#and the guy in front of me had AMAZING perfume

[slutforwings]

i LOVE perfume. i especially love it when people have their signature Scent its so good to Smell and think of a specific person

[goldsbitch]

Four times I bumped into you and the one time I fell

There is no such thing as right time, wrong place. Once the timing is right, the world will spin on its axis to bring two souls together.

fluff, no warnings

Running late to the airport was an absolute no go for you - well, that was until you met Lando, with whom you somehow lost all the travel anxiety. But this was good twelve years before you'd officially meet. While neither of you were aware, it was him who quite literally crashed into you, as he was rushing to catch a flight he was characteristically late for.

This was your first long trip alone, so to say you were anxious would be an understatement. Airports were designed to be understood quite easily, but there you were, unsure where you were suppose to go after the security check. With head turned up to all those signs, you tried to make out where in hell did this place wanted you to go to. Just like a thunder, unexpected and attention-grabbing, Lando bumped into you from behind, full force. He wasn't expecting someone to be just standing there in the middle of the busy pathway.

"Shit," he cussed, already being late to his gate. He quickly checked whether you were ok, mad at you for standing there like a post and a bit angry with himself, for being unable to follow a normal timetable. Your left shoulder received quite a big blow, so after your squirted with pain, you looked at your left arm, before you sought the culprit. When your eyes met, you forgot about all of the pain. In front of you stood an absolutely gorgeous boy. He must have been around your age, boyish looks lacing his face. That sort of cheeky innocence late teenagers have. He was taken back, just like you were, and immediately forgot why he was angry in the first place. Both of you were shy as could be in that moment. The only thing he managed to get out of himself was a little sorry. You smiled and then looked down at your feet. Not knowing what to do, he just uttered another quick apology and set on to continue with his journey to the gate.

"Wait, sorry," you managed to get out of yourself, just as he was about to disappear into the distance. He stopped and turned.

"Yes?" he answered, sheepishly.

You swallowed and tried to speak without getting your tongue twisted. "Can you please show me which way I'm suppose to go?"

You had a true desperate look on you, one that a boy raised like him could never resist. A shot of guilt went though him once he saw you holding your shoulder, probably still bit in pain.

"Sure," he said and proceeded to look at your flight ticket. As he leaned over you, your heart stopped. His proximity was making you almost shiver. Strong perfume, or possibly deodorant given his age, hit your nose. But it wasn't like when other boys were wearing it in school. You wanted to soak yourself in it and drown. He told you some words, explaining where you're suppose to go, but you didn't get any of that. Full on panic from being attracted to him overtook your brain. You nodded, as if you'd understood, and looked him in the eyes again. Both of you held on longer than what would be considered appropriate.

"I gotta go," he muttered and made his exit once again. Didn't turn back, because just like you, he was panicking just a bit.

Once he left your eyesight, you looked at the board again, confused, perhaps more than you were before asking him for directions.

//

"Still nothing?" your friend asked, having no choice but becoming fully invested in your newest crush, guy you shared one lecture last semester. You checked your phone once again, but both of you knew what your answer would be.

"Nothing," you replied after not seeing his name on the list of people who watched your story on Instagram.

Funny, how you can go on an amazing backpacking trip with your bestie, live life to the fullest - and none of it matters if he doesn't give a fuck. In fact, it was infuriating. You were sitting nearby a lovely canal somewhere in Amsterdam, meeting new people every day, having the time of your life. All while checking your phone every five minutes.

Your bestie could tell you were more than annoyed. She herself found it pretty exhausting, because sometimes, it felt like this guy was on the trip with both of you.

"I gotta get him out of my head," you said finally after few minutes of silence.

"Yup. You do realize he is a loser, do you?" your friend said and you laughed because at that time, you just did not see where she was coming from. Years later, you'd be laughing about it.

"I do, yeah. I mean, fuck it, I'm in Amsterdam. This is so cool!" you said, trying to pump yourself up to some enthusiasm.

"That's more like it," your friend replied, more than ready to start talking about anything else than that guy. "Let's just, you know, look around and get inspired. We might find someone for you tonight!"

You laughed. "What, like on the street?"

She just shrugged her shoulders. "You never know..."

You observed the people walking on the other side of the canal. "What about that one?" you pointed to a guy smoking on a bridge, hoping he didn't see you.

"Could work...but there is better material around."

Few moments passed. "Uh, what about that one?" your friend pointed to nice looking guy, who was casually jogging around.

You tried to zoom in, not really sure what to make of him. "Yeah, maybe..."

And then, Lando decided to check his phone, while running, and immediately found himself on the ground, as he managed to miss a hole in the street.

Both of you people-watchers couldn't help but laugh out loud. He couldn't hear you and nobody else apart from didn't seem to notice his fall.

"Ok, maybe not that one," your friend jokes, not knowing she just marked off your future husband.

//

The immigration office. Dreaded place where no one is ever happy. It's also the one place where you can't send someone to just "do it for you". Lando would pay anything to be able to get out of this.

He was sat there for a good half an hour, even though he had a pre-booked appointment. He couldn't recall last time he was this bored. His recent success run had many perks, the best of them being the fact he could often jump lines and get many shortcuts. Not the immigration office. These people just don't care.

It stopped being important the moment you walked though the door and sat across from him, failing to pay any attention to your surroundings. The moment you were sat, you started frantically going through your papers, most likely worried you forgot half of the information these people wanted from you.

"First time?" Lando was not usually chatty with strangers unless they addressed him first, which had been happening a lot lately. But there was something about .you Something in the way you shuffled so nervously.

His voice was thick with British accent, which was usually the thing that made you swoon. When you first looked at him, it overcame you a bit. He was undeniably gorgeous. One of those a bit out of reach. God, he could be a model. Knowing this city, he probably was.

"Yes, first time. There was a mistake done at my embassy, so now I have to try to fix it so that I can come home."

He nodded and you wondered why a guy like that would even care to speak to you. "Home, where is that?" he asked, cheeky look burning holes into you.

You chuckled. He knew where to aim to make it count. "Funny question...I'm currently on crossroads. If I say yes to a job offer, it could pretty much be on a different continent." Lando sensed you were avoiding specific answers and found it smart actually, many creepy people everywhere.

"Well, good luck with your decision. I'm sure that what is meant to be will come to you in the right time."

"Thank you...So what do you call home?" you returned the question.

"Huh. Probably my car," he said, surprising himself in the same way you got. "Yeah, that'll be it."

A nervous laugh escaped your lips. "Are you like homeless or something?" Wave of awkwardness rushed through you, but left as soon as he chuckled at your question.

"No, not really. Just on the road a lot," he said and leaned back in a relaxed way.

"Interesting. Never thought that people on road have to deal with visa."

"More than you'd think."

His number was called in from the office shortly after that. You glanced at him a gave him a small smile. He debated for a moment whether or not he should ask for your number. In the end, he didn't. The interaction was too brief. He was on the move constantly and found everything a little too overwhelming. Hadn't learned yet how to deal with it all. Took him two weeks to stop beating himself over chickening out. But then again, it would be another eight years before he learned your name.

//

Flashing lights, body on body, light smoke that helped to cover the tracks and the latest electronic track to cut through it all. You were in Ibiza, on a bachelorette party for one of your friends. Truth be told, you were not keen on tagging along. You weren't exactly besties with the bride to be, more a friend of a friend. But your big break up was almost seven months ago and the fact you were counting only proved you were not doing well. In fact, it was absolute torture. A trip to Ibiza seemed like a decent distraction from the emptiness that haunted you back home.

You'd separated from the group, perhaps the shots were little stronger than what you were used to. In the middle of the packed dance floor, you found peace. People swaying back and forth, heavy air making sure you all stayed intoxicated. The world was spinning when a pair of hands found you. You could only wonder whether he was as drunk as you were or more. But at that moment, you didn't. Your body reacted to his arms holding you and it was nice to actually feel another person so closely. Perhaps that's what you came for to this island, to find the inner passion for other people again. You weren't searching for love. And of course, you hadn't found it. Because, just when you finally turned around to lock your lips with the handsome, toned guy, Lando had just walked past you, trying to push through the crowd. While he searched for his friends, you searched for the anything that random guy might have had left unspoken on the tip of his tongue.

The headache that followed was more bearable than the heartbreak that pained you before. It's probably for the best you hadn't found Lando that night. You were not ready, not for another three years.

//

It's been quite some time since you loved someone with the kind of intensity that makes dancing in the rain sound like the best idea ever. The kind of love that people write albums about. There was still a glimmer of hope, but with every failed situationship, the hope was harder to search for. Maybe it was just not meant to be - and truth be told, life was actually pretty good. You had great friends, fun job and late twenties were looking great on you. You lost yourself in your thoughts for longer than was probably socially acceptable when one is at a wedding so prestigious as this one was. How you got there was also such a random coincidence, but suddenly you found yourself around a celebrity wedding, where there could have been around five hundred people.

It was a lot to handle in one evening and if you were completely honest, you did feel a little out of place. To regain some peace of mind and avoid a panic attack, you snuck out into the depths of the garden adjacent to the venue.

You walked for minutes, peace and solitude uninterrupted. That was until he spoke to you "for the first time". Neither of you remembering your previous encounters.

"Look, I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but hear me out," said the voice of a person, who at that time had no idea they would go on a disturb your peace for the rest of your life. You turned around, bit surprised someone also made it this far away from the rest of the attendees.

Lando took a quick breath and spoke again. "This is a really good light you have on right now, can I take a quick photo of you?" he said and waved around with his analogue camera. You examined the guy standing in front of you. One would have a hard time looking for someone more handsome than him. He stood there, giving off rather impatient vibe.

"Photo of me?" you asked, not believing you heard him correctly.

"Yes, please. The light is perfect and it'll soon be gone."

He was right about one thing, the sunset was making the sky and the whole garden shimmer with tones of pink one rarely sees in real life. You locked eyes with this strange person and saw a demanding look, begging you to allow him to capture the moment.

"Okey," you said in a low, unconfident tone. He smiled and it was like he just had a shot of espresso, energy flew right through him. His arms shot up and he started looking for the perfect frame.

"Wait, I don't know what to do..." you protested, not being used to getting photographed. For Lando, the occurance of a camera was so common, he didn't even think about it. He found your hesistance refreshing. He quickly snapped a picture, hoping it would capture your unease. Then he looked up from his camera to you again.

"You're perfect like that, don't worry," he assured you and looked for another angle. He was quickly becoming obsessed with the way how the light made your hair shine and a shadow highlighted the contour of your face. There was something he saw in you that night, something he would spend years trying to get into a picture and never getting it fully, at least in his opinion.

Lando found his perfect angle, but by that time your face became stiff, showing you really were not used to modeling. Once again, he looked up from his camera to courage you.

He smiled at you and the two of you locked eyes for longer than strangers usually do. "I'd love to see your smile," he said, hoping he'd loosen you up.

You were beyond nervous. Whatever you were was far apart from normal heart rate.

"Well then you're gonna have to tell me a joke," you said, not knowing where it came from.

"Don't worry, we can talk about my love life after the sunset," he said jokingly and to surprise of anyone who might have overheard, you laughed.

From that moment on, history wrote itself pretty quickly.

[sailoryooons]

Angel | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x Sex worker! F. reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences. 

☾ Word Count: 15,551

☾ Genre: Semi-established relationship, mafia, smut, surprising amount of fluff

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sex work and mentions of sex work, Yoongi and the reader are very confident in their relationship but also don’t want to ask for more, uses of the word whore negatively in some parts, vague references to dismemberment in an offhand conversation, intense action sequences, depictions of violence, reader is smacked around and kidnapped, depictions of injuries and pain, two sequences of detailed anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of blood, violent scene in which reader fights for her life and gores someone, depictions of murder/panicking while committing murder? Idk how to describe that one, mentions of nightmares/light reference to PTSD post-murder, explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. and f. receiving) light throat fucking, nipple play, ass play (f. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, Yoongi… almost doing a strip tease but it’s not as goofy as that it’s more sensual?? Yoongi is a little bit possessive at the end. 

☾ Published: September 3, 2023

☾ A/N: You voted for it, you got it! Introducing the fic that came out on top for the Hali’s Happy Agust Bracket Challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted during the entire month of August, I had such an amazing time seeing everyone yelling and voting and sharing and having fun with it. It means the world to me that you guys have fun and enjoy doing these kinds of things! Here is mafia Yoongi in all of his glory - I did try to keep it tame with the murder/violence/criminal side of it because there are things in this genre I’d like to table in later (most likely on Hali’s After Dark) but I hope that you enjoy this! Somehow it really turned into two people who are just !!! eternally confident in one another, despite their strange trades. Shout out to the hurricane and covid for FAILING TO STOP ME FROM WRITING THIS I’M A GOD (not really I am very tired but I did it osifjdoigj). This is mostly edited.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Angel Playlist

Yoongi would rather be anywhere else but the low lit, smoky club. The production team on the dancefloor below uses way too much cryogenic smoke for Yoongi’s taste, fogging the dancing bodies with thick clouds, the lasers reflecting off the smoke in dizzying patterns. From the VIP section, he isn’t choked by the haze, but he is choking on the cloying perfume of the woman in his lap.

She’s pretty enough, one of Kwan’s finest. No doubt trained from a very young age to please her employer’s most prestigious guests. Yoongi doesn’t touch her though, save for letting her sit on his lap, her hand cradling the back of his neck. She leans into his chest, her breath close to his ear as he watches Kwan consider Yoongi’s deal.

Yoongi doesn’t have to make the deal at all. Offering to become a minority owner of the club is a mercy, really. Yoongi could go after the investors who fronted the money when Kwan opened his business in the middle of the entertainment district, and he could wipe out the petty criminals pushing drugs in shadowy alcoves near the bathroom, damaging the cut that Kwan takes from them at the end of each night. 

Yoongi could even go as far as to sow chaos every night, sending in his followers to pick fights with the elite clientele, make it a nightmare for the celebrity clients and cities government officials who use the back rooms for more nefarious matters, exposing the underbelly of La Vie if he felt like it. 

Investments, Hoseok always insists. Investments, not enemies. They already hate that you’re taking a chunk of what they built - especially the seaside property.  Let’s try to play nice and show face. 

Forcing hands is exactly how Yoongi got to this position, sitting in a club and offering Kwan a rather generous deal: Kwan retains eighty percent of ownership, Yoongi becomes a twenty percent owner, the only person allowed to supply the club’s drugs, is paid for security services, and has access to the information funneled through those that work the private client rooms. He could just take it like he always has, and he still has half a mind to do. 

Men like Kwan who think they’re savvy in business and the nuances of the criminal enterprises that run the city make Yoongi’s lip curl. 

“These terms are bullshit, and I don’t have control of the back rooms.” Kwan looks up from the contract, glasses sliding down his nose. He’s a little bit older than Yoongi, and good looking. He has a traditionally handsome face that idols and actors like to get moderated to look like. He looks like new money though, with designer pieces that don’t quite match and a Patek watch that is flashy, but not coveted. “While it is under my jurisdiction, it is a handshake deal with Anya that she runs them the way she wants. They are her clients, not mine.” 

“Then Anya will have a handshake deal with me.” Kwan’s face darkens. Yoongi is tired of this. Is tired of the feeling of the girl’s hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck, is tired of the way she presses up against him, and is tired of Kwan’s dawdling.

“Take the weekend to think about it,” Yoongi insists and stands. The girl falls off him, letting out a surprised sound as she hits the booth. Yoongi adjusts his suit and frowns when he sees there is body glitter on it. He casts a harsh look at the girl who stares up at him with big eyes before turning back to Kwan. “There are no terms for negotiating. Thank you for the drinks and the entertainment. You’ll hear from me.”

Kwan’s face is red like the neon of Yoongi’s favorite motel when he walks out of the booth. Synth and base rattle the metal catwalk that makes up the VIP section, overlooking the dancefloor. Seokjin slides into step with Yoongi as he goes, an imposing shadow as they circumnavigate the walkway. 

It’s loud and raucous when they get to the dance floor. Members of the security team watch Yoongi as he goes, their eyes alert. He pays them little attention, just like the gazes of the people dancing in the ground when they catch sight of him.

Sometimes, Yoongi feels a little bit like a myth in moments like this. Out in public, Yoongi is an astutely dressed man who speaks quietly and says very few words. He wears nice but not gaudy jewelry, and he always styles his long hair slicked back, showing off the faded, red scar over his eye. What Yoongi lacks in height, he makes up for in omnipresent stares and quick reactions.

Everyone in the city knows exactly who Min Yoongi is, and they know that he doesn’t make threats. He simply acts. 

Outside, rain falls from the inky sky. Hoseok leans against the brick wall under the awning, clove-tinged smoke drifting from the cigarette jammed between his lips. When he sees Yoongi, Hoseok pushes off the wall and adjusts his suit jacket. Where Seokjin looks tall, dark and imposing, Hoseok is wiry and sharp, dressed in all white, looking pristine as he raises his eyebrows at Yoongi in question. Yoongi nods towards the idling SUV as an answer. 

They don’t bother with an umbrella. Yoongi ducks his head down as he quickly walks across the pavement and into the car. The interior is moderately cool in the SUV. He takes a seat in the middle, Seokjin sitting alone in the row behind him and Hoseok to his right. 

Outside of the rainy window, the world turns into a smear of wet neon. Checking his watch, Yoongi notes that it’s just past midnight. If he hurries, he can stop by the Red before he goes home for the evening. If he goes home for the evening, at that point. The thought of sinking into sheets that smell like almond and cinnamon ease him. 

“So?” Hoseok flicks through his phone, face lit up blue by the screen. He looks hauntingly beautiful, all edges and sharp lines. “Deal or no deal?”

“Giving him the weekend to think about it.” Hoseok sighs. “He thinks it’s a bad deal for him because it it is, and he’s stuck on the operation Anya runs in the back rooms. He doesn’t want to lose that connection to her. She feeds him information for his extortion of city officials.”

“How else would he have cleared that permit near the docks to build,” Seokjin mutters. Yoongi casts a glance into the back seat where Seokjin sullenly stares out of the window. “Fucker is sticking his nose in a district he has no rights to. At least we had the means to get that operation cancelled.” 

“Yeah, and it’s part of why he doesn’t want to deal with us,” Hoseok says. “Even so, offering the deal is the right move. If he doesn’t take it, crush him like a fucking bug. He’s an intelligent businessman, it’s no surprise that he’s going to try and find a way around you. He might sniff around or try and fuck up some assets.”

“Hobi, you better fucking hope he doesn’t go to that fucker Seo.”

“He doesn’t have the balls. Seo Changbin is unhinged and volatile. He’s more likely to send Kwan to his family in chainsawed pieces.” 

Yoongi grunts, amused. “Bang has kept him under control as of late. Seokjin, have Jungkook look into getting some people in there. I’m not interested in them linking up as permanent partners.” 

A headache presses against Yoongi’s temples. He doesn’t care to debate politics and machinations with Hoseok and Seokjin. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headrest, letting their discussion fall to a dull sound. 

Yoongi feels like he’s bleeding at the edges, the color of him spilling out of neat lines and all over the pages. His empire is growing faster than he can keep up with, he’s playing politics more than he’s playing the savvy gangster, and the more capital he gains, the more of himself he loses.

When Yoongi had started to climb the ladder of crime and chaos, he didn’t know where it would lead him. An early grave, perhaps. But Yoongi has always been smart and knows how to pick his battles, knows how to innovate. He is not the most inspiring man to lead people in the underbelly of the city, but he does know what he’s talking about and he’s good at guessing what people want most.

People, he’s discovered, all want the same thing, whether they’re at the bottom rung or the top. 

The boy he once was wouldn’t recognize him. The new Yoongi wears designer suits, the carefully curated art collections in the opulent halls of his home, the shaking hands with political figures to help install certain assurances within the city. There are more officials that line Yoongi’s pocket than there are gangs in the city, but it’s a weapon he wields well. 

Old Yoongi might not be so impressed. 

Yoongi feels the phantom ache of the scar on his eye. It doesn’t matter what old Yoongi wants, though. This new version of him is doing whatever he needs to live another day and to install another brick in his kingdom. 

The driver drops Yoongi off at home. Tall gates with security cameras and guard house at the entrance keeps almost everyone away from the Min estate. There’s been a few idiots here or there who have climbed the walls and met the three lovely dobermans that roam the property freely. 

Erebus catches Yoongi’s eyes as he walks to the large garage. The eldest of Yoongi’s canines sits and watches Yoongi approach with keen, dark eyes. He grins at the dog, whistling lowly. Erebus stands and joins Yoongi on his way to the side door, jamming in a code to the garage.

Inside, the automatic lights flip on. Yoongi squints from the harsh lighting, closing the door behind him. Rows of vehicles gleam under the fluorescents. Sports cars, old collectibles, sturdy SUVs. Yoongi has an armada at his disposal, though he so rarely drives himself anywhere these days. Not after Seo put a hit on him a few months ago, the insane fuck. 

Yoongi pulls the tie loose from his neck and begins to change. He presses his finger on a thumb-print lock to a wardrobe and pops it open. Inside are casual clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, a riding jacket, boots and a gleaming black helmet. Nondescript clothes that can belong to anyone. 

Every movement feels heavy. He should go upstairs and swallow down something to help him knockout, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes going through the motions and tosses the worn clothes in the wardrobe and walks over to the parked H2R in, all sleek, black metal. 

Erebus sniffs Yoongi’s knee once, a sort of send off. Yoongi bends down and kisses the doberman on the head before shooing him, sending the dog through the garage and up the stairs that lead to the main house. 

Instead of starting the bike in the garage and peeling out the front of the home, Yoongi pops the kickstand up and walks it out of the side door, careful not to bang the tailpipe on the door or scrape the shiny black paint. Once outside, he walks it through the entire yard, arms aching a little as he keeps the bike balanced. 

Gravel crunches beneath his boots and the tires of the motorcycle. Crickets chirp in the yard until he makes it to the back gate in his home that opens up to a government only street. Being back-to-back with the minister has its perks, like an extra security measure that he doesn’t have to monitor constantly. 

Swinging his leg over the bike, Yoongi slides the helmet on, turns the key, and presses the on switch. It roars to life, vibrating underneath him. He revs it a few times before he pulls back on the throttle and shoots down the street like a bullet from a gun.

Iron gates, walls and security houses blur past him. He lives among the gods of the city, high up over the glittering lights and those who pay pilgrimage to the political, criminal and tech giants who loom over them. Yoongi was one of them not that long ago, rising faster than he could have thought possible.

Still, he descends often. Nightly, even. Like even the most powerful gods, Yoongi’s weakness is a vice he can’t - doesn’t want to - rid himself from. While he doesn’t think of himself as impervious, Yoongi doesn’t have many weaknesses. 

His biggest one, though, spends most days at the Red with a private suite in the luxury pleasure house disguised as a motel. 

Yoongi parks his bike in a secured garage that he has a paid spot in. The payment for it is discrete and in all cash, one of Yoongi’s several attempts at covering his tracks when he visits.

The garage is still a few blocks away from the Red. He tucks his hands into his pocket, enjoying the balmy evening, rain still clinging to the air though not falling now. This late at night, there aren’t many people out. Cars drive by, tires hissing on the wet road. Neon lights burn above fluorescent-lit windows of small food shops. 

At the end of a dead end street, a red motel sign buzzes against the night sky. The non-descript brick building doesn’t look like much, but Yoongi knows better than most. Instead of approaching the front door, he leans against the wall a few shops down, tucked underneath the shadow of an awning. 

Pulling his phone out, he dials and brings it up to his ear. As the phone rings, he looks up at the four-story building. There are windows with dark curtains pulled shut and never opened. Yoongi knows that the glass looks ordinary, but is bullet proof grade to protect the most private of clients. 

It doesn’t look like much. The brick is old, it’s bracketed by a laundromat and a hardware store, and across the street is a noodle shop and boarded up general store. 

“It’s late,” you answer, voice scratchy. Yoongi nearly shivers at the sound of your voice, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes in the rain-tinged night. “What’s a girl to do when a boy calls her this late, hmm?”

“Let said boy upstairs and out of the rain.”

“Hmm.” You don’t say yes, but Yoongi can hear the rustle of sheets and the soft creak of the bed when you get up. He waits in silence, though he imagines you’re walking across the bedroom to head to the main part of the state room. “It’s not even raining anymore, I bet.”

“It is. I’m soaked to the bone. Freezing. I might catch a cold.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

He grins, ducking his head. He can feel the warmth climb up his neck to his face, shaking his head. Only you can get him like this, heart skipping like he’s in grade school making out with someone behind the bleachers for the first time. 

“Come on,” you tease on the other line. “Your door will be open.”

“Thanks, Angel.”

“Mhmm.”

His door isn’t really his. But it is a private access door in the back of the alley that requires a keycard and has an armed guard sitting in a security room next to the entry way on the inside. Yoongi hangs up the phone and heads to the special door, avoiding the puddles dripping from fire escapes. 

Just as Yoongi reaches the heavy door, he hears the beep of the auto-lock and it swings open with you leaning on the frame. He wants to eat you whole. You’re not in work clothes, meaning you either wrapped up a while ago or didn’t work tonight. He doesn’t want to know so he doesn’t ask, instead walking up to you as you step to the side and let him in. 

Glowing light flickers underneath the security door to the left. You close the door behind you and pass him, letting your fingers grab his hand and link fingers. There are security cameras here, but it’ll look normal, with you pulling him through the halls and to the elevator. Touching is very much permitted here. Encouraged. Required. 

In the elevator, you stand by Yoongi. He leans into you, silent. You squeeze his hand, very small in his, but warm enough to soothe him. You smell faintly almond and cinnamon, making him go wild as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You giggle, leaning into him fully, arm pressed to arm. 

Perhaps it’s stupid to be so open like this. When Yoongi first started coming here, he was still and awkward, never coming too close, never letting himself be too familiar. Now, the need for you is too strong. He doesn’t care if there’s a camera on him watching him melt into you. He doesn’t care if maybe it shows that this is a little more than money, a little more than just a quick fix.

Yoongi has been coming to you for almost three years. He doesn’t remember when it stopped being about sex, but it hasn’t been that way for a while. At first, he thought it was so silly. Mafia man in love with a woman he pays to have sex with him. Except it wasn’t so silly. You’d long stopped considering him a client and insisting he doesn’t pay you. 

He doesn’t dare. He doesn’t know what money you make from clients. He knows that it has to be good to be at the Red, which specializes in top clientele. He knows it has to be great, even, because you always meet on your terms. In this space. 

He also doesn’t dare to ask you to stop. He doesn’t know how many clients you take, or who. He doesn’t know when, he doesn’t know how often. He knows nothing about your work except that he doesn’t ask you to stop and you don’t ask him if he wants you too. 

It’s an unspoken rule between you. Yoongi is too afraid to ask you to come live with him, and perhaps you’re too afraid to ask him to take you. Whatever the reasons, neither one of you is brave enough to cross the line first. So instead, you dance along it, making whatever this is work. 

Inside the stateroom is clean and smells like expensive candles. The room is luxurious and is exclusively yours. A cut of your earnings go to holding the room, just like the rest of the workers in the other rooms. 

With the door firmly locked behind the two of you, Yoongi heads to the open kitchen and leans against the counter, facing you. You kick off your slippers and turn to face him, half shadowed by the darkness of the hall, half lit by the warm salt lamp in the living room. 

Yoongi drags his eyes up and down your frame. Soft curves, gentle lips, kind eyes. He was gone the first time he saw you, and he’s gone now. Even after all this time. 

“What?” you ask, fingers fidgeting with your t-shirt. He thinks it might be one of his, but he might be imagining it.

“Come here,” he instructs, patting his thigh. 

You grin and approach him. He opens his arms for you and he sighs as you press against him. Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing him tight. Slotting your head between his shoulder and neck, you hide your face against him, breath warm against his throat. He envelops you in his arms, wrapped around your shoulders and draped down your back. 

Almond fills his senses. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing you in. You don’t say anything, content to sag against him in the low light of the room. This is what he comes here for more than anything. Everything else you offer is secondary. His foremost desire is this - you. 

“Everything okay?” you finally ask, because of course you do.

“Mhmm. Just a long night.”

“You smell like perfume.”

“Hmm?”

“Like peaches.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you. You crane your head so that you’re peering up at him with one eye, brow arched. His mouth twitches. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.” 

“Interesting.”

“Not particularly.” 

He lowers his arms, letting them drape around your waist. He smacks the round of  your ass a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to make you pout. “We really going to get into the mechanics of this right now?”

Your smile is all he needs to know you’re not serious. At least, not enough to do something about it. “No, but it’s fun to tease you.” 

“Perhaps I should tease you back, then.” 

Hand in hand, you lead him to your room. Yoongi sees the white sheets and grins. White sheets are for him. Grey sheets are for clients, something you’d established in the infancy of whatever this relationship is. He appreciates the little layers of how you make things different for him. You make him feel special - and not the kind that he pays for. 

Falling backward into the bed, you look up at him with those fucking eyes that make him week in the knees. It’s dark in the room but he knows it well, standing at the foot of your bed and reaching down to snatch an ankle and pull you a bit closer. You squeal as he does, making a jolt of joy go through him, grinning. 

“How was your day?” he asks, lifting your foot to rest on his shoulder. He presses an innocent kiss to your ankle and he watches your brows furrow. “What?”

“Are you a foot person?”

“What if I was?”

You shrug a shoulder, watch him trail kisses down your calf. He nips the meat of your leg, an innocent bite but one that makes your leg twitch. “I’d say I’m surprised to learn something new about you after three years.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi lowers himself so that he’s on his knees, the carpet pressing into his slacks. The back of your knee fits perfectly over his shoulder, your leg resting along his back. You lean up on your elbows and look down at him, watching him settle between your legs. “Think you know everything about me, huh?”

Yoongi’s hands feel your warm skin. He marvels at the softness of your thighs, stroking his hands back and forth. Looking at you, he raises his brow in question. You’re too distracted by the feeling of his hands. It stirs something in him, and he cruves his fingers, dragging his blunt nails softly against your skin.

“Feels good,” you mumble, half-lidded. “I do know everything about you, Min Yoongi.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I could eat your heart if I wanted to.”

Yoongi’s stomach flips at how right you are, at how much you know it. Your confidence in his feelings never fails to make him feel like he is cut open and laid bare at your feet, waiting for you to step on him. To make him regret that vulnerability. 

You never do. At every turn, you’ve shown him that you won’t take advantage. That you have no desire to use the fact that one of the most powerful men in the city is in the palm of your hand. Power for the taking. You could wield him like a weapon, he thinks, and yet you don’t. All you want from him is for him to speak freely, to kiss you often, and to hold you tightly. 

So he does. 

Yoongi presses kisses up the softness of your thighs. You drop from your elbows to lay flat on your back again, your breath catching. He watches raptly at the rise and fall of your chest as you gasp a little. He knows exactly what you like, reaching for your sleep shorts to pull them off slowly. 

Tonight, he has nowhere else to go. Neither do you, letting him lean further up between your legs to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against your hips. You squirm a little, sensitive in the hip area. He loves it - would die for it - letting his tongue slip between his teeth to lave over your hot skin to soothe stinging flesh where he’s nipped you. 

His hands are familiar with every dimple in your skin and every curve. He traces them as he pulls your shorts down, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear as he does. He throws them on the floor, hands settling on the inside of your knees as he presses you open, dropping his eyes to your wet folds. 

Yoongi groans. You’re always so eager for him. That’s never been an illusion, the way your cunt drips slowly down to the curve of your ass at the most innocent of touches from him. It fuels Yoongi’s ego, knowing he has this effect on you. Knowing he’s the only one who can get you trembling in anticipation just by kissing the inside of your knees. 

He made the mistake only once asking if you ever get off with your other clients. The flash of anger and irritation had never made him ask again, but you at least gave him an answer: no. 

Thinking back on it now, Yoongi doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t care who you have before or between. All he cares about is being in the darkness of this room, your scent heady, his head shadowed between your legs. 

Leaning forward, Yoongi drags the flat of his tongue up your cunt slowly. You let out a moan and he hums, closing his eyes. He’s been craving your sweet tang all day, the tip of his tongue lingering just under your clit before he drags around it, missing your bundle of nerves on purpose. You let out a sound but he grins, removing his tongue to return to tracing sloppy kisses on your legs instead. 

Already lightheaded, he grounds himself by sliding his hands along the outside of your thighs, gripping you here and there as he lavishes you with attention. He knows he’s tired, but he at least wants this. Wants to taste you before bed, to have you melt in his mouth, fingers in his hair. He needs it. 

Yoongi doesn’t dip into the drugs that his operation injects into the streets. He doesn’t need to. There’s nothing that makes him forget who and where he is the way you do. Nothing that amounts to feeling your soft skin beneath his palms, smelling the barest hint of sweat beneath your vanilla perfume.

When Yoongi gets a taste of you, it’s an instant high. He feels lost, hands skimming up your thighs to hold your hips to the bed. Your hands seek his, linking your fingers and pressing your joined hands to your hips as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh.

This is why he keeps coming back. The intimacy. The reassurance that this is something more than an accident that Yoongi stumbled on a few years ago. That this is more than the roll of bills he will leave on the nightstand tonight, even when you say not to. 

There is nothing else he needs in these stolen moments with you. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur, voice soft. He hums in response. “Please, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Good,” he shoots back, biting your knee. You twitch and curse at him, making him laugh. Your glossy cunt is a sure sign that you’re not lying, though. Clit swollen, hole clenching. “Fuck, you have such a wet pussy.” 

“Then put your fucking mouth on it, Yoongi.” 

He laughs. “As you wish, Angel.” 

A breathy whine in the shape of Yoongi’s name leaves your mouth when he starts to eat you out properly. He takes his time, eyes closed as he indulges, tongue rolling up and down your slick pussy. You turn liquid in his mouth, your hips canting as he flicks his tongue across your clit. You shiver in his hands and he grins, gently sucking your clit into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” you pant. “Fuck, like that.” 

Alternating between fastening his mouth on your pussy to suck gently and sliding his tongue into your hole, Yoongi goes with what he knows makes you a mess. Holds out his tongue and lets you fuck yourself against his face, your hand coming to grip his long hair. 

The wet slide of you against his face makes him ache in his pants. He ignores it, determined to hold you still as he buries his face in deeper, picking up the firmness and pace of his mouth and tongue. He feels your essence drip down his chin and his neck. Hears the squelch when he thrusts his tongues into your pussy. Can’t get enough of the way your thighs close around his head, muffling the sound of you whining and saying his name.

Yoongi’s scalp stings when you pull his hair. He doesn’t care. He whips his head back and forth between your legs, tongue pressed against your throbbing clit. You’re shaking underneath him and he pushes you further, dipping low to slurp at your pussy bottom to top, not letting an ounce of you spill out. 

“Holy fuck,” you squeak, voice high-pitched as you arch off the bed. He looks up at you, mouth attached. “Your fucking mouth.” 

He grins, and leans into you further, pushes your thighs higher. Your legs bend easily under his weight. His hips are pressed against the foot of the bed now, hips rolling slightly, seeking for friction. His eyes close as he gets the barest bit of friction against his cock, more focused on making you come into his mouth than getting himself off.

When you come, your whole body goes taut. Yoongi holds you tight in his hands, mouth moving against you messily as he licks you through your orgasm. You dissolve in his mouth, making him hum against your heat. You twist in the sheets, body twitching, muscles flexing. He avoids your clit, thrusting his tongue into your entrance until you’re gasping for air, hands pressing against his head to get him to stop.

Yoongi removes his mouth with one, lascivious lick. He sits backwards on his feet, panting as he looks at you melt into the bed. Your limbs are lifeless and tangled in the blankets, your hand over your eyes as you catch your breath. You look fucking beautiful. 

“Come here,” you rasp, voice rough. 

The bed creaks under Yoongi’s weight. He walks over on his knees, drinking you in. Your cum slicks your thighs, shining in the barest shaft of light escaping the bathroom from a nightlight. You turn to face him, face balmy with sweat. You reach up and work the zipper on his pants, making his stomach flip.

“You don’t-”

“Shut up,” you growl, tugging the metal down hard. He smirks as you press your fingers into his hard shaft through the cotton of his briefs. “Wanna feel your cock in my throat. Can you fuck my mouth?” 

“Fuck yeah, Angel.” 

Yoongi nearly falls getting out of his pants. You laugh, the sound so sweet that he feels himself blush. He’s hot all over, coming alive in the darkness of your room as he strokes his cock. You look innocent, splayed on the bed and blinking up at him. 

Precum drips from his dark tip and you open your mouth, tongue catching it. He curses under his breath, entranced by the way your tongue disappears between your lips. You hum, a glint in your eye as you smirk at him. 

“Vixen,” he says, shaking his head.

“Give it to me.”

One day he thinks he’s going to die of loving you. He knows that this is what it is. It’s more than you opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for him. It’s more than him letting you suckle on the tip of his cock playfully, his eyes fluttering shut and his thigh muscles twitching. 

Yoongi loves you. It is an incredibly simple fact in his over-complicated world. Among all of the shit and the moves and countermoves he deals with every day, coming here to simply be in love with you is a relief. A home. 

A shiver crawls up his back as he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth is wet and warm, your tongue rough on the sensitive underside of his shaft. He keeps one hand on the base of his cock and the other on your jaw, keeping your mouth open to make the slide easier. 

Everything fades away again. Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath as you open up for him. When he touches the back of your throat, he’s careful at first. He knows you can take it. You’ve taken so much more from him, gone so much harder. He doesn’t want to go hard tonight though. He feels soft at the edges, your taste lingering in his mouth.

The wet sound of your throat convulsing around him making him stroke faster. He knows you’re okay, breathing heavily through your nose as you gurgle around him, spit and precum slicking his shaft as he pulls in and out, marveling at the way you look at him, eyes watering.

Your eyes fix on him. Yoongi clenches his teeth, trying not to burst in your mouth. It’s hard when you look at him like that, gaze so dark and hungry and fathomless. You’ve never said you love him. You don’t have to. He knows. He knows in the same way he is aware you know he loves you. He knows enough to trust you with him. With everything. 

There’s not a single doubt with you. It is a rare gift to share this open trust with someone, especially in his position. It is an added bonus that you know he loves it when you swallow around his cock as he presses into the back of your throat. The tight heat of your throat constricting around him does him in, and Yoongi comes with a growl.

You take it in stride, gulping. Taking it down. His eyes roll back in his head and he thinks that if he didn’t love you already, this alone would make him fall in love. 

Pulling out his softening cock, he falls backward on the bed. He’s still in the top half of his clothes, but he is exhausted, lashes fluttering. Your hands are delicate as you begin to pull the jacket from his body. He rolls to the side and lets you, lost in the daze of a much needed orgasm. He feels at ease now, more than he has all day. 

“Come on,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the spot under his ear. “Take a quick shower while I change the sheets, they’re sweaty. And I came on them.”

“I’d sleep in them anyway.”

“Hmm, too bad. Shower.”

“Meh.”

“Yoongi, you smell like a whore.” That makes him crack an eye and look at you. Your gaze is pointed. “And not like me. I don’t like it.”

“Huh. So you are jealous.”

“Get in the shower.” Your mouth twitches as you try to fight a smile. “Or else.” 

-

Getting up before the sun is your favorite thing. Even now, when you’re tired from being woken up in the middle of the night, you make an effort to crawl out of bed to make coffee. Your steps are heavy and you shiver in the freezing air of the kitchen as you open a drawer and pull out a coffee pod. You hold it up close to make sure you’ve got Yoongi’s favorite brand before sticking it in the machine and popping the lid down, punching the button to brew.

Yoongi is a sleeping mound in your bed. Leaning against the counter, you admire him from afar. He’ll be up soon, your body clock tuned to the hours of his operation. It’s been that way for over a year now, your circadian rhythm trained to be the most functional during the hours in which Yoongi is awake. 

When you were younger, you would have hated to admit that. Would have detested the thought of ever adjusting a single part of yourself for a man. Your entire job was to be moldable. To put on whatever face your client needed, to shape yourself into whatever person that you needed to be. 

You have been so many things. A wife. A mistress. A temptress. A lost loved one. And darker things still, sliding on the skin of client’s fantasies over-and-over again until you lost the substance that made up whoever you were for hours at a time. 

Back then, it would take hours and days to regain who you were. It wasn’t until you were more advanced that you were able to separate who you are from who you pretended to be. Now, it’s not necessarily. There is no other, no mask. Just you and Yoongi, the single client you decided was worth being moldable for.

The smell of coffee wakes him up before his alarm. You watch him sit up in bed, eyes not yet open. His hand spreads to where he expects to find you, only to discover open space. He swivels back and forth then, looking for you. Maybe a little panicked.

A pang aches your heart. It is so easy to forget that even after years of getting up before him first, Yoongi will never be trained out of the instinct that something of his has been taken. The day he doesn’t worry is the day he’ll lose everything and you know it.

“I’m over here,” you call gently. He relaxes and pulls himself together before getting out of bed and trudging out of the room.

Yoongi is pretty in the morning. His face is swollen with sleep, making him look so much younger. Like a dumpling, even. His mouth is fixed in a pout as he rubs at his eyes, steps uneven and dark hair sticking up all over the place. He looks at you, eyes glassy. The faded pink scar over his eye is less intimidating in the morning. You grin and open your arms. His reaction is automatic, sliding between them and sinking into your embrace, head thudding to your shoulder. 

“Hi,” you purr, your hands squeezing around his middle. His shirt is soft in your fingers as you play with the hem. He grunts back, not much of a morning person. You don’t mind. Instead, you let him lay his weight on you, unwilling to move even as the coffee finishes brewing. He smells like sage shampoo and something more unique to him. “You okay, sleepyhead?”

“Mhmm.”

“Can’t talk yet?” he shakes his head against you and you laugh. “Come on, coffee.” 

With Yoongi latched on to you, you walk over to the coffee maker. You giggle, elated as he clings to your front, letting you move him backwards. With his butt pressed against the counter and arms wrapped around you, you lean around him to grab the steaming mug and bring it in front of him.

Pouting, he drops his hands from you and takes it. 

Years of mornings and carefully pulling back layers of Yoongi has earned this rare silliness between you. You’re acutely aware of the fact that the sleepy man in front of you, no matter how soft and blushing he is in the mornings, is a murderer. He’s extorted people, has threatened them, sits at the top of drug trade, and has pushed people into political office with dirty money and blood. Your eyes linger on his scar, a memento of his violent youth. 

You don’t care. It doesn’t matter what Yoongi is and is not. All that matters to you is that he is Yoongi and that he is yours. At least, yours in the way it matters. You don’t dare ask him for more than what you have. It is the one thing you’re afraid of, because even though you know that he loves you, that you know he trusts you, asking for more is something you don’t want to do. Too many people want more of him. You just want whatever you can have. 

As he sips his coffee, careful not to let it spill over and burn you while you bury yourself in snuggling him, you close your eyes. A couple of years ago, you didn’t think a life like this was possible. Getting in at the Red was the first step in the right direction. Though still for sex workers, it was an upper level platform in the industry you clawed your way to. 

Both of you are similar in that regard. Yoongi started from nothing. A poor boy who dropped out of school to work a job and help pay rent at his apartment, too uneducated with not enough resources to make a dent in the world. It was the same story for you, though perhaps a little bloody around the edges, a hand that started selling you before you could make the choice yourself. 

At the thought of your mother, you feel your jaw clench. The bite of the memory is only soothed by the knowledge of Yoongi putting her down himself. Perhaps it makes you a monster, but you’ve accepted that long ago you were what the world crafted you to be, and you wouldn’t apologize.

If you were Yoongi’s shield, he was your sword. You protected him from the weight of his atrocities, and he slayed your monsters. 

It’s what drew Yoongi to you in the first place, the unapologetic approach to life. You appreciate it in him too. He doesn’t try to pretend that he is more or less than what he is, and you never try to hide the ugly parts of yourself. 

And here he is anyway, coffee-warm lips pressed against your forehead. It almost makes you ask for more, but you don’t. This is enough for now. 

The room at the Red isn’t where you live, but it’s yours in everything except lease. You long stopped using it for its intended purposes, now pleased to use it as a neutral ground to meet Yoongi and to stay where you know he is safe. His sprawling estate under guard and gun is surely safe enough, but you like having Yoongi where you can see him. 

After a mostly innocent shower together, Yoongi gets dressed and kisses you goodbye after you walk him down. It’s still dark outside when you swipe your security key. He puts on his biker helmet and gives you a little salute before jogging down the alleyway, splashing into the morning and vanishing around a corner. 

You linger for a moment, watching the empty space where he vanished. It would be nicer to be somewhere you didn’t have to escort him out. Somewhere you could be together all the time. You don’t think Yoongi would say no if you invited him over to your apartment, but you don’t have the security and the heavy protection that the Red offers. 

Collecting your things, you scribble a note for the cleaner before heading out. You’ll only return to the room if Yoongi intends on swinging by again. Though it is more than a suitable place to spend all your time, you like your small apartment tucked downtown above a coffee shop. It has a hominess that feels more like you. That is a little less sterile. 

Sun cracks over the city, spilling light like yolk over the buildings. You shield your eyes as you make your way down the sidewalk, shafts of light falling between buildings. The subway is full of people heading to work. Everyone shuffles without speaking, some buttoning collars of uniforms while others close their eyes in seats, headphones snug over their head. 

The lull of the train as it starts makes you drowsy, but you fight to stay awake. Now that you don’t spend hours sleeping in and recovering from servicing clients late into the night, you value your mornings. Want to be the kind of person whose business hours are during the day, to feel the sun on your skin. 

At your stop, you disappear in the flow of people going up the steps. The concrete above is still wet from the rain the night before, your steps tapping wetly as you go. It’s still summer, but the wind in the shade is cool as you enter the parking garage of your building, heading toward the elevator. 

It’s mostly empty, people having left for work already. There’s a single black SUV by the elevator that you don’t recognize, the windows too dark to see inside. As you approach the car, you realize that it’s on, idling quietly. 

Years of living in the wrong part of town have you slowing your steps. Your eyes flicker to the plate to see a metal shield over it, hiding the numbers on the vehicle. The back of your neck tingles. You come to a full stop, staring at the running vehicle. No one makes a move to get out and there’s no indication that someone is inside.

While you don’t live in the luxurious part of town, your neighborhood is relatively safe. It’s not without instances, but you live deep into Yoongi’s territory, his foothold on this block strong. You’ve never had to worry about walking down the road by yourself at night or making it to your apartment when drunk.

Now, you’re worried. Instinct needles you sharply. There is no reason to think the SUV means you any harm, but something is screaming at you to walk away. 

Then the elevator opens and a normal looking man and woman exit. They don’t pay you any mind as they get into the vehicle, shutting the back door. Your nerves ease and you laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be doing something nefarious this early in the morning. 

Shaking yourself out of it, you walk the rest of the way to the elevator. As you reach your hand to press the button to call the elevator car, you hear the sound of the car doors opening. You whip your head to look over your shoulder as men get out of the passenger seat and the back seat.

Instinct kicks in. You turn and run, screaming shrilly for anyone that can hear you. They take off after you, steps thundering against the pavement as the SUV squeals its tires to back out of the spot and peel after you. There’s nowhere to go but out into the street. You head for the sidewalk only to be snatched from behind and lifted off your feet.

You react immediately. You throw your elbow back, connecting to one of the men’s faces. He screams and you hear bones crunch. He drops you but your knees buckle, a mix of fear and lack of coordination making you fall to the ground. The other man is on top of you, pressing you into the ground as you scream savagely, kicking your limbs to wiggle out of his grip. 

He grabs your hair and pulls. You yell out, eyes smarting from the sting in your scalp as he then shoves your face into the ground. It hurts. Pain blooms in the side of your face. You’re aware of tiny pieces of gravel digging into soft skin, cutting up your face. The sting is small in comparison to the throb that pulses through your cheekbone as he grinds your face into the pavement. 

Screams echo in the garage as you’re yanked backwards. There are several hands on you, grip like iron. You snarl and yank your limbs to no avail. Just as you’re pulled into the interior of the car, a piece of cloth is slapped hard against your face. You gasp in surprise, a pungent smell filling your nose before you feel a swift fog take over, your mind fading until there is nothing left. 

-

Pain. It’s the first thing you feel when you come to. It’s a slow sort of drift toward awareness, like sluggishly swimming to the surface of a deep lake. You manage to drag yourself there, but immediately want to sink back into the nothingness again once you feel how much you hurt. 

Your face perhaps hurts the most. Not only does your skin burn, but it feels like you’ve been rocked with a cinderblock on the left side of your face. You dully recall having your head pressed into the concrete with near bone-breaking force. It explains why when you open your eyes, the left feels a little swollen. 

The room you’re in is empty. Your shoulder muscles are on fire, hands tied behind your back in the chair you’re sitting in. It’s hard to pinpoint what hurts worse, body littered with bruises and injuries. Still, you’re alive and that has to count for something. 

A man leans against the wall across from you. He watches you curiously. When you become aware of him, you straighten a little in the seat. Your ass tingles with the numbness of sitting there for who knows how long, and your biceps strain with the movement, making you hiss. 

“I’d like to untie you,” the man offers. “But I need a guarantee that you’ll behave.”

You want out of the ropes, so you nod your head. He nods once and pushes off the wall, walking over to you. You use the nearness of his proximity to gather as many details as you can: Patek watch, a basic model. He smells like mandarin and something spicy like pepper - maybe an Arabian fragrance. The suit he’s in is well-tailored and when he pulls a knife out of his pocket to cut the ropes around your wrist, you see a mother-of-pearl handle. 

Money. This man has money. 

Relief makes you sigh, melting into the chair when the pressure in your shoulder blades releases. You immediately lift your hands and place them into your lap, rubbing your trembling fingers across your palms, pressing firmly to encourage blood flow. Your handles tingle as the circulation begins to return to normal, though you can’t make a fist or move all of your appendages immediately. 

The man backs away and leans against the wall once more. He’s incredibly handsome, the kind of guy who might be an actor or in the movie industry, perhaps. You continue to assess him, placing him a few years older than yourself. His hands are linked in front of him. No marriage ring, no tan to indicate there was once a band there either. 

The expensive cologne matched with the watch leads you to believe someone else picked them out, which leaves you with two options: a lover or a sales associate. Judging the make of the watch, you know it doesn’t look like a limited edition series, so not a very personal gift, if a gift at all. And while the cologne smells expensive, it’s too spicy for a day scent, indicating that he doesn’t have someone to tell him the difference between night and daytime colognes.

If you have to guess, they’re things he’s purchased himself on the advice of a sales associate or because of the amount of numbers on the price tag. It’s a habit that comes with new money.

“I apologize for the roughness,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt you.”

“Intent matters little. Results matter a lot.”

“Well said.”

Feeling starts to come back to your hands as you flex them. You’re in some sort of construction building. It looks like maybe an apartment building in the making, with plastic tarps covering the windows and metal scaffolding exposing unfinished concrete. Outside, you think you faintly hear the sound of docks and workers.

“Do you know where we are?”

You look him up and down. “We’re in a building. You’re against a wall, and I’m in a chair.”

He scoffs. “Smart mouth.”

“You asked a question.”

“So I did. We’re in a building that was supposed to be my next venture. Someone, however, got in the way and created a bunch of red tape with the city. Now my funding has been slashed and this building has been sitting unfinished for a year, draining me of my property taxes.”

“Well,” you deadpan. “I’m a whore, not a lender. I can’t get you a loan.”

He grins, but you can’t tell if he’s amused. “You’re not just any whore though, are you? I have on good authority you service high profile clients. One of your clients is the reason this building is stuck in paperwork, and now he wants to take even more from me. I can’t let that happen.” 

Yoongi. He’s talking about Yoongi and you know it. You try not to squirm in your seat, meeting his dark eyes head on. Your mind is trying to make decisions and keep up as much as possible, funneling through the list of names Yoongi has mentioned, anything at all that can give you a leg up.

“High profile clients are where the money is,” you admit. You think perhaps this man is Kwan Daehyun, whom Yoongi has been playing chess with for the better part of a year. “I don’t like to sell information on my clients, but I suppose you know that since you kidnapped me.”

“Consider the sales price on this particular client’s information to be your life. I just need a little bit of information, and you’re free.”

You shrug. “You’ve got me there. What do you want to know?”

“Min Yoongi.” You continue to stare at him, giving away nothing. Your heart is racing in your chest and you try to keep your hands from shaking. When you continue not to answer, he clicks his tongue, annoyed. “What can you tell me about his weaknesses?”

You can’t help it, you laugh. Kwan frowns as you giggle. It hurts to laugh, face bursting with pain as you catch your breath and shake your head. “What a cheesy fucking questions. What, you think I just have a list of things that can hurt Min Yoongi?”

“I know how pillow talk goes. He must talk about his stress. Brag about his assets. What else do men go to whores for?”

“To get their cock sucked, usually.”

Kwan pushes off the wall and storms toward you. You sneer up at him, a little less afraid of him now. He appears small and gutless to you, kidnapping a sex worker to ask for pillow talk secrets to gain a fucking advantage. It means he has nothing on Yoongi and has resorted to pisspoor tactics to get anything usable against Yoongi.

Though how he managed to get to you is unsettling. You’re unsure how he made the connection, or how long he has been watching Yoongi. You find that to be the most irritating, to know that Yoongi has been under surveillance for any period of time. Not that you’ve been smacked around and put in an abandoned building on threat of murder. 

“I will fucking kill you.” 

There is truth in his words. Questioning you is a desperate attempt, but perhaps not his only. It occurs to you that he doesn’t thin you hold any value beyond questioning you, and though he’s said he’ll spare you life, you don’t think that’s true. He only sees you as a vacuum for information, and if you don’t have it or you give it to him, he’ll kill you.

You need to be valuable. And fast. 

“Kill me and you ruin any chance of that deal with him.” Kwan hesitates, eyes darkening as the words spill out of your mouth, “In fact, that was probably already off the table as soon as you had me physically harmed and dragged into a car here. So now, you should stop asking me about what Yoongi’s weaknesses are and start asking, what will Min Yoongi do if you call him and tell him who you kidnapped and tied to a fucking chair.” 

Kwan narrows his eyes. You see him assessing the weight of your words. You fight the urge to leap at him and reach for the folding knife in his pocket. Just because you can’t see a gun doesn’t mean there’s not one, and just because you can’t see or hear anyone else in the building doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Outside you can hear the cry of a seagull. When you breathe in, you smell ocean water and salt. Definitely keeping you in a building by the docks. You think you know the one. Kwan takes a few steps back from you and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“You think he gives a shit if I have you?”

“You asked for Yoongi’s weakness. You’re looking at it.” 

“I think you’re bullshiting me. I think you’re a whore he won’t deal for.”

“One way to find out, right?”

Instead of answering, Kwan turns on his heel and walks towards the opaque tarp. He walks through it and two men replace him at the entrance. Both of them are armed, staring down at you. Ignoring them, you roll your neck in slow circles, trying to ease the soreness.

Tentatively, you reach a hand up to your face, pressing your fingers into your cheek. You hiss, the pain still raw and present underneath your fingers. You can feel small scabs from where the gravel broke skin, but thankfully it doesn’t feel like your eyes are too swollen. 

Time passes. You remain in the chair, fidgeting now that you’re awake. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth and your lips begin to burn from wetting them constantly, only to be dried out by the salty air. You feel itchy and irritable, trying not to squirm too much in the chair lest you disturb the guards.

Most of all, without having to put on a brave performance, you feel afraid. Afraid of being here by yourself in this warehouse, afraid that you’ve made a mistake trying to make yourself valuable, afraid that Kwan isn’t going to give you a chance to talk to Yoongi as proof of life. 

You’re not versed in this part of Yoongi’s life. So much of his business has been held separate from you. The violence and the extortion and the sketchy deals have always been something he did outside of that room at the Red. You’re not afraid of this life, though. Just unprepared and trying to guess what to do next, fueled by poorly written crime movies and stories that Yoongi has told you in the warmth of your bed.

It feels like hours have gone by when Kwan comes back into the room. You sit up straight when you see the phone in his hand and see the fire in his eyes. He looks like a man who has had something go right - which means you have him right where you want him, if he’s doing what you think he is. 

Kwan holds out the phone to you. “You have five minutes to talk to him as an act of good faith on my proposal.”

You see Yoongi’s name on the caller idea and try not to start crying. Swallowing thickly, you lick your lips again and bring the phone up to your ear. The tremble in your hand and your voice isn’t a performance when you say, “Hello?”

“Where are you? He hasn’t told me.”

“Yeah, I’m alive.” You sniff a little. “Agh, don’t make me cry. My face will get saltier than it already is.”

“I need more than that, Angel. He’s trying to make deals with me, but I need to know where you are to come get you. He won’t tell me where you’re at unless I wire over money and legally sign over assets.”

“No, he hasn’t hurt me. He’s been polite, though I’ve been kind of a beach- bitch. I’ve been a bitch. Sorry, I’m very tired.”

“Is it the building in the warehouse district at the docks? That apartment shell?”

“Yes, I can do that. Just… please agree to whatever he says, I feel tired and loaded. Bloated. Sorry, I’m confusing words again.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got fucking guns too. We’re going to come get you okay?”

This time when you sniff, you feel actual tears. Of relief that he understands your weird turns of phrase, of the terror at knowing he’s going to have to come get you. To risk his life for you. You knew he would, and yet you almost hate to ask him. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’ll be okay, Angel, but I need you to listen.” 

“Okay.” 

His voice is firm as he says, “I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. Don’t think twice about it. It is you or them, do you understand me? There is almost a certainty you are going to have to kill someone when we come get you. Start thinking about it now. Try to get used to it so that when the time comes, you’re not afraid anymore.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“See you soon.”

-

Yoongi likes to think that he is an expert in control. His compartmentalization is unmatched, and though he is incredibly proud, his pride is not easily wounded. Foolish slights and insults don’t rile him the way they might have in his youth, and physical threats of harm are amusing, especially when no very few people carry through on their threat. 

When Yoongi hangs up the phone, he loses every ounce of control he’s ever felt. Never has his urge to destroy been so sharp. He sees red, slamming his hands across his desk and swiping everything off. He tastes metal in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, screaming as he hammers his fists on top of the desk hard enough that he thinks he might split the wood. 

Hoseok and Seokjin hear the commotion, crashing into the office with Namjoon and Jungkook behind them, weapons drawn. Yoongi is shaking when he looks up at them, the phone screen cracked in his hand. He cannot stop shaking, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like a dose of heroin. 

All of their voices sound like a mess of sounds. The ringing in his ears overpowers everything they’re saying as he stands there, hands at his side, mind racing and chest heaving as he pants. Why is he panting? Yoongi feels like he’s suddenly not getting enough air, dropping his phone to loosen the tie around his neck, trying to give himself more room to breathe. Why do his clothes feel so fucking tight?

Suddenly it’s like there isn’t enough air in the room. Yoongi feels the tunnel vision come up on him fast. Chills spread through his body as he wavers, hands held out as he tries to catch his breath. He feels hands on him trying to steady him, but he yanks away from them. They feel too close, too much in his space and he needs more room. Room to get this blazer off and breathe. Breathe, why can’t he breathe? 

Yoongi stumbles into a wall. His vision pulses on the edges and he can vaguely make out Hoseok’s voice. He looks up at him and sees his friend, his advisor. Hoseok isn’t touching him, but his head is cocked as he tries to keep and maintain eye contact with Yoongi. 

“Inhale for seven seconds,” Hoseok says. “Then exhale for seven. I’ll count.”

“What?” Yoongi demands.

“You’re having an anxiety attack.” Hoseok states it as if it’s the most common thing in the world. “You have to regulate your breathing or you’re going to pass out. If you pass out, we can’t help.” 

It’s the only thing that gets him to listen. He counts with Hoseok, drawing in long breaths.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

Yoongi has to shake this. Has to get ready and call his people, needs to make plans to come get you. He knows exactly where you are - wants to fucking kiss you for how clever you mange to be even while terrified. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

He knows you’re afraid. Yoongi has never heard your voice tremble like that since he’s known you. He knows every tone of your voice, every color to the spectrum of your sounds, able to pick them apart to know how you feel. And while you spoke in a clear tone, it was all wrong. Colored with terror. Voice soft and rough and wavering. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

The ringing in his ears fade. Yoongi continues to take slow, deep breaths. His hands are still shaking and he feels a little light headed, but when he blinks a few times and looks around, he sees his closest men and confidants standing around him, waiting. 

“Talk to us,” Hoseok urges. “What’s going on?”

“Kwan has my girl. They’re in that apartment project we froze in the docks.”

“He told you where they were?”

“No, she did.”

Hoseok looks weary. “That sounds like a trap - did he already offer you a deal?”

“He said several things. He didn’t tell me where they were, she did.”

“In front of-”

“Hoseok, stop asking stupid questions or I swear to fucking god I’ll hit you first. She’s not used to any of this, but she isn’t fucking stupid. She used the words salt, beach and loaded. They’re in that building and they’re armed.”

“Poetic,” Seokjin grunts. Yoongi cuts his gaze to his head of security and the man pales. “Sorry, bad timing.”

“Get every fucking person we know on the fucking ground and here. We’re going to get her.”

“They’ll see us coming from a mile away.”

Yoongi stares at Seokjin. “I don’t give a fuck. Kwan wanted to find a weakness, well he found one. And now I’m going to paint that shitty little development with his blood.”

An hour later is when it hits Yoongi. He stops in the middle of tying a shoe and he stands. He’s replaying the conversation with you over and over in his head, looking for any other details he could have missed. He was so fucking proud of you for getting your point across even while scared, but now it’s something else he thinks of.

I love you. He had almost not realized you said it at all at the end of the call. He can’t remember if he said it back, but he’s suddenly sick over the what if of it all. What if he doesn’t get to say it back? What if he gets there and swarms in, only to find you dead? 

In a moment of panic, he texts Hoseok to request proof of life on the hour every hour from Kwan under the guise of considering his horrendous deal. Kwan, of course, thinks he’s got Yoongi. He doesn’t, naturally. They haven’t agreed on a time or place to meet, and Kwan does not seem to understand just how poorly he’s miscalculated. 

None of it matters. All that matters is that Yoongi is going to come get you like he promised, and he is never letting you out of his sight again. 

-

Surprisingly, your living conditions change a little upon Kwan learning that you’re more valuable kept alive and in decent condition than beat up or dead. He has a cot and a fan brought in, along with an ice back for your cheek and a thermos of water.

You crush the thermos almost immediately. Though you’re kept under armed guards now, you’re relieved to be able to lay down and stretch your sore limbs. When the ice pack finally grows hot and melts on your aching cheekbone, one of the guards gets you a new one without question.

It almost makes you feel bad for what is to come. Almost. 

You know Yoongi. It’s why you gambled with a hostage play in the first place. He won’t let them have you and it doesn’t matter what Kwan offers him, Yoongi is far too powerful to accept deals from the likes of Kwan. It isn’t so much a matter of pride as it is a matter of power. You know Yoongi has the power to pull you out of this without further harm. 

At least, you have put every ounce of trust and confidence in him that you have. 

Time moves slowly. It’s hard to know how fast Yoongi will mobilize or what his plan is. It would make sense for him to perhaps cause a distraction elsewhere to get Kwan’s eyes off of you, but it’s also a dangerous game to play with a hostage. 

It doesn’t matter. Yoongi has his job and you have yours, which is to work the screw out of one of the cots joints. You’ve picked one that isn’t imperative to the overall structure of the cot. It can bear your weight without the screw as long as you don’t lean on the joint too much. It takes you a while to unscrew it with your bare fingers, all while lying on your back trying to look uninterested in anything.

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

Finally, you pull the cool metal free. You slide it into the pocket of your sweatpants. The weight of it feels better than nothing. It won’t do much damage, but a well placed punch to the face with the screw between your knuckles will do what you need, even if you damage your hand to do it. 

You’ve never killed someone. Thought about it a few times, maybe. Had some people try to sway you to slip something into a client’s drink, but you never accepted. Killing isn’t your business. It’s Yoongi’s, but you know that if he’s telling you to take the chance, it’s because he wants you to live. 

The thought is chilling. You rest your hand on the pocket, feeling the shape of the screw. You don’t know how to kill. You’re not even entirely sure that you have it in you. You’ve seen people die and you’ve seen people murder. It seems easy.

You’re not sure if it’s that simple. 

It’s late into the night when a commotion draws you from your half-slumber. You lift your head as someone comes in and mutters something to the guards. They nod and one of them leaves, the other turning to face you with a glare, hand resting just inside his jacket where you assume there’s a gun.

Outside, you hear the sound of peeling tires as a car takes off. 

Nerves take over. You feel your heartbeat pickup as you continue to lay on the cot, one hand under your pillow. It’s hard to think of what might be happening over the sound of your own pulse, but you try to regulate your breathing. There’s nothing happening right that second that you can control, so there’s no reason to panic.

A few minutes go by. It’s agony, waiting with bated breath. It’s quiet outside except for the sounds of the ocean and the mostly empty warehouses and docks. Plastic snaps in the breeze, loud in the silence of your waiting. You think that this is the worst part, the anticipation for what’s to come. You can’t sleep now even if you tried. 

When the first round of gunfire comes, you almost lose control of your bowels. It’s a shameful sort of fear that takes you by surprise, making you freeze up. You have been waiting for it, and yet now that you can hear the sound of automatic weapons somewhere below, it feels worse than you imagined. 

Looking up at the guard at the door, you reel in surprise to see him rushing toward you. Time seems to slow down. The sound of guns and yelling fade to the background everything suddenly becomes hyper focused. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

As the guard leans to pick you up, you strike like a snake, pulling the screw from your pocket and jabbing upward with a savage scream.

His guttural cry splits the night. You feel hot blood spray your hand and dot your face as you plunge the blunt screw into his eye socket. Blood makes your fingers slippery and as he falls onto his back, hands clutching his face, you lose your grip. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

No hesitation. You dive for him, stained hands searching for the weapon. The metal of the gun slides in your slick fingers. Through the blinding pain, the guard realizes what you’re doing and grabs your forearms. You pull back against him but can’t shake his grip, your hand stuck in his jacket on the gun. You finger the trigger and squeeze, but it doesn’t budge. The fucking safety. 

Sliding a knee down, you crush the cap of your knee between his legs, pressing his balls with your full weight. He screams and his grip goes slack. You yank on the gun, almost dropping it as it slides free from the holster. Your grip is clumsy and shaking, your heart pounding so hard you think you might die of fright before you manage to find the safety on the hammer and pull it back. 

I need you to do whatever it is you need to do to protect yourself. 

Click. Squeeze. Bang. 

You don’t aim. Don’t have the sense to at that moment. This close, you don’t have to aim at all. You hit your target and his yelling turns to shrieks. You can’t tell where you’ve shot him, all you know is that you have. You scramble away, hands slipping on the floor, gun clutched clumsily in your hand. 

A hand goes around your ankle and you scream as he drags you backward. You roll onto your back, bringing the gun up again, trying to aim in the general direction of his chest.

Squeeze. Bang. 

It’s so loud. Your ears are ringing and you’re unable to hear anything as the grip on your ankle immediately goes slack. The guard goes limp, the fight leaving him immediately. You don’t look - can’t look. Can’t focus on anything but the way your vision tunnels. 

Dizziness sweeps over you as you crawl away from him again. Your knees and palms might hurt if you could feel anything at all, but numbness starts to take over as you manage to press yourself against a wall near the doorway. You don’t dare move toward it, too untrained to handle a gun while terrified. 

“Angel!” you hear Yoongi’s voice screaming somewhere in the building. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your lips tremble. You try to find your voice, willing the words to come. Mouth open, his name on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find a response. “Angel, come on, baby! Where are you?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper. It’s not nearly loud enough and your voice cracks on the name. You close your eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath as you muster strength behind your voice. “Yoongi!” 

“That’s it, keep talking to me.” 

It sounds like he is yelling somewhere down a stairwell, voice echoing up concrete walls. “Up!” You start to curl into yourself. “Yoongi, up!” 

Steps thunder in the stairwell. You drop the gun next to you and look at your hands. They’re slick and wet. In a panic, you start wiping them on your sweatpants, smearing red as you do. You viciously wipe your hands. You want the blood off, you don’t want it all over you, it’s hot and stick and it’s not yours and it belongs to the dead man who was trying to take you-

Warm hands grab your face and tilt you upward. You blink through blurry tears. Yoongi looks back at you, his forehead sweaty and his slicked back hair a little messy. He turns your face from side to side as more of his men flood into the room, guns raised.

Yoongi’s mouth moves but you can’t hear him. You shake your head, looking up at him. His grip softens and the gentle brush of his thumb back and forth across your face eases the rising panic inside of you. You sniff, taking a few slow, trembling breaths. 

“Are you seriously injured?” Yoongi asks again, voice rough. Cracking. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.”

“The blood-” You shake your head violently, closing your eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. You did what you needed to do, Angel. I’m going to get you on your feet and take you home, okay?” 

“I don’t-”

“My home. Not yours. You’re coming home.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to explain what he means. As he slowly pulls you to your feet, you know what he’s telling you. You’re going to his estate, because it’s yours too now. The agreement is unspoken but mutual. You don’t want to go back to your apartment. You don’t want to go back to the Red. Right now, all you want is to wash the blood from your hands and get away from this place. 

Seokjin is at the door with a blanket. He wraps it around you as Yoongi keeps his hands around your waist, steadying you as you walk. You get down two levels of stairs before he tucks you into him and presses his lips against your temple.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, mouth moving against your skin. “I won’t let you trip.”

You do as you’re told. His steps are confident and careful as he leads you through the bottom floor. You hear the murmur of voices, the flapping of plastic tarp, and the humming engines of vehicles. Yoongi lifts you lightly and helps you get into the cool interior of a car that smells like leather. 

When the door shuts, you flinch and open your eyes, staring straight forward. Yoongi is next to you, arm going around your shoulders as he pulls you into his side again. You realize for the first time as you glance at him that there’s blood on his face and in his hair. His knee bounces up and down, his hand resting against it, still gripping a gun with the safety off. 

“Are we safe?” you whisper, staring at his gun. 

“Yes.”

“Then why-”

“It makes me feel better,” he admits. “I just need to come down.”

“Okay.” 

“Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are dark and though his mouth is pinched at the corners and the vein throbs in his forehead, his eyes are soft for you. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re safe.”

-

A week makes the pain in your cheekbone fade away. A week does not make the memory of squeezing the trigger fade. At night, the memory is worse. What your mind had been unable to remember at first comes back in full-clarity at night, gripping you in your sleep and dragging you down into an endless terror until Yoongi pries you from the clutches of your nightmares and wakes you. 

It’s easier with him by your side, though. You’re at least able to fall asleep, if not stay asleep through the night. When he wakes you from screaming and thrashing in the sheets, you’re able to settle against him, his hold on you firm. Comforting.

Yoongi takes this in stride. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t lose his patience. He simply murmurs that he gets it and holds you, his skin warm and smelling like home. 

Home. 

The estate is a sprawling mass of elegance that stuns you each day. Beyond the opulence of the home and the luxury that it offers, what matters most is the security. The personnel at every entrance, the high gate with cameras and alarms, the three lurking dobermans that still terrify you when you see them standing in a dark hall at night or watching you in the kitchen when you get a glass of water after a nightmare. 

Nox has come around to liking you, at least. She’s become your shadow in the house, which had made you a little unsure at first. Now, she trails you up the stairs and to the master bedroom. You’ve grown used to her - prefer it, even, when Yoongi is not home like right now. 

Erebus and Khonsu are on the floor of the master bedroom. Both watch you as you enter, unbothered but aware. Where their younger sister has adopted you as an owner and a thing to protect, they still seem set on Yoongi only. 

The three dogs remain in the bedroom as you end the bathroom. It makes you feel safe to know that even if someone managed to get through the gates, up the driveway, through the secured doors and the dozen people that Yoongi has stationed at the estate since your kidnapping, the dogs are another line of defense. 

So is the gun under the bathroom cabinet and in the nightstand, but you don’t want to touch a gun ever again. Not if the nightmares it gives are like this. 

Steam fills the room accompanied by the scent of eucalyptus. Carefully, you peel the clothes from your body and toss them into a corner. The stone shower is warm with heated floors and a digital panel both inside and outside for control of the fifteen different water settings. There’s even steam options, but you simply turn on the rain feature, slipping under the dripping ceiling. 

The hot, wet taps of the water lull you into a trance. You stand with your head tilted down, letting the rivulets of water run the full length of your body.

“Angel, I’m home,” Yoongi calls from the bedroom. You smile, appreciating that he announces his presence instead of sneaking up on you. He’s always careful to make noise when he enters rooms now and announces his arrival. “You just get in?”

“Yeah,” you call back. “Join me?”

“Give me five.” 

When he finally enters the bathroom, you turn around to look at him. He’s already pulling the tie around his neck loose, dropping it to the ground. You catch sight of the red across his knuckles. Though he is free of blood - an effort on his part now to bring it home to you - you notice the days where he comes home and his knuckles are split or bruised, hands aching. 

Watching Yoongi undress captures your full attention. His movements are slow and methodical. His back is to you, shirt dripping off his broad shoulders to join the tie on the floor. He looks up in the mirror and pauses, dark eyes catching yours. You raise a brow and gesture for him to continue. When he does, it’s with his tongue poking his cheek and a smirk. 

Knowing that you’re watching, Yoongi turns it into an art. His fingers trace the top of his slacks before he slowly undoes the belt, pulling it with a satisfying hiss through the loops before holding it out to the side and letting it clatter to the floor. Your eyes are zeroed in on his reflection in the mirror as he works the button open, peeling the top of his pants apart to reveal the logo of his briefs. 

Yoongi pauses. Your eyes dart up to his in the mirror to find him watching you, eyes dark. The scar looks menacing today. You squeeze your thighs together, chewing on your bottom lip. He notices, smirk growing as he rolls the slacks down his thighs and kicks them aside. You see the imprint of his half-hard cock in his briefs, your attention on him alone enough to get his blood pumping.

You’ll never get over having that effect on him. Knowing that even after the nightmares and becoming an inconvenience - in your eyes, at least - the chemistry between you isn’t gone. It’s still there, a burning candle. 

Slowly, Yoongi peels off his briefs. His heavy cock bobs as he steps out of them and you feel your pussy clench around nothing, just thinking about him stretching you open. He says nothing about the small bead of precum at the tip as he turns and walks over to the shower.

He’s built beautifully. Broad shoulders with a slim, tapered waist. Strong arms and large hands, firm chest and soft but muscular stomach. Yoongi is the perfect blend of pretty and rugged, a combination that you didn’t know existed until him. 

When he steps into the shower, you step further into the water, making room for him. He shuts the door and frowns at the distance between you, holding out his hand. You take it immediately and he pulls you forward, careful not to let you slip on the tile.

He doesn’t waste a moment. Yoongi’s mouth captures yours, wet from the shower water as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping lightly. You hum, bringing your arms to loop around his neck, fingers combing through his wet hair. His cock presses against your lower stomach, and you shiver. 

Yoongi’s kisses are addicting. Slow, like he has all the time in the world, but hungry, like he can’t get enough. His tongue brushes the roof of your mouth, his teeth pulling at your lip again when he pulls his mouth away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 

Tilting your head back, you let him pepper kisses along your throat. You close your eyes, letting him hold you to him. The room tilts as you sway in his arms, the feeling of him licking the hollow of your throat entrancing. It’s so simple yet it feels so good. 

One arm loops around your waist to keep you pressed to Yoongi, his other slides up your wet skin to cup your breast. You let out a breathy moan when you feel his thumb circle your stiff nipple, the stimulation so bare but so good. 

Yoongi keeps you cradled against him, mouth working your neck and shoulder and back up to your mouth while his thumb lazily plays with your nipple. You're pliant in his arms, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

His mouth starts to descend and when he finally takes your nipple into his mouth, you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. He hums as he sucks gently, tongue flicking back and forth over the peak. You can’t help but twitch in his arms, a ripple of pleasure sliding through you. 

Heat pulses between your legs and you feel the slick gathering in your folds. Your legs squeeze together again as Yoongi drags his teeth over your sensitive nipple before letting go and switching to the other. This time, he looks up at you through dark, wet lashes, sticking out his devilish tongue as he uses the tip to trace your skin.

“Show off,” you mutter, voice shaking. 

He laughs and runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple before giving a sharp suck that has you arching into him. “You love having your tits in my mouth,” he shoots back. He bites the top of your breast softly, teeth scraping your soft skin. “Don’t deny it.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Hmmm.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he teases. The hand around your back slides down to your ass. He grabs a handful, squeezing generously. “Can you turn around for me? Legs spread so I can see that pretty pussy.” 

“Fuck.” 

He drops his arms so you can turn around. You press your palms against the wall, shivering as the cold tile leeches the warmth from you. The temperature difference makes the room tilt. You slide your legs apart and stick your ass out toward him, lifting a little. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

You can’t see him, but you feel him as he slides down to his knees. His palms grip your ass, spreading your cheeks open. You close your eyes and let your head hang between your arms when it feels too heavy to hold up yourself. 

“Just want a quick taste,” Yoongi mutters.

“Shiiiit,” you hiss, feeling his tongue dance up and down your cunt. He licks you in broad, slow stripes before he puts his entire mouth on you and sucks sharply. “Just like that.” 

“Fuck.” The smack of his lips against your wet heat are bracketed by the slick sound of him stroking his cock, the filthy sounds echoing in the shower. “I could eat you out every day.”

“You do.”

“Fine.” His tongue zigzags back and forth, reaching to swirl around your click. He kisses your cunt and stands up. “I’ll make it twice a day, then.” 

The blunt head of his cock slides between your folds. You press back toward him, eager to have him push in and split you open. He tuts at you, giving you a gentle smack on your ass. “Eager.”

“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for it, Yoongi. Give it to me.” 

“Mmm.” 

The feeling of Yoongi sinking his cock into you slowly drives you mad. You feel like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thick length stretching your walls to the max. It feels like he’s in your guts when he bottoms out, the pressure immense and good and dizzying. 

He starts slow, giving a few shallow thrusts as you adjust to be pried open. You relax around him, falling into the pleasure as he begins to fuck you in earnest. Hands on your waist, he pulls your ass backwards, meeting every one of his strokes in a loud, wet smack of hips on ass.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you moan when he adjusts the angle, prodding your g-spot. “Yeah?” he asks through gritted teeth. “That the spot?”

“Yes, please fuck me just like that.”

Nothing else exists beyond this. The steam makes your skin even hotter, cloying the air and making it hard to breathe. It makes everything fuzzy, like you’re drifting in and out of reality, pleasure unfolding in you as you squeeze around his cock. 

Each snap of his hips is punctuated with stilted breath. You’re gasping, thighs burning as you take every inch of him, fingers curling against the wall, eyes rolling back as you fall into a mute space. You make sound but no words come out, the pressure against that spot inside of you driving you mad. 

Yoongi slides a hand from your waist over the curve of your ass and between your cheeks, thumb pressing gently on the rim of your ass. You let out a loud moan, fingers trying to grab the wall to no avail. The new stimulation feels delicious, Yoongi’s thumb pressing against your asshole in time with his strokes. He doesn’t push past the ring of muscles, but it doesn’t matter - it’s enough to send you careening closer to your orgasm, toeing the line of insanity. 

“Fuck, Angel,” he pants, fucking into you harder. “Just like that, make it fucking creamy. You gonna come?” 

“Fuuuuck yeah.”

His thumb presses harder against your rim. “Come on, give it to me.” 

“Shit shit shit shit.” 

You lose the ability to say anything. Your body folds forward, only held up by Yoongi and the press of the freezing cold wall as he fucks you with precision. It sends you over the edge, your knees knocking as you come, fists pressing into the wall as you yell through it. 

The sound of the shower is drowned out by your babbling. Yoongi thrusts hard a few more times, hand slipping away from your ass to grip your waist hard, chasing his high. He comes with a loud curse, fingers digging into your skin. 

For a moment, he leans into you, pressing his cock as far in as he can go. Your pussy throbs around him, every pulse ebbing around him. He presses kisses up your spine, hands sliding up your ribs to pull you upright until your back is against his chest. 

“Fuck,” he pants, voice rough. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“I mean entirely. Without sharing.”

You pause, looking up at him with a frown. “You know I haven’t been… taking clients for two years, right?”

He pauses. “What?”

“You stupid boy,” you laugh, laying your head against his shoulder. “Of course I wasn’t. I just wanted you.” 

“Then why stay there?”

You shrug a shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. The warmth of the orgasm blooms through you, Yoongi’s skin hot against your back and  the shower hotter still. “It was a place I knew you’d be safe when you visited. And I didn’t want to ask you for more. Everyone always wants more from you. I just wanted you.”

“All that time, I could have just… asked you to come home?”

“Yes. But it’s okay. I’m home now.”

He kisses your neck. “You are home, Angel.” 

[cosmicpearlz]

yours for the time being |5|

summary: what happens when your academic rival of years proposes an offer of fake dating? pure chaos.

pairing: gryffindor!jude bellingham x slytherin!reader

a/n: it’s taken a while for me to write this but thank you for being on this series journey with me! enjoy my loves <3

a typical saturday night. aka the day where the famous slytherin parties take place. most nights it was for winning matches and others, it was just for the hell of it. the common room decorated in various halloween decor. the group deciding last minute to have a costume party. taking the idea from the muggles and what they do to celebrate the holiday.

"you look smoking hot," pansy whistles at you, as you made your way downstairs. your costume being a vampire. a mini black dress and a black velvet cape with dark red platforms to match the fake blood that dripped from the side of your lips.

"so do you love!" you clapped for her sexy cat costume.

"i think we all look good," draco chips into the conversation.

"you're literally dressed as a wizard. talk about no originality." draco rolls his eyes at theo's statement.

"simplicity is way better than over doing it."

"you didn't put any effort into it," blaise says and stares at the slytherin boy as if he had grown two heads.

"haters are my motivators," draco said, as he walked away to finish putting more snacks and drinks out. it was amazing how much alcohol you guys managed to sneak in.

theo dressed as cupid. supporting the red wings and having the heart bow and arrow. blaise was dressed as beetlejuice. even having his hair spray green and having the exact face paint. you loved that your friends went all out. well minus draco.

"let's pregame this shit and see where the night takes us," pansy yells, not that she had to, but she wanted to get her point across. you guys cheered and each grab a shot to throw back. you missed the way theo, blaise, and pansy smirked at each other. it was going to be a long night.

-

jude felt stupid. why had he let his friends convince him to go to a slytherin party. the gryffindor boy hadn't spoken to her in weeks and now they both were going to be in the same vicinity. 'maybe we still would have been together if i didn't hurt her feelings'. is all he could think about. maybe he would've been by her side right now and maybe just maybe they would've had cute matching costumes. the boy was dressed as a vampire. the top hat and the stupid cape. he decided to put fake blood on the white button up shirt instead of having it on his face.

"you ready mates?" harry shouts for jude and ron. the other gryffindor boy dressed as captain america. ron dressed as spider-man.

"i'm ready to drink to my heart's desire."

"jude, you made that sound incredibly depressing," hermione says, coming down from her side of the common room. she dressed as a fairy. a matching costume that she wanted to do with luna.

"well lets get to it. don't wanna be late," jude mumbles, already walking towards the common room door. he was nervous to see her. what costume would she be wearing? is she as miserable as he is? did she even miss him? will she be wearing that sweet vanilla perfume that drives him crazy? his mind runs a million thoughts.

-

the party is in full swing. everyone holding a cup or two and dancing to the music. your friends had been sneaking glances at each other all night. not that you were really paying attention. too focused on the guy in front of you. a handsome ravenclaw that was about jude's height. maybe a little shorter than him. you know what they say, to get over someone, you must get under someone new. although, you were comparing the boy in front of you to the boy that secretly held your heart.

"so, i found it crazy that we were able to spot a group of doxies. in the middle of spring, right before-" every word fell upon deaf ears, as you watched harry, ron, hermione and jude walk in. suddenly, you felt sick. matching costumes with the one person who you avoided. ever since that day, nothing was normal.

"excuse me," you didn't wait for him to respond, walking away immediately to get a drink. taking a red cup, you poured yourself a drink and downed it. going for a second before pansy stops you.

"you alright love?"

"jude is here."

"why don't you wait in our dorm room? just take a breather really quick," you nodded and maneuver your way around dancing bodies. pansy's eyes follow your movement until she couldn't see you anymore. only then did she wink at harry and the plan was in motion.

"mate, can you help me find something?"

"like what?" jude raised an eyebrow at harry. a drink in his hand, while he heavily eyed his friend.

"i think i lost my ring."

"we just got here and you weren't wearing a ring."

"do have to spell it out for you?"

"what are you talking about?" harry dramatically sighs.

"i had a one-night stand with this slytherin girl and i left my ring in the room. i need to get it now while we're here," harry lied. a damn good lie if you asked him.

"you're impossible mate, lead the way," jude nods his head at harry to take the lead. harry leads the two of them upstairs. catching the eye of hermione and pansy, he slightly nods. step two was officially underway.

-

you sat on your bed, twirling the drink around in the cup. platforms and cape long discarded. what were you suppose to say to him? how much you truly were sorry? that you wished you could take it all back? how ironic that the minute you try to push him away and out of your mind again, he shows up. like he always did. even before the fake dating. he was a pest that wouldn't budge. a stupidly handsome pest.

"it should be in this one." you heard a muffled voice speak from outside the door. the door swings open and jude is pushed inside. you gasp quietly and sit up straighter.

"y/n?" jude stutters out in confusion.

"hi," you softly spoke. the two of you turn attention to the door that was slammed shut. a realization washes over you.

"jude open the door!" you hop off the bed and walk towards the closed door. he turns to pull at the knob, and it was no use.

"it won't open."

"and it won't open until you guys make up!" pansy yells over the loud music. "or make out! whichever comes first."

"no pressure though," ron says. 'no pressure my ass' you mumble to yourself.

hearing the footsteps grow in distance, you knew that they were long gone. you sigh and sit right back on the bed. jude stands there, unsure of what to do. only then does he realize the matching costumes. his heart swoons and breaks all at the same time.

"you're welcomed to sit," you pat the spot next to you. no use in prolonging the situation. it was now or never at this point. jude sits on the bed, making a point to sit at the end of the bed.

"matching costumes, aye?" he looks at you with a lopsided grin. it didn't reach his ears like it normally would've it, but you found it endearing anyway.

"yeah. maybe we're connected in some way," you said, while looking down at your lap. picking lint off your dress that wasn't anywhere to be found.

"like soulmates?" you lift your head meeting his gaze. oh, how you've missed those chocolate brown eyes.

"yeah maybe."

the silence takes over the room again. internally, you were panicking. what do you say? would it be worth it?

"soo."

"soo," he mimicked you. something that you both were used to. you let out a breathy chuckle.

"how are you and lavender?" turning your eyes back to the bottom of your dress. missing the way jude looks at you as if you were crazy. he felt somewhat offended.

"me and lavender? what are you on about?"

"i seen you guys," you shrugged your shoulders. the gryffindor boy scoffs.

"what are we doing here y/n? you put your friends up to this?"

"why would you think that?"

"you're trying to rub it in. well congratulations, you win," jude's voice seemly increasing by the minute. it left you dumbfounded.

"what could i possibly be rubbing in? i'm in the same boat you are!" your own voice getting louder as well.

"yeah right. i doubt you feel anything like the heartless slytherin you are." ouch.

"that's not true!"

"yes, is it. you don't care about anyone but yourself. you've proven that long before." jude was being mean that this point. his yelling and the hatful words that spewed from his mouth.

"that's not true jude! you're absolutely wrong."

"how can i be wrong? huh?"

"because i care about you, you fucking idiot," you yelled, which sends him into silence.

"you're the one that broke it off."

"yeah, because you've hurt my feelings and i don't want to continually go through that."

"i've apologized for it and i spilled my heart out to you. i told you that i would continue to apologize for it." tensions rising once more.

"right right, you're soo apologetic that you turn around and call me a heartless slytherin who only cares about herself," you crossed your arms and faced the wall. you refuse to cry in front of him. jude sighs and looks down at his lap.

"i was just upset. i didn't mean it," jude says in a quieter tone.

"so, every time you're upset with me, you'll throw how slytherins act like this in my face? how i'm a person that feels nothing?" you looked into his brown eyes with glossy eyes.

"y/n i care about you so much that it scares me. i don't know how you feel because you won't let me in. that's all i'm asking-"

"jude i like you too! is that what you want to hear? i hate that i hurt you but you have to understand that i was protecting myself. i've spent so long building walls to guard my heart and here you come. in a few months, you've managed to-"

jude doesn't let you finish, instead placing a hand on your cheek and bringing you in for a kiss. it was tentative until you start kissing him back. the boy's confidence boosts, and he slides his other hand to your waist. pulling you closer to him. you grab the collar of his cape and press into him more. lips crushing together. you missed the way his lips felt on yours.

he bites your lip, asking for permission. you allowed it, opening your mouth just enough for his tongue to squeeze through. without breaking the kiss, you straddle him. one leg sitting on either side of jude's thigh. naturally, his hands find your waist again. tongues exploring each other and fighting for dominance. the kiss comes to stop, hearing something break from the other side of the door. pulling away, you both looked at each other. it wasn't long before you guys share laughter.

"i've missed you," jude's laughter quieting down to confess to you. you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug and placing your face in the crook of his neck.

"i've missed you too." jude's arms hug your body tightly, sending warmth to spread throughout you. his head leans into yours and places a kiss onto your head.

"so, what do we do now?" you lift your head to face him, questioning where you go from here. jude gazes into your eyes, a small smile etching its way to his lips.

"we try. think you can manage that?" rising an eyebrow in a teasing manner. you grinned back at him.

"yeah. i think i can manage that."

"to that i have one thing i want to ask you."

"which is?"

"will you officially be my girlfriend? before you answer, know that we need to have open communication and i need you to let me into that pretty little mind of yours," jude says, ending his sentence with playfully pinching your side. you laughed and pushed his hand away.

"let me think about that."

"y/n."

"i'm kidding. of course i'll be your official girlfriend." jude smiles again, pulling you in for another kiss. you knew then that you guys were gonna be just fine. as long as you had each other.

[waffledforbreakfast]

First Encounters - [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

Staring: Rin, Shidou, Sae, Niko, Kaiser, Ness, Otoya, Karasu, Reo

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc (I MEAN HEAVY. forgive me, it gets a bit better later chapts i swear), bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, etc.

 >Rin

Rin Itoshi was always overshadowed by his older brother, constantly being referred to as “Sae Itoshi’s lil bro”.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him

Even the girls at school were only interested in him for the fame

But you were “nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS 🤪🥺” (lord save me)

You’ve seen several of Rin’s games, including the most recent one. He wasn’t quite playing as well as he usually did, but this went relatively unnoticed by fans

After the game, you took a gamble and decided to approach the boy

“Hey… Rin Itoshi right? Great game!” she tried to optimistic and complement him

“...Huh?” He just stared 😭 “Who are you…??”

“We’re classmates…? I just wanted to say I really liked watching you play! That last move was amazing, I can see why you went down the left side instead of the right, with defense being so tight and all..” she was starting to regret talking to the dry boy and laughed awkwardly “Well… Good luck with your next game!” she bowed and left

Rin just kinda stood there ;v;

“Huh… someone actually was watching me…” Bro had the smallest smile on his face  

>Shidou

You and Sae were roommates, everything worked out pretty well between you two

In fact, half the time, he wasn’t even home. Like now, for instant, he was out on a business trip and wouldn’t be home for another day

So imagine your surprise when you were peacefully watching Chainsaw Man in the living room, and your front door flies open

In the doorway stood a tall tanned man with blonde hair and pink eyes

“SAE MY LOVEEEE~ IM HERE FOR YOU” The man practically chanted, you had no clue if he knew whether or not you were there 

He finally notices, and you two have a moment of awkwardnes

“... Wtf are you doing iN MY HOUSE???”

“WTF ARE YOU DOING IN SAE ITOSHI’S HOUSE??”

“WE’RE ROOMMATES?!?!”

“...Oh”

Mentally facepalming at this man’s stupidity- “Sae isn’t home right now, also how did you get in??”

Shidou just shrugged “There was a key under the doormat” he spun it around his finger

You looked this man up and down, tbh, if he was an intruder, there was no way you could take him “You’re Shidou Ryusei right? I remember you from one of Sae’s games…” you said, mentally recalling the guy scream about dopamine

“Yessirr~” he grinned “Best striker in the world right here!”

 You could do nothing but sigh as you reached for your popcorn and prepared to get back to watching, “the tan man will sort himself out…” you wished thought

His eyes shot to the screen as you resumed the show, “Are you watching Chainsaw Man?” he asked

“Yea…??”

“YOOO THAT’S MY FAV, LEMME JOIN IN”

And before you knew it, he was curled up beside you eating your popcorn as you two binged the night away

>Sae

Sae’s perfume had ran out recently, and he found himself strolling through the mall for a new one

You, on the other hand, were called in for a last minute shift in the store since your co-workers cancelled on you. So, here you were, sitting in your little store, all by yourself

That is, until a ashen-brown haired man walked in

The first thing Sae noticed is you. You in all your beauty, standing behind the desk, sifting through the perfumes

He wondered why you worked for a scent store and not a modeling agency. That was until he actually got closer. 

Your sweet smell embraced him, instantly feeling comfortable in the small store

“Hey, you sell perfumes, yea?” he asked, with a small tilt of his head

“Mhm! One for every occasion, how can I help you?” you replied with a warm smile

“An everyday sort of thing. Nothing too strong…”

You thought for a bit, then one particular scent came to mind, you shuffled through the store to get it “Here, try this one.” 

It was a simple one with a slightly stronger undertone. It was a bit on the pricey side, but seeing how he was dressed, you were sure he could afford it

He tried it out on his wrist, and b the look on his face, you could tell he liked it

“Hm. Quite nice, I think I’ll take it.” he handed you back the bottle with a nod “Actually, I’ll take two.”

You smiled, just happy to make some sales “Great! I’ll get that packed for you.”

You bagged the two perfumes and handed it to him with a bow “Thank you for your purchase! Please come again!”

Sae walked out the door feeling much lighter than before, “It must be the perfume…” he thought, but why was it that he wished to know your name… 

>Niko

He comes and asks you to join his soccer team (Niko 11)

You had heard about what happened in one of the other classes, a boy named Niko had challenged the soccer team to a duel in 100 days. From your knowledge, Niko was not one to put himself out there “hm. Those Yu-Gi-Oh cards must mean a lot to them…” you though “Surely I won’t get dragged into this… right??”

Oh how wrong you were. You knew that he was recruiting teammates, and being one of the fastest people on the track and field team, it only made sense that he came to find you

Niko knew that you were pretty, but he didn’t know you were that pretty. Especially now that he was standing in front of you. “Uh- Hi….” he tired to keep his composure 

“...Hello, Niko, right? I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna ask…” You said, looking the boy up and down. His face was tinted with a bit of blush, it was clear the boy was not used to talking to people

“Y-Yea…” He muttered, he couldn’t tell if you were happy or not “So then- would you be willing to play on a soccer team with me?”

The way those teal eyes looked at yours, you just could not say no ;)

>Kaiser

Ness has been spending less time with him, and he’s wondering why. He soon finds out it’s you

“HUH?? What do you mean you’re ‘busy’ tomorrow??.” Kaiser demanded an answer from the poor boy.

“I-uhm… I’m going out with a friend…” the magenta boy gave him a weak smile “You should come with, I think you two would get along great!” 

Kaiser only rolled his eyes and scoffed “Your ‘friend’?? You mean the same one you’ve been texting for the past TWO WEEKS???”

Ness flinched “Y-Yea…” he looked up at kaiser “Is there a problem with that?”

Kaiser glared at him. Usually Ness would bow his head and spit out a thousand apologies. This new found “rebellion” was NOT supposed to happen. “It’s probably the doing of that ‘friend’ of his…” The blue haired boy thought

“Fine.” he looked Ness in his eyes “Let me meet them. Let’s see if they really are worthy of my prescance.”  

>Ness

He’s sent to a vending machine by Kaiser to fetch some food, but he forgot his wallet. Lucky, you’re a decent person :D 

“Ness.” Kaiser glared at the scared boy “Get me a drink. Anything but milk. Go.”

“I-Yessir!” Ness bowed before running off. Kaiser was in a bad mood, he didn’t want it to get any worse.

“A drink… where’s the vending machine…??” He looked around. And finally, he found one.

He leaned on the glass of the machine, catching his breath. “Hm. An energy drink maybe?? Or does he want some juice… no no, he had juice this morning. An energy drink it is.” he said to himself and reached for his wallet

“... oh sh1t-” 

Ness had been in such a rush that he forgot to bring money. He feel to his knees and let out a silent cry of despair

You, on the other hand, stood right behind him, trying to contain your laugh from the events unfolding in front of you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop a small chuckle from escaping, which you quickly tired coved

“Uh- Are you… alright??” you looked the boy up and down. He stared at you, eyes wide and mouth agape 

How could he embarrass himself in front of someone so pretty!! He covered his face with his hands, still on the floor.

You could only laugh “Forgot your wallet right? Here, let me pay” you felt kinda bad for the boy, but also slightly amused, which just made you feel worse.

You could practically see stars in his eyes. 

As you paid for the drink, he gave a grateful bow “Thank you so much, you saved me!” and before you knew it, he ran off

You could only shake your head and laugh at the interaction 

>Otoya

^Reader is assigned Otoya for secret Santa, and reluctantly gets him some gifts. He’s quite shocked when you get him things he actually likes

“Otoya” The teacher called, “Your Secret Santa gift.”

“Oh?” the boy took the gift from her hands. It was a gently wrapped box with a feeble attempt of a bow, which he could only laugh at. He noticed that the wrapping paper used was a green that was similar to the streak in his hair, and the ribbons to the rest. He had never seen such a carefully packaged gift. Even the ones he had gotten from his girlfriends exes were usually lame store bought ones.

That's why when opening the gift, he was so careful to not tear the paper.

As the teacher went around passing the other gifts around, Otoya opened his box and inspected the contents 

Inside he found 2 churros (his favourite), a set of headphones (he broke his a few days ago), a small phoenix (his favourite animal) figure, and a handwritten note.

He wondered who could know him this well, to have gotten him such personalized gifts. He deduced that it could only be his best bud, Karasu.

“Yo” Otoya approached the crow boy “thanks for the gift.”

Karasu could only stare “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything… sorry”

Otoya showed him the box “These, did you not get them for me?” he was confused.

Karasu picked up the letter “Why don’t you try reading it? Maybe it’ll tell you who it is”

The white haired boy neatly tore open the note and read it.

“Hm. It’s nothing but a simple ‘Merry Christmas!’ and whatnot…” he muttered. Now he kinda wanted to know who it was from 

Karasu took the card and analyzed the handwriting “Oh. That’s their writing” the observer said and pointed at you, watching them from across the room

“Ungrateful brat…” you swore under your breath, of course Otoya thought it was from Karasu. But come on, you hated getting gifts for a fboy like him. You should’ve at least got some credit

you sighed and left the classroom, considering that you got a crappy candle as your Secret Santa gift, you were pretty frustrated

Otoya caught up to you outside the room “Hey, [Y/N] right? Thank you for the gift” he flashed the best smile he could manage

“Yea…” you muttered, still sad about your candle “Hope you like it… Least you didn’t get something lame like this…” you turned the saran wrapped gift in your hands “Actually, how do you know my name? I’ve always tried to avoid you…”

“Oh uh…” he laughed awkwardly “I was your Secret Santa…”

>Karasu

You take notes very interestingly, using a different font for every subject. He tries to decode one of your notes, you catch him in the act and teach him

You always had a silly habit of encrypting your notes. They were simple observations you made on your classmates, but if anyone read them, you might be in a bit of trouble…

“Nagi keeps looking at Isagi… But isn’t he with Reo??” you quickly noted, automatically translating into your encryption. It wasn’t anything too complicated, it was pretty easy to get used to, it was just for an extra layer of protection. Surely once someone saw it was encrypted, they’d just give up reading it… right??

Wrong :p 

Karasu had been watching you write these for quite a while, but couldn’t figure out the pattern. But he never had the chance to actually see one up close

And that’s why he took the chance after class while you were in the bathroom.

He quickly pulled out your notebook from your bag, and flipped it open. He sat on the desk and got to work, trying to figure out the code

“Could it be numerical… no- that wouldn’t work…” he muttered to himself, unaware of the figure standing behind him

To be honest, you found this quite amusing. The class analyzer struggling to decode your notes. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

The look of fear and shock on this mans face as he turned to face you, it only made you laugh harder

“LMAOOOO- having a hard time, Mr. Genius?” you teased 

Karasu could only frown “Shut it…”

You smiled, and decided that this was too funny of a story you could tell your friends later. It was only fair you taught him your encryption in return

You sat down on the desk beside him, and started pointing out the pattern

He seemed to finally get it, everything clicked together like a puzzle in his mind “Ohhh, I get it. That’s really dope.” 

You could only laugh “I know right?”

>Reo

He’s practicing his soccer at school, and you stop by and judge him. You then point out everything he’s doing wrong, and leave. Man is stunned XD

You were just grabbing a drink from the vending machine before you left the school campus to go to your soccer team’s practice. 

Being in such a prestigious school meant only academic extracurriculars were provided, you you had to play club

As you grabbed your drink from the slot, a sound caught your attention. “That’s definitely the sound of a soccer ball…” you thought to yourself, having heard that sound several times “Who from this school would play soccer??”

You walked towards the campus exit, which just so happened to be the same direction as the field. And there he was, a purple haired boy, practicing his shots on a make-shift goal. 

You recognize him as Reo Mikage, I mean, the whole school knew him. You decided to get a better view and move closer

Upon further observation, it was clear that he was new to the sport, you could help but feel a bit bad as you laughed

Reo turned to you the second he heard your tease. He frowned “What.”

You composed yourself “Sorry sorry, I was just… admiring your soccer… skills. Yes.” You said, sounding more unsure of yourself than he was of you

He scoffed, “Please, what do you know about soccer?”

“Enough to be a starter on a good team” you shrugged smugly “You on the other hand… You could work on your passing. The ball’s trajectory changes every time, try making contact with the ball on a more consistent spot, and put more speed in it. Also- when you dribble, make sure to at least be somewhat aware of the field in front of you. I could take that ball off you instantly.” you laughed and left, remembering you still had practice to go to.

Reo on the other hand, was left there stunned, “No way… Someone else here plays soccer!” He made a mental note to find you tomorrow, before packing up. 

A/N: I GENINUNESLY HAD 2 STROKES RE-READING THIS-

[pagetsgirl]

bad day (drabble)

warnings: teeth-rotting fluff , and shitty writing

summary: Emily has a bad case, but luckily for her, she has an amazing wife who really knows how to take care of her.

a/n: english is not my native language, so i apologise for any mistakes!! also; my requests are open so don’t be afraid to reach out and request something <3

word count: 598

read on ao3 or below the cut

The case was in Texas, where the police department was filled with homophobic assholes who didn’t even know what 1+1 is. Safe to say, it wasn’t a good case for Emily, or anyone really. But now she was close to reaching home, she just wanted to dive into your arms, and let you take control.

You heard the familiar opening of the front door, followed by a heavy sigh when she took off the tight combat boots she’s been wearing all day.

You quickly made your way to the hallway, where you threw yourself into her arms, smelling the familiar perfume that you grew to love so much. The brunette wrapped her arms around you, and buried her face into the crook of your neck.

Of course you knew she had a bad case, as the two of you made sure to text the other throughout the day when the agent was away on a case.

“come on baby, how about we get you into a nice warm bath?” You say softly to your wife, knowing exactly what’ll help her wind down after a long week. “Yes please,” she replied softly, letting you take care of her.

You led her into the bathroom, never letting her go. As she undressed, you turned on the bath and let it fill with perfectly temperature water and good smelling bubbles, making sure to use the one that smells like vanilla, your go to smell, for extra comfort.

“Baby, could you maybe join me?” Her voice sounded so incredibly small, it was impossible to say no, especially paired with the puppy eyes she was giving you. You quickly undressed and slid into the tub, letting her settle between your legs. She let out a small sigh when the warm water eased the ache in her limps.

You two sat there in comfortable silence, until you started to softly massage the kinks out of her shoulders, causing her to let out a long sigh. Her eyes fell closed, and her shoulders relaxed as she laid into you even more.

You guys stayed there for around 20 more minutes, until the water started to turn incredibly cold. “Darling, we got to get out now,” you tell her. Emily softly shook her head. “I’m comfy…” she let out a soft yawn. “No babe, you’re going to freeze to death.” You softly pushed her forward, so you could get out of the tub, and grabbed a couple fluffy towels.

After both of you are wrapped into a towel, you grabbed two pairs of pj’s, making sure they’re both yours, so your wife wouldn’t complain about it. As you’ve made the mistake before, which resulted in you having to sleep on the couch (even though she’d join you about five minutes in).

Not even 5 minutes later and the both of you were wrapped in each other, limps being a tangled mess. “Baby…” She softly murmured. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for taking care of me,”

“I always will, pretty girl, I love you so much.”

She let out a soft giggle, just proving how exhausted she was. “I love you too, so incredibly much,”

“Good, now go to sleep, yeah? I’ll be there when you wake up, I promise.”

“Mmm, goodnight,” her eyes were already closed, and her breathing quickly evened out.

“Sweet dreams, my darling, I’ll always be there for you and I love you so much, I promise you,”

And just as you said that, Sergio sneaked into your bed and laid against your leg.

"I love you too Sergio," You said with a smile.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

cassian x reader: dating a high maintenance girlie

Hello, if this seems extra its cause it is but this is quite literally my high maintenance routine. This is just one of my favorite parts of life and I love the idea of these big burly men doing skincare with their girls. 

i’m a high maintenance girly bc i like to be. pls this isn’t a pick me bullshit type thing. Im a girls girl yall. 

-This man doesn’t know shit about self care. 

-He knows the basics but like, nothing that would genuinely make him feel comfy in his own skin even more than he already is. 

-He uses 3-in-1. Technically 4-in-1 because face wash is separate formula than body wash but you digress. 

-Y'all know that stereotype of a guy glowing up after getting a girlfriend? You guys were the blueprint for that. 

-You taught him his hair type (2A), his skin type (dry), his preferred scent profile for himself (spicy, woody, aromatic). What his favorite types of care products are, he loves leave-in conditioner, cream cleansers. He’s not a fan of super heavy moisturizers because he’ll get overstimulated.

-These are just things this man has never thought about. 

-When you two leave the house for a Court Duty, you end up doing Cassian's hair. He wants to look nice, for lots of reasons, but especially because he wants to be let back into Summer. He wants to be able to take you on Summer Court dates! 

-He lives for that sliver of time you’re able to squeeze in before going somewhere. You doing his hair, him staring at you in the mirror if you’re behind him. If you’re in front of him, his large hands on your plush hips as you bite your lip in concentration trying to make his wild hair look nice. The feeling of your fingers through his scalp and how even when there’s a knot, you never tug or pull hard enough that it hurts him. You’re gentle and sweet with him even when he thinks he doesn’t deserve it (spoiler: he always deserves it) 

-He loves how high maintenance you are, it helps him remember to take care of himself. 

-You do a little self care sunday reset type of thing. It helps you get ready for the week. 

-He finds these routines utterly fascinating. 

-He begs to watch you do them, not even in the dirty way but it's just so interesting to watch. You also banned him from getting frisky when you do the routines. This was your time, he was welcome to watch but he would step out if you asked because you needed to be alone. 

-Some days, your routines are a bit more intense, such as the monthly waxing for your legs and armpits. Coochie too. 

-He flinches every single time he watches you wax some part of you, especially the coochie. He kind of has an attachment to that part. 

-You do the whole shabang sometimes. Wax legs, armpits, etc. Exfoliating shampoo, regular shampoo, conditioning mask, conditioner. Then the body stuff, exfoliating, shaving any parts you didn’t want to wax, double cleansing your body with antibacterial then the fun scented stuff. Then when you’re out of the bath, face extractions, face wash, whatever else you want to add. And then body creams. Then you’re done. 

-He’s just amazed every single time. 

-He also loves that you make a little thing out of it. You make it fun for you. There's a whole closet filled with different scents, treatments, formulas, etc. 

-You always smell good. There are deodorants shoved in every single bag you own, every room for that matter. Massive perfume, bodycare, candle, anything that makes a room or you smell good, you have it. 

-Even going to bed, you put perfume on.

-He loves that you say “I only wear it for myself Cass, it’s just a bonus that you love it.” Because he knows it’s true. 

-Sometimes he goes in just to sniff around. The fool just stands there and sniffs stuff. You had no idea why he decided to sit in the closet and sniff things in the dark. However, you did know that when you opened the door to see a nearly 7 foot tall clown smelling your beloved collection, you screamed bloody murder. 

So loud Azriel came running with his knives. Cassian just looked at you like “what’s your deal bro?” 

You were trained by two of the most powerful warriors, yet your first reaction was to scream. 

“Why didn’t you try to fight me?” Cassian asked, “I’ve seen you kick someone down for less.” 

“I am in my bathrobe Cassian! You want me swinging my legs around with my flaps out?” 

Azriel chose to leave the room after that. 

-You also always have perfectly manicured nails. And somehow someway you taught your tricks to the Valkyries so now they are able to have beautiful nails while still disemboweling enemies. 

-Great, now he and Az have four she-devils with perfectly manicured nails and glossy hair that can slay their enemies with one swipe. The four of you were feral together. He wouldn’t be surprised if he walked into the camps one day to see some guys dead because they were sexist. 

-You also got him and Az roped into these skincare nights. 

-He loves sitting there with a face mask on and you using one of your crystal rollers rolling it onto his skin. Bougie bitch eats it up. 

-One of your favorite things to do is wear a sheet mask and hide in a closet.  Scares him every single time. 

-Your stuff is everywhere, you’d be damned if you were uncomfy in your own home. After talking to Cassian and Azriel to make sure you weren’t being a shitty roommate, you kind of went crazy. 

-Lip balms in every room, hand creams, candles. Hair ties and claw clips. Fuzzy blankets stashed in every trunk you could find. 

-Rhys made fun of it, but ate his words pretty quickly when Feyre saw the beauty of having lip balms and hair ties/claw clips stashed everywhere. (and he later found the joys of said products and gave you a gift basket as an apology….you didn’t even remember that he judged you because you simply didn’t care).

-Also, the guys live in fucking luxury. The home always smells good, they never have to worry about chapped lips or dry skin. Or pesky hair in the way. Anywhere they want is a blanket or cute pillow to prop their heads up. 

-they were living like animals until you showed up.

-Cassian having a mate is the best thing to ever happen to Az. 

-Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Emerie, Gwyn, Morrigan and even Amren shop your stash of body care if they wanna smell a certain way for a certain fun time (wink). 

-Even Nuala and Cerridwen will approach and ask you. Obviously you say yes. You own so much you’ll never get through everything in time. 

-Plus you’re a Girls Girl. You’re gonna be there for your girls in your life.

-Speaking of the ladies in your life. 

-When you and Cassian have twin baby girls, you were ecstatic. Either way you were going to be happy but you always wanted a girl and now you have two!

-Teaching them how to take care of their skin and hair has been the best for you and Cassian. He loves watching his girls play with their hair. He loves having his hair braided by them. 

-Family self care nights become a Thing (that sometimes an Uncle or Aunt will join).

-He loves you because you taught him how to actually care for himself and his mental health. You showed him how he needs to stop and appreciate the smaller things. That not everything has to be a chore. 

-He loves you more than anything, maintenance and all.

[lunajay33]

Both❤️‍🔥Part.2

Summary: There was just something about you that Rick and Daryl couldn’t deny, after your time with both of them and experiencing Daryl, Rick couldn’t wait anymore for his turn with you

•Masterlist• Part.1

It’s been a week since my first time with Rick and Daryl, i was sore for a little bit after but i was all good now and I really started craving them again but especially what being with Rick would be like but how do I ask for that again, maybe I could try and hint at it

Getting ready for the day I pulled on a pair of really short shorts I found out on a scavenge and a tight top showing my lower belly

I gained as much confidence as I could and walked out of my cell going outside to the field where the guys usually were working, but when I got outside they were talking by Daryl’s bike, I walked over stopping their conversation when they noticed me

“Hey guys” I said leaning on the front of the bike, they looked me up and down and god did it turn me on

“Hey baby, whatcha got on, pretty lil” Daryl said looking directly at your boobs

“What you don’t like it?” I asked fake whining

“No darlin, quite the opposite” Rick said running his hand up and down my waist

“Mmm good” I said as I moved around the bike and sat on it right infront of where Daryl was sitting, being basically ontop of his lap

“Always wanted to ride this” I said biting my lip

“What the bike or me?” Daryl asked squeezing my hips

“Both” I said as they laughed

“You know I still haven’t had my turn with you darlin” Rick said running his thumb over my bottom lip

“Maybe you should meet me in the guard tower later after our work, both of you” I said as I got of the bike, kissing both of them before walking off to help around the prison

“Damn what a woman” Daryl said to Rick

“You got that right”

After a long hot day of work and thinking about Daryl and Rick doing unspeakable things to me it was finally time to head to the guard tower

I had caught Daryl and Rick glancing at me throughout the day, and it made me smirk the way they’d look everytime I’d bend over, but I’d wasn’t innocent I checked them out too, seeing them lift anything as their arms would flex and the sweat would make them glisten it was mouth watering

Once I got into the top of the tower I pulled out this amazing perfume Maggie found for me hoping they’d like it, hoping to drive them even more wild for me

I did get a little nervous waiting for them but when that door opened and I saw them again I was ready but this was still only my second time, hopefully they could take the lead again

“Have ya been waitin long peach?” Daryl asked wrapping his arms around me going right into kissing my neck groaning when he smelt me

“Damn Rick she smells so good” he said leading me over to Rick who was already stripped except for his boxers, waiting in the mattress

He laid you on the mattress digging his head against my neck breathing me in and Daryl started pulling of my shorts

“Fuck, you’re intoxicating darlin” Rick pulled back eyeing my shirt

“Please…take it off” I whined

He took it in both his hands and ripped it off making me moan at the pressure

“What a pretty lil thing, matching panties and bra again, ya know red drives us wild” Daryl said as he played with the hem of my panties tracing the little bow and Rick started to massage my boobs over my bra

“Found ‘em, thought you guys would like it” I said grinding my hips up for Daryl to touch me

“Oh we like it darlin”

I felt something wet through my panties realizing Daryl was eating me out over my panties and it felt so much better than I thought, his lips sucking in my clit, groaning sending tingles through me, as Rick unclipped my bra and throwing them

Rick leaned in give me a sloppy make out, flicking my nipples as I slipped my hand in his boxer and took him in my hand running my hand up and down squeezing tighter around his tip, feeling his pre cum on my fingers

“You’re such a good girl, so good for us” Rick said between kisses spit all over our mouths and chin but it was so hot

I felt Daryl pull my panties to the side and the feeling of his mouth on my bare pussy was mind blowing but when he added two fingers curling them inside made me scream

“Ya feel good baby?” Daryl asked before diving right back in, I took a fist full of his hair and held him closer not caring that he needed air I needed more

“So good, fuck Daryl” grinding against his face, feeling his scruff rub against the inside of my thighs

As I continued to rub Rick he moved down to suck my tits, gently biting down and that’s what pushed me over the edge, cumming all over Daryl but he kept going

“Daryl wait…..fuck!……it’s too much” I screamed feeling so sensitive and soon I was cunning again accidentally squeezing Rick to hard feeling him cum erupt on my hand

As we all came down trying to catch our breath Daryl sat back his mouth and chin slick and shiny and I pulled my hand out of Rick’s boxers admiring his cum all over my hand

“Fuck sunshine ya taste so damn good” Daryl said wiping his face

I stuck my fingers in my both sucking the cum off as I looked Rick in the eyes seeing that feral look, then I took them out sticking them in Rick’s mouth feeling his tongue swirl around my fingers sent tingles to my clit making me moan

“I want you Rick I’m ready” I said spreading my legs even further for him as Daryl quickly stripped down to nothing

Rick ripped off his boxers and pulled off my panties, gripping my hips and spinning me over and placing me on my hands and knees

“Gonna take you from the back darlin, fuck you got such a nice ass” he said as he smacked my ass making me moan out not realizing it would feel so good

Then I felt a hand on my chin making me look up and it was Daryl looking down at me as his dick was hard and dripping infront of me

“Ya gonna be good fer us again?” He asked

“Yes I’ll be so good just both of you fuck me” I whined feeling incredibly needy still

I felt Rick’s tip line up with my entrance and feeling that lovely stretch as he slowly pushed in till he bottomed out, my mouth hanging open from how deep he was

“God Rick so good, you’re so big” I squeaked out as he pushed up against my cervix, feeling him in my stomach

He started to fuck me slow until I was stretch then picking it up, I took Daryl in my both swirling my tongue around his tip tasting that salty cum, it was intoxicating I loved it he tasted so good I could blow him all night

As Rick hit me from the back it pushed me further onto Daryl having his dick slide down my throat and it just kept going and going, the pleasure of both of them and the lack of air had my head hazy and a little dizzy but it almost made it feel so much better, and when Rick reached around and started rubbing my clit vigorously I came so hard only seeing white for a minute

Rick pulled out and came all over my ass and Daryl came down my throat at the same time, when he pulled out he held me laying me down

“Man I think we fucked her so good she in a trance” Rick said as they looked down at me

“I’m still here” I laughed tired still feeling my pussy throb

“Such a good girl, can’t get enough of ya” Daryl said as they both pulled back on their boxers, too taking his shirt and putting it on me

They both laid on each side of my running their hands up and my body

“You okay sweetie?” Rick asked placing gently kissed on my lips

“I’m okay, felt so good, did you guys feel good?”

“You did great, so tight I almost came right away you feel so good”

“Ya ain’t gotta worry with us peach” Daryl said rubbing my hip

“I…..I love you guys” I said feeling a bit worried that this was just sex for them

“Love ya too baby”

“I love you sweetie, you’re not just a nice fuck to us”

This was the start of a very loving, very sexually giving relationship, obviously Lori wasn’t happy but screw her she had her chance and blew it now Rick and Daryl were all mine

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ang3lc @blackvelveteen1339 @eternalrose81 @crashlyrose

[hiskillingjar]

Do you think you can make more of ren Hana x reader please and keep doing amazing amazing job 

yeah sure.

1300+, hyperfem mc, kind of...au post BTD2 ren where he's trying to be a normal guy and. doesn't work out for him. cw for ref to CNC but we're all freaks here so......

College was supposed to Ren's fresh start.

Well, community college was supposed to be, anyway. A full bank account and a computer full of fake documentation software and malware couldn't get him into a regular school (what with a lack of a GED and all).

So, he had applied to the closest community college with a sob story (something something abusive relationship that forced him to drop out, something something he’s trying to build a life for himself again) and gotten in on a partial scholarship to finish his high school diploma, and to study coding and programming after the fact.

It was good. Or, at least, it was movement to start a new life for himself, a normal life, a life he could be proud of that wasn’t built off of the legacy of-.

Then she happened.

He wasn't going to do this, he had told himself from the beginning. He wasn't going to let himself get caught up in the dazed and familiar spiral of infatuation and dangerous obsession, as he was so prone to do.

She deserved better than that. She was good and he was going to be good, too.

But...he was never that good at controlling himself.

Which was why they were making out in the college library, his hand up her frilly skirt (he was a sucker for that kind of thing and she almost leaned into it) and his tongue down her throat.

She moaned little whimpers against his lips, pressing her fingers in to his hair, her fake acrylic nails occasionally scratching at his scalp and rubbing the base of his ears, making him totally melt against her.

They were decorated with ‘My Melody’ charms this week, the pink matching the pale streaks in her blonde hair.

Like she had been plucked right out of his fantasies and placed in front of him.

Like a steak in front of a starving animal.

“Ah, Ren,” She gasped sweetly, wrenching her lips away from his as his fingers stroked over the front of her underwear. He pressed two of them against the slightly damp fold, and idly circled the plush flesh underneath, feeling the wet fabric cling to her skin. “Mmm…noooo, don’t…”

“You like that?” He whispered, dipping his head down to kiss her neck.

She smelled of perfume and powder foundation, and he was addicted to it.

“Stoooop,” She whined with the slightest pout, pressing her face into his shoulder and gripping his hair a little tighter, pulling a little too hard for it to feel good.

“Ngh,” Ren let out a little grunt, pulling himself away and shaking his head (like a startled animal) before staring at her, his brows knitting together as he drew his fingers back from her panties. “Are you not into this? Should I stop?”

“Huh?” She blinked as he pulled back, her fake lashes fanning against her cheeks, making her eyes look even bigger and doll-like. God, no wonder he was crazy about her. “Oh, no, I’m…really into it, actually.” She admitted shyly.

“But,” He tilted his head with a confused look. “You were telling me to stop…”

“Um…y-yeah,” She giggled, her cheeks flushing a soft pink, matching her blush, as she idly scraped a lock of pink hair behind her ear. “Ah, not to freak you out out or anything, but, mm…I’m kind of into that sort of thing…consensual-non-consent, roleplay…stuff. And, you know, we’ve been seeing each other for a while, so…”

Ren blinked too, his ears tilting back as his expression gave away even more confusion.

"Non-consent? You...think about that stuff?" He asked, idly hooking a fang over his lip and biting down.

"Ah," She shook her head and covered her face to hide a bashful smile. It was a ridiculously adorable gesture. "I-It's not that big of a deal...and a-a lot of girls are into that stuff, more than you think!"

"Isn't that kind of messed up, though?” He continued to press, drawing his hand back from her thigh and letting it trail down to her knee, where her sock was slipping down.

“I mean, I know it's a little messed up, even if it’s not...the real thing," She insisted, her hands back in her lap (like she was chasing after his hand, chasing some way of grounding her body to the Earth) and looking at him, sweet sincerity in her big eyes. "I know it is. But it's like a...reclamation kind of thing, you know?"

Ren frowned.

"Reclamation, wha...?"

"Like, taking bad things that have happened to you and,” She paused, biting her lip to hide a thoughtful frown of her own. “...Putting them in a situation that you have control over. A situation you can stop, if you need to."

"Huh..."

He’d never considered anything like that before.

Ren did know, probably more than most, that there were a lot of…weirdos out there (pot calling the kettle black, he knew), but he hadn’t considered that she might be like that too.

It didn’t make sense to him. She dressed in pink and white, got new nail designs every two weeks, and told him extensively about her plans to program a game about cat sitting when she had finished their course.

Girls like that didn’t have the darkness that he had, did they?

She was his ‘sweet one’, after all, his innocent, little angel, his doll, his Madonna, his-

"Please don't think I'm weird..." She murmured, her smile dropping at little at his extended silence. “I was being a little hasty, I know that. We don't have...I was just trying-"

She was so nervous. She was so worried that showing her darkness was going to scare him off.

If only she knew how often he though the same.

"No, no, I-" Ren cut her off with a slight chuckle, rubbing her knee affectionately. "It's okay," He then said, giving her an encouraging smile (trying not to let it grow into something bigger, scarier, more threatening, more honest). "I...I like it too, I think.” He knew, but he didn’t want to tell her too much. Not yet. “I like that you like it, too. We can keep going."

Her eyes widened a little and that sweet, innocent smile came back to her face.

"Really?" She said, her voice filled with something close to awe.

"Yeah," He dipped his voice down low and moved in closer again, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around her wrists and squeezing tight, keeping them pinned together (in lieu of any bondage) as he gave her a fang filled smirk. "Let's keep going."

She shivered, trying to wrench her wrists away from his grip as he pressed his smirk to her neck for a harsh bite.

“AH!” She gasped, her soft thighs pressing together as he dug his teeth into her skin, bruising her, marking her as his. “No, no…s-stop-“

He paid no attention to her protests (uncaring if they were even real or not) as he dug his teeth in a little harder, feeling the first pinpricks of blood welling against his lips as he reached one hand back up her skirts and began to knead at her panties again.

She was much wetter than she had been before, and he didn’t stop himself from purring lowly in delight.

“Dirty girl,” He murmured hotly, laving his tongue over the bloody bite on her neck. Her cute blouses weren’t going to hide that one, and he struggled to contain his delight about that. “Getting off on this, aren’t you? Me touching you when you don’t want it.”

“Nghh…” She kept twisting in his grip, her bottom lip swelling as she bit down even harder. “I’m not…getting off-“

“Yessss, you are,” He drawled, suddenly pulling the gusset of her panties to the side and pressing his fingers inside of her. Thank god it was late, and the library was empty. “Look at that, angel…I think your body is smarter than your head~”

“Fuck,” She swore, pressing her face into his shoulder again and tensing up even tighter. “T-That’s good…”

“I know,” He crooned, pressing a wet kiss to her cheek and sliding his fingers deeper. “I know it is. Good girl…”

“Just let me take what I want, now…”

[therapycat21]

Victoria Secret Perfume

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x musician!Reader

Type: One Shot

Description: The reader becomes friends with Noah and they make the social media world run in circles.

Word Count: 1049

“Ugh, that was amazing!” I gasp out, I’ve been out of breath since playing the seventh song and just now catching my breath. The group and I stood talking for a bit before our manager butts in “My favorite people in the world, sorry for interrupting but there are some people here to meet you”

I look around confused as does the rest of the group “We’re not supposed to do fan meet and greets tonight” our lead singer Tia says to him. He shakes his head smiling “I was told that there was another band in the audience tonight and they wanted to meet you guys” He says smiling too hard, I squint my eyes at him before asking “Who?” his phone beeps and he walks over to one of the doors, before opening he smirks at me “its the band bad omens.”

I can feel my heart starting to pound, I told Carlisle in confidence how much of a crush I had on their singer, and knowing him, this wasn't just a coincidence that they are here after telling him. He opens the door and welcomes the band in before walking them over to us.

I watch as he introduces the girls by name and I make eye contact with Noah as he now stands in front of me, I inhale a subtle deep breath before smiling up at him “Hi I’m Y/n” I introduce myself, sticking my hand out. His hand is so warm as he shakes my hand, holding it a few seconds longer (Or I’m being delulu) He smiles down at me “Yeah, I used to watch your live streams”

my heart stutters as he laughs slightly at my reaction. I close my mouth, not knowing it was open. “Thank you, you guys are amazing” I realize I’m only addressing Noah and I look to the side at the rest of the band “Seriously, You guys killed it” they smile in appreciation. I look back and notice Noah still staring at me. 

That is how we became best friends, fast forward to now and a lot has changed, Tia left the group to work solo, I, Isla and Valery decided to stay a throuple and it’s been even more amazing, They deemed me to start singing and the fans have been so supportive and like our new image.

The band and I are very good friends with Noah’s, more so Noah and I have become close, him helping me with my performance anxiety and me helping his. Over the past year, fans have been going crazy over our friendship, now and then we come across a fan edit of us on TikTok, and it's pretty funny reacting to them on live stream.

I sit at home in my gaming room and have been live streaming the past two hours playing a game and talking to some fans when my phone lights up with a message. “Speak of the devil” I laugh and look at Noah's message asking if he can come over, after responding I go back to streaming.

“So I’ll probably see you all at the next show here in Virginia soon, I’m so excited,” I say with excitement not knowing Noah has just walked in the room but considering I can’t hear with these headphones on. I looked at the chat box as it was starting to go crazy “Someone’s behind you?” before I could turn I felt warmth surrounding my back and sighed in relief.

Noah bends behind my chair, hugging me from behind, nestling his head in the side of my hair, I chuckle as the chat starts spamming and I can barely read the messages. He lets go and swings a chair over to sit next to me “I didn't know you were gonna be here that quick, you scared the shit out of me” I lightly slap his stomach. He laughs and catches my hand in his “I was already on my way over when I called you” I start to laugh hysterically.

I look at the chat, “Please tell me what Noah smells like?” I laugh and shake my head, “Are you and Noah together?” I shake my head again “Noah looks like he would smell like cinnamon or mint but in reality, he smells like Victoria's Secret perfume” I smirk at the comments flowing through and look over my shoulder at him.

He wasn't even paying attention to the stream, he was staring and watching his hand rub back and forth on my side and back, I tapped his knee and he looked up “Mhm?” I laugh as he isn't paying attention “They were asking what you smelled like” he furrows his eyebrows and looks to the stream “Some people say I look like I smell like mint or maybe cinnamon but I smell like that perfume you use” he points to me at the end.

I continue to stare at him, I forget how deep his voice can get, I break away from my thoughts when I see his face form into a smug smirk, and he looks me up and down, I take a quick breath and turn my attention back to the stream.

“Why would he smell like you?” I read one of the comments, I glance at him slightly and hover my cursor on the end stream button “Because when he lays on top of me at night my smells linger onto him” I laugh and quickly end the stream before the fans spam and go crazy.

I look at Noah as he starts to laugh “I can’t believe you did that, they're gonna go feral now” He says standing up from the pink furry desk chair, he holds his hand out for me to help me stand up. I stare up at him and hug his waist “I gotta give the fans what they want” I smirk, tap his chest, and walk out of the room. 

Noah stands in the middle of the room and glances at me as I walk away, smirking and feeling proud and claimed by the girl who is the love of his life and the girl who makes him willingly spray Victoria's Secret perfume on so he can smell her when she’s not in a room.

[hoesheez]

Free Racha…

3Racha/AFAB Reader

WARNINGS: free use, unprotected sex, language

A/N: been wanting to write a fic with both studio sex and putting moans into a song, dont ask why haha

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

After dating the men of 3Racha for a few months now, you thought it was finally the perfect time to ask them something. It was something you had been thinking about for a while now, the thought of it fueled many of your late night thoughts you used to pleasure yourself. One day when the four of you were finally in the same room, you brought up your idea.

You were all hanging out in the kitchen, playing a game of UNO when you mustered up the courage to ask them. “Do you guys know what free use is?” Jisung practically choked on his drink, “Come again?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Changbin had stifled a laugh and hid behind his cards while Chan turned to you with an eyebrow raised. “What about it?” he asked curiously.

The three men looked at you, your words caught in your throat. “Come on then,” Changbin said as he placed his hand on the table, his muscular arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. “Yeah, tell us Y/n,” Jisung spoke next. Seeing as how you couldn’t get out of it now, you sighed and cleared your throat. “Well, I wanna try it with you guys, it really turns me on thinking about it.” The men looked at one another, “You sure?” Chan asked. With him being the first man you started dating out of the trio, he knew you more than the others did and wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into. He placed a hand on your thigh and squeezed , “Cause Im definitely on board.” Changbin and Jisung stood up as if they’d miss out on something, “Me too!” they both said in unison. You giggled at their enthusiasm, “Cool, uhmm,” you said and stood up, walking over to Changbin and Jisung who sat on the other side of the table, “should we try it out now?” you leaned in front of them on your hands and looked at them with a devilish smirk. Changbin reached out and pulled you in for a kiss, meanwhile Chan was already behind you pulling down your pants. Changbin pulled away and began undoing his pants as you leaned over to Jisung and gave him a kiss next. “So guys, when will you both be free so we can start working on the song?” Chan asked as he licked his hand and pumped himself, getting ready to enter you from behind. By now, you were already leaning on your arms sucking off Changbin and Jisung simultaneously. “I have an appointment tomorrow, why not this weekend?” Changbin huffed as you worked on him, taking his length all the way to the back of your throat. “Cant, we’ll be at dance practice all day.” he explained as you pumped him with your free hand. The men continued to talk and go about their business as you obeyed and let them fuck you however they liked.

Ever since then, they’d use you freely whenever they wanted. Whether it be at home or in the studio. When you were alone with each of them or altogether, it was incredible. Your deepest desires finally coming true, and the men you loved sharing every experience with you.

So of course when chan texted you to come over to the studio, you knew that you’d be used and fucked exactly how you liked. Just the thought of it caused your pussy to ache with need. You got ready and decided to wear your prettiest lingerie, some tight shorts that made your ass look amazing and sprayed yourself with your most intoxicating perfume. You stopped by their favorite restaurant to get some food and hurried to the JYP building to meet your three boyfriends.

You rode the elevator up and went to your second favorite place besides home and knocked on the door. Jisung answered, looking you up and down in appreciation, but then paying more attention to the bags of food. He took them from you and let you inside, finally saying hello with a gentle kiss. Chan turned away from his computer and looked at you, then did a double take, this time looking at you longer. He tapped Changbin who was behind him on his phone. The muscular man looked up at him as if he was going to say something but then followed Chan’s eyes to where they fell on you. You watched as he bit his bottom lip and shifted in his seat. “I brought food,” you said and put your things down before coming over to give Chan a kiss. He kissed you back and held the back of your head, “You look amazing.” he whispered against your lips. You smiled and went to Changbin, who offered you a seat on his lap. You sat on his thick thighs and leant in to kiss him. He couldn’t help himself and immediately undid his pants, pulling out his thick cock for you to suck. You quickly moved on the couch, laying on your belly and taking him into your mouth. Jisung came to sit and you moved your legs up and allowed him to sit, putting your legs back on his lap after he sat down to begin eating his food. He used one of his free hands to squeeze your ass, “How’s the song coming along?” he asked with a full mouth. Chan sucked his teeth, “Its, okay,” he said with a nervous laugh. Changbin patted your head as you sucked his dick, your hands coming to tug on his balls. He moaned softly, “Should we take a break?” he suggested and Chan shook his head, “There’s really no time, we have to push through the night, we’ve got this.”

He stretched with a small groan and quickly went back to mixing sounds. Jisung tapped you to get you to move your legs and he got up and put his food down. “Lets hear what you have so far.” he said and reached around your back to unbutton your shorts and pull them down your legs. “Alright, its not very long but,” he said and a tune began playing.

It sounded great to you, but these men were professionals, anything less than perfect wasn’t good enough. So you minded your own business and continued to suck Changbin off, ready to help in any way you could. You perked your ass up to Jisung after he finished taking off your shorts. He leaned in and began kissing your rear, pulling your underwear down to get more access to your plush skin. “Its a good start, lets record some vocals and see.” Chan turned to him, “Should i just do that now? Maybe it’ll help us decide on how to finish it?” He asked between the two men. Changbin nodded, “Good idea.” he said and pushed you onto him further. You gagged and dug your nails into his taught thighs through his jeans.

Chan started to set up the microphone so he could add some vocals to the demo. Jisung had already taken his cock out and slid it against your wet folds, slapping your ass and moaning at how wet you were. You immediately pulled off of Changbin, “Harder, Sungie, please” you begged and Changbin roughly took you by the hair and shoved his cock back into your mouth. “Go on, give them another.” he groaned out as he held your head down, his dick at the back of your throat making you gag. Jisung slapped your rear again, harder this time and you squirmed under him with a moan.

Chan finished setting up the microphone and cleared his throat to begin singing . While he recorded, Jisung finally entered you, his dick dragging deliciously against your tight walls. Changbin let go of you and you inhaled deep, his cum mixed with your saliva dripped from your mouth. He removed his shirt revealing his muscular body and moved to be on his knees on the couch, much like the position Jisung was in on the other side. They had you now on either side and thrust into you roughly in tandem. You moaned deeply with a stuffed mouth as the men thrust into you hard. Chan sighed, his need to be inside of you growing. He tapped the spacebar on the keyboard and the new tune began to play.

“Wait,” he said suspiciously and played it again, “Did you guys hear that?” Changbin and Jisung stopped, as their leader played the snippet over. You payed attention to the music after the man stopped and you could hear a moan in the background of the song. “Was that?” Jisung asked and slammed into you from behind. “That actually, sounded pretty good.” Changbin said and pulled you off of him.

He moved to take Chan’s place at the computer, chan coming over to your waiting mouth and pulling himself from his shorts. “You’re moans sound so good, lets hear some more.” he entered your mouth and wasted no time in thrusting to hit the back of your throat. Jisung picked up his pace and fucked you harder, his hands gripped your rear, sure to leave beautiful marks. He huffed and moaned, thrusting faster and nearing his peak. You felt him pick up his speed, moaning loudly when he reached a hand between your legs and began rubbing your clit. You gagged and huffed on Chan’s dick, unable to move, only looking up at him with tears in your eyes. “Play it back.” he said and Changbin clicked the mouse and replayed the part he just recorded.

Your whiny moan played in the background with the baseline. The three of them looked at each other, “So, we’re doing this?” Chan asked with a laugh. You got off of him quickly, “Start recording! I’m gonna cum!” you yelped and Changbin quickly hit record and brought the microphone closer to you. You huffed out a few light moans, growing louder and louder until your orgasm washed over you. “Ahhhh!” you cried out beautifully, the boys stunned from the noise you had just made.Jisung chuckled and stuttered against you, soon reaching his peak. He sighed and leaned down, kissing the back of you neck and trailing soft kisses down your back.

Your throbbing core spasmed on his softening cock before he finally slipped out of you. Jisung then tucked himself into his pants and went to the computer to review what was going on. “Come here babe.” Chan said and he brought you by your hand to sit on his cock. Your breath hitched and he bottomed out, your hands going to his shirt and gripping hard. “Play that one back.” Chan said as you began riding the leaders cock, greedily bouncing up and down as your orgasming moans played from the computer speaker. Chan removed your top and immediately grabbed your breasts and squeezed them through your bra. “That one might be a little, too suggestive.” he pumped up into you, meeting your hips with his. Changbin and Jisung agreed and began editing it to sound more subtle. Your head rested on his chest as you moaned and whined with how good he was fucking you. “Babe,” he said softly and turned your face to his. “Thank you.” he whispered against your lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, nibbling on his lower lip before you pulled away. He lifted you up and moved you to lay on your back on the couch. He grabbed one of your legs and pulled it closer to his body, letting the other hang off of the couch.

The sounds of your soaked and messy cunt caused the other men to look over at you getting fucked. Chan was fucking you so hard, your breasts bounced wildly with every thrust. “Damn.” Changbin said and stood up, and moved closer to you to fill your open mouth with his cock once again. “Let me try something,” Jisung mumbled and sat down, turning his attention to the computer. He clicked away and worked as you got pounded behind him: Chan picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming more brutal and precise, “See if there’s some samples saved, and add some autotune.” Chan grunted through his teeth, his hips stuttering as he climaxed. His seed shot into you and he moaned, breathy and soft. The sound of his moans and his last hard thrusts caused you to cum once again, your body involuntarily pulling away from him as you couldn’t handle the overstimulation.

“Auto tune? On the moans?” Jisung asked as he turned his head to look at Chan, who was standing up and stuffing himself back into his shorts. He went over to the computer and the two of them started disagreeing on how to finish the song. Changbin pulled out of your mouth and came to help you to stand up with a strong grip on your hand, “Just do rock, paper, scissors.” Changbin suggested and the other men began playing rock, paper, scissors to see if there will be auto tune or not. “Idiots,” Changbin said under his breath and the two of you laughed.

He turned you so that your back was to him, then he lifted you up, holding your thighs and arms with his arms over you.He thrust up into you, his balls slapping against your ass loudly. The arguing men quickly noticed what was going on, their heads turning and jaws going slack as Changbin used his strength to fuck you in a full vaginal nelson.

“Ahhh fuck!.” you cried out as he fucked you fast and deep. Jisung tapped chan to start recording and put the microphone in front of you, capturing your babbles and moans for them to hear later. “Assholes,” you huffed out, feeling your body go flush, all of a sudden feeling slightly embarrassed. The men teased you and laughed with you as Changbin continued.

“Well the songs almost done, just a bit more tweaking.” Chan said and focused on his work. Jisung brought his hand to your cunt, using his fingers to rub your clit, “Good, I’m so ready to head home,” he sighed and rubbed you faster. Changbin picked up his pace, fucking you faster, “You close?” You nodded, tears falling from your eyes at this point, “Yes Binnie.” Jisung continued to rub you, and along with Changbin’s brutal thrusts, you soon came, squirting with a small scream. The youngest’s jaw dropped as he got wet in the process, “Wow! Do it again!”

Changbin soon came into you, his strong arms holding you tight as he grunted out his climax. He sighed and put you on the floor, kissing your cheek before you stumbled and fell into Jisung’s body. He held you close, “Okay fine, maybe next time.” he kissed you on the lips and brought you to sit on the couch, which soon turned into you laying on his and Changbin’s laps. Chan came over and kissed you on the forehead, “Let me clean you up.” His voice was soothing as he grabbed some tissues to clean you and gave you the spare shirt and shorts he kept in his studio for emergencies.

The four of you relaxed and ate after the intense session. Changbin massaged your legs and feet, while Jisung rubbed your head gently and occasionally bent down to kiss you. Chan sat on the floor next to you, eating his food and feeding you at the same time. Once he was done, he went over to the computer, “Ok so, this is the song so far.” The song that played through the speakers was a slow r&b track with high hats and a sample of Chans vocals, along with your occasional moans hidden in the background music. “And heres what it sounds like with autotune.” he said and played the song. It sounded horrible, definitely not as good as the first. You all agreed it was trash with a look at one another, Jisung breaking out into a contagious laugh. They teased the way your moans sounded with the note changes thanks to the tuning, something you were sure they’d never stop doing for a while. You just laughed and enjoyed the moment with them, ecstatic that they cared about you so much and that you could truly be yourself with them.

A/N: no because tell me they wouldn’t tease you relentlessly with auto tune moan jokes lmao also this definitely isn’t one of MY fantasies 👀 you have no proof!!

[w1ngedsoul]

hi! can you do headcanons on being married to phil wenneck. please and thank you!!🩷

requests are open!

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual themes, swearing.

First of all, he would be the kind of husband to constantly compliment you and build up your confidence.

"Wow, I really can't speak, huh? Must be because of how gorgeous you look."

"There's not a single thing I don't love about you."

He's so sweet, it's honestly adorable 😭

When he introduces you to his friends, you all get along really well, especially you and Stu because of your careers in medicine.

He's the type of man to have your wedding date as his phone's password or tattooed onto his wrist.

He loves when he comes home after a long day of work and spots you humming to the radio while swaying yourself around the kitchen.

You'll feel warm arms wrap around your waist and his nose will bury itself into your neck.

He loves your scent, so much so, that whenever you go out with friends for a night away or a road trip, he'll walk over to your vanity and smell your perfume.

It's a mixture of vanilla and lavender, it makes Phil's mind go hazy when you walk past or when you're hugging him.

Phil loves pda. Even if it's something small like holding your hand or your lower back, he loves showing off your relationship. Showing that you're his.

Phil also loves cooking, you'll take it in turns each night to make tea and you'll each rate the other's meal out of five stars. Whoever has the most stars added up gets to choose a restaurant to eat out at.

Once for your birthday, he had told you to wear a pair of red panties to a fancy Korean restaurant, it was until Phil revealed a remote ten minutes that you had pieced together his plan.

The poor waiter, he took your order while you refrained from moaning aloud in front of everyone.

When you got pregnant with your first child, Phil was overjoyed. He bought diapers, dummies, toys, clothes, monitors, a small bathtub, a car seat, I could go on forever.

Let's just say by the end of your first trimester, you already have everything you'll need for your whole pregnancy.

He didn't need to watch tutorials on how to hold a baby, he used to volunteer to take care of his little brother when he was younger.

He got you to wear overalls because he thought you looked sexy in them, seeing you walk around adjusting the straps...

His mind wanders, I mean, there's not a rule to say sex is bad while pregnant...

Let's talk about Phil when he drives.

Lord have mercy 🙏

When his hands grip onto the steering wheel, while concentrating on the directions>>

I just know he gets road rage, no one can convince me otherwise.

"Move out the fucking way!"

"Watch it prick!"

🛐

Just watching him turn the steering wheel, or when he looks back while parking turns you on.

Most of the time, he'll notice the lust in your eyes and will park off to the side.

Sometimes you're stuck in traffic and he'll trail a hand up your thigh, a couple kisses are peppered upon your neck.

Once, you guys had been in traffic for around twenty minutes and Phil decided to take you in the back of the van he borrowed (what Stu doesn't know won't hurt him)

You had been in there for only five minutes when the road had started up again, all you could hear was loud beeping horns from angry drivers.

Phil would definitely try and get you to avoid Alan for one specific reason; he's a pervert.

Once, you, Phil and Alan got trapped in the basement of Stu's house without signal and Alan confirmed Phil's suspicion.

"Looks like we'll be trapped a while...y/n, is it?"

"Knock it off!"

Something that's always funny, is Phil coming home drunk.

"There was this girl, and she asked for my number and I was all like 'No! I have...a wife."

And then there's the part where he's really romantic.

"God, I love my wife. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know? She has these eyes that are so bright, I could stare into them forever. And when she looks at me, I can't help but be nothing but honest with her. Do you have someone like that?"

"Yes, I do."

@bradleybeachbabe hope you enjoyed! Love you 💕

[madangel19]

Ghostober Day 14: Tender Sex

Pairing: Terzo/Omega

Summary: Omega helps Terzo relax after a rough meeting with Sister Imperator

Contains: Slight angst, tender sex, ghouls cuddles, quintessence use, jerking off, mention of mpreg, minute man Terzo

Kinktober list by @kroas-adtam and you guys can also read this on Ao3!

Word Count: 1005

Omega was reading a book by the fire when the door opened. He looked over, a smile on his lips as he expected to see his beloved little mate saunter in, but what he saw was much different.

Terzo looked miserable as he walked in and shut the door behind him. Omega could smell Sister Imperator’s perfume on Terzo. Another bad meeting. 

“That woman will be the death of me, Omega,” Terzo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked over to the armchair across from Omega and sat down dramatically. 

“What did she say this time?” Omega asked, putting his book down.

Terzo was silent for a moment, gazing into the fire. His expression changed from anger to sorrow as he sighed.

“Do better, but I’m always doing my best for her and the ministry. Dannata donna,” he grumbled, his hands balling into fists in his lap. 

Omega moved to kneel before his Papa. He needed some comforting in these trying times. He took his hands in his own and kissed them tenderly.

“You’re doing an amazing job, Terzo. She just can’t see it like I do,” the ghoul said, gazing up at Terzo in adoration. The elder man’s lip began to tremble and tears welled up in his eyes.

“Oh, Omega. Only you and the rest of the ghouls will understand all the hard work I do. It’s so tiring hearing her words. So tiring,” he said, reaching down to caress the side of Omega’s face. A purr rumbled in his chest as he nuzzled Terzo’s hand, turning his head to kiss the inside of his palm. 

“We’ll be rid of her someday. She can’t live forever and when that day comes, you’ll be the one in charge,” Omega said, smiling when he saw the mischievous glow in Terzo’s eyes. 

“That will be a glorious day, my dear Omega. Absolutely wonderful,” Terzo crowed, his gaze going to their large shared bed. Omega followed his gaze. He didn’t have to think twice before scooping Terzo up in his arms and carrying him to bed.

“We should fuck on her grave. The ultimate fuck you to that woman,” Omega said, chuckling darkly at the thought.

“Mmm, I like that, mio caro,” Terzo purred before kissing along Omega’s neck, making him purr even louder. 

“Let’s do it,” Omega said while sitting Terzo down on the bed. 

Terzo was about to take his top off, but Omega stopped him in his tracks. 

“Let me undress you,” the ghoul said.

“Ah, of course,” Terzo said, dropping his hands.

Omega took his coat off, making sure not to damage anything in the process. He had ripped off plenty of clothes off of his beloved, but he wanted to take things slower tonight. Once his jacket was off, he unbuttoned his top and removed it. He saw his exposed shoulders and kissed along his warm skin while taking his shoes off and tossing them to the side.

“You’re so good to me, Omega. Always so good,” Terzo sighed, reaching down to cup the front of Omega’s pants. With just a few caresses from his expert fingers, Omega grew hard under his touch.

“So are you, Papa,” Omega murmured, palming the front of Terzo’s pants and feeling his already hard cock. 

“Free me, Omega,” Terzo moaned, unzipping the ghoul’s pants and freeing his cock. It was a good day for him to go commando.

Omega was quick to unbutton his pants. He then pushed Terzo on his back with ease and pulled them off along with his undergarments. He took a moment to take in the sight of his mate and felt love and passion swell up inside him. He was beyond lucky to be with such a man.

“You’re amazing, Terzo. So beautiful,” he said, undressing completely.

Terzo’s cheeks turned a light shade of red under his face paint, something Omega always loved to see. There had been some times he made his Papa flustered during services and he always tried to hide his face, but there was no hiding now. 

“Mm, my big ghoul. So perfect. Come here,” Terzo cooed, opening his arms out to him. Omega chuckled and crawled into his arms and held him close to his body. The smaller man’s face was buried in his furry chest as he held him. Omega couldn’t help but chuckle as Terzo nuzzled his chest with a sigh. 

“Tell me what you want, Terzo. I’ll give it to you,” Omega said, reaching down to caress his cock. 

“Make me forget that devil of a woman, Omega,” Terzo said, pulling away from his now paint-stained chest. 

“I will, Terzo. I will,” Omega whispered before pulling him into a tender kiss. 

He deepened the kiss with a soft growl, wrapping a hand around Terzo’s cock. Terzo moaned into the kiss, his body trembling from pleasure. After a few moments, Omega reached out to Terzo with his quintessence and after getting into his head, blocked out any negative thoughts about that woman. It wouldn’t last long, but it would be enough for the night. 

“Ah, Omega~,” Terzo moaned, biting playfully on Omega’s lip as he rutted against his hand. He wrapped his arms around Omega’s middle, keeping him close. 

Seconds passed and Terzo spilled himself onto his hand with a sharp cry. Omega raised a brow at his mate and Terzo chuckled in embarrassment.

“Guess I was just a bit too excited there, amore,” he said, wiping away sweat from his forehead. 

“It’s okay, love. We have all night together. Come here,” Omega purred, moving to get into a sitting position. He smirked, rubbing his cock with one hand and beckoning his human to join him with the other.

“You gonna impregnate me right here right now, Omega?” Terzo chuckled, crawling into his lap and straddling him, his ass pressed against his monster of a cock.

“We can certainly try, Papa. I’d love to see you carrying my kits someday,” Omega smiled, holding his mate close and kissing him once more.

[mywifeymax]

My Secrets (Dean forester X FemReader)

When jess's little sister likes Dean forester she has to hide even hanging out with him but how will things turn out when they are dating if they do?

Y/n pov:

I have a lot of secrets I keep them to myself most of the time but one of them is that I like my guy best-friend his name was dean he was just so handsome and smart and really funny and fun there only one thing and that is my brother he dislike dean and dean dislikes my brother because of they're history with Rory which was my brother's girlfriend she is nice to me and has covered for me when I went to hangout with Dean and his friend's

*Putting on my sweater I took in my look in the mirror* I was wearing a black sweater with a black jean skirt and black tights with platform boots I also had some of my hair pinned back and I spray my perfume on me before grabbing my purse and walk downstairs and saw my brother on the couch talking about books with Rory on the phone*

"woah woah woah where are you going?"Jess asked "I am going to see a movie"I said "with who?"Jess asked with a protective attitude "Lindsey and marlin"I said "Just don't be out late"Jess said "I won't"I said *rolling my eyes I walked to the front door and open it before walking out to the porch and shut it behind me*

-------

*Arriving to the theaters I smiled as I saw dean,pal and Jacob standing there just talk among themselves and I walked up to them* "Hi guys"I said softly "Oh hey y/n"Pal and Jacob greeted me *I smiled as them and dean smile* "Hi y/n"He said softly Dean looked amazing tonight he was wearing a black t-shirt and a leather jacket and jeans and boots his hair was normal he just looked handsome

"Should we get the tickets?"Dean asked "come on we are waiting for our girls Lindsey and Marlin"Pal said "Alright let's wait"Dean said Lindsey and Marlin was the other guys girlfriends they we're sweet and nice towards me and treated me as if I was one of they're friends

*After the girls showed up dean and I payed for the tickets before we all entered the theater with everyone I sat down next to dean and he leaned in and whispered* "So who do you is going to leave first?"Dean asked *I laughed a tiny bit and whispered back* "Pal and Marlin for sure"I said *Dean chuckled and nodded* "Smart move"Dean said with a grin god he was perfect

------

*After the movies I waved to dean* "I am going to skip the diner tonight I need to get home before Jess throws a fit"I said "Alright uh call me when you get home so I can make sure you got home safely"Dean said "will do"I said with a smile

*getting home I told Jess goodnight and went up to my room and changed into my pajamas and dialed Dean's number and shut my door as I layed down on my bed waiting for him to answer*

"Hello"Dean said softly "Hey dean just wanted to let you know I made it home safely"I said "Good uh I had fun tonight"Dean said *I smiled* "Happy to hear that I did too"I said "well I guess I see you tomorrow in third period"Dean said "Sure will same spot every day"I said "great uh goodnight y/n"Dean said "Goodnight dean"I said

--------

*The next morning I picked out my outfit for the day and went to the bathroom to take a shower before getting out and grabbed my clothing and put them on and looked into the mirror and nodded* I was wearing a black band t-shirt with a black and white flannel and black jeans with combat boots *I quickly braided my hair before doing some makeup and I grabbed my bag before leaving the house*

*Getting to third period I sat in the back like normal and took out my books and I saw dean walk in as he sit down* "well good morning"Dean said "Good morning"I said "That movie was crazy last night right?"Dean asked "I was but they made the gore so good"I said "right"Dean said me and dean we're always into horror movies we been talking about all the good ones since we first met we got along so well and clicked in all the right ways

------

*Getting home I signal for Rory to talk to me and she followed me upstairs to my room as I shut my door and I watched as she sit on my bed and I stood by my dresser* "Okay so tell me everything"Rory said "I like him a lot I just don't know how to ask him out"I said "You could ask him on a date"Rory said "I don't have the confidence enough to do that"I said "Come on you got this"Rory said "Okay but how should I ask him?"I asked "well I read a lot of romance books where the guys ask the girls out on a note or something you can ask him that way"Rory said "wouldn't that be cheesy?"I asked "Cheesy but cute"Rory said "fine I will do it tomorrow in third period"I said "great but remember you can't let your brother find out"Rory said *I sighed* "yeah I know I just wish he wasn't a you know hot head sometimes"I said "I know but hey you got this"Rory said

------

*The next day I made my way into third period and sit down as did dean and he sat down next to me and I took out my things and me and dean chatted for the first few moments of class before the lesson begin I then tear off a piece of paper* If this whole thing doesn't worry I am going to curse Rory in my head for putting the idea in my head

*writing on the note I looked towards the teacher before throwing the note onto dean's desk as I felt my cheeks heat up*

*I looked over at dean as he read the note and he widen his eyes before grinning and took his pin and check one of the boxes before folding it and handing it back to me and I took it and open it*

'Yes' was checked on it *I smiled as I looked over at dean as he winked and then went back to paying attention to the teacher* Holy shit this was really happening I am going on a date with my crush

*After class dean pulled me towards him* "So when do you want to have this date?"Dean asked "I was thinking Friday night?"I asked "works for me"Dean said *I smiled* "Great then Friday night it is"I said

------

*It was finally Friday night I slipped on a white short dress and kept my hair down and straighten it before applying on my makeup and I put on the tenshoes* "you look amazing"Rory said as she held me get ready this wasn't exactly my style but I wanted to look perfect for tonight "Do you think he is going to like it?"I asked "He's going to love it"Rory said "Oh uh It's almost time so I am going to go meet him down the road"I said "Okay I keep Jess distracted go have fun and tell me everything when you get home"Rory said "for sure"I said

*Leaving the house I walked down the block before getting into dean's car* "Hey you"Dean said with a smile "Hi"I said "You look amazing tonight"Dean said "I can say the same about you"I said

*Dean pulled up into the parking lot of the art museum and he got out before going over to my side and open the door for me* "why thank you kind sir"I said playfully "No problem m'lady"Dean said with a joking tone *I laugh as I got out of the car and we walked up to the door and dean open it* "Lady's first"Dean said *I smiled* "what a gentlemen"I said *I walked in and dean followed behind me*

*I looked around and I smiled* "They're art is so perfect"I said "I know right you can tell alot about people with they're art"Dean said "well then tell me about this one"I said "this artist had a heart break that was huge and painted they're feelings on the canvas"Dean said *nodding impressed I smiled* "What about this one?"I asked *Dean laugh and he lead in* "well this artiest painted they're lust as you can see with the two shirtless men on the side and the women in the middle of the bed"Dean said *I widen my eyes and held back my laugh and then one caught my eye the most and I walked to it*

"This one"I said *dean smiled* "That one is when a girl has a crush on a guy but is to scared of rejection"Dean said *I looked up at dean as he looked down at me* "I guess you feel drawn to it?"Dean asked "A little bit'I said "But you weren't rejected"Dean said confused *I laugh softly* "It's not about rejection or dating it's just that every women go threw this alest once in they're lives"I said "well that does explain that"Dean said *I smiled* "We should head over to the restaurant"Dean said "For sure"I said with a smile

----

*After eating me and dean walked to the middle of town and he held me in his arms as we watched the stars laying on the grass* "You know everything about tonight feels like a dream"I said "It does and I love it I want to take you on more dates in the future if that's alright pretty girl"Dean said "I am totally fine with it"I said with a blush

----

that was just one of many dates I was falling head over heels I love with Dean anyone could read that from my face but I still took caution when it was around my brother

*Leaving third period dean took my hand and dragged me to a empty classroom* "hey"he said "Hi"I said *with that he lead down and kissed me* It felt like we we're together but we never really asked for labels

----

*Later that night dean sneaked threw my bedroom window I smiled and laugh and quickly locked the door and walked over to dean* "what are you doing here?"I asked "Just wanted to see you what else?"Dean asked *I smiled as he leaned over and kissed me as I kissed him back and he slowly pulled away and walked over to my chair and sit down* "I've been thinking alot and I was wondering if you wanted to make things official"Dean said *I smiled* "I would love too"I said *Dean smiled and got up before making his way to me and kissed me* "great then you are mine my girlfriend"Dean said "Your girlfriend"I said *Dean smiled before leaning down and kissed me once again*

that's all I am thinking about making a part two for this if you want to see that just let me know and I will gladly make it :)

[mykoreanlove]

from one leader to another

some skz x bts siblings x flirty fluff - @kayleefriedchicken hope u like it :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You roamed the city aimlessly, desperately trying to find the perfect present for your younger brother’s birthday. 

„Fuck, fuck, fuck“, you muttered under your breath as you noticed the time. 

One hour left.

You had exactly one hour to find the right gift or else everybody at his party would judge you as the worst sister of the century. You didn’t forget about his present, in fact you put a lot of thought into it but what do you get someone that already has everything? Why was this so hard for you? 

Your inner pity monologue got interrupted as your phone rang.

„Channie“, you greeted him, hoping he wouldn’t notice your dismay.

„You sound stressed. You good?“

Damn it. His little brother senses always tingled when you were in a crappy mood.

„Promise you won’t hate me?“

His laughter filled the line.

„What’s wrong?“

„I’m going crazy because of your stupid birthday present!“, you whined in annoyance.

„Y/N, my birthday party starts in an hour and you still have no present? Damn, do you hate me?“, he chuckled amused.

„Stop making fun of me and help me instead?“

„Help you how?“

„Oh, I don’t know - maybe actually tell me what you want?“

Chan laughed again.

„I did tell you!“

You sighed in exasperation.

„The fuck you did! Every time I ask you what I can get you, you tell me shit like „I just want you to be healthy and happy. Oh, and find a boyfriend already and get married and have kids, so mom won’t pester me about it“. Not helpful, Chan!“, you mocked him.

He burst out laughing, which pissed you off even more.

„I’m sure you’ll figure it out, y/nnie. I’m going to hang up, the boys are already here. See you in an hour.“

You angrily massaged your temples, not knowing what to do. Minutes after you hung up, Chan sent you a text - a picture of him with various presents from his friends, smiling giddily into the camera.

„That little shit“, you muttered under your breath.

Just you wait - I’ll figure this out!

 You had to be strategic about it - most of the shops were about to close anyway, so which one would you go to?

The ones with clothing? You shook your head as you recalled how much clothes he already had not only at his place but also yours.

The ones with books? Nah, that boy rarely reads, you argued with yourself.

Come on, think y/n. You can do this.

„Oh“, you jumped excitedly, as you had finally figured it out.

You walked straight to the biggest fragrance shop you could find, wandering in front of the men’s aisle.

„Whoa, those are a lot“, you noticed. 

The shelves were filled with various flacons - colorful or bland, minimalistic or eccentric, cheap or ridiculously expensive.

„Fuck, how am I supposed to find the right one before the shop closes?“

As your eyes scanned the shelves you noticed two teenage girls next to you, giggling and whispering about some guy close to you.

„He is so hot, oh my god“, one of them whispered.

„I know and he smells soooo good“, the other one agreed.

You cautiously turned your head, curious about the guy they were talking about. 

„Damn“, you whispered under your breath.

He was good looking! He was tall and built like a greek god, muscular yet lean. His dark long hair suited his handsome face perfectly, adding to his chic yet urban style. You didn’t notice yourself wander closer to him, as you were too engulfed analyzing his features. You chuckled as you noticed his hair fall into his brown eyes, he clumsily pushed the strands away from his face but they fell back every time. He had a sharp gaze, observing the perfumes in front of him with precision. 

„I bet he’s hella smarted“, you mumbled silently.

Finally, you were standing right next to him. You closed your eyes, as you took him all in, his presence was mesmerizing. Shit, those girls were right. He smells amazing, you thought to yourself, lost in your mind altogether. 

The stranger turned around with wide eyes, asking you bluntly: „Did you just smell me?“

You opened your eyes abruptly, embarrassed to the core. 

„I, uh, ha, yeah, so, funny story“, you rambled shyly. 

He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and faced you, a sly smile on his lips.

„I’m listening.“

You cursed yourself internally but decided to spill the truth.

„You see I am here because I need a gift. Not any gift but THE gift. And I was standing over there overlooking all these perfumes as I heard some teenagers giggle and gush about you.“

He averted his gaze to the right and looked at the two girls behind you who turned around abruptly, hiding their faces.

„Go on“, he mumbled as he looked at you again. „So, yeah, they were saying how good you smelled and since I need that perfect gift I thought I would find out for myself.“

He leaned his head to the side as he was listening to you ramble.

„And you thought smelling me, a mere stranger, was the best way to go about it?“

„In hindsight? No. But I am desperate, so cut me some slack. Please.“

He let out a deep sigh and uncrossed his arms, picking up the perfume he was wearing and handing it over to you.

„That’s the one“, he pointed out.

You observed the package, it looked hella expensive but it did smell divine. 

„Thank you“, you whispered. 

„Do you need it for your boyfriend?“

You laughed out loud, not realizing that he was serious about it.

„No. I don’t have a boyfriend. This one is for my brother.“

„Ah“, he nodded. 

Now, that the shock was gone, you noticed the stranger’s voice - deep and raspy, a melodic sound you would have loved to listen to for longer. Sadness formed in your gut as he turned around, ending this conversation now that you had what you wanted.

„Hey, wait.“

He turned around again, looking at you expectantly. Damn, why did he have to be so handsome? Okay, focus, Y/N, focus.

„I kinda feel like owning you an apology for sniffing you, so uhm, sorry…?“

„Joon“, he replied.

„Joon?“

„Yeah, actually Namjoon but you can call me Joon.“

Gosh, his name is just as pretty as he is.

„And whom does the sniffing nose belong to?“

„Y/N“, you stretched out your hand, waiting for him to shake it.

Namjoon smiled warmly as he shook your delicate hand. 

„Nice to meet you, Y/N.“

Nice to meet you, too, Joon. 

His presence made you feel warm, and comfortable. 

„So, when’s the party?“

You took a glance at your wrist, cursing yourself for arriving late.

„Started 30 minutes ago“, you confessed.

„So what, you forgot about the present?“

„No“, you exclaimed agitated.

„I just.. It’s hard to shop for him, that’s all.“

„So, you were looking for the perfect gift, is that it?“

You nodded, not entirely convinced that a perfume would be it but you were left with no options.

„What about you? Shopping for yourself?“

„Yeah, I was kinda looking for the next perfume that you would sniff on me, actually“, he mused jokingly.

Wait, what was he saying?

„Wouldn’t your girlfriend be mad about that?“

Clearly, someone like him had to be taken already. Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise - were you that oblivious?

„I don’t have one. So sniff me all you want“, he smiled sneakily.

You looked down, cheeks rosy and shy from this playful banter.

„Excuse me but we are closing the shop right now. Please buy something or leave, thank you“, the store clerk interrupted the two of you.

„Oh sure, sorry!“, you marched to the front, paying for the ridiculously expensive perfume while Namjoon was following you. You stood outside the store for a while, getting to know each other and flirting candidly. 

You learned that he was an artist, who worked with his hands a lot. He loved to read and rhyme on his own, often hanging out at public libraries and hidden bookstores. You bit your lip as you were right about him, he was a smart one.

Smart. Handsome. Funny. And into me. What were the odds?

„Do you think your brother will like the perfume?“

You shrugged your shoulders, not really sure if that was the best gift after all. You recalled his words in your mind „be happy and healthy and get a boyfriend“…

Suddenly, a new idea flooded your consciousness.

„Hey Joon?“, you asked out of the blue.

„Hm?“

„What are you doing tonight?“

„Nothing, actually. I’m free like a bird“, he cheered warmly. 

Jackpot.

„Wanna come with me? Be my date for tonight?“

[tiramisuucakeee]

3. THE AMAZING JUNGWON

( sunflower, yang jungwon )

all day, jungwon had been spinning through your thoughts like a spider weaving its web. there was something about him that made it impossible to forget, and you were certain it wasn’t just guilt from his injury yesterday.

during lunch, your eyes met across the cafeteria, and he flashed you a small smile and a wave, only to be playfully nudged by his friend, who teased him. which could mean absolutely nothing, but could it actually?

what if it didn’t mean nothing. what if it was destiny that he had saved you from getting hit at practice. maybe it was the universe’s way of telling you something.

yet, he didn’t actually seem interested in you. giselle and winter were convinced he had feelings, arguing that no one jumps into harm's way for someone they hardly know. those thoughts swirled in your mind, and it was becoming overwhelming.

“damn it,” you muttered, frustrated, as you accidentally hit the 'delete' key instead of 'enter' on your history homework, losing an entire paragraph.

you stared at the meaningless virtual page, reading over the words to remember what you were writing. “and he led them to war to bring honor to his country, yang jungwon bravely- huh?" you stopped yourself, noticing his name in your work.

with a sigh, you clicked the ‘delete’ button on every instance of his name, replacing it with something else. "this can't be happening," you groaned, falling back into your chair.

deciding on getting some fresh air, you stood up, walking over to your window, sliding it open to reveal the cold night air. the dark sky seemed to be covered in freckles of stars, twinkling brightly.

suddenly, a face appeared right in front of you, dangling from the edge of the building.

"ah!" you screamed, stumbling back in shock, only to recognize the familiar grin. "oh my god! don't scare me like that, mr. spider-man!" you laughed, breathless.

he tilted his head to the right, still hanging upside down outside your window. "i didn’t think you were someone who gets scared easily," he remarked, gripping his web tightly while wincing slightly at his ankle, which was healing fast.

“i guess i am when a superhero pops out of nowhere outside my window,” you stood up, dusting your white top and sweatpants off.

he hummed, observing you crossing your arms. “are you going to hang upside down forever or are you going to come in?” you asked.

he nodded, already feeling a bit dizzy, and flipped himself into your room, landing gracefully on his feet. spider-man took a moment to survey your space, this was the first time yang jungwon had been inside a girl's room that wasn’t his aunt’s.

yours was just like how he pictured it, messy bed, lots of perfumes and makeup, pompom’s and cheer jacket handing behind your door, a fluffy mat and cute plushies.

“what? never been inside a girl’s room before?” you laughed at his demeanor, as he observed everything.

“what gave it away?” spider-man replied, stepping dangerously closer, his presence slightly towering over you.

“everything,” you grinned, poking his arm playfully. “you want something to eat? drink?” you offered the hero, who squinted his spider eyes at you. “won’t your parents be mad at you having spider-man over and offering him your food?” he asked.

“if i don’t do it, they’d probably offer you themselves if they weren’t out,” you shot back, noticing the confusion on his masked face. “it’s their anniversary. while some are out celebrating, others are stuck finishing history homework…” you gestured toward your computer, prompting him to lean in for a better look.

“huh, i didn’t know this guy, yang jungwon led people into battle,” spider-man read over your last paragraph, making you widen your eyes at his words. “wait! stop reading! no!” you exclaimed, sprinting to the computer to shut it off while he laughed, casually jumping onto your bed.

“you got a crush on this guy?” he asked, propping himself up on his arms.

you turned to him, feigning annoyance. “no, he’s just someone from school who saved me from getting hit by a football yesterday,” you explained. then, a lightbulb went off in your head. “wait! you work for stark! you should know him! he has an internship with tony!” you lit up, jumping to stand up closer to him, curious.

“what was his name again?” jungwon asked indifferently, hoping not to blow his cover.

“yang jungwon, he’s about this tall,” you stretched your arm abover your head, stopping some inches above your head. “he’s really smart, at least from what i’ve heard.”

“oh yeah, i know the kid,” spider-man recalled. “he’s super nice and handsome, he’s also very smart like you said, always has answers for everything, he’s also really strong and single, just so you know-“

“you seem to know him well,” you told spider-man, who kept rambling about jungwon like there was no tomorrow.

“well, stark thinks he’s great so... if you like him, i say you should go for it,” he shrugged, blushing underneath his mask, not knowing where he got all this confidence from.

“like him? absolutely no, i barely know the guy,” you snorted, motioning for him to follow you out the room. the hero complied, walking behind you to the kitchen of the gigantic l/n penthouse.

“anyway, what are you even doing here?” you asked him, opening the big fridge to take out some chocolate chip cookies and milk, then heading over to the cabinet near and taking out some cups and a plate.

“i came to see how you were doing, you seem well,” said spider-man sitting on a tall chair on the kitchen island.

“you’re really wasting your precious hero time to visit a random girl you saved?” you opened the pack of cookies, placing them in the plate, and started to pour some milk in each glass, sliding one over to him.

he looked at the glass as if it were a ticking bomb. “uh, thanks,” he said, glancing between you and the milk.

spider-man stared at it with fright, until you spoke again. “i can give you a straw if you want, but you will have to pull up your mask just a bit if you wanna eat,” you told him, seeing as if he was afraid to reveal at least a speck of his face.

“no, i’m okay, i’ll just-" he raised a bit of his mask up, revealing his slightly pale skin, and drank some milk, careful to only hold up the mask to his lips. he knew that if he were anyone else, he wouldn’t even do this, but jungwon knew you in person, and he trusted himself around you.

“you really are careful,” you sighed. “if i was spider-man, firstly, my suit would be white, and secondly, i’d tell half the world who i am and let them spread the news to the other half,” you laughed, popping a cookie into your mouth.

“i think you’d be a great spider-woman,” he said, taking a cookie too. something about jungwon is that he absolutely loves girlscout cookies. “apart from the fact that you couldn’t keep your identity a secret, and that your suit would easily get dirty, they would love you.”

“they?”

“the avengers, they would really like you, specially captain america, you talk like him-" he started.

“ugh, don’t even, i have probably seen him more than my own family, my school keeps playing these stupid psa videos,” you groaned.

“oh, those? yeah, they’re pretty annoying. i hate them,” spider-man agreed, rolling his eyes.

“you go to school near then,” you teased.

“what?! how’d you know?! i mean, i’m a grown man- i already graduated college and stuff!” he quickly corrected, a hint of panic in his voice, trying to make it sound deeper.

you laughed, enjoying the playful banter. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, mr. spider-man.”

TAGS: @jiiyen

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