickle each other for today."

"that's because you try to tickle me all the time," you retort playfully, opening the packet of vitamins. "besides, i only tickle you as a last resort. unlike you, i'm nice." you pop the vitamin in your mouth and bring the glass to your lips.

"as if." he yanks up his pants and crosses his arms. "last time i checked, being nice means letting your boyfriend sleep peacefully," he quips as he turns away from you, hoping his grumpy little act will coax more kisses from you.

instead, a hand comes into his view and grasps the sheets. furrowing his brows, he shifts back to ask what's wrong but is startled to find your face hovering above his. 

"angel, what—"

you press your lips into his, your free hand gripping his chin. on instinct, xavier opens his mouth, expecting your tongue to greet his. however, his eyes widen when he feels something pour in. oh. he greedily swallows the water and vitamin, his fingers weaving into your hair.

you pull away abruptly, a drop of water trickling down the corner of your lips. before he can say anything, you grab the glass of water and drink from it again, your hooded eyes never leaving his. xavier groans at the sight, his chest heaving for the third time today. and it's barely afternoon. oh, you're going to be the death of him.

he's sure of it when you return to his lips, water flowing into his mouth so sensually as his tongue reaches out for more. this time, you rest your entire body on top of him, allowing him to grab at your hips and thrust upward, desperately rubbing against your clothed core and seeking any type of friction that could relieve him of this growing desire you satiated with your mouth less than ten minutes ago. he never wants to drink water alone ever again.

“a-angel,” he moans when you pull away again. “why?” 

“you need more water, xavier.” you tease with a lick of your lips. “gotta make sure my boyfriend is hydrated, ya know?”

with that, you go to stand up and reach for the glass. however, the room spins as xavier pins you down, your positions switched and your wrists restrained above your head. your eyes widen, realizing you might've pushed your boyfriend too far. 

"angel," dark, cerulean eyes burn into you before glancing at the glass. “that's not enough water.”

rafayel

Yeah, white tippy-toe summer, I make him go dumb, duh He doubled down on that text, says that I'm the only one

(heads up, reader doesn't have to be mc but they know about rafayel's identity as the sea god and he calls you his beloved bride)

rafayel isn't sure how he got here.

you, on top of his bare chest, nibbling at his neck and dragging a finger down his clenched abdomen.

"c-cutie," he stammers. "someone might see."

he's not wrong. you're at the beach after all. but it's a private beach, one the artist rented for a date. so really, what's the harm in pinning your boyfriend down in the sand and showing him how much you appreciate him?

"you're the one who said this place was private, raf." you giggle before sinking your teeth into him, eliciting a moan. "besides, we both know why you suggested a date at the beach. don't tell me you forgot." you trail your finger along the waistband of his swim trunks. he jolts, his half-lidded eyes meeting your misty ones.

of course, he didn't forget. but considering the current, scandalous situation he's in right now, his memory is a bit hazy. as you twirl the drawstring with your index finger, rafayel bites his lip and tries to remember how exactly he got here.

last thing he remembers is you excitedly texting him about your package coming in.

a package, pft. no big deal, right?

wrong.

he almost dropped his phone when you sent him a picture of the package, more specifically, you wearing its contents.

a gorgeous two-piece swimsuit in the color of his hair. fuck, lavender has never looked so good on you. the way the tight, skimpy fabric hugged all the right places, making you seem so so malleable. the way you posed in front of the mirror, your face bridling with innocent excitement but your body positioned so so temptingly. shit, he hopes this exhibition ends soon because his slacks feel suffocating all of a sudden.

it wasn't long before he spammed you with a hurricane of texts consisting of flattering emojis and praises about how you're the only one he'll ever love (dramatic but heartwarming) and how he would love to take you on a date at the beach as soon as this stupid exhibition is over so you can swim in your new set to your heart's content (totally not because he wants to see the real thing).

yeah, now he remembers. he got himself into this situation. you even tried to stop him.

"uh," he recalls you hesitating through the call. "aren't you tired from your exhibit?"

"nope," he immediately answers, causing you to raise a brow. "not at all, cutie. i'm in tip-top shape. what better place for us to test your swimsuit than the beach?"

"us?" you repeat amusingly. "since when was testing a swimsuit a two-person thing?"

shit, he got caught.

"raf," you giggle at his silence. "if you want to see me wear this in person, you can always just ask, you know?"

"w-what?! no!" he acts as if you insulted his artwork. "i just thought it'd be a good opportunity for us to go on a date and to test the quality of your swimsuit! what if one day you go into the water and it gets untied or something? what if i'm not there to protect you from prying eyes? you can never be careful enough with swimsuits, especially shipped ones!"

"uh-huh," you drawl skeptically. "i'm sure a triple-knotted bikini will SOMEHOW get untied by the waves."

"come on, cutie," rafayel whines. "i know a perfect, private place! i'll even bring the food, the blankets, everything! please?" (he purposely emphasized "private" because no way in the seven seas is he going to let anyone look at you in a bikini)

you sigh before observing yourself in the mirror once more. the bikini DID look good, and you DID buy it for future swimming dates with rafayel. might as well, right? besides, you can't say no to him, especially when he begs so cutely like that.

"fine, raf," he remembers you giving in with an endearing sigh. "send me the address of the beach once you're done. i'll stop by your place to pack your swimming trunks."

and here you are, resting on top of him and drawing figure eights with your fingertips IN his swimming trunks.

he would laugh at the irony if it weren't for your provocative actions. you were the one who brought him his swimming trunks, and now, you were the one making him wish you didn't bring them so he could see how pretty your fingers looked right next to his—

yeah, he definitely got himself into this situation. he has no one to blame but himself for his predicament. it's his fault he's currently twitching and throbbing underneath you as you breathe into his neck and tease doodles into his thighs.

"oh fuck, cutie—" rafayel jerks his head back when you suck on his adam's apple. your mouth felt so good. you felt so good. 

after pulling back with a 'pop,' you trace the red mark with your free hand, admiring your artwork on your artist of a lover. unfortunately for him (fortunately, really), this causes him to squirm uncontrollably. the simultaneous stimulation from your right hand on his thigh and your left hand on his neck was just too much for the lemurian. he swears he's this close to bursting all over the sand like a messy, wet bubble. 

suddenly, you stop, withdrawing both of your hands from his body. 

"c-cutie?" he lifts his neck to look at you but finds himself confused as to why you're sitting up. though, his confusion is quelled when you reach behind your neck. 

oh. 

your hands come into view, each one tugging on the strings of your top.

oh fuck. 

he doesn't even see your top fall. no. he's completely frozen (and hard) when you lay back down on him, smushing your now-exposed chest into his abdomen, allowing him a view that brings roses to his cheeks. (he can feel your nipples rubbing against him).

"oh, god of the tides," you purr with a smirk as you press your ear into his chest, relishing in his rapid heartbeats. "you promised you would test this swimsuit with me." before he can deny your reminder of his mistake from the earlier call, you grab his hand and bring it to rest against your swimsuit bottoms, causing his breath to hitch. "won't you make good on your promise?" 

rafayel swallows shakily before nodding. 

"anything for my beloved bride." 

zayne

Mm, yeah, I make him lose his cool Yeah, I make him go mmmmmm ah! ah!

doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, reduced to this.

a red-faced mess, losing his cool in a rocking chair, thanks to his lover shaving his chin on his lap.

his lover, who just so happens to be wearing a nightgown, a silk, sapphire nightgown with lace ruffles and ribbons that drove the man insane.

to make matters worse (better), your bare thighs were on either side of his hips, caressing and stroking him whenever you would move to shave his chin.

don't even get him started on the fact that you're sitting right on top of his crotch. he prays to any merciful soul out there that you don't feel him growing down there-

he inhales sharply when you reach behind him for a towel, your chest mere millimeters from his face.

"you okay, zayne?" you ask with faux concern.

"yes," he clenches his jaw. it's taking him everything to not dive in and lick, suck, bite—anything to relieve him of this torment. "please hurry."

"hurry?" you pout with a tilt of your head. "but why?" you lift his chin to wipe some excess shaving cream. "do you not want me to shave you?"

"no, darling. it's just—" his hands fly to your waist for stability when you place the towel back in its place. shit, every time you lift yourself onto your knees to reach behind him, the chair moves more and more, resulting in a pattern where when he leans back, you press into him, and when you lean back, he presses into you. it's not helping that this pattern deliciously resembles a certain rhythm in bed.

"it's just?" you repeat to him, stroking his jaw to inspect for stray hairs.

he doesn't say anything. how can he? he can't just spill about how badly he wants to kiss your sweet lips, squeeze at your delectable chest, rip your enticing nightgown apart, and take everything you have to offer. no, he can't. not when you approached him so innocently with a cute smile on your face after he came home, asking if you could shave him. (he almost fell to his knees when he saw what you were wearing). not when you look so beautiful gazing at him from above, handling his skin with addictive yet gentle touches, and glowing underneath the moonlight from the open windows. shaking his head, he grips your waist with renewed resolve.

"it's nothing," he closes his eyes. "please continue." he would rather drink alcohol than misinterpret your innocent intentions.

except there was nothing innocent about your intentions at all. you admit, it's fun to tease zayne like this. the way his lips would chase after your fingers whenever you traced them, the way his eyes would falter whenever you leaned in, the way his breath would hitch whenever you moved your hips, oh it all made you feel wanted. and who could want more than a gorgeous, capable doctor who looks at you as if he's going to die if he can't have you?

you. you want more. you WANT him to have you, take you, right here on this rocking chair. you thought teasing him with a few shifts of your hips and some purposeful closings of distances between his face and yours would relay the message. but no. he's either completely oblivious or has the will of a steel that's been fortified ten times over. because even though he's made it incredibly clear that he wants what you want (his blushing cheeks and shortage of breaths are hard to miss), all he's done is sit there and take your teasing.

you frown, retracting your hand. what's it going to take for doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, to give in?

a lightbulb flashes in your head.

"hang on, i missed a spot," you lie, lifting yourself up once more to reach for the shaving cream next to you. "i'll make this quick."

and with that, you slam your hips down.

he groans out loud, eyebrows furrowing and fingers tightening around your hips. he still hasn't opened his eyes though.

"are you sure you're okay, zayne?" you ask innocently, twisting left and right. "i'm worried about you."

"w-why," he starts hoarsely, his fingers gripping for dear life, trying to stop you from moving so damn much. "why would you be worried?"

"oh, i don't know," you smear shaving cream all over his jaw before trailing your fingers down to his neck. "you just seem so…" you slowly trace a heart on his collarbone, eliciting a pretty gasp from him. "out of it."

zayne's eyes jerk open, glaring at you with unprecedented focus. you smile cheekily before pressing yourself deeper into him, eager to bear witness to what he'll do and say since he finally opened his eyes.

though, your smile doesn't last long. in an instant, his hands pin yours behind your back, causing your back to arch and your lips to part.

"i'm starting to think," he secures your wrists in his right hand and brings his left to his face, wiping away the mess you made. "you're doing this on purpose."

you grin. finally. he finally got the message. unable to hide your excitement, you lean in next to his ear and whisper, "what are you going to do about it, doc-tor?"

he inhales sharply, yanking your wrists.

"perhaps," he growls. "it's time you get a taste of your own medicine. prescribed by yours truly."