#and they have to hire another PT person anyways so why not let me take what they would get??? fucking demented

[lobotomy-lady]

I wrote out an entire dissertation length rant but I'm actually deleting it & just leaving a gif that captures the energy of my current predicament in far less words

[trash-king18]

M pt. 2

warning y’all now this is gonna have a lot of parts and they’re all long, sorry. but i put more time and effort into this than i care to admit so i might as well see if it’s enjoyed by others. 

cw: 18+ minors dni, talk of injections/needles, angst, arguing, both reader and miguel have attitude for days, hints of family trauma, oral f receiving, m masturbation

4004 words

————

you had planned on staying to work overnight just to spite him but about 20 minutes into the prep work the adrenaline wore off and your eyelids started drooping. so you put the venom vials in the fridge and headed back to your apartment. 

the other reason you two had an odd connection is because unlike all the spider people; who went back to their own universes between jobs, you lived in Nueva York pretty much full time. besides the occasional vacation to explore other earths and some weekends spent with your sister and her kids, it was just you, lyla, and Miguel. 

Gwen Hobie and Pavitr always asked why you chose to stay here with “the grump”. they were good kids, and even though you weren’t a doctor they frequented your lab for “checkups.” you always told them the same thing, “better tech here,” it was easier than explaining the real reason. 

you enjoyed seeing your sister and your beloved little nephews when you could, but there wasn’t much keeping you back on your earth.

your spider man wasn’t able to protect your earth anymore, so you felt it was your personal mission to help however you could. miguel didn’t know it, but your spider man had been your brother. he ended up marrying a girl from your neighborhood who you quickly came to admire as a sister and they had two boys before.. the incident. when another spider-man showed up with a watch and the sweetest AI you’d ever met asking for your help for her boss, you jumped at the opportunity. anything to get you out of there. 

—

you hadn’t seen Miguel at all that day. from what you overheard in the food courts there was some important mission, that as per usual he divulged to no one. you asked Lyla to notify you as soon as he returned, sometimes you felt you and her were the ones really holding the multiverse together. Miguel may have done the heavy lifting, but Lyla kept him organized and you kept him from breaking everything in the building when he got mad. 

Lyla popped up on your watch at about 8:30 that night to let you know when he arrived. an inconvenience considering you were comfortably on your couch in an oversized hoodie. 

“he’s back, but I’m not sure you want to talk to him right now. 

“that usually means i definitely have to “talk” to him. i’ll head over with his injection now. Is he at HQ? 

“uhm… I’m not- 

“he’s either on a mission, or in his office.. brooding. he’s really quite predictable. 

“he’s not at HQ he went straight home this time. 

Oh great, now you’ll have to go over to his apartment 

“ugh of course he did” 

“maybe it’d be best if you just wait until tomorrow morning.” 

“no no he needs an infusion, it’s been almost two  weeks now and his symptoms are already worse than we’ve seen in a while.” 

“just be careful, you know how he gets.” 

“believe me Lyla I know, but I specialize in calming down the infamous grump, literally it’s what you hired me for” 

“let me know how it goes?” 

“of course” 

you pull on your jordan’s and head up to the lab quickly to grab his treatment before heading to his apartment. you’d never been there, you didn’t even know where it was, but Lyla sent you the address. you were expecting a lifeless bachelor pad downtown so you were confused when you found yourself outside the door of a top floor penthouse suite. you knew he had a house… somewhere from a long time ago but you weren’t surprised he didn’t want to live there. besides this was much closer. 

you take a deep breath fully expecting him to not even answer or slam the door in your face but you knock anyway. 

you wait, and of course there’s so answer, you start to turn around to leave when you hear the lock click. 

when he opens the door you do not expect what comes next. the self serious super hero, who you’ve never seen out of his suit, is wearing loose gray sweats a skin tight black tee and his hair is wet and slicked back clearly fresh from the shower. you swallow hard. 

the confusion on his face quickly turns to anger. 

“what the hell are you doing here?”

“Lyla uhm.. sent me the address. you were gone all day so I didn’t get a chance to do you your treatment today.” 

he huffs as he shakes his head causing some of his hair to fall into his face

“fine just give it to me I’ll do it” 

“not a chance, i don’t trust that you actually will 

he stands, taking up the whole doorway. 

“nice hoodie” 

you had completely forgotten you were still wearing your spider-man hoodie. It was some corny spider merch you had snagged from a gift shop right before moving to this earth. It was stupid but it reminded you of your brother and you always wore it when you were upset. Suddenly self conscious you felt even smaller than normal standing in front of him. 

“oh I uh-“ 

He smiles evilly at your apparent embarrassment, you were usually so put together and would never let him make fun of you. So he decided to relish in this moment. 

“you should wear that to work, then you can be just like the rest of us” 

you scowl at him

“will you just let me do this so I can go home” 

he stops smiling 

“we’ll do it tomorrow” 

he starts to close the door in your face but you’re tired, you’ve had a long week and most importantly you know he can’t go much longer without the infusion before something bad happens. 

so before he can close it you push your way past him ducking under his arm into his apartment. his guard is either down or he was too surprised youd even dare to do so because it would’ve been too easy to stop you if he wanted to. 

“no, no, he tenido suficiente de ti, estamos haciendo esto ahora.”

no no i’m tired of you we’re doing this now

“H- Hey! you can’t just—“

you pause in shock as you look around and see a tediously organized apartment filled with plants, that smelled of home cooked meals, and surprisingly zero holes punched in the walls. 

he grabs your arm to start pulling you out but you move before he can. no spidey sense meant you actually could catch him by surprise if you were quick enough. 

“ay carajo o’hará this place is nice i’m shocked. are you making tamales? i wouldn’t have taken you for a chef.”

he just stares at you incredulously and watches you walk over and pick one up and start eating

“and a good cook too, your mother would be proud” 

“you’re.. in my apartment” 

“yes? clearly. sit down let’s get this over with” 

“so you barge into my apartment uninvited and now you’re telling me what to do?” 

“i mean really, you’re just stating the obvious, now can you please hurry up? i’m not putting up with your nonsense again today.” 

you put the case on the counter and take the IV out and start getting it ready. you can tell he doesn’t like this at all and you’re not necessarily a fan either. it’s weird seeing him like this… human, almost. 

“sit.” 

finally he gives in, figures the sooner it’s done the sooner he can get you out of his apartment. unfortunately you’re not in the lab which means you have to set up a portable pole but getting it high enough for him even when he’s sitting is difficult. 

“can you.. uhm” 

“seriously? ay dios mío” 

he adjusts the height and then hangs the bag before sitting back down. you pull your gloves on before you start trying to find the vain. he leans back against the counter, your eyes dart up every so often as you insert the needle and start the drip. He watches you work, fascinated by how you manage to boss him around. 

once the infusion starts it usually takes at least an hour or two to finish, but in no world do you want to wait in Miguel’s apartment with him for hours. 

you clear your throat uncomfortably and start to head for the door 

“I trust you can handle the rest, do NOT take it out until it’s done o’hara i’m serious” 

he only grunts in response. you turn before you open the door he’s leaning over the counter rubbing his temple. you’re about to leave, you know you should. you curse yourself internally for what you’re about to do. 

“o’hara?”

“hmm?” he doesn’t open his eyes 

“are you ok?” 

he opens his eyes and looks at you caught off guard by the genuine concern in your voice. 

“estoy bien” 

im fine

“ok” you start to open the door but stop yourself again “it’s just— you haven’t gone this long without  a treatment and last night..” 

you trail off and he peers at you with that animal curiosity like he’s scanning every inch of your body for any movement, any sign of weakness

“last night you just seemed a little uh” 

“a little ~what~” 

you don’t feel like pushing the subject with him and you’re tired.

“nothing, forget i asked” 

his eyes are closed again but he sighs and asks suddenly ,

“tienes hambre?”

are you hungry 

“are you ~inviting~ me to eat.. in your apartment?” 

he shoots you a look that says not to push your luck, but all he says is “plates are left of the sink.” before closing his eyes again. you can’t lie the first one you had was good, you wouldn’t mind another. you notice that he has the ingredients out for fresh guacamole including a molcajete. he doesnt seem much in the mood for cooking so you start chopping up the ingredients yourself. 

“don’t do that” 

“why you’re clearly not in any shape to be cooking” 

“i made the tamales just fine didn’t i?” 

“whatever” 

“seriously don’t mess with my recipe” 

“relax my mamá taught me how to make the best guacamole in brooklyn heights” 

he gets up, “well my abuelitas recipe was the best in all of mexico, so i think i’ll do the cooking” 

“are you disrespecting my mamas cooking?” 

“oh no no no, no empieces, you started this” 

don’t start

he grabs you essentially picking you up and moves you over. you’d never seen him like this, not necessarily no guard but more relaxed, less of a grump just tired and overworked. he was only a few years older than you but you always forgot. 

he finished chopping and starts putting it together. his knife skills are impressive. 

“do you do this every night” 

“ahh no, much to busy for that but i try to do it as often as i can” 

“can’t blame you, must be better than the food court at HQ” 

“don’t tell me that’s all you eat” 

“god no, but between working with Lyla, your treatments, and my family it can get difficult to find time for myself.”

he’s quite for a moment “family?” 

“oh uhm yeah i uh try to see my sister in law and her kids as often as possible, she’s raising them on her own now so I help out when i can” 

“their father? your brother?” 

now it was your turn to be quiet. you don’t know why you started talking about it, you never do, even with your sister. this was your first time even bringing it up to someone else in years. you didn’t realize your eyes were wet. when you don’t answer he turns. 

he puts the knife down when he notices you’re upset 

“sorry i didn’t mean to-“ 

“no it’s fine, i uh- i should go, thanks for the food” 

“y/n” 

“make sure you leave that in, i’ll see you at work tomorrow” 

“y/n” he shoots a web onto the door handle before you can open it

he walks over to you, not as stealthy as normal with the iv pole dragging behind him

“o’hara i’m not in the mood for this right now”

he reaches past you to lock the door behind you. 

“i’m serious”

“you’re upset.”

“hadn’t noticed.”

“ya know when i’m trying to be nice it would help greatly if you didn’t have to have such an attitude.” 

you look at him unimpressed

“im latina, what do you want” 

“the truth”

“about what?”

“why you’ve been extra grouchy this week”

“i am not-“

“yes. you are”

“i don’t owe you any explanation.”

he does that things were he growls just slightly except from him it actually does sound more like a growl. you two have been stepping closer and closer as the argument gets more heated. his accent comes out even more when he’s angry 

“ay coño must you be so infuriating all the fucking time”

“excuse me?”

you’re face to face now… well more face to chest. 

“you heard me cariño”

honey

“don’t call me that��

“why.. would you prefer bonita, princesa” 

he’s teasing you, pressing your buttons, but it was pissing you off extra right now

you shove him back, or at least try 

knock it off miguel 

there it was. they way you said his name. he catches your hand and holds it in place on his chest 

“say it again”

“what?”

“my name, dilo otra vez”

say it again.

his grip on your wrist is firm, he towers over you. 

“what is wrong with you”

his voice is low now, it comes out coated in venom and something else 

“don’t make me repeat myself again cariño”

he leans down into you his hand hovers over your hip, waiting. you know this behavior is most likely because of him going so long without treatment. and even though he’s bigger and stronger you can’t help feel like you’re taking advantage of him. 

“miguel”

after hearing his name he slides his hand onto you and starts pulling you in

“no. stop this isn’t you i can’t let you do this.”

but he doesn’t let go he just dips his head down toward your ear, his breathing is heavy and he’s hot, physically more so than usual. 

“do you want me to(stop)”

you hesitate, but he’s so close and you feel like he’s been teasing you since last night pulling you in then pulling away. 

“yes.”

“you’re lying.”

“..yes.” 

his control is slipping he can feel it, even with the iv slowly working its way through his blood. but you’re here in front of him and you can’t even tell him you don’t want it. 

he pulls away again and right before you can tell him off you realize why. 

he’s carefully pulling the needle from his arm. 

“o’hara no.”

but he takes it out anyway and then turns back to you as the needle drops to the ground. he walks you back into the door and places his hand on your hip again as the other works it’s way to your face. 

“Miguel you need th-“

he shushes you. every time you say his name like that, so soft and quiet, it goes straight down to his core. he tries to ignore it usually, the way that it ignites the urge to hear you whine and moan as you say it. the injections make it easier, so did convincing himself that he only felt that way because of the spider dna. but the human in him wanted you just as much if not more. 

his thumb drags gently over your bottom lip. his scarlet eyes drag over you slowly. 

he feels every twitch and pulse as your body responds to him. 

neither of you speak as he leans in. you pray despite yourself he doesn’t pull away this time. his lips hover over yours for a moment before he gently tugs your lips with his teeth. his fangs don’t cut you but you can feel them pressing into your skin. 

you’re impatient, you’ve done this dance twice now. so you lean in to kiss him but he doesn’t let you. he wants to take his time. for both your sakes. 

he brushes your lips again with his torturing your skin with light touches. his hand holds your face to his while the other keeps you pressed up against him. 

and finally 

finally he kisses you. it’s gentle. he breathes you in as he does it knowing that he won’t be able to remain restrained much longer. 

he pulls back a half an inch your eyes both still closed just breathing in sync before he moves back in capturing your lips in another kiss. this one starts gentle but slowly he increased the pressure. trying to get closer to you somehow. you kiss back, your tongue darting out slightly to feel his fangs. a risky move but you couldn’t help it, although clearly it affects him because as you do he reaches around you and effortlessly picks you up caging you against him as your legs wrap around his waist. 

his kisses start to grow more rushed, his hands grab for flesh where he holds you. he walks you to the counter like you weigh nothing and sets you down keeping himself between your legs. you feel him begin to strain against his sweatpants. you reach down and rub against it with your palm making him hiss. his breathing grows ragged. 

when he speaks his voice is husky 

“ay fuck”

he drops his head into your shoulder but his claws start to dig into the counter top. you have no idea how much this affects him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you so he holds back but you’re making that increasingly hard. 

he grabs your hands and places them both on his shoulders and tries to catch his breath while he gently sucks the flesh on your neck and below your ear, but he doesn’t leave a mark. his hands move to hold your waist under the sweatshirt and his warm hands on your skin feel fantastic 

“Migue.. 

(fuck)

Miguel”

(fuck)

he answers between kisses 

“qué es cariño”

what is it honey

“stop holding back”

“no puedo, i won’t risk it”

i can’t 

“por qué”

why

“i could hurt you”

“you won’t” 

you can feel how badly he wants to let go and you’re determined to get him to. you lean back on the counter pulling him with you. he pulls against you but you hold him tightly and he can’t resist you. you start to pull your sweatshirt up slightly hoping he’ll get the message. he pulls up to kiss you again clearly struggling with the decision for a second but ultimately his lust wins out. he pushes it up further kissing down your stomach. you feel his fangs pushing against his lips but he does his best to keep them from cutting you. your hands still rest on his shoulders as he works his way down. but the closer he gets the harder it is for him to control himself. he looks up at you with heavily lidded eyes as he reaches the band of your shorts. you just nod. 

he takes a deep breath trying to steel his nerves but he knows if he continues there’s no way back. but he wants it he wants you consequences be damned. 

his claws rake against your skin gently as he begins to pull them off causing you to shiver and your back to arch into his touch. it just eggs him on. 

he stares at your open legs in awe before pressing his nose to you. you wait for him to start but he just grabs your hips pressing you deeper into him. he holds you there like a fiend breathing you in and he finally looks up at you and his eyes are different now. there’s a different depth to the hunger within them. he’s never looked more serious. he’s drunk on you and he knows you know it. he lowers his head again swipes all the way from your folds to the bud collecting all the slick and swirling it around before moving back down. his tongue pushes in trying to get as much of you as possible. his bare fangs press into your skin and the feeling sends waves of adrenaline through you. his hands grip you harder nails digging into your skin as your hand tangled into his damp hair. your breath came out in ragged moans and soft curses as he pressed his nose to your clit. he mumbled muffled praises into your skin that you couldn’t understand. he worked you up to the edge multiple times before pulling back just to hear you whine for him. 

now your legs were trembling and you were praying for relief. his eyes were blood red and full of greed. 

“ruegame”

beg me

“miguel miguel please” 

“oh cariño, no te preocupes i’ll take care of it” 

your nails dig into his shoulders as he slowly and torturously works you to finish. he doesn’t pull back when he’s done either he stays and relishes in the mess he’s made. he eats until he’s full and then presses a nice red mark into your inner thigh with his fangs for good measure. he stands and pulls you up so you’re sitting again. your breathing is both quick and ragged. you looked down and noticed that he must have been using his other hand to relieve himself. 

a shame 

when your breathing slows you realize hes leaning into you with his arms on either side. but something seems off,

“miguel..”

his eyes are closed and he seems to be swaying slightly

“miguel hey look at me”

he blinks hard trying to hold his balance before slumping into you

“shit o’hará don’t do this to me now”

you push him up and rush to pull both your clothes back into place before hastily ushering him to couch. he practically collapses. 

you run to grab the iv and a clean needle and bring it over to him. he doesn’t open his eyes or respond when you place it in. you’d seen this before, when he’d missed infusion treatments for too long and then overextended himself. he’d be fine but it definitely wasn’t ideal. 

mostly he just needed to sleep it off, so that’s what you let him do. it was almost 11 now, he was out cold. you couldn’t move him to bed and you were just waiting for the drip to finish. so there was nothing left for you to do unless you wanted to spend the night on his living room chair.

so you left him a note on the coffee table. 

My lab, first thing tomorrow. I need to do a physical and run a blood test to make sure the infusion wasn’t messed up. 

you weren’t sure if you should write anything else so you decided to leave it short and simple and figured you could talk about everything tomorrow. 

when you got to work Lyla popped up next to you. 

“so? How’d last night go?” 

Huh?… oh uhm fine yeah he was being… difficult as always so I’m gonna do a quick check up. can you make sure he comes to my lab as soon as he gets here. 

“oh.. he’s not gonna be in for a while he left for a solo mission early this morning.”

“ugh of course he did. well do you know when he’ll be back. 

“not sure sweets, he went dark but i’ll let you know as soon as i get in touch with him ok?”

“yeah yeah that’d be great”

“you sure everything’s alright hon?” 

“yeah lyla i’m good thanks, i’m gonna get to work.” 

[jjungkookislife]

Fic Recs 2020 Pt. 1

Seokjin

let’s get married [SMAU] @hangsangwithbts

Summary: seokjin has no intention of getting married, but after facing tremendous pressure from his family to finally settle down, he comes up with the brilliant idea to fake a marriage. the lucky bride just so happens to be you.

voice mail @joonary

summary: kim seokjin is best known around campus for his romance advisory podcast, voice mail, but to you, he’s just your lovable idiot of a best friend. but when he accidentally lets it slip that he’s fallen for one of your fellow peers, you can’t help but be a little bit curious (and quite frankly, a tad bit jealous).

Yoongi

cheers if you agree @out-of-jams

summary: If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know who you were or even how to get into contact with you, Yoongi wouldn’t be posting all over Weverse for anyone to see. Not that he thought anyone would be smart enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together with how many people responded to his posts anyway.

snake kisses @peekaboongi

summary: You are grossly unprepared for the snake hybrid that enters your life. Yoongi is quiet and sneaks around you but eventually, even the cold reptile warms up to you.

under construction [SMAU] @luffles424

summary: In which y/n is just trying to figure out what to do with her life with the help from her (un)helpful friends

Hoseok

going once, going twice, sold @bxebxee

summary: But the real reason anything at all started with Hoseok was something much simpler, and probably wholly unexpected - not that you ever planned on any of the other members of the MBA Society to find out.You leave your unlocked phone in his car before stumbling your way into your tiny, studio apartment. And he sees a twitter notification asking you for further discount on your panties.That is all it takes.

just practice @lamourche

summary: The second time you hook up with Jung Hoseok, he doesn’t remember the first time.  You’re surprised.  It was only a few weeks ago, and you were in a broom closet. That has to be different, right? (Well, not really, you’ll learn.)

game over @9uk

summary: your boyfriend has been gaming all day without paying much attention to you. that is until his friends on discord brings up the moaning noises in the background.

you’re my kryptonite @dovechim

summary: Superheroes are immortal, they are everything we are not. The Krypton are a race of superhumans sent down to Earth to protect humans, and they are the epitome of nobility and protection. You have always believed in their immortal, God-like powers, revered and admired them your entire life. Your wish for your very own superhero is granted when you meet Jung Hoseok, a Krypton with the most unique, powerful abilities you’ve ever seen.

Namjoon

first, do no harm @yandere-society

summary: Dr. Kim is well known as the most skilled heart surgeon in the hospital, but when you notice his mortality statistics seem skewered, you discover all is not what it seems. Now, Dr. Kim is offering you a choice: will you join him? Or become yet another broken heart beneath his scalpel?

internet friends [SMAU] @bts-celestials​

summary: meeting through online, namjoon slowly starts to fall for the person who likes all the things he’s into. maybe having friends online is fun.

Jimin

reset @dovechim

summary: We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

paparazzi (tw: flash banner) @chinkbihh​

summary: What if the roles were reversed and it was Jimin who was the fan and you who was the idol?  But what if he wasn’t just a casual fan, but an avid fan?  Maybe even a sasaeng…  

Taehyung

the morning after @softlyjiminie

summary: one night, full of passion, whispered promises and heated kisses. one morning, full of regret and unwanted memories. is a night with your ex enough to send you running back into the arms of the devil?

fake love @mygsii

summary: an arranged marriage between you and taehyung leaves behind feelings of bitterness and hatred. will your heart be able to survive, especially when you’ve loved him all your life, or will it fall apart with this marriage?

cheap skate @gukslut

summary: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

baby i @jiminsfault

summary: a one night stand with a stranger leads to so much more than just great sex

Jungkook

only for love [SMAU] @lysjeon

summary: for almost four years it had been just him and sarang, and he had no plans on changing the life they had become accustomed to any time soon, but of course y/n has to come and shake his world.

one time in your room @ubemango

summary: There are papers to write, and virgins to daydream about. (You can think about Jeongguk’s dick later.)

piss off your parents @littlemisskookie

summary: In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm.

departure @nomnomsik

summary: As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

curiosity @hobidreams

summary: when innocent jungkook comes to you with a not-so-innocent question… you decide it’s easier to just demonstrate.

inkling @gguksgalaxy

summary: Jungkook is your brother’s boyfriend’s co-worker, they own a tattoo and piercing parlour. In other words, he’s tall, gorgeous, has his passion literally etched into his skin, looks incredibly good in a man-bun, and is semi-unattainable for you. Why? Well…you’re not entirely sure but him ditching right after a very heated make-out session sure isn’t a good sign. His extremely poor mood the next week sure isn’t either, but the only way to fix it is to face the beast head-on. Right?

j’aime @baepop

summary: You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

pop goes the cherry @1oserjk

summary: jungkook comes back home to find you visiting as well, all grown up — in more ways than one.

skirt chasers @1kook

summary: “Baggy clothes are in, but you wouldn’t know that, Miss I Draw Inspiration From Catholic School Girls.”

kiss it better @jincherie

summary: When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

pay by play @yoonia

camboy!au

deeply poisoned @xmagicxshopx

summary: Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us. Deeply poisoned by the jail of you. I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway.

speeding ticket @minstrophywife

summary: Caught speeding to get home in time, you find yourself pulled over by a very delicious cop. Perhaps you can talk your way out of the ticket.Or,“I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a cavity search ma’am.”

OT7/Multiple Members

buttercream @minniepetals

summary: you were always adorable in their eyes, sometimes a little too adorable.

dulce periculum @forgottenpasta

summary: Devious and devilish, your two new impish hybrids never miss a chance to torment you for your hopeless attraction to them, knowing exactly what they do to you. But is sly sexuality and enigmatic allure all there is to the tiger and wolf hybrid, or do the depths of their eyes hide something more for you? Part ½

tropicana @dragunjk

summary: groovy punch sippin

amaranthine @koyamuses

summary: As the sole owner of Nightshade, a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, you find pleasure in rising each morning to tend to your guests but behind closed doors and within the shadows, you are the covenant leader to a group of young vampires who have claimed you as their mate.More often than not, your day is brimming with a mix of daily chores and back door deals that ensure the survival of your covenant. However, everything changes when three werewolves come stumbling into your life, all three of them claiming it was your scent that drew them closer as the words true mate ring into the silence.

testosterone boys @kiwiscript

summary: A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far.

operation love letters @ve1vetyoongi

summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

our princess @iridescentjin

summary: In your newly established poly relationship, you are intimate with both Taehyung and Seokjin at the same time for the first time.

[peachy-rambles]

Robin Hood + A/B/O AU pt. 2 (part 1 here):

Philza.

It was Philza.

Phil, the disowned Omega of the noble House Elytrian. The same Phil who all those years ago had seen Prince Dream bullying a defenseless child and stepped in when no one else had ever bothered or dared to.

Phil, who Techno considered his first (maybe only) friend and had never forgotten about, had carried a torch for him all these years.

Phil was the outlaw, the one who had been terrorizing and robbing the upper class and nobleman. He was the "Angel of Death", as they had begun to call him, receiving the nickname after killing the last few generals sent to capture him.

Phil was the Angel of Death, and regardless of his own personal feelings, it was Techno's job to capture him and present him to Dream, so that Phil could be properly punished for his crimes.

Which was exactly the reason why Techno was now attempting to sneak back into his own estate with Phil's unconscious body in his arms, using the hidden (and mostly unknown) back entrance.

He made it past the outer walls that fortified the small estate without being seen just fine, the few servants hired to work there all inside for the day due to the pouring rain. Unfortunately, this also meant that bringing Phil into the manor wasn't an option, not without getting caught anyway. But Techno needed to find a warm, dry place where he could set Phil down and quick.

The only place that came to his mind were the stables. Techno knew they should be empty at that time of day and there were plenty of vacant stalls where he could place Phil and hide him. Not only that, but if anyone did enter the stable, Phil's Omega scent would be easily concealed underneath the smell of the horses.

Right. The stables it was.

Techno quickly made his way to the large building, pushing the heavy door open and walking inside the dimly lit building. He began to relax now that he inside and out of the rain-

-only to internally curse when he saw that the stables weren't as empty like he'd assumed they would be.

Apparently, a certain apprentice of his had decided that day to spend time in the stables.

"Sir!" Ranboo exclaimed with a smile on his face, walking out of one of the occupied stalls, closing it behind him. "You were gone for a long time, so I decided to check in on Carl-"

Ranboo stopped mid-sentence and froze where he stood, his eyes widening as they landed on the body in Techno's arms.

Techno cringed, knowing his cover had been blown.

"Is that them? The-the Angel of Death? You...you finally caught them?" Ranboo stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Techno considered lying before he quickly remembered that he was horrible at lying. Even if Techno was somewhat decent at it, Ranboo was fully aware that Techno's sole task at the moment was the capture the Angel of Death and knew just about everything that Techno knew about them. He would no doubt recognize the clothes Phil was wearing to be the same signature ones the Angel of Death was always seen wearing.

So, lying to Ranboo was out.

Which meant...Techno would have to tell the truth.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Yes and no," was all Techno said and walked past Ranboo, heading further into the building. He entered an empty stall towards the back, giving it a quick once over before deeming it acceptable. He crouched down, and with great care, set Phil down onto the soft pile of clean hay that lay inside the stall.

Techno glanced briefly behind him, unsurprised to see that Ranboo had followed him and was standing there in the doorway of the stall, fidgeting nervously and his scent (so light, that it was easy to mistake him for a Beta) beginning to sour with anxiety.

"Sir?" the young Alpha asked, his voice quiet and unsure.

"Ranboo, I need you to go into the manor and gather up the medical supplies in my room - bandages, potions, take all of it. Grab two extra sets of my clothes as well," Techno ordered, and lowered his voice, adding on, "Make sure you aren't seen by anyone."

Ranboo was quiet for a moment before he seemed to properly comprehend Techno's words, his eyes lighting up in understanding and he nodded, "Yes, sir!"

He walked off and out of view, the sound of the stable doors opening and closing echoing throughout the building as Ranboo left.

With Ranboo gone for the moment, Techno turned back around and focused his attention back on Phil.

Phil was a bit damp from being out in the rain, but fortunately wasn't soaked like Techno since he'd done his best to cover Phil with his cloak until they'd reached the stables. Despite that, his face was pale (probably both from blood loss and the cold) and he was beginning to shiver, so it would be best to get him into a dry set of clothes soon.

The arrow embedded in Phil's shoulder was still an issue as well, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore and it most likely wasn't infected, so it could be easily dealt with (Techno had treated his fair share of arrow wounds back in the days of serving in the King's army).

Techno sat there, lost in his thoughts as he gazed down on Phil's unconscious form, listening to the sound of the rain still pouring outside and hitting the roof of the stables.

A few minutes passed before Techno heard the sound of the stable doors opening, Ranboo appearing a few minutes later with a old leather medical bag in his hands, several items of clothing tucked underneath it.

"Did anyone see you?" Techno asked and was relieved when Ranboo shook his head.

"Ok, good. Now come here, I'm going to need your help."

It took a bit, but together, Techno and Ranboo managed to dislodge the arrow from Phil's shoulder and clean the wound before bandaging it up in haste.

Once that was dealt with, Techno stripped Phil out his damp clothes (kicking Ranboo out for this part) and placed him in some of the dry clothing Ranboo had brought. Techno took his own soaked outfit off as well and changed into the rest of the dry clothes, before he crouched down next to Phil to check over him once more.

Even now, Phil remained unconscious and it almost appeared as though he were simply sleeping. He looked strangely vulnerable laying there, not helped at all by the fact that the clothes he was wearing (Techno's) were massive on him, making him appear smaller than he was.

Like this, Phil was such a far cry from the infamous Angel of Death, it was no wonder that no one had found out his true identity until now.

But really, if Techno was being honest with himself, he wasn't surprised.

Of course Phil was the Angel of Death. Who else would have the inside knowledge he did, who else would be clever or capable enough to successfully steal from the rich, who else would be this kind-hearted and give what he stole to the poor, even risking his own life time after time to do so?

Philza, that's who.

Techno didn't even realize that his body had decided to act on his own, so lost in his own thoughts, until his hand reached out to brush some of Phil's long golden locks back from his face. He was about to pull back, when Phil (still unconscious) turned his head and leaned into Techno's touch, a small whine escaping from him.

Techno reacted on instinct, a low pleased rumble rising in his chest as he cupped Phil's face in his hand. He couldn't help but smile when Phil nuzzled into his palm and let out a soft purr before seemingly falling back into blissful sleep.

No, no one would ever suspect that Phil was the Angel of Death.

And Techno would make sure no one would ever find out.

Techno allowed himself to sit there and hold Phil for a few more minutes before he regretfully pulled his hand away. He stood up and walked out of the stall, where Ranboo was waiting for him just outside, concern etched onto his face.

"Go on, ask," Techno said with a sigh, having known this was inevitable as soon as Ranboo had seen Techno carrying Phil into the stables.

"That's the Angel of Death, right?" Ranboo asked, glancing briefly behind Techno where Phil was.

"Yes," Techno answered.

"You're not going to turn him in, are you?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," Techno stated and narrowed his eyes at the younger Alpha. "I suppose the question is now whether you'll turn him in or not."

"I won't!" Ranboo exclaimed, startling both himself and Techno. Ranboo cleared his throat and continued in a much softer voice, "I mean, I'm not going to tell anyone. If you're not going to turn him in, you probably have a good reason and I trust you."

"I'm not sure if my reasons are good per say, but I do have reasons," Techno muttered and sighed, leaning back against the stall door.

"He's an Omega, right?" Ranboo asked. There was no judgement or surprise in his voice, merely simple curiosity.

"Yes, he is. Philza of House Elytrian. They're renowned for producing Omegas, and Phil was one of them. He was engaged to an Alpha from another noble family, but he was disowned a while back for instead bonding with an Alpha beneath his social class," Techno explained with a shrug.

Understanding seemed to dawn on Ranboo's face, "You sound like you know him. Were...were you two-"

"I knew him once, a long time ago, but it doesn't matter now," Techno said, interrupting whatever train of thought Ranboo was about to go on, "Ranboo, I appreciate all you've done to help me so far, but I'm afraid there's one more thing I must ask of you."

Ranboo hesitated for a moment before he nodded, "Whatever it is, sir, I'll try my best!"

---

It was just another day at Church Prime and Jack was doing his nightly rounds, when he heard a knock at the front door. Which wasn't terribly unusual and he thought nothing of it as he went to go open them.

There standing on the front steps was an unusually tall Beta, holding a limp body in their arms.

"I-I just found him and he seems injured and I didn't know where else to go-" the Beta began to explain, panic in their voice.

"Calm down! Come inside and lemme see them," Jack interrupted to Beta and led them inside to one of the back rooms where they kept the spare beds.

The Beta set down the body onto one of the beds and Jack leaned down, beginning to inspect the unconscious figure.

It didn't take him long to realize he recognized them - it was Philza, the Angel of Mercy!

Jack turned around to speak to the Beta and hopefully get more information out of them, but they were already walking away.

"Oi!" Jack yelled and the Beta flinched before bolting, running out the door.

Jack ran after them but by the time he reached the front doors, the Beta was long gone and nowhere to be seen.

---

Techno watched from a distance, safely hidden behind a dense thicket nearby, as Ranboo brought Phil into Church Prime.

A few minutes later, Ranboo ran out of the building and made his way to where Techno was, joining his mentor in his hiding spot.

They both saw as the friar that had greeted Ranboo walked out, glancing around, but when he didn't see Ranboo, headed back inside and closed the front doors.

"What now, sir?" Ranboo asked after a few moments had passed.

"Now, we go back home and pretend this never happened," Techno answered simply and began to walk off in the direction back towards the manor, Ranboo quick to follow him.

Of course, that wasn't completely true. Techno knew that he couldn't just pretend none of this had happened or ignore the Angel of Death's true identity.

Already, he was planning his next move and knew exactly what he needed to do next.

[djarinvibe]

Shooting Stars (Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: Okay it’s finally here! I’m so excited for this fic, I’m also excited for y’all to read this fic.

Warnings: MODERN!AU, none

Words: 2.2K

Summary: A new professor has been hired at your work seemingly out of the blue.

Master List

September

Dust-filled rays of golden hues shone brightly throughout the large teachers lounge as you sat there, sipping your morning coffee. The room was empty, save for your sitting figure. You typically got to work early, liking the quietness of the space before the other professors and staff would arrive. It gave you time to wake up, as well as prep for the upcoming day. You would do it in your classroom, however, you shared it with the night school teacher and she doesn't leave until it’s time for your first class of the day.

The school you teach at is a community college, but only a two year institution. It’s quite small, one of the smallest in the state, due to how lowly populated the surrounding cities are. You enjoy it, it gives you a chance to form personal relationships easier. Plus the simpleness of a small town has always intrigued you. 

You moved to the low-populated city shortly after graduating and getting your bachelors degree just seven years ago. You got your job as the Film and Literature professor for both grades shortly after and wouldn’t change it for the world, having taught here for six years now. You love your students, and the curriculum, and you’ve also made friends with the other long-time staff. 

The school year just started, actually. You're only two weeks into the semester. The beginning of the year always had a bit of magic to it. Students actually want to be here and teachers aren't so crabby. There's a collective togetherness felt across the whole campus for the first month or so, it's the highlight of the year.

“Here again early?” The voice of your colleague startled you, prompting you to spill some coffee over the papers you’d been grading.

“Shit,” You muttered, quickly trying to dab away the liquid, “Uh, yeah, I always do.” You chuckled, shrugging away the situation. You looked up to see who’d entered the room and smiled, noting it was one of your close work friends, Omera. The woman has worked here for almost as long as you, having started two years after. She isn't a teacher, instead she works in the office as a secretary. Omera also has a ten year old daughter, and is an amazing single mother. You've met her child, Winta, a few times in the past. You two became friends quickly, finding out you had many things in common.

“I prefer the extra twenty-five minutes of sleep.” She chuckled lightly, padding over to the old coffee machine. You always made sure to brew a full pot, as you were usually the first person to make any. You nodded towards her with a quieted snort, rolling your eyes, before looking back down at the work in front of you.

“Oh, did you hear? Dean Karga hired a new Astronomy teacher.” She smirked, pouring the coffee into a cup as she leaned against the cabinets. “I got a peek of him after his interview,” She paused to throw away the stir stick and trot over, sitting at the small table to join you, “And he’s cute.”

“I didn’t hear,” You raised your brow, “We’re two weeks into the year, why hire him late? Is he new in town?” Your curiosity peaked as you gawked at the woman for answers. 

“I don’t know.” Omera shrugged, taking a sip of the hot liquid, “Could be. But anyways, the Dean is going to introduce him during the morning meeting.” 

“Oh maker, I remember when he did that with me.” You chuckled, shaking your head. Every new member of staff got introduced to the others by the Dean. Greef tries to be a comedian during, but it always ends up being an awkward stand up set with no laughter and scoffs of pity. 

“I guess we’ll see what happens.” Omera smirked, “Oh, and I heard he’s single.” She added with a tap to your arm. The woman knows that you haven't dated in a while; you just haven't been trying. 

“Oh, I don't know…” You trailed off, shaking your head. You didn't have time to think about that. You had more pressing things to worry about like your job, and...

“Just see how it plays out.” The secretary pleaded softly, prompting you to finally cave. She gave a small cheer of delight, her excitement rolling off her thin figure in waves.

-

It took another half an hour before most of the staff finally arrived, just in time. The morning meetings always took place twenty minutes before the starting bell, leaving enough room to cover current topics and get to your classroom.

With the teachers lounge packed as tightly as could be, the Dean finally stepped into the space. Following behind him was, who you could only assume, the new Professor. You didn’t catch a great glimpse, as someone partially blocked your vision, but from what you saw you were intrigued.

“Alright, alright everyone.” Dean Karga’s voice dispelled the murmurs of the room, making it deafeningly quiet. The only sound you could hear was the chattering of students walking the halls outside. You glanced at Omera beside you, her eyes fixated on the new teacher next to the Dean. Scooting slightly until your view wasn't blocked, the mysterious man finally came into view.

You couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in your belly, the man in your vision causing them. The Dean’s words melted away, your head becoming fuzzy as you looked at the new teacher. He was handsome, to say the least. He donned a brunette mop of loose, curly hair, and stubble to match. He was broad, the light gray suit he donned only making him look more so. He stood with his hands on his hips, gaze scanning the room when he unsuspectedly locked sight with your own.

Time froze for a moment as his dark eyes peered, your heart gaining speed and your breath catching in unison. Though looking at each other in a crowded room, you felt as though you were the only two. You could've sworn he gave you a gentle nod and a grin, but it felt hazy.

When you finally blinked and looked down, you noted how warm your cheeks had gotten. You felt flustered, the hot rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins and warming up your cold hands. You kept your gaze on the floor ahead of you, trying to steady your racing heart. It was silly to be so flustered over a look, but you haven't experienced that in years.

“And this is our new Astronomy Professor, Din Djarin,” Karga’s words floated back in and you furrowed your brow, trying desperately to ignore the man beside him. The crowd murmured greetings towards the man in the light gray suit, and you felt Omera’s elbow poke your side. Looking towards her, she held a smug expression only fueling the heat in your cheeks. 

“Okay, first period is about to start. Better get you all to class.” The Dean’s voice echoed, and the room erupted with chatter as the herds began to clear out. You, flustered, grabbed your stack of papers and bag, ducking your head to exit silently. Getting to the safety of your classroom was all you cared about. 

--

The day surprisingly flew by, despite the whole meeting fiasco earlier that morning. Getting into the groove of class always caused the days to drift by without a blink. Plus, you tried to make the curriculum as engaging as possible to keep both you and your students interested.

After dismissing your last period of the day, you remained in the room working on the papers from the morning. The afternoon sunlight barred against the windows and lit the room brilliantly. That's one reason you loved your classroom; no matter the season, you always got sun. Plus, you’d hung several plants by the windows three years ago much to Dean Karga’s dismay. But it made the space feel less like a prison cell with its painted white brick walls and cold, tile floors.

A knock on the door filled the silence of the space, startling you slightly. After letting out a chuckle at your scare, you yelled for whomever to enter, knowing sometimes students will leave something behind. However, when the door clicked open and you looked up, your breath caught. 

“Hi,” The new professor's low voice echoed in the silence as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind. You cleared your throat, standing up from your desk and subconsciously straightening the fabric of your clothes. 

“H-Hi, you must be…?” You stuttered out the sentence, walking to the edge of your desk and leaning against the surface for support. Of course you know him, but you’d feel impolite not asking. The man trotted into your room til he stood only a few feet in front of you.

“Oh, uh Din, Din Djarin.” He spoke, sticking out a hand for you to shake. Complying, your much smaller hand became engulfed by his own as the two of you greeted the other. You were quick to introduce yourself, managing not to stutter as you spoke this time. The man repeated your name, the sound of it rolling off his lips like velvet. 

“Is there a reason you stopped by?” You questioned, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. His head tilted in question before he realized what you'd asked.

“Oh, Yes, I was just making a point to introduce myself to the staff personally. The Dean put on quite a show.” Din commented, shaking his head. You don't remember a thing about what Dean Karga had said during the whole meeting, only the vivid eye contact between you and the man in front of you, but you chuckled at his claim nonetheless. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” You smiled softly, studying the man's face. You couldn't help but notice a few minor scars across his warm skin, one tainting the bridge of his curved nose and another along his cheekbone. There was even a small one hiding on his chin, just showing from behind his stubble. 

It made you curious as to how an Astronomy Professor could get such things. Then again, people get scars in all types of weird ways. For example, you have a scar along your thigh that you got from a bike accident involving a hill and your chain catching. You were thirteen at the time.

“What do you teach?” The man questioned, his eyes looking around the room, no doubt trying to guess. The night teacher you shared the space with had put up some decor, but for the most part, the walls were bare of any guidance; aside from the several plants hanging by the window.

“Film and Literature. Have been for...” You paused to do the mental math, “Six years.”

“That’s a long time.” Din observed, nodding his head. You agreed with a slight chuckle, looking away and biting your lip. The man's eyes studied your face as you gazed elsewhere, enamored by your delicate features. Seeing you from across the teachers lounge had been burning in his mind all day. In fact, he had started going room to room for ‘introductions’ just to find you; It only took him seven classrooms.

“Well, I love it,” You shrugged, a smile taking over your face, “And what do you teach?” You finally looked back up at the man, your eyes greeting once again. The intimate contact caused such an anxious stir in your belly, but a welcomed stir. 

“Astronomy.” He responded with a nod, putting his hands onto his hips.

“A spaceman huh?” You questioned with a laugh, “I suck at science… hence why I am an Film and Literature teacher.” You gestured to the empty desked room. The man just chuckled along before you two fell into silence again. It didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as before, your tension slowly melting away.

You haven't felt this way around someone for a long time. At least not since your college boyfriend over seven years ago, you dated for two years before you graduated and moved. You haven't really made an effort to since, not for any reason in particular, mostly just because you haven't found someone who made you feel special. Plus, it’s a small area and most of the men weren't available

“Well, I should let you get back to work.” Din spoke after a moment of wordless stares. His sentence was slow and hesitant, almost like he didn't want to leave.

“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot.” You stood up from leaning against your desk and chuckled, looking to the stack of papers on the surface.

The two of you began a slow pace towards the door, heads cast to the floor in shyness. Your sets of footsteps sounded against the tiled floor, filling the empty silence with an echoed click. When you reached the door, the man turned on his heels, nearly bumping into you.

“I'm in room 302 If you'd ever like to stop by?” The man’s statement was more spoken like a hopeful question.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to.” You bit your lip before giving him a gleeful smile, nodding your head. The man perked up at your response, giving you one last goodbye before stepping out of the room.

------------------------

I know there are a few people who want to be tagged, but i lost your @’s! Please send an ask if you want to be added to the Shooting Stars tag list!

[astrovian]

the official ranking of RA photoshoot outfits (pt. 1)

as @dykethorin​ said when I first proposed doing this particular ranking,  “Some real Decisions™️ were made” with these shoots y’all

all photoshoot outfits (for part one) under the cut

the official ranking of Daniel Miller outfits here

the official ranking of Adam Price outfits here

the official ranking of Claude Becker outfits here

guys, I’m crying with laughter

hey quick question: what the fuck was this photoshoot??? (and also I need current RA in these poses)

it’s real nice to see a fun, loosey-goosey RA (before he established himself in the broody-character archetype) but there are so many questionable fashion choices here

when I started this list I had two options:

1)     allow some leeway to the older photoshoots because, let’s be real, the early 2000s were an atrocious time for fashion that a lot of us would most rather forget we participated in

2)     judge them by today’s standards, which is harsh but some of these outfits deserve it

naturally, I chose option #2

It’s so hard to even pick where to start. the too-loose pants? the ill-fitting suit jacket? The untucked dress shirt that is for some god-forsaken reason undone in two separate directions??

I have chosen one thing that sums the outfit up as a whole: what monster decided to put the shirt collar over the suit jacket????

the jazz hands scream “hey I’m a FUN guy” but the suit screams “I’m the yo-pro asshole at the office who is so unreliable you’re pretty sure some nepotism must surely have had an influence during the hiring process”

I originally said ‘I guess we should be glad there’s no surfer necklace’ but then I had the horrifying realisation that it’s a 50/50 shot as to whether that would improve this outfit or make it worse. and you know when there’s even slimmest chance a surfer necklace could improve an outfit somehow that it’s time to take a good hard look at yourself

1/10 just because this photoshoot made me genuinely laugh out loud

wait I’m sorry, what-

how on god’s green earth is this the same photoshoot (?) as guys, I’m crying with laughter????

the great thing about these lists is that you are getting my genuine reactions as I progress down the images. I had no idea this was the same photoshoot (?) until approximately 10 seconds after writing guys, I’m crying with laughter

this perfectly encapsulates the duality of man – one moment it’s all goofy jazz hands and the next it’s a hunk-of-the-week moment

this man and guys, I’m crying with laughter are the equivalent of looking at pictures of yourself in high school vs. in your 20s/30s/at your prime. the whiplash is insane

and why is he in front of barred windows?? it appears they were afraid of what would happen if this hunk escaped into the general population

I still can’t believe they kept the collar over the suit jacket though

I’m so conflicted guys, the urge to numerically rank this terrible outfit is strong but uh… as per usual shirtless ones aren’t fair/10

revenge of the killer surfer necklace

do you ever look back at a specific moment in time and are so thankful that someone took one tiny action? one small thing they did in the heat of the moment that probably seemed innocuous at the time but had far-reaching consequences? for example, it might something as simple as deciding to take a umbrella on a bright sunny day only for it to be extremely useful on the way home when the weather turns

this is how I feel about the person who decided RA could leave that top button closed for this shoot

if you squint, you can see the surfer necklace under that top button. and thank god you have to squint

this is such an early 2000s look though. that shirt by itself is fine and would actually look killer with a properly fitted suit nowadays. it’s the shirt dress and loose denim look with makes no sense to me

2/10 for a pretty uninspiring early 2000s outfit

revenge of the uh… 

from the same shoot as revenge of the killer surfer necklace this loses .1 of a mark for adding a jacket, while pretty innocuous, to an already busy outfit

1.9/10

were we really that afraid of legs?

why were we, as a society, so obsessed with loose, ill-fitting pants? why were we so desperate to conceal legs from the general population? what secrets were we trying to hide? I understand the comfort factor on the hand, but on the other did anyone actually have eyes

the sneakers/suit combo I can definitely live with. but those pants (that I’m convinced must be pyjama pants in another life) turns it all into a sloppy, blurry mess

2.7/10

is it a bird? is it a plane? no, it’s… a floating RA?

what is it about photoshoots in the early 2000s where they just make no damn sense. it’s my opinion that the theme/concept of a shoot should not overshadow the subject, and that’s the correct opinion (as well as being the exact opposite as to what’s happening here)

maybe there was a hint or reason as to why floating wizard RA exists in the article that this shoot presumably came with, but I don’t get it. clearly I’m far too literal of a person and need to embrace my inner artist

looks pretty, still weird

moving on the entire point of this post, the outfit, I uh,… oh god

I’m pretty sure this the same (and similar, if not) outfit RA wore in the North & South behind-the-scenes, and how we as a society went from John Thornton’s stiff collar and top hat to this is amazing

maybe we were so obsessed with period dramas back then because it was a nice alternative to indulge our eyes in when we had to face the harsh, cold reality of modern fashion at the time

anyway – trust me, while I am all for a man in a necklace, let’s pray surfer necklaces never come back 2.9/10

I genuinely was looking up “pinstriped jacket jokes” because I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head but then I realised I don’t need a joke here because pinstriped jackets are a joke all by themselves

I feel like there may be a situation where pinstriped suit jackets might grow on me, but this is not that situation

also I don’t really know where I stand on the belt, but I certainly think I’m leaning towards the ‘why’ part of the scale. if you’re gonna make a belt that prominent in a photoshoot, at least make it a fun belt

3/10

I’m noticing a trend in these photoshoots and it’s these horrific backgrounds

I will admit that the non-patterned suit jacket is going with the jeans a lot better here. but now that my attention isn’t focused on that, all I can see are the dress shoes. WHY DID YOU PUT DRESS SHOES WITH STRAIGHT-LEGGED JEANS???

please someone I am begging you, can we as a society get to tapered jeans already

3.3/10

did RA genuinely ever get put into any clothes that actually fitted him properly at this point in time?

look, I know I’ve been picking on the bootcut jeans & loose attire that plagued us in the early 2000s (or 2006, to be specific to this photoshoot). what can I say, it’s the low-hanging fruit. or loose-hanging, as the case may be

I do appreciate that rich brown leather jacket and that smile. but that’s where it stops. someone take dress shirts and dress shoes away from bootcut denim PLEASE

3.5/10

this is the bad-boy from your hometown in every rom-com ever

as with well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of below, the lower rating is simply because from what we can see, it’s just a plain shirt. however, that dipped v-neck? mm-mmm

look at that smirk. this man knows what he’s doing to us, dammit.

why do you persist in hurting us this way 4/10 

well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of

god bless the person who said we need this shirt wet and clinging and only half-soaked

I’m so sad that I have to give this such a low ranking because uh… we’ve established I have a weakness for those biceps

this does also get bonus points for the creativity of “only this portion of your shirt needs to be wet for your close-up” but at the end of the day it is a solitary grey t-shirt even if it is floating in an attractive sea of muscles

4.5/10

the photographer really said ‘who gives a crap about the clothes’, huh?

an interesting shirt! but as much as I love RA’s face, we should be able to see more of the shirt (and the outfit) because uh… it’s hard to make a judgement call on a photoshoot outfit without that

also, it’s just so hard to concentrate on some of these with RA staring into my soul like that

*sigh* 4.6/10

hello sir, are you as kinky as your shirt?

this is one of the few occasions on which I will give the bootleg baggy jeans a pass. interesting choice to go shoeless for all outfits in this shoot – but the way the shirt is all crumpled is annoying me an incessant amount. I am begging you, someone pass this stylist an ironing board PLEASE

4.7/10 for a crinkle-cut RA

all that’s missing is the beer cans

I’m not sure of the short sleeves here. I think with the shirt open as well my brain doesn’t know where to look

HOWEVER, this is an RA from the early 2000s that I can get behind – largely because he’s not drowning in his denim

the nice, plain belt which matches with the shirt? excellent

interesting choice to go with the bare feet – this entire look (and the quality of that concrete floor) screams ‘we’re chilling at a summer party in your parent’s basement in the early 2000s’ if not for one thing – that couch is way too nice looking. am I being too pedantic about this? no. If you’re gonna go for the whole basement party look, you need a couch that’s falling apart and has at least one questionable stain on it

that being said, I would hang out in this man’s basement

it’s a shirtless one so once again, I cannot give a numerical answer/10

I’m not sure if this man is dangerous or is just an idiot

they may have been wanting RA to embrace his inner Daniel Miller here but that is NOT a jacket that should have its collar popped or if it is, it definitely should not be popped that much. just turn the intensity of that pop down by… at least 35%

this look is telling me to embrace my inner lacy, ruffled collar that men in England used to wear around the 1500 - 1600s. I hate it and refute it with every part of my soul

this is what happens when you embrace your inner Daniel a little bit too much 5.6/10

the return of the leg monster

not much to say about this except once again we are terrified to put RA’s legs into well-fitted pants. what secrets are hiding underneath those voluminous billows? will we ever know?

5.8/10

the one that crushed my hopes and dreams and then spat on my corpse

so I admit it, I got really excited because I thought that this was a leopard print shirt and I was like “this is something I did NOT know that I needed until right now”, even if I would argue that it could have been nice in a little bit of a brighter colour. no matter, I thought it was a nice subtle addition to this plain suit and was just very excited at the prospect of RA rocking leopard print even though I almost always hate leopard print in single every form it comes in

and then. upon zooming. a disappointing paisley. sorry, paisley lovers. I hate it

I would also argue here that the pocket square would have been nice in a plain, bright colour rather than another patterned item thrown into the mix. come on stylists, stop letting me down with your pocket squares

also if there is a point where a suit can be too shiny, I think we’ve found it. I could wax floors with that fabric and I’d rather be thinking about RA’s talent & good looks rather than imagining him being used as a human mop

the hand porn is uh… strong with this one 6/10

the hand porn one

the ring is a nice subtle touch but I can’t decide where I stand on this tie. for me, the checks are just a *wee* tad too small. so small that it I’m scared it will turn into one of those optical illusions with a number in it if I stare at it the tie for too long

the pocket square could also have not tried so hard to blend in with the rest of the suit jacket. give me some colour, baby!

Richard really needs to put his hand down so I can actually concentrate on the clothes 6.5/10

 I’m just dotty for this one (I’m so sorry y’all)

so suave. so shiny. I wanna stroke that fabric so bad, it looks so soft

the dots bring a nice yet understated touch to a monotone outfit and GOOD LORD those thighs

they just had to pose him like this to torture us, I’m convinced. also they call him a “commanding gentleman” in the subtitle which is really just unnecessary to verbalise when he’s sitting like this

Someone put me in a rom-com with this man 7.2/10

the modern magician (at least he ain’t floating this time)

I know that the hat should be the focus of this shoot but I can’t get over those shoes

tangentially related, I have never understood why they make men’s dress shoes so excessively long and pointed. these certainly aren’t a good example of this but uh… I don’t understand why men’s dress shoes are clown shoes

I think part of what’s throwing me off is the sockless look. normally I can handle (and even love) it with some shoes but there’s something about the hem of those jeans and those shoes that turn them into slippers when worn sockless

I love the two-tone scarf but what really excites me is the plaid shirt that we can barely see. I’m eternally sad that they had RA hid it in this pose. and also, come one. you could’ve at least gotten a chair with an actual back to it. that can’t be good for his back at all

the one bonus of this outfit is the hat because when do we ever get RA in hats?? and hats that aren’t baseball caps?? a nice, rare touch. but also one which hides most of that face so…

can we talk about the fact that my gut tells me those jean cuffs have been deliberately turned up at the front and all I want in life is to reach into this image and flip them down 7.5/10

*pterodactyl noises*

holy macaroni. that demin shirt. and this shirt’s even a nice lighter denim colour??? and the v-neck?? SIR

I know he’s worn some faux-denim shirts in the last few years (see: Uncle Vanya rehearsal pics) but as outerwear? knocked it out of the park in this one

also I know this is a shirt not a jacket, but this shirt made me think about how I never realised how much I needed RA in jean jackets until today

It could be argued that a nice crew neck cut would work slightly better than the v-neck but that’s really a personal choice

a lovely respite for my weary eyes 7.7/10

a truly, truly blessed image. the sort of image that would bring you endless good luck

I know I’ve given a lot of pants crap on this list but these. these are the ones. these are doing the lord’s work for sure. and god bless the person who decided to shoot from this particular side angle.

and then the shirt?? I’m honestly afraid it may rip if he moves. I could leave or take the tie though. it’s not adding a whole lot to this outfit and I would much rather that shirt be uh… open at the top for a glimpse of uh… well. you know.

this RA outfit laughs in the face of all those early 2000s RA outfits 8.1/10

me running to open my phone every time an RA-related notification pops up

my only sadness is that this shoot was in black & white. we need more action-shot RA shoots!

also the subtle plaid?? *chef’s kiss*

well, I said ‘my only sadness’ but is it also me or are both ends of that tie strangely square? that is throwing me off from an otherwise spectacular photoshoot outfit, I won’t lie

8.5/10 for a man of action

this is what we all like to think we look on the way to work. hate to break it to ya - we don’t

god, that wind-ruffled hair. the rustic look provided by both the suit material & the photo editing. that stare over the top of that coffee mug. the casual ‘I just picked up the paper on my way out this morning’

words fail me

would it be weird if I said I would pay money to be able to run my hands through anyone’s hair that looks as soft and wind-swept as that 8.9/10

the comfiest RA

I love. love. love this outfit, especially the sweater. the pant colour goes extremely well with this one and I’m so glad they didn’t just stick him in jeans. the is the softest, comfiest RA and I love it. this is an RA who you can simultaneously share a beer and takeaway with at home, cuddling up on the sofa while you watch a film, as well as an RA who will take you out to eat fancy pasta at an upscale restaurant.

the choice of sitting on a stool is also great. my only real gripe here is the watch (and even that’s a minor one, really). the watch isn’t THAT bad, but it’s chunky face reminds me slightly of the watches boys in my class would wear in middle school. the watch could be a *wee wee tad* slicker, but really, I’m nitpicking here (and this is the only time I will admit to it)

the more I look at it, the more this becomes one of my fav RA pics. the slight smile. the relaxed pose. the hint of hand porn

weirdly, for some reason this picture gives me the exact same comfy and ‘just chilling out’ feeling as when I hear the song “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer 9.5/10

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Pink Chains

Pt 3

Kyotani owns a grunge /punk apparel shop after leaving the Sendai Frogs after a incident with the Black Jackals. He designs his own clothes and hires Oikawa & Iwaizumi as his employees. Everything goes smoothly for awhile, till you walk in; pink dress, big smile , and bubbly personality. His whole life stops in that moment. 

Punk! Kyotani x Bubbly! F! Reader. ❤️

Kyo had walked you to school after the both of you had calmed down. He hated seeing you cry jesus christ, it hurt him to his core. All he could think about was those tears running down your pretty face down to your fake smile. He was really falling for you, this was a first for him so he had no idea if what he had been doing was right or what.

You skipped ahead of him, he glanced up a couple times and got a big smile on his face. You had on a blue dress with flats and his jacket on, it was too big for you of course but you insisted on wearing it. And that's when he knew he was doing it right. Seeing you in his clothes and having that big smile on your face that was just for him.

“Kyooo!!! I gotta go!”

He shook his head walking to you and putting his arms around your shoulders. “Do you? Skip sweetie.” He teased looking over you to see people staring.

“Kyo!” You gave him an angry face and he just laughed kissing your head. “I'll turn you into a rule breaker yet. Have a good day sweetie.”

“Not uh!” You squeezed him tightly for a minute. “Dont sweat this morning kay?!? I can fight with you, are you working today?”

Your words cut him deep, sure his friends had his back but this was .. different. You were willing to defend him from anything . Hopefully you never had to do that. He ran his fingers through your head and swayed a bit whispering in your ear. “People are staring,”

You giggled just squeezing him more and Kyo smirked , he placed a light smack on your thigh stepping back chuckling at the little yip you did .

“Kyo!”

“Yeah sweetie i work today but im closing early, beach volleyball with friends . Ill text you when i close up shop okay?”

“You better!!” You placed a kiss on his chest and ran off into the school looking back and waving before disappearing.

Kyo waited till you were in the school before leaving. He shot everyone a smug ass grin too as he made his way down the street. Fuck his car was still at the store.

Kyo was not in any rush to get to work. Hell it was his store whos gonna rage at him? No one . Hes the boss. And besides Iwaizumi is most likely there already opening up the store anyway. The heavy rings on his right hand clicked all around while he made his way down the boardwalk strip , hands in his pockets while he eyed all the shops.

Buncha no good stores. If it didn't cost so much to get his brand up and running he could have a bigger building , or at least a better location-… he stopped walking and shook his head. “That's a terrible idea. Kyotani cmon get it together.” He sighed, rubbing his sleeve. “I would never had met her..”

Bbbbbbeeep

“Mad Dog chaaaaaaan!!!!” A car zoomed up to him skidding to a stop . Oikawa peaked out the window grinning.

**

Meanwhile, you were just getting into the first class of the day. Everyone was sneaking looks at you because of the jacket but you had no idea. You were too caught up on last night to really pay attention. Trying to take your mind off it you pulled a red notebook from your bag to doodle while listening to the teacher.

Soon enough the blank notebook page was full of design ideas; red pandas with hats , clothes and big fluffy tails. The designs were really cute , your teacher even complimented them from time to time . But you really just wanted a brand to pick you up, graduation was soon and you did not want to not have a job lined up.

“Y/n.. hey y/n”

A voice next to you alerted you to look up and over to see Kio, the girl who sat next to you in class.

“Oh hey Kio, whats up?!?”

Kio placed her hand on her head with her elbow on the table looking you over in this jacket. She never really talked to you unless she needed notes and was only taking this class for the credit she needed .

“That jacket is so different from what you wear y/n. Where'd ya get it?”

You were about to answer her but heard a snicker behind you , must be Yukio, Kios friend, also in need of credits for graduation. Would probably be best not to mention the store, Kyo did not need the harassment.

“Its my boyfriend's jacket!” You told them pulling it close with a big smile on your face.

Kio and Yukio locked eyes then looked at you .

“Boyfriend?” Kio asked.

“Looks like he has the opposite style as you y/n.” Yukio chimed in , leaning over her table. “Was he that guy with you this morning?”

“Yep!!!”

“He looks.. familiar..” Kio said tapping her pen on his lips.

“He does huh?” Yukio said leaning closer. “Whats his name hm?”

“..Kyo?” You were starting to get uncomfortable with all the questions.

“Oh!!!” Yuki yipped looking at Kio. “Kyotani! The Sendai Frogs!!!”

“..the Frogs? So hes..” Kio shot you a look. “He beat up Bokuto. For no goddamn reason.”

You shuffled around in your seat sneaking glances at the clock hoping it would somehow speed up so you could leave. It was not their business to know the reason behind it. Kyo was a very sweet guy , you had only known him a day but in those hours together you had never been happier; he opened up to you, cried even. Kyotani genuinely feels bad about that incident. He helped you through the tattoo instead of getting upset and brought you around his friend. The smirky smile he threw you always gave you butterflies in your stomach and sent your heart a flutter. He was just a misunderstood guy trying to start over with his friends.

You pulled the jacket off as soon as you heard the sweet sound of the bell and gathered up your bag standing up with the jacket over your arm close to your heart.

“Where do you think youre goin?” Kio got up following you out of the classroom along with Yukio. “Were not done y/n.”

Yukio grabbed your bag yanking it back and You spun around with a big smile and a sweet but slightly angry voice. “Kyo is a good guy and i really like him. I don't care if you two don't. You dont know the whole story either. And please stop following me, its not nice.” You waved at them so they could see your tattoo and you left in a quick pace down the hall . You pulled your phone from your bag texting with shaky hands.

**

Oikawa had dropped Kyo off at his store so he could drive home to shower and change and then go back to start his shift. He was tired and thankful no one could tell he had been crying the night before. Iwaizumi probably knew but he did not say anything, not with Oikawa around.

Kyo had on his shops uniform shirt which was a red dog house on a black shirt that said The Dog House on the back wrapped in chains. The summer line was selling smoothly and Mattsun had let him know that Yahaba agreed to come to the beach volleyball . He helped Iwaizumi unload a shipment while Oikawa was manning the front .

“So how'd it go last night?” He asked, passing Kyo a box.

“I told her .. everything.” The box was set down

“Oh ..? You? You did? What she say?” Iwa got another box groaning from its weight and giving it to Kyo

“Fucking hell.. would it kill them to pack the boots in all the boxes.. she said she was not scared of me. Dammit Iwaizumi she said she would fight with me.” He set the box down cursing .

“Fuck.. Kyotani.” Iwaizumi closed the truck up patting the back watching it drive off. “I know you've only just met her but she seems- Kyo?” He looked at his friend and he was staring at his phone , he looked like he was going to punch something .

Y/n: Kyo.. these girls in my class asked me about my jacket so i said it's my boyfriends and they asked your name cuz you look familiar and I told them and they .. brought up the Incident .

Y/N: i uhm, i did not say anything else but they were upset cuz they like Bokuto i guess but.. i left and they followed me and.. yanked me back. I .

Y/n: i was tough like you would be and asked them to leave me alone and i left. But.. uhm.. can.. can you call me when you can please..

“Iwaizumi...”

“You dont gotta say it. I can watch the front for a minute. “ he put his hand in Kyotanis arm watching his friend huff and puff . “Relax. Take a deep breath. “ Iwaizumi left his friend and Kyotani sat down on a box outside looking at the clouds in the sky with his phone to his ear.

“Kyo…” you sounded shaky and panicked

“Sweetie. Take a deep breath.” He was surprisingly calm sounding. He wanted to explode on the inside though, march right back to that school and take you into his arms and scare the hell out of those girls..He heard you breath in and out a few times till it evened out.

“Alright. Where are you right now Sweetie?”

“The.. outside.. courtyard..”

“Is it pretty there? Tell me what you see.” He leaned back on a box with his back to his shop. He brought one knee up tracing his index finger around in one of the holes in his jeans tugging at the strings making it bigger.

“Uhm… magnolias.. an oak tree.. some students are studying. It is pretty..”

“Sweetie..”

“Yes..?”

“Everything is okay now. Okay?”

“I.. yeah.. I tried to be tough but..i don't know. I said your a good guy cuz you are and I asked them to leave me alone.”

He ripped a few strings in the hole maging it even bigger over his knee. “Do you want me to pick you up after school?”

“Yeah.. i .. i just.”

“Ill be there sweetie.” He suddenly got an idea. “Promise. Now hows my happy girls day going now?”

He heard you giggle and the both of you relaxed slowly while you talked on the phone. You told him about your classes and the doodles you did too and Kyo asked you to send him them, he did not say why though.

“I gotta go sweetie. Ill be out front okay?”

“Kay.. have a good day Kyo.”

“You too Sweetie.” He hung up the phone and got up feeling the fire in him grow again.

After moving the boxes in he went to the front pulling Kawa and Iwa aside to the register explaining what happened. They were both upset over what they heard. Kyotani smirked texting Mattsun then looking at his friends.

“So after beach volleyball you know what we gotta do right?”

“Ou im excitedddd.” Kawa said with a big smile

“I gotta say im excited too.” Iwa said smirking and leaning on the register . “Im sure Mattsun is eager too.”

Kyo looked down reading the text with a side smirk. “Fuck with my girl and see what happens…”

**

@squeaky-ducky @zoppzoop

@haikyuu-but-low-iq @mochababes @kozushiki. @milkbreadcat @derpeedoo

*

[kpopmalereader]

bodyguard, pt.2 ; kim taehyung, jeon jungkook

• summary: bodyguard, pt.2 • pairing: kim taehyung x male!reader x jeon jungkook • word count: 2765 • to do

bodyguard ; pt.1, pt.2

Taehyung excuses himself from the table. The tension in Jungkook’s shoulders releases faintly.

Sitting between you, who sits quiet and observing, who Jungkook has just recently realized his feelings for, and Taehyung, who’s newest revelation shocked Jungkook to his core, and who flipped Jungkook’s world upside-down, makes Jungkook rather jumpy.

Even on the shopping trip Jungkook suggested you go own he was distant and distracted, he didn’t make near as many jokes as he normally would, he didn’t smile and tease you either.

“Hey.” You set your cup down and fix your cuffs. “Are you doing okay?”

Jungkook smiles at you. “I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You attempt a warm smile, hoping it doesn’t look too out of place on you. “You’ve been quiet all day. I know I haven’t been around as long as Taehyung or one of the others, but I know you enough to know when you’re acting differently. Did something happen? You’re not talking to Taehyung the same way, something happen between you two?”

“Damn you.” Jungkook mumbles. “You’re too perceptive.”

“Is that a yes?” You lean on your elbows. He picks at the trim on the table. “You can talk to me, Kook. We can have confidentiality, nothing in this room repeated.”

Jungkook chews on his lip, glancing where Taehyung walked away. “Taehyung and I… I guess we like the same person.”

“Is that an issue?” Jungkook seems confused at your question and you shrug. “You both like the same person, that’s not necessarily a problem.”

“We both want to date him,” Jungkook adds.

“People do that.” You shake your head and take a sip of your drink. “Do you know if he likes you back?”

“I think he and Taehyung are more likely to be together.”

Your eyebrows pull in. “Why do you say that?”

Jungkook moves to sit on his hands. He looks down at the table, thinking for a few seconds before speaking. “It just makes more sense. I think they would be good together. He’s more likely to have mutual feelings for Taehyung.”

You finish off your cup and stand. “Well, in my opinion, if I were him, I would do whatever I could to keep you both. I think he’s incredibly lucky to have either of your attention.”

Jungkook’s eyes follow you.

“I’m going to refill my drink.”

Jungkook slides down in his chair and pulls at his hair. “Why do people keep doing that?”

*

Two girls, trying and failing to hide from you, peek around the aisle you’re standing in. Your eyes narrow in their direction and the shorter girl’s cheeks turn pink. You noticing them is obviously not embarrassing enough, the other girl takes a step closer, pretending to examine the food in front of her.

You turn away from them, blocking Taehyung from their view. “Tae, have you picked yet?”

“I’m choosing between these two, why?” He looks up at you.

His face mask is below his chin and he’s holding two bags of chips. You reach over and pull his mask over his face.

“We can buy both, we should find Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s nose twitches to adjust the mask and his eyes squint.

“I thought I noticed a group of girls following us when we snuck out but I didn’t want to raise any worry. But now,” You seem aggravated. You’ve already ranted about the boys having no privacy a few times before. Your protective nature is something they’ve grown to like. “Two of them are moving closer and closer. I suspect they’re doing the same with Jungkook.”

You take the two chip bags from him and slide your hand down to his wrist.

“Keep your head down.”

Taehyung is suddenly very thankful for the mask he’s wearing as you lead him on a search for Jungkook. You find Jungkook on the other side of the store. Taehyung walks behind you and the first thing Jungkook sees of you is your glare at the two girls you pass. From where Jungkook is standing he can’t see the phone they’re using to take pictures of him but it becomes apparent they were watching him as they scamper off at your notice. He raises his eyebrows, holding drinks and ramen in his hand.

You walk over to him and pull his jacket’s hood over his head. He looks up at you with wide eyes. “I didn’t see them.”

“Yeah, I know.” You push his hair under the hood and pull the sides forward. “Come on. Did you get everything?”

He nods and holds out a packet of ramen. “This one is your favorite, right?”

You smile at him. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Jungkook’s blush is more visible than Taehyung’s as you walk. They pay for the snacks and drinks with you at their backs. The girls following the boys pass you and you raise your eyebrows. You make slow eye contact with each of them, forcing them to back up more and more. You relax your shoulders and take a step forward, speaking in a low voice.

“If I were you, I would consider deleting those photos. And I don’t think I would follow anybody anymore, especially them.” You nod your head and go back to the boys.

Taehyung questions you. “What did you say?”

“Just warned them about following idols.”

*

You knock on their dorm door, rolling your neck back and forth. You stretch your back out and sigh before anyone sees you.

Taehyung looks through the peephole, noticing something different about your face. It sinks in and the door flies open. “What happened?”

You thought about putting makeup over your black-eye and saying you cut yourself shaving or scratched your face in your sleep but thought they would be too observant.

You smile at him and stick your hands in your pockets. “I had a job over the weekend while you were stuck in the practice room and they caused a few more problems than you or Jungkook normally would.”

“You got in a fight?” Taehyung pulls you inside and all but shoves you to the couch.

You sit down and lean your head back. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You’ve been in a fight before?”

“What happened to your face?” Jungkook rushes over to you. “You got in a fight?”

You close your eyes as Jungkook and Taehyung take to examining your face and hands. “I was guarding this guy, he decided to drink a little more than he probably should have and wanted to fight everybody he came across. I managed to talk him out of most of them.”

“And then?” Taehyung asks, brushing his thumb over the darker areas of your face.

“Then he pushed the wrong person and they started throwing punches. He was a- He was not the nicest person and I did not completely want to help him out, but I did anyway.” You shrug your shoulders and open your eyes. “You should see the other guy.”

Jungkook laughs softly. You relax into the couch and he gasps. “Hey,”

You look up at him. “What?”

“You have bruises on your chest.”

“It was a fight, Jungkook. I’ll be alright. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. Sometimes my job is the reason.”

Jungkook pouts but doesn’t say anything else. He does, however, pull your shirt down slightly to see the bruises. Taehyung watches you look at each other until you wink at Jungkook, causing him to pull his hands away like they’re burning. You dissolve into laughter, melting into the couch. You cover your face as you laugh.

The sound of your laughing quiets until your moving shoulders are the only signs of laughter. Taehyung joins in the laughter after a minute, leaving Jungkook to sit with a burning red face and shaking hands.

He moves to sit on his hands, head pointed down and pout poking out. You finally start to calm down and open your eyes, heart beating pretty fast. You pat Jungkook’s knee.

“Sorry.” You shake your head. You smile at him and shrug. “I thought your reaction was cute, but I wasn’t expecting it.”

Jungkook’s face couldn’t be any redder. “I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

You smirk, looking forward. “You are definitely not going to like it when you find out I fight professionally on the side.”

“What?” Jungkook whips his head towards you, eyebrows furrowed again.

Taehyung’s ears perk up.

“I box for extra cash.” Your grin spreads. “Controlled, padded, sanctioned fighting. I’m a good fighter, I need it for my job, and if I can keep my skills up while also making extra money, why not?”

“Because you could get seriously injured?” Taehyung returns to worrying about your well-being, no longer joining in on teasing Jungkook. “Fighters get injured all the time.”

“Most injuries are superficial.”

“Most?” Both of them repeat.

“Most means you still get bad injuries!” Jungkook adds.

“How many times have you two gotten injured dancing or performing? What’s the difference?”

Taehyung sits back with a scrunched face. “The worst we get is a broken foot or sprained wrist. You get broken ribs and eye socket fractures.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide. “They get what?”

“It’s all amateur fighting. I have had broken ribs, but I have never had… that happen. All of the money I make just goes to extra stuff, if I ever have a very serious injury it’s easy to get out of fighting.”

“I don’t want you to get any injuries.” Jungkook mumbles.

Taehyung chews on his bottom lip. He looks between you and Jungkook for a few seconds. “What if you promise to come here if you get injured? Or at least let us know if something happens? From boxing or other jobs.”

Jungkook nods at everything Taehyung says. “And I don’t like that one guy trying to pick fights with everyone.”

You smile at him. You mean what you say completely. “I’ve already told him and the people who hired me for the job that I wasn’t going to work with him anymore. They already went through more than their fair share of guards before me, so I don’t know how successful they’ll be getting another.”

All three of you sit in a quiet moment. Taehyung zones out looking at your bruises, you seem to be okay and you’re acting like you normally would but thinking of you in pain hurts Taehyung’s chest. Jungkook’s mind races with different things. His thoughts wander, going from enjoying sitting next to you and Taehyung, to debating confessing all of his thoughts and questions, to wanting the world to swallow him whole at the thought of talking about anything other than completely friendly and safe topics.

You lean your head back. “I know your company pays my check and everything but, I like spending time with you guys and I’m glad you don’t seem to completely hate me and are okay with being… friends.”

“You hesitated,” Taehyung says.

“There are a few reasons.” You think. You nod your head. “It’s a bit weird calling my bosses my friends, I guess. I do think of you as friends. I’m a lot closer to you two than most everybody.”

They both smile at you, then at each other, before the three of you go back to the quiet.

After a few more minutes of near silence, with each of you flipping between different thoughts but not telling anyone them. You breathe in deeply, seconds away from going for it, and spilling everything you’re holding back but Taehyung breaks first.

“So, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk about.” He starts. He clears his throat. His shoulders are tense and the air around him is heavy. “I think it’s something all of us want to say but we’re afraid to, at least I am.”

You lean your chin up an inch with your eyebrows pulling together. “What’s going on?”

Taehyung breathes out deeply from his nose. You can see Jungkook staring at his lap from the corner of your eyes. Taehyung looks in your eyes. He’s normally confident, staggering, he walks into a room and people take notice. But now, as he’s sitting in front of you, despite maintaining eye contact, his face is flushed and he’s breathing heavy.

“I like you. I like both of you.” He explains, mouth forming something between a frown and a smile. “I’ve had a small crush on Jungkook since god-knows-when and I think I fell for you pretty quickly. I hope I’m not overstepping, but the way Jungkook looks at you and gets flustered at everything I say, it was pretty easy to see his feelings, and you are naturally quiet and protective but it felt like a lot more pretty suddenly and I don’t think you can deny the look you get when you see Jungkook or when someone mentions him. I feel like all of us are stepping around each other. I can’t say for how you two feel about me but I like you and you two have feelings for each other.”

You break eye contact and rub your palms against your thighs. “I was hoping it wasn’t obvious.”

“You’re pretty good at hiding your emotions and your expressions but I pay much closer attention to you than I do others.” Taehyung smiles. “Jungkook?”

Jungkook sits silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t look up from his lap. “Yes?”

“Do you have anything to say?” Taehyung asks.

“I didn’t know I was that obvious.” He mumbles. “I’m embarrassed, I guess. Confused. I don’t know how to deal with this.”

Taehyung pulls his shoulders up. “I don’t either. I don’t think any of us do, but if we don’t share and talk about it, we might walk around each other, and nothing will go right.”

You look over at Jungkook. “I think he’s right. Dealing with the awkwardness and embarrassment of these next few minutes will be better than pretending our feelings don’t exist.”

Jungkook nods and slides down the couch. “Yeah. So, where do we start?”

*

Thousands of stars twinkle in the sky above you. Even though you wouldn’t be situated on the roof you’re on without something filming the boys, something in you wants the crew and the lights and the surrounding buildings to be gone for an even clearer view. You lean back on your hands, searching for any visible constellations or prominent stars.

The music playing for the boys shakes the building. Hoseok’s part plays on repeat and he half-raps most of the words, acting at the camera until the director feels they have a good enough shot. You look around, spotting Jungkook getting touched up by the makeup artist and Taehyung chatting with Yoongi.

You lay back, left arm dangling off the edge of the building. The forceful wind sweeps your hair to the side and sends a chill down your spine. If either of the boys were doing what you’re doing you would be attempting to corral them closer to the center of the roof but you can’t help but test your balancing skills.

Taehyung notices you and excuses himself. He sits next to you and leans on his elbows by your head.

“Be careful.” You warn, glancing up at his face without moving too much.

“Half of your body is dangling from a 30-story building.” He looks out at the city, lights from the buildings shining in his eyes. “You can go home if you want, we have enough people to watch us.”

You snort. “Like I’m going anywhere. I get paid to watch you two and lay here, pretty much how I spend my days off now anyway.”

Taehyung smiles at you. He looks around for a few seconds before kissing the top of your head. A smile dances on your face, causing Taehyung’s grin to widen until his cheeks hurt. He turns around and leans his head back. He bumps his head against yours and looks up at the sky.

“I wish they were brighter.”

“Too many buildings.” You hum. “We’d have to go somewhere further out.”

Taehyung turns his head. He can’t see your face but can see your left-hand dancing in the wind and your right foot tapping along with the music. “We should find a place. Maybe our next date spot?”

He can’t see your smile, but he can feel it.

“That sounds nice.”

Taehyung sits up. He looks around one more time before leaning to kiss your cheek. “And we wouldn’t have to worry about people seeing us when I do that.”

[pearl-blue-musings]

Good Trouble pt. 1

Hi Hi

Thank you to @styxtm for giving me the courage to go through with this story. It’s one I’ve spent lots of time mulling over, so like with my other stories it’ll be slow updates! 

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs 

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of guns and killing

Hope you enjoy!

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

The door unlocks, letting the stale air of the apartment hit your face in comparison to the warm air outside. You sigh heavily as you set your bag down on the bench near the entrance way. Work had been intense, more than usual but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. However, upon entering your apartment your eyes were on red alert. Your years of training haven’t failed you, despite not wanting to use your honed skills or needing to recently.

The bench you placed your bag on was just a couple centimeters off from where it usually sits. You noticed the coloring on the floor to be slightly off, causing you to silence your steps as you make your way into the kitchen. The staleness seemed off as you close your eyes to heighten your sense of smell. Musty cologne. That’s what it is; a smell you haven’t smelled in a long time. You stalk along the counter, having your back turned away from the fridge and hallway.

That’s when you hear it.

To the common ear, it would have gone unnoticed, but you heard the breath of someone you haven’t wanted to see ever again. Before they could attack, you swiftly grab the knife to your left and elbow the stranger behind you. He’s hunched over and you grab at his neck to pin him against the wall with the knife at his throat.

“Easy, kid! You wouldn’t kill me would you?”

Your eyes darken as the knife pushes closer to his throat.

“Ah ah, that’s not your style (Y/n). You don’t kill. Never have. So let me go, yeah?”

You scoff, feeling the sweat gather at your brow from your actions and frustrations. You let him go, allowing the man to catch his breath. Still on edge, you keep your knife near you as you slide it up your sleeve to free your hands. You place them on your hips as you watch the man who has defended you when no one else would.

“What is it, Toono?”

He doesn’t miss the hiss in your voice as his eyes soften at you. “That’s no way to treat me after all I’ve done for you and your father! Yipe!”

He feels the air blow by him quickly as the knife that was up your sleeve was now in the wall behind him, right by his ear. Toono’s eyes turn to his left to see where the knife could have hurt him. He turns to you, seeing your pissed off expression and steps away from the weapon.

Toono clears his throat as he presses on. “Anyways, your old man has a job for you-“

“Not interested.”

“But you’re the best and everyone knows it.”

You step up to him quickly, placing your forearm on his throat to hold him in place. “As I’ve said many, many times: I’m done. I want nothing to do with that man. You of all people should know that.”

The older man doesn’t miss the hiss and crack in your voice as you turn away from him. It’s unfortunate, but he does know better. Hell, he was the one who helped you get your own place and escape the clutches of your father, for now at least. He looks to your hunched over figure, noticing your slight tremor in your left hand as you hold onto your self harder.

Toono’s instincts to protect you kicked in when he sees your disposition. “Kid, are you okay? Your hand is-“

“Toono I’m fine!” You yell out, “now please. Please leave.”

He breathes deeply before scavenging for something in his pocket. He gently taps you on the shoulder to catch your gaze and study your face, maybe for the last time. “You have no choice, (Y/n). He’ll kill me if I still have this file and information on me and that you aren’t helping.”

You ignore his pleas as his hand is held out to you with the manila folder.

“Please kid! You gotta take this. It’s either take this job, or your father will kill me to kill you.”

You unclench your fists and relax your shoulders. Toono isn’t a person who would come to see you for no reason, or without good intentions. If he’s coming to you directly that means it must be of the utmost importance to whatever it is your father has planned for the world. You wordlessly take the folder and try to commit it to memory.

“Dazai Osamu. Why does my father want this guy out of the picture?”

You study his profile for a bit before landing on his picture. Armed Detective Agency? Port Mafia? Why hadn’t you heard of these places or people before? It’s true you’re relatively new to the city, but these names seem and sound legendary. You’re shocked to see that your father doesn’t know his ability, only that it can hinder his process. You ignore the funny feeling in your stomach as you continue to study your target.

You may be a hired help for your dad, but you never killed. It’s not that you couldn’t; you absolutely could. But you made the conscious choice to not to. It left a sick feeling in your stomach at the thought of taking another person’s life, despite the evils they may have done or aided in. Oh how your father wanted you to kill, but that was one disposition he could never beat with you.

All it took for you to give up killing was tracking someone involved with the government. You had the gun in your hand, ready to stealthily kill the corrupt worker when a tall man with tan walked into your visual. When your eyes met, including your targets, something in you broke. Who was this man you had to kill? He could have family and friends that would miss him; what if the roles were reversed? Your left hand faltered as two pairs of eyes stare at you wondering what your next move was going to be.

The sound of metal clanking against the ground of the alleyway had broken you from your stupor. The taller man had carefully approached you, wiping away at your tears and wrapped you in a secure hug. You miss him wave off your target but you didn’t care. He could live and still be miserable for all you knew; I mean was he really corrupt or was that something spun by your father?

You had been so caught up in your head you missed the stranger asking you questions. His soothing voice brought you back to reality.

“Hey, what’s your name and what’s your business with my friend here?”

You met his gaze and notice how nice his dark brown eyes look under the streetlight. You stuttered over your words before fumbling out, “It’s (Y/n). I don’t trust you with my surname. I’m, er I was, supposed to kill him but… I couldn’t.”

The man next to you chuckled as he urged the two of you off the ground. He led you away from the light and into an abandoned alleyway to continue your conversation. You hadn’t given up too much information but you began to feel comfortable around the stranger that had calmed you down.

“You kill for you father?” His voice calm and soothing as he handed you a piece of candy.

You nodded in thanks and whisper. “This was supposed to be my first one. If you hadn’t stopped me- Wait how did you stop me? You shouldn’t have seen me!”

His laugh, a laugh you never wanted to forget as years went on. “It’s my ability. I had a feeling something bad was going to happen after we grabbed our usual drinks so I tailed him.”

A small breath had left your lips as you eat the candy the man had given you. You rested your head against the cold brick wall as your thoughts ran wild. This was your first assignment for him and you failed. All of your training, all of your stealth work was supposed to lead up to this but you failed; your mission was incomplete. Your boss wouldn’t accept that. Your father wouldn’t accept that. “Why are you talking to me, I tried to kill your friend.”

“I hate killing.”

You were surprised at his honesty and turned to him staring up into what he could see of the night sky. “I may work for questionable people but I will never kill. And I could sense that in you too.

“I’m Oda Sakunosuke and if you’d let me I’d like to help you.”

The sound of your microwave beeping brought you back to the present after remembering your first failed killing. You never killed after that, but you would only be called to trail, track, and scout for your boss. For some reason, he didn’t make you kill; you thought briefly that maybe your father had a soft side. But you weren’t keeping your hopes up. You open up the microwave, grabbing your instant dinner and return to the table to eat. You stare again at the file Toono left you. There’s something about the look in this person’s eye that unnerves you but calms you in a weird way.

“Dazai Osamu,” you muse out loud, “just what trouble are you going to cause me?”

[mickmarstookmyheart]

Life's a Sick Joke pt 15

Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader

15. Bark at the Moon

Summary: Mötley Crüe joins Ozzy on his tour. Finally, someone scolds down the band while the person who is the most 'innocent', gets in trouble.

∆

"I see the holidays went well." Vince smirked when he noticed you and Mick approaching the tour bus in the parking lot. You were smiling from ear-to-ear because you haven't felt so good for months, also the Crüe joins Ozzy, and this way you can spend more time with Sharon. She truly helped a lot with your brother and since it's only a few weeks until Dylan gets out of jail she will be able to tell you some pieces of advice.

"Indeed." You said, your brand new camera hanging on your neck. Mick placed a soft kiss on your forehead and headed to pack the bags on the bus. You hugged Vince and got on the bus, he following you. When you got on board, you saw Nikki and Tommy in a booth already doing drugs. You sighed but stood beside them anyway. "Hey, guys." You uttered giving them a judging look.

Tommy lifted his head and his eyes lit up when he saw you. He stood up and gave you a big bear hug you couldn't even breathe from his grip. "It's so good to see you, (Y/N). I've missed you." He murmured in your hair.

"Me, too, but can you let me go, please? I-I can't breathe." You mumbled and gasped for air when he let you free and sat back to Nikki. He didn't even glance at you just kept doing lines. "What's up, Nikki? Are you ready?" You hit him in the shoulder playfully.

"Yeah." He rubbed his nose. This tour will be unforgettable but not in a good way. Not to mention Ozzy. The guys worshiped him as a god or something.

"Cool." You settled down behind the bus driver and waited for Mick and Doc to finally got on and set off to this madness. You weren't worried about the concerts, more like the things happening after those. The parties, the drugs, and the booze. This will have a bad ending. Or middle...

"Hello, (Y/N)." Doc greeted you and looked over the guys. He made an 'i can't make it through' face which you could relate with.

"Hey, Doc." You tried to smile and cheer him up, unsuccessfully.

"I hope we will survive, (Y/N)." He huffed sitting down and burying his face into his hands.

"We will don't worry. I just don't know with what kind of injuries." You hummed.

∆

"So he has three children?" Vince gasped as he was consuming his food in the canteen of the hotel. It was nearly noon so plenty of customers were spending their time there. You could hear people murmuring, the forks and spoons hitting the plates.

"Shut up, Vin. Nobody can know about that." You hissed through your teeth and glanced around to see if anyone could hear that.

"Sorry. But really? I knew he is old and all but I didn't think he is a father. He isn't father material." He chuckled. You kicked his foot under the table making him groan. "Hey! What was that for?!"

"Mick is a so much better father material than you. And you don't know the circumstances." You took a sip from your coffee. Not that you knew properly.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He sighed and started to observe your face. "Did something happened?" He tilted his head.

"It's just..." You hooked your feet around the chair legs and were drumming your fingers on the table. "Did you know Mick was the one who got me the job?" You asked quietly.

"What?" Vince frowned his brows. "I thought Doc hired you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. But while we were at his parents' house I heard them talking about me. And that Mick talked with Doc to give me the job. And I'm happy, truly, but...I don't know. Maybe I would just have to accept it." You twirled your fork in your food.

"Look, (Y/N). I don't think Mick was the only reason. You are a great photographer, a great person and you make Mick happy. I think these are more than enough reasons." He cracked a smile and placed his hands on yours.

"Thank you, Vinnie." He managed to calm down a bit, though that thought didn't let you rest.

∆

"Tommy fucking Lee, come here!" You exclaimed while trying to catching up with him in the corridor. He stole your camera giving you a heart attack every time he jumped or dropped it in the air. "GIVE IT BACK!"

"Catch me if you can, Cooper." He snickered and turned in the corner disappearing from your sight. When you turned, too, you bumped into Tommy's back. You rubbed your nose and stepped aside to see why he stopped. Sharon was standing in front of him with crossed arms and stomping feet.

"Oh my, Sharon! Praise Satan, you are here." You let out a long breath both from the running and relief. You walked over to her and hugged her. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too, (Y/N)! How is your brother?" She asked resting her hand on your shoulder.

"He is getting better and better. Thanks to you." You smiled gratefully.

"I'm glad I could help...not another inch Mr. Lee!" She yelled. Tommy stopped as he was trying to escape. "Give the camera back to her."

"No." He murmured pressing it to his chest.

"What did you say?" Sharon required while staring right into the drummer's eyes. 

"That...oh come on, I was just kidding. You are such a buzz to kill." Tommy scoffed and handed you back your working equipment. Tommy turned around and turned in the corner, getting out of sight. You sighed and rubbed your nose from annoyance and tiredness.

"And it's only the second day, Sharon. I don't know how I will make this through." You complained making the woman chuckle.

"Don't worry, darling. Just leave it to me. Everything will go smooth, I promise." She winked encouragingly.

"I hope you are right."

You really did hope. All the stupid stuff they could do was countless and their purpose was to try them all, making all the people around them annoyed, feared, and fed up, hopefully not injured. However, with Sharon by your side, the tour, will be a piece of cake.

∆

Three weeks already passed and you have been to many interesting and new places you have never been to. The only constant thing was traveling, sitting on the bus, packing the pieces of equipment off and on the bus, running backstage if either of them needed anything. You were a photographer, of course, you just helped the crew out occasionally which they thanked very much with grateful smiles and great company after the concerts.

If you could, you didn't attend the parties which were not that rad, thanks to Sharon. She let neither Ozzy, not the Crüe to buy and do drugs and merely drink booze. You and Mick often went for a walk nearby the hotel to kill time or stayed and relaxed in the spa section or your room. You had the time of your life and you felt like the luckiest girl alive. Working for a rock band, being the girlfriend for a kind, generous and hot guitarist; and lastly having your brother back the next day. You were eagerly waiting backstage just before the concert started. You were walking in circles when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, are you alright?" Mick asked as you turned around to face him. He cupped your face with his big hands and pecked your lips which never failed to melt your heart. You sighed as you placed your hands on his.

"Yeah. I just-Dylan will get out of jail on Thursday and I can't wait to meet him, that's all. There are many things I would like to tell him."

"I'm sure everything will be just fine. And I will stand beside you no matter what." His lips curved into a smile and you couldn't how lucky you were. He always listened to your problems, helped you with everything you needed, and even introduced you to his family. You almost managed to let go of the thing that was nagging you and just tried to live in the present.

"Thank you, it means a lot to me." You whispered and pressed your forehead to his while you intertwined your hands. You stayed like this until you heard footsteps and loud groaning.

"I can't believe that we can't have 5 fucking moments." Mick cursed and tightened his jaw.

"Hey, Mick! Let's go!" Tommy yelled so loudly you needed to press your hands on your ears so as not to get deaf. He drummed on the wall with his sticks as the other members arrived, too. Nikki looked clean, though you doubted since he didn't even look at you. You began to worry, maybe he was mad at you, but why? You didn't do anything.

"Come, (Y/N)!" Vince hang his arm around your shoulder and followed Tommy. "Make some marvelous photos of us." He smirked. You glanced back at Mick who just shook his head but smiled. You couldn't help it, Vince was just Vince. "Also, there is someone who is eager to see you."

"Who?" You asked turning to him when you felt two cold hands folding your eyes.

"Guess who!" Isabelle giggled as you saw, well, rather hear her. You hugged her tightly, almost choking her. Being in her embrace made you forget everything around you. Never leaving her side for years and now not seeing her for months made you sorrowful, yet proud that she went to college and is standing on her own.

"What are you doing here?" You inquired with wide eyes.

"You didn't think I will let you and Dylan have two quiet minutes without me, right?" She chuckled and pulled you back into her embrace once more. "I've missed you." She muffled in your hair.

"Me, too."

"She meant 'we'." Mick noted as he caught up with you in the meantime. He opened his arms and hugged your sister.

"Hey, Mick." She greeted the guitarist. "What's up?"

"Nothing much." He said as he pulled her in a sideways hug and headed towards the stage just as Vince did previously. He looked back and smirked leaving you there with a pout on your lips. Nevertheless, you adored both of them and would kill for them instantly. You sighed and followed the others as the concert could start at any moment now. You arrived at the same moment Vince ran on the stage with huge steps after the others got their instruments. The crowd was more than ready and they got what they wanted. More than they wanted.

This time you weren't alone since your sister was in your steps like a puppy but you didn't mind at all. You even let her take some photos with your camera, yet you took it back quickly after she almost managed to drop it. When your eyes wandered to Tommy he looked quite shocked when he noticed your sister. Considering, he fell in love with her then later 'lost' her. You just hoped that he accepted that your sister wouldn't return his feelings. Pity, though since Tommy was the only guy you would be happy to see your sister with. Not Vinnie, not Nikki.

When the show finished and the audience was prepared for Ozzy, the guys stormed offstage. They were hyped up and powerful and were ready to party.   Mick approached you and pulled you in a sweaty kiss, not that you minded. Vinnie made an 'eww' sound earning a hit from your sister in his shoulder.

"They are so cute, don't dare to deny it." She threatened playfully making you and Mick snicker.

"Hey, Iz, are you coming to the party?" Tommy asked shyly with puppy eyes.

"I don't know, Tommy." She pouted and then turned to you with the same puppy eyes as Tommy. "Can I?"

"Ahh. Alright." You eye-rolled and sighed. 

"Thank you, sis!" Isabelle cheered along with Tommy.

"But behave yourselves." You held up a finger earning quick nods from them.

"Then can I?" Tommy asked Isabelle who looked confused but then the drummer gestured at his back.

"Yeah, sure." She jumped on his back and left shouting.

"I can't believe them. I'm starting to feel like some kind of parent now." You let out a long breath.

"Just now?"

∆

"Alrighty, Isabelle. Truth or dare?" Tommy asked.

"Not this game, again!" She complained.

"Don't kill the mood!" Nikki added. "Come play with us. It will be fun, I promise."

"(Y/N) already told me stories about playing this game with you and it didn't turn out as good." She stated.

"But you are much funnier than her." Vince chuckled and took a sip from his beer.

"Okay, you convinced me. Then let it be truth."

"You are soooo booooring." Vince rolled his eyes while laying down on the floor.

"Hey, you asked."

"I can't believe it. Is this some Cooper thing to say this? It runs in your veins." Nikki muttered.

"Tommy, truth or dare?" Isabelle asked turning to him.

"That's not how it works. It's still your turn." He pointed out frowning.

"I don't care. So?" She had a wicked smile on her face.

"Dare, motherfuckers!" He yelled.

"Fuck, yeah, man!" Vince shouted along as Nikki gave a high-five to Tommy.

"Yes, T-Bone!"

"Okay, tell me what should I do."

∆

"Finally, in bed." Mick muttered into the pillow next to you while you were already on the edge of sleep. It was quite late now and you had to get up early the next morning to be able to pack your stuff and pick up Dylan. He snuggled to your back and placed his arm on your waist and pulled you closer. You smiled at his touch and then fell asleep.

A half an hour could pass when Mick heard loud crashing noises from the corridor.

"No way. I will kill these idiots." He cursed and got out of bed with only a boxer on him trying to scold them down until you get kicked out of this hotel, too. He glanced back at you seeing you didn't even flinch, just kept sleeping. He cautiously opened the door and closed it after himself. He noticed Tommy running towards him almost naked. "Stop it, you idiot!" He hissed through his teeth.

"No way, old man!" He laughed and kept harassing people. He tried not to blow up and start to run after him with a gun but then two cups approached him panting.

"Sir, stop right there." One of them required.

"I beg your pardon?" Mick arched his brow, not understanding.

"Sir, we got a call that a rocker man with long black hair and only a boxer is harassing people in this hotel." He said and the other pulled out a handcuff and put it on Mick.

"But that...I will kill you, drummer." He murmured already planning the various methods.

"Please, not in front of cops." The officer said while escorting Mick to the car.

∆

"(Y/N). (Y/N)! Come on, wake up." Doc was standing by your bed his hand on your shoulder shaking it in order to wake you up.

"What is it?" You murmured into your pillow. "It's already 6 am?"

"No, it's not. But there is a problem." He hesitated.

"It has to be a big problem cause I'm not in the mood, Doc." You growled sitting up and preparing yourself to hear the worst.

"Mick was just taken away by the cops."

"What?" You thought you misheard it. Or dreamed.

"He was arrested. For something he didn't do of course." He added rubbing the back of his head.

"Then it's not an emergency. He can wait. I thought you had a real reason, Doc. Go away and let me rest a bit." You snapped sleepily. It has been quite a rough day, week, and month.

∆

"Good morning, miss. How can I help you?" The cop asked at the entrance.

"There is someone who was brought in during the night and I would like to get him out from here." You smirked.

"This way, ma'am." He gestured toward the door on your left and opened it for you letting you first. You thanked with a nod and you noticed that there were only a few men there, most of them sleeping. "He is here, ma'am. As I'm concerned he didn't bring in any belongings with him. So as you are ready he is free to go." He said goodbye and let you find Mick. The prisoner. The criminal.

"Hey, there." You said trying your best not to laugh. Mick's eyes opened instantly and sat up as quick as he could.

"What took you so long?" He growled as he rose from the bed and stepped in front of you grabbing the bars. You bit down your lip and can't help but chuckle. "Don't dare to laugh. It's not funny."

"Yes, it is." You said and placed your hands on his. "But you know, I'm starting to get tired of visiting the prisons."

"Don't say another word just get me out of here."

"Or what?" You teased him. "I think I should tell the cop to handcuff you, you are being dangerous."

"Are you serious?" He sighed and rolled his eyes. "(Y/N), I just get back to the hotel, get dressed, and rest a bit only after I kill the drummer." He scoffed.

"I will help you if you want."∆

Taglist: @cmft-jr-winchester @safari-karrot @leatherandheels @crazyrockrlady ❤️

[eerythingisshaka]

On the Clock II

[Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Reader]

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings:  Adult Content

  Part 1

You check your makeup in your phone’s camera for the umpteenth time, setting any microscopic hair out of place back from whence it came

Yahya sighs.  “That light’s gonna blind my ass before we get there.  You look good already.”

You barely register what he says, looking for your lippie again.  “Last time I’m buying this color.  It’s getting patchy as we speak.”

Yahya rolls the steering wheels in his hand tightly as he pulls off the highway and down the calmer streets as the destination is announced on GPS.

“Patchy?  How does it get patchy when it goes on smooth?”  Yahya questions as he pulls into a parking space.

“Haha!  A question I wish the makeup industry would solve and eradicate, sir!  You drove too fast, hang on.  My nose is kind of shiny.”

Yahya turns off the engine and unbuckles himself.  “Uh uh, nope.  Put that down.”

He takes your compact in his hand and puts it in the glove compartment.  

“No, what are you doing!  You know my skin gets oily.”

He takes your hands, resting them on your lap.  “Your skin is glowy girl, not oily.  You not a piece of fried chicken.”

“Yahya…” You whine before he takes your chin looking straight into your eyes.

“But I ain’t afraid to bite, so chill out.  You are so fucking fine, it’s taking everything for me to not lay you out here and now.”

You lean back, feeling warm off his aggressive compliment  but fighting back your smile.  “You ain’t that bold...plus I’m starving, so take it easy before they give our table away.”

“That’s my girl.”  He kisses your cheek quickly as he gets out to open your door for you.  

Walking into the restaurant, it appears you all weren’t the only people looking forward to a fancy dinner. 

The small blonde hostess gives you a tense smile.  “How many?”

Yahya answers, “No ma’am, we have a reservation here: Abdul-Mateen?”

The woman looks over her tablet slowly.  You check the restaurant and start to get worried.

“Maybe we should just try somewhere else…”  you loudly whisper over the hustle and bustle.

“It’s fine, she’s got it there.  We’ll be sitting down sucking on crab and rigatoni and whatever else my baby wants,” he says each word with more baby talk accent then the last.

You roll your eyes as his lips pucker at you, squeezing his mouth for a more exaggerated pucker as you settle your mouth into his.

“Ahem, I’m sorry, we had a large party before you that is finishing up, so it should just be another 20 minutes.”

Yahya’s demeanor took a cool dip as he turned back to the hostess.  “My reservation was made well in advance, you don’t have a single table ready for us now?”

The hostess looks flustered as she looks around the dining hall behind her and talks into her earpiece.

You loop your arm around Yahya’s, studying his jaw tightening.  Seeing him being upset stressed you out so much.

“Yah, hey?”  You pat his chest softy until he faced you, glad to see him taking a deep breath.  “I thought I was the only one being a mess tonight, remember?”  you say jokingly.

“This isn’t mess, it’s business.  I can’t control this but they damn sure can fix it.”

You bite your lip anxiously.  “I know, but it’s fine.”

He checks his phone.  “We won’t have time to see the movie at this rate.”

The hostess comes back.  “I apologize again but we are working to clear a table right now.  Please wait by the bar if you wish.”

“You got ten minutes.”  He says in a managerial tone, taking your hand to head over to the bar.  You sit quietly as Yahya orders something brown.  “You want your usual?”  he asks.

You take out your phone shaking your head.  “I want my baby.”

Yahya leans over with a sly smirk.  “I’m right here…” he says, as he plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You squirm away.  “You know what I mean!  I’m just going to check on our daughter.”  You access the nanny cam app on your phone to see how things are at home before Yahya nabs your phone.

“Uh!  Nope we aren’t parents for the next couple hours.  Let the girl do her job, so I can do mine.”

He puts the phone in his pants pocket as you whine.  “Yahya stop!  It’s for safety!”

“It’s for coddling your paranoia, now calm down.  Take a sip.”  He offers you his drink but your refuse in a huff.

“I want my phone, Yahya.  I’m not playing.”  

Yahya takes another sip of his drink, setting it down in front of you.  His smile widens as he turns to you, spreading his legs.  

“You wanna come get it?”

You stare at him with deadly purpose as he just laughs in your face, crossing his arms patiently.  Your eyes roll down to his lap with slight curiosity if it was your phone or if he was just happy to see you. 

Instead, you pick up the glass and let the liquid run through your body.  “I haven’t had dinner yet, so don’t try it.”

A while later the in house band plays some cover of Stevie Wonder, making Yahya twist with delight. 

“Oh SHIT.  Baby come on, let’s dance.”

You freeze at the thought as his hands reach around to rub your shoulders and puppet you to the music.

“Can you check with the hostess if the table is ready yet?”  You ask deslerately before you are pulled to your feet.  Yahya moves his hips like a salsa dancer pulling you in for a spin and holding you close.  You can’t help but giggle at how light he makes you feel in his arms.

“I ain’t worried, they just have to wait on us now.  How’s that?”  He takes your hands leading you into some intricate two stepping you weren’t prepared for but thoroughly enjoyed.  You all catch the attention of the others waiting at the bar and claps ensue as your dance turns into hired entertainment for the restaurant.  

Yahya hoots every time you spin.

“Girl if you had eyes on the back of your head, maybe you would understand,” he says before giving your behind an ample squeeze.

You bit his ear a little hard until he lets you go in shock.  You smile, giving him a body roll for good measure.

“That’s my knockout.  Come through Tyson!”  Yahya exclaims, pulling you in once more for a final dip as the band finishes and applause carries around you all.  You feel elation as he picks you up again quickly, holding you tight.

“Baby,” he says in your ear.

You hold him tight around the waist.  “I feel amazing, thank you hun.  I haven’t danced like that in forever.”

Yahya rubs your back with one hand, inching his arm out of his jacket.  “That’s good, put this on.”

You smile at him with confusion.  “Why? I’m not cold.”

He wraps his jacket around you anyway taking you to the bar.

“Abdul-Mateen, table for 2!”  the hostess yells.

You grab your purse.  “That’s us!”  you excitedly head to be seated.

“Baby, wait!  I’ll get the table, you go to the restroom, ok?”

Now you’re really confused.  “But...I don’t have to pee…”

Yahya’s eyes search yours for an answer before he snaps his fingers.  “Well yeah, I don’t know that, but your makeup, right?  Don’t you wanna recheck it or something after dancing?”

You think of the patchiness of our lippie and spring into action.  “You right, good looking out!  I’ll be back.”

You trot to the back and follow the arrow pointing to the ladies entrance.  The heavy wooden door opens to a warmly lit, floral scented restroom with sink basins that rest on top of the counters.  You open your purse while checking your reflection, rubbing your lips together only to realize your color is perfectly intact.  You wrinkle your nose at this fact and why Yahya mentioned your makeup in the first place until you lift your chin and the light catches your glistening skin.

“Shit.  Damn oil.”  Your compact is still in the car so you take his jacket off to cool down and reach for a paper towel to blot the shine away.

“Fried chicken...he tryna keep me looking crispety crunchety for sure....” You mutter under your breath before stepping back to look yourself over.  

“What the...oh hell no!”  Your eyes stop at your chest as your notice stains of moisture through your dress.  Although your baby was almost weaned, your body hasn’t fully gotten the cue to stop producing.  

You grab additional paper towels, frantically dabbing inside your dress and wiping the outside, making more bits of paper stick to your dress rather than cleaning the mess.  Tossing the towels away, you pace in frustration.  Yahya knew what happened and said nothing, why wouldn’t he say something?  You angrily pick up his jacket as someone enters the bathroom and put it on.

Back at the table, Yahya looks up from his to wave you over but you only look at him and head for the exit.  Two steps onto the pavement, Yahya has already caught up to you.

“Whoa, hey.  What’s up?”  Yahya says, stopping in front of you.

You sigh heavily.  “We don’t have time to eat.  I want to go to the movie.”

Yahya scoffs with ease.  “Babe, it’s fine.  We can at least eat appetizers and take it to go.”

You cross your arms, tapping your foot.  Looking from under him, your personality grew 10 feet taller.  “I wouldn’t know what the time is because you have my phone!”

Yahya’s sunny disposition sinks at your tone.  “Come on now, I just don’t want you so distracted on our night out.”

“And now I got this mess all over my dress.  I just wanted to have a good time.”

Yahya pulls you into him, giving you long drawn out shushing.  “Now the night ain’t even over yet and you throwing in the towel?  That’s not how my baby moves.”

You groan under his chin.  “I guess.”

He looks down at you.  “Now come on.  I don’t wanna bring up a sore subject but...Imma need you to say it with your chest.”

You go to pop him upside the head but he moves out the way too fast.

“And now you tryna run?  Whatcha running for Yah?!”  you yell after him as he hikes it to the car.

He runs backwards away from you, looking back to check for the car.  “That’s it baby, I hear you, come on so we can catch this movie!”

---

Pulling up to the theater, you both rush up to the box office requesting two tickets to the last showing of Disaster in the Sky Pt. 7.  

“I thought we were seeing Four Letter Word?”  you ask as he opens the door to your auditorium.  

Yahya whispers.  “We may have just missed the last showing, but this oughta be good.  Can’t fall asleep in a sky disaster.”

As you take your seats, it didn’t take but ten minutes for you to know that this is not the movie for you.  The acting was terrible, special effects were juvenile, and wasn’t the dumb big tit blonde archetype dated?

“You want me to get us some popcorn babe?”  Yahya asks quietly, eyes transfixed on the screen.

“No, I’ll get it.  Gimme your card.”  

Yahya digs in his pockets and hands it to you without blinking.  The lobby is dead quiet with one lone employee working snacks. You ask for the large popcorn and candy as your stomach gurgles over the smell of hot butter in the air.  After some extra pumps of butter, you slip the candy in his jacket pocket and head back to your seat.  

At first it’s hard to see but a cell phone glow that is normally unwelcome, happened to be your man’s beacon for you.  As you sit down, you notice his look of concern on his face.  

“What’s wrong?”  you ask, trying to look over at his screen.  

“Uhh...well the babysitter called but I missed it so I’m texting her.”

You sit up in your seat.  “What do you mean she called?  What did she want?”

Yahya’s face senses your stress but tries to remain cool.  “Baby, I don’t know, so I’m texting-”

“SHHH!”  a patron of the theater hisses.

“Yahya, you don’t text after a missed call.  Call her.”

“I’m not trying to stop our-”

“Gimme my phone, now!”  You hold out your hand as he reaches in his other pocket for it.  When you check your screen, you see two missed calls.

“YAH!  She called me too!”  You drop the popcorn and run out of the theater, past the snack stand and onto the sidewalk outside.  The sitter’s phone rings and rings until finally you hear he pick up.  

“HEY!  Yeah, what’s up we got your calls?”  Yahya strides next to you, hands on his hips waiting with bated breath.  

“Uh huh….uh huh...yeah that’s fine.”  You hold your forehead with the cold side of your hand to calm yourself.  “And I’m sorry can you put her on FaceTime real quick?”  You hold the phone out until your baby girl is on screen.  “Hi, Lei!  I miss you!  Mommy will be home soon!”  She coos with a ring toy in her mouth, barely acknowledging you.  You thank the sitter again and hang up before bursting into tears.

Yahya is at your side, hugging you tight.  “Come on, it’s alright.  She’s fine.”

You sniffle through your words.  “I don’t know what I thought would be but I just...panicked.”

“It’s ok, I was too.”

You look up at him.  “Where?  You were still enjoying the movie and texting her at the same time while I ran up out of there like I stole something!”

Yahya wipes a tear away.  “I don’t know where you thought I was being cool.  I just couldn’t move from my spot as fast as you.  No way in hell was I thinking bout that movie, that movie’s dumb.”

“Really?  I thought it was dumb too, but you looked like you liked it.”

Yahya shrugs cooly.  “I like anything you put on a screen that big with surround sound that shakes your chair.  But the night wasn’t about a movie, it was about seeing you and being with you on a lowkey romantic evening.”

You feel yourself getting upset again and look up at the stars for reassurance.  “And don’t get me started on that.  Yahya, I fucking milked my damn self tonight.”

“Yeah that was...wow,”  is all Yahya could utter.

You squint at him with forced anger.  “That was your damn fault.  When I was supposed to eat, you got me up dancing and my body just shocked itself into lactation.”

Yahya takes your hand in his, examining the rock on your finger.  “I didn’t mind it.  You and anything your body does is beautiful.”

You snort, wiping your nose.  “Yeah, while I’m blubbering snot over my baby, I bet I’m real cute.” 

The doors to the theater open as a showing lets out around you, you move out of there way against Yahya.  

“God, let’s go.  I’m so embarrassed.”

But Yahya doesn’t move however, holding you out in his arms you look at him with confusion.  

“In front of all these people, I want you to know that you are the love of my life!  I love you from the top of your head to the tip of your toenails!”

Yahya is practically screaming as you watch him wide eyed, trying to ignore the crowd slowing down to watch.

“Baby, ever since I met you you have been the cream in my coffee, the pillow for my head, my mint when my breath is funky!  And because you love me and all I am, I want to push that same devotion and love back onto you tenfold.”

He shrinks down on one knee and looks up at you, taking your hand like an R&B superstar with a fan.  You sigh to keep from laughing.

“Roxanne, Roxanne...I wanna be your man!  Will you marry me and have my baby?”

You throw your head back in agony over his cheesy lines but his act was still convincing enough.  

“Yes, Jody.  I love you so much!”  your Roxanne persona says as he picks you up and spins you around.  The crowd cheers with applause as you kiss one another.  Holding his face in your hand, you smack his cheek playfully.  

“What were you thinking?”  you say through your teeth.

Yahya smiles back.  “Getting you back in my car to celebrate our matrimony!”  

You feel so much better walking back to the car after Yahya’s outburst.  Looking up at his profile, you nuzzle his shoulder appreciatively.

“That proposal may have outdid your first one.  I knew your childish ways were good for something.”

“It don’t matter to me, long as I make you smile.”  Once you’re by the car, he turns you around and nudges you back, leaning his hand on the roof.  He stares at you like a precious gemstone as his eyes sparkle and dance around your face.  

“What?  You have something to say to me?” you ask, feeling butterflies creep up your throat.

Yahya takes your hand in his, kissing the back of it.  “This was one of the best evenings I had with you ever.”

You roll your eyes.  “Stop lying.  I don’t like liars.”

His thumb rolls over the knuckles of your hand as he cartoonishly agrees.  “Pssh, duh, I don’t either.  But I’m not lying.”  He touches your cheek, stealing your focus.  “The way you looked when I spun you around the room at the restaurant, oooh girl, that smile has more spark than a plug!”

You grin and lowkey hate yourself for doing it on cue of his praise.  But he was on a roll and you ached for more.

“And don’t think at any point tonight you weren’t the baddest mama anyone could ever have.  When you thought things were going down with the sitter, I’m just glad I locked the gat at home cuz you were finna set it off!”

You puff your shoulders for emphasis.  “Cuz nobody better mess with my baby!”  You wrap your arms around his neck, landing a kiss along his jaw.  “Not even you.”

He gives a rich laugh that only comes out for you when he starts to feeling a little nasty.  “Oh, but I don’t get no protection?”

You shake your head.  “None.  You can handle yourself,”

The kiss you share is erotic.  Tongues flipping around one another as Yahya’s hands reach under his jacket you’re wearing, pulling you against him with a soft moan.  

“Come here,”  he says as you follow him to the back of the car, he lifts you on the trunk.  He settles between your legs, rubbing his wide hands across your hips and ass, tonguing down your neck.  You arch against him, opening your eyes to stars above you and slowly leaning back as you caress the back of his head.  Yahya takes his fingers inside the fabric covering your breast to expose your nipple to him.

“You wanna bet I can get something from you?”  Yahya twiddles with your nipple to bring it erect.

“I doubt, but try it anyway,” you say with a wink.  He cups your mound as he licks around your areola then latching his thick lips around it.

As you writhe under him, Yahya leads his hands between your legs, feeling you through your tights.  

“I told you not to wear these,”  he growls, sticking both hands under your dress to pull them and your panties down with one swoop, making you yip in shock.

You try to close your legs, but Yahya wide frame doesn’t allow it.  “No,no wait.  I’m not fucking in public!”

Yahya looks around the car to the surrounding area.  “Nobody’s here.  They all still in the movie.”  Without waiting for your answer, he spreads your legs wider until your thighs are almost lying flat on either side of you like a butterflied chicken.

“Yahya, wait.  I still-”

When his head disappears below you, you felt your defeat crash over you like a tsunami.  His tongue never lies unless its lying down on some pussy.  He wriggles his tongue between your lips with expert level speed.  You can’t relax enough to grab hold of his head, so you claw desperately at the window behind you.  His strength is put to use to keep your legs from crushing his skull.

“Oh, fuck!  Oh fuck!”  is all you can say.  When he does you like this, you want to beat his ass, and that’s how he likes it.  When he comes up for air, he keeps one hand in you and the other unbuckling his pants.

“Whatchu mad for?  Huh?”  he asks.

You put one foot to his chest to shove him back, lifting yourself up by your elbows.  “You’re a damn fool, surprising yourself on me like this.”

He takes your ankle, pushing your leg back.  “I’m the one surprised.  I almost slipped down there.  You been wet this whole time?” You help take his dick out his pants, giving your hand some spit to stroke his hardened shaft.

“I ain’t giving you the satisfaction of knowing,”  you say through your teeth, taking pleasure in him biting his lip to fight the pleasure of your hand on his third leg.  

“You’ll give it to me,”  he says, pulling you closer to him as your leg rests on his shoulder, keeping the other one wrapped around his waist.  You keep a hand to his stomach in anticipation but he moves it, pushing into you slowly, you feel your chill break down completely.  Your head throws back as you mold yourself to him inch by inch.

“Ah, shit. Make it quick, Yahya.  I don’t wanna be caught,” you say under his grip on your neck.

He pushes into you with a quick thrust that makes you howls, leg shaking against him.

“If you think you can shut up, I can,”  Yahya warns, picking up his strokes to meet your requirement.  You don’t want to cum so fast, but he makes it easy for you with his length curving right against you.

“Fuck!  Fuck!  It’s too much!”  you whine, pushing his chest to let up.  His hips spin into you instead, hitting you in a new angle that made your mouth wide and eyes cross.  Yahya knew what was coming when you tightened up on him and he smacks his hand over your mouth just in time.

You lose all strength, lying back and howl into his palm unable to do nothing but take it and ride it out.  No quicker way to touch the sky than some good dick.

“Yeah, give it to me.  I told you you were gonna give it to me,”  Yahya brags as you finish climaxing.  As Yahya pumps you harder, you find it within you to pull him down to you, licking his lips , his chin, and clawing at his back as you whine in his ear for him to cum inside you.

“I want it.  Give it to me, baby.  Show me you love it all.  Cream the fuck out this pussy.”

“Oh, I love it.  Shit!  Say that again,”  he groans.

“Cream this pussy.  Fill it up big daddy, I know you can.”

Yahya and you share a kiss as his hip grind against you.  “I love you Yahya!  OOH I love this dick!”

“Come on and love me baby.  Damn!”  He moans in your mouth as you lock him down, taking him in fully.  You feel him shudder on top of you as you rub his back, feeling yourself full from within.

“Oh shit.  Oh shit, baby, that’s what I wanted since you left the house,”  Yahya says with a labored sigh.  

You chuckle, feeling liberated and unbothered by your public indecency.  “Yeah?  Why didn’t you say something.”

Yahya gave a hoarse laugh.  “Ms.  Don’t-Ruin-My-Makeup?  Yeah, like anything was gonna happen.

You sigh, adjusting your breasts back to their proper place.  “You right.  Once my tiddies leaked, all that went out the window though.”

You both slip back into your clothes.  Yahya finds where he tossed your tights and panties and gives them to you before getting into the car.

“Baby, I am still hungry though.  Can we stop by that pizza place I like and get a large pepperoni?”  

“Yes, sweetheart,  You can have a kidney if you end a night like this again,”  Yahya takes your hand in his as he drives along.

“That was your idea, not mine.  But I liked it a lot.”  You kiss Yahya’s ear as he drove, gripping his inner thigh and whispering sweet nothings until he got to the pizza place and bought two pizzas.

When you got home, the sitter greeted you both happily.

“So you all had a good time then?” she asks.  Her eyes dart over you in a way that you know she can tell something was up.

“WE sure did Tracey, and thank you so much again.  I Venmo’d you on the ride over so we are all set,”  He goes to set the pizza in the kitchen.

“Thanks!  And Leila is sleeping, we had a great time!  I have her some crackers and juice before bed around 9 oclock.”

“Excellent.  Thanks again.  You drive safely.”  You wave Tracey farewell and close the door, taking off Yahya’s jacket.

He comes downstairs from checking on Leila.  “She is fully intact and breathing,” he reports.

“Oh my sweet baby.  Should we wake her so you can see her before you leave in the morning?  You know she sleeps through the night now.”

Yahya takes two slices on a plate and sets it on the table.  Taking a generous bite he says,  “I don’t have to leave yet.”

“Really?  I thought the schedule was tight?”

Yahya shakes his head, putting an arm around you.  “I can delay a couple more days.  It happens anyway when you miss a flight.”

“Who said anything about missing a flight?”  

Yahya puts his slice to your face.  “Girl if you don’t eat this pizza and hug on me!”  

“Aw!”  You take a bite and wrap your arms around his waist. 

“Plus I don’t wanna leave you stressed.  You taking care of Leila all the time, I need to catch up.”

 “Good cuz I don’t wanna be woken up early tomorrow, I need my rest.”

“You right.  So that means I got breakfast!  Fixing a full course meal for my girls,”  Yahya says excitedly.

“Uh, no!  I don’t need the house burnt down!”

“Here you go!  I am a pro in the kitchen.  More Michelin stars than the telephone book got names!  More bite than Eve with the apple!  You loved my breakfast when you were pregnant!”   

“Yeah yeah, but I haven’t had it since.  Let me go shower.”  

AS you start to get up Yahya pulls you back, putting down his slice.  “Uh uh, one more round before you go.”

“What?  No!  I gotta freshen up!” 

Yahya is already laying you down and playing a scavenger hunt with your body.  “You know why people don’t make their bed?  Don’t make no sense if Imma make you dirty all over again.”

Masterlist

Tag 

@chaneajoyyy​

[meetmeinthematinee]

Anything But Red: Serve and Service Part 2  John Wick x Fem!Reader

A/N: A ridiculously long time ago I got a request from @cynic-spirit​ for a pt 2 to Serve and Service. I hope that you enjoy this long, long, long awaited story even though I did change things a teeny bit from your request. 

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, a guy too forward on hitting on someone, mild swears? Do I need to warn for fluff? It’s just fluff mostly. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit.” You muttered as you leaned forward and pressed your fingers into your forehead.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again, John?”

“Your super worried but suffer in silence thing.” John said as he gently pulled you back against the chair and worked his fingers into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You relaxed into his touch and let out a sigh.

“I thought that was YOUR thing.”

“Suppose so. It’s your thing too.” John said pointedly.

His hands stilled their soothing motions and you finally relented. 

“The barback just quit. Without notice.”

“Steve?” 

“Mmhmm. I don’t even know what we’re going to do. It's Saturday for fucks sake. I mean--I…”

“You mean you wish you had a really strong guy that takes direction well and can work tonight?” John said as he resumed working each and every knot out of your shoulders. 

“Exactly. Wait. What?”

“I’m saying I’m happy to help out in the restaurant tonight.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. 

-------------------------------------------

John wiped the bar down. The cloth slid along the polished wood surface in his large hand. It was hard to not get caught up in watching him move. The way his rolled up shirt sleeves allowed you to see his forearms flexing as he lifted the trays of clean glasses. The way his shirt drew tight across his muscled back as he slid the wine glasses into the rack above the bar. The bulge of his biceps as he heaved the beer kegs into place. Your attention was always split twenty different ways when you were in the restaurant but your eyes were always drawn back to him tonight.

In the turnover between the 2nd and 3rd seatings of the night you had time to check in with him out in the alley where he’d asked you out all those years ago. “I think you might be the best barback we’ve ever had.” 

“It’s because I want to impress the boss.”

“Oh--she’s impressed. And grateful. Very grateful.” You said as you worked your hands into his back pockets. 

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. John never knew what to do with your compliments but that never stopped you from giving them freely. 

He leaned down and kissed you. Capturing your lower lip softly between his teeth and humming lowly before letting you go again.

“Alright. We better get back in there.”

“Yes, chef!” He answered as he held the door open for you.

You made your way through the buzzing dining room, stopping at a few tables to say hello to some familiar faces before you checked in with your front of house staff. This time of the evening was your favourite. The worst of the rush was behind you and on a good night the kitchen had settled into a comfortable rhythm. After the host ran over the state of the bookings with you you migrated over to the bar. 

“How’s working the bar with John?” You asked Janice. You always could trust her judgement -- she’d been less than thrilled with the work ethic of your last barback and had said as much -- but before you even had a chance to let him go he’d quit on you.

“I’m not just saying this because you’re married to him -- I’d be overjoyed if you could find someone who works like he does.” She said with a wide smile. 

“That’s a tall order.” You replied. “But I found you--so I think it’s doable. I’m hoping he’s ok with filling in until I find someone.”

You both looked down to the other end of the bar where John was busily prepping lemons and limes for garnish. 

“Looks like he might be ok with that.” Janice said before she got back to work making the next round of orders for a table. 

You were making your way back to the kitchen when someone got your attention. 

“‘Scuse me -- you’re the chef here right?” A blond middle aged man said, grabbing you by the wrist as you made your way past him at the bar. You steeled yourself for what you knew was coming and smiled politely at him while gently attempting to pull out of his grasp. “Yes, this is my restaurant.” 

“You should let go of her buddy.” John said without looking up from where he was slicing citrus across from the man.

“Oh, yeah sorry.” He said as he dropped his hand from your wrist. 

“He’s a bit rude, hmm? Anyway.” You semi-tuned out the man in front of you and your eyes kept drifting over to John. 

“I wouldn’t say he’s rude. He’s new. A great hire I think.”

“A woman like you doesn’t need to have someone speak on your behalf.”

You smiled cooly. “I don’t think that was his intent.”

“Anyways, I was going to say a gorgeous woman like you should have a night off once in a while. I’d like to help you unwind sometime.”

You inwardly cringed. Thinking and there it is to yourself. This happened every once in a while and you always hated it.

“Usually I save my time off for my husband.”

“I don’t see a ring.” The man answered, his ruddy face showing exactly how many glasses of wine he’d had. 

You glanced again at John and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, one palm planted firmly on the burnished wood of the bar. 

“I’m a chef. I don’t wear it when I’m working. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Aside from you?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, aside from me.”

“Maybe another glass of red.”

“One red.” You called to Janice and she grimaced when she saw who you were pointing at. 

“Enjoy the rest of your night. I have to go.” You said as you walked away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, mouthy.”

“Excuse me?” John said.

“Is she really married? I feel like that’s a line. She seemed really into me.”

“You think so?” 

“Definitely.” The man said before he took a big swig of his wine. 

“Then you should go for it. I mean, I’m new here--I don’t know much about her personal life. Give it a shot.” John said as he ignored the laugh coming from behind him. 

“Why’s she laughing?” The blond asked about Janice who was pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Trying and failing to suppress her laughter.

“Beats me. Women, you know?” John said with a shrug.

“Fair enough.” 

“Do you want me to ask her to come back? Any man would be lucky to be with her. Happy to help a guy out.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

John headed back toward the kitchen. A wicked grin on his face as soon as his back was turned to the semi-drunk louse.

He came back with a folded napkin and set it down on the bar in front of the man. 

“What’s it say?”

“I don’t read things not meant for me.”

“Huh. You know, you’re not a bad guy. Sorry I called you rude earlier.”

“Don’t mention it.” John said as he went back to putting away glasses. 

“Looks like I was right! See ya later!” 

“Later.” 

Janice never brought up what happened to the man for the rest of the night. They were hit by a sudden rush of customers and everyone was too busy to wonder about where that awful man had gone to. 

You came out for one last round of checking in on customers and stopped at the bar when you saw the creepy man from before was gone. “Uh, thank god that guy’s gone. He was way too handsy and way too creepy.” You said to Janice--who suddenly broke into laughter.

Your host came through on their way to leave for the night. 

“Are you talking about that weird blond man?” They asked.

“Yeah -- he was hitting on Chef here right in front of John.”

“Oh. OH! That makes so much sense now. That dude came back and tried to get in again and he was ranting and raving about being tricked and falling into the alleyway. He just seemed really drunk so I refused him entry.”

All eyes turned to John who was quietly wiping down the bar. 

“John?” You asked cautiously.

“Hmm?”

“Did you toss that man into the alley?”

“No. But I did write a note that suggested you’d be waiting for him through the door by the washroom....”

Janice slapped John on the arm. “YOU DIDN’T! I wouldn’t have pegged you as the jealous type.” 

“Listen, I’m not going to let some creep stay here and bother everyone, let alone my wife. I heard the way he was bothering you all night and then he escalated things to getting handsy. I didn’t want there to be a big scene. I just…...helped him out the door a little.”

“Well, next time maybe just let me know when you’re going to help someone out the back door again so I don’t bear the brunt of that messiness, John.” The host said with an exasperated but amused sigh. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon it was just you and John. He was straightening up the bar, making sure everything was clean and ready to go for tomorrow. You fished around in your pocket, frantically as always, before your fingers closed on the familiar smooth, cool metal. You carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. 

“Do you want a drink before we head upstairs?” John asked with a gentle grin. His eyes scanned down and caught the way the light glinted off your wedding band. He never tired of seeing that on you. The sign that you were a matched set. 

You shook your head. “Nah, I’d rather head upstairs and unwind with something on the couch with you.”

“What do you want to drink?” He asked as he guided you to the exit with his hand on your lower back.

“I think….anything but red.”

------------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

Next up I have a Bill & Ted fic on the burner and I have another long, long, long ago request I’m chipping away at. My requests are closed so even though it’s incredibly flattering to be asked to write something I’m not able to take on any right now. 

I’m also forgoing the whole taglist thing now -- not because I don’t love you my ever generous and kind readers--but because they don’t even work half the time. 

Hope that you’re all holding up as ok as you can be during this incredibly bonkers time. 

xoxo

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Don’t Breathe 4.5 | teaser

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, yandere at some point (? i think ), themes of depression, redemption, they fall in love, lovey dovey, fluff, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is purely fiction ok.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt.4.5

author’s note: coming soon

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie​ @tangledsparkles​ @yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) if you’d like to be added to the taglist please comment on this post💜

The sun is setting like a dream, you can’t say you’ve ever seen it shine so beautiful. The sky looks like a peach painting that shyly fades into a heavenly deep-blue. It’s a perfect evening, the air smells of the flowers growing on the porch and it delights your senses. He’s chasing you barefooted across the grassy yard, like two children playing tag at the peek of spring. Out of breath, he finally catches you and you fall back into the checkered blanket, too tired to run off again.

After seeing you enjoy the balcony so much, he introduced you to his lavish  backyard. Aside from the large stone patio and pool attached to it, the yard expands at least an acre and it’s well-groomed. Early in the evening, you moved to spend some time on the patio, a pencil and paper in hand. Taehyung had some work to do so you had a few hours to yourself, you used that time to think and write. After a few hours, you could no longer resist the urge to take a dip in the crystal clear oasis.

With a t-shirt and underwear, you eased into the cool water and breathed a sigh of relief. For what could have been an hour or two, you weren’t counting, you swam on your back, staring up at the clear sky, wondering if you’ll ever feel peace like this again. When your eyes shut, your thoughts seem to align, and for the first time since you’ve been here, you felt like you were where you were supposed to be. As much as you cherish your life alone, your independence and innate desire to prove that you can make it on your own—it seems Taehyung is worth giving that up.

That would have sounded crazy weeks ago, but it’s how you feel. That night that you confessed that you wanted to be with him, you meant it. You don’t know when it happened, maybe when you kissed him and he picked you up, when you woke up to him fast asleep with a pillow in his arms. Or maybe it was when he suggested you help him bake, since he knew you wrote so much about food in your articles, you’re not sure. But somehow, some time after learning his name, you think you fell in love.

When you were with Jin, you had similar feelings to this. You knew you were in love when you had the urge to smile even when you were hurting just to make him smile. That feeling of unexplained self-sacrifice, something as small as smile, you’d force it out if you knew it would help him. With Taehyung, it seems like he will do anything to make you smile sometimes, even when you know he’s keeping stressful things from you. Is that love? You think so.

You sigh, still feeling a bit wet from your swim a while ago but you’ve dried mostly. He fussed at you for not showering straight away but you said the sun would dry you well enough until your shower tonight. It’s dusk now, and your out in the grass, laying happily on the blanket with him. Only a few minutes ago did you find out that he had pretty lights adorning the patio. He said he’s had them for a while but hadn’t turned them on until today. It casts a warm light out into the grass, you tell him he should turn it on more often.

”You should shower before you catch a cold,” He stresses for the second time. You find his worry endearing but negotiate five more minutes, and he caves. It’s been a while since you’ve been outside like this. He knows this, that’s why he’s laying shoulder to shoulder with you as you gaze up at the night sky. “Sorry I had so much work I had to do today, hope you weren’t too bored,”

”It’s fine, I was writing anyway...”

”Really?” He turns on his side, curiosity piqued. You nod, hands searching for the pencil and pad you had on the blanket.

”I used to write poetry when I was in high school. I wasn’t very good and some of it is kind of cringe now that I look back at it, but I enjoyed it. I haven’t written in so long, I thought I’d give it a shot,” You grab the notepad and look up at it, eyes skimming over the gray hue from all the erasing. You catch him trying to peek over and you hold it to your test. You grin, “Don’t look, it’s not good,”

He pouts, hand moving to intertwine with yours.

“Come on, you’ve never shared your personal writings with me before,” He pouts, leaning closer to you in hopes that you might succumb to the allure of his gaze. “Pleeease?”

”Fine,” You sigh, “but you have to read it yourself,” You lift the notepad, handing it to him.

He sits up and the feeling of anxiousness comes to a halt when you realize one important fact; it’s Taehyung reading this. Not a supervisor critiquing your rough draft or a teacher judging your ability to recite your understanding of the class’s latest assignment. It’s him.

I’ve been given a universe, all for me. My very own stars in your eyes, I can stare at you forever. The remnants of your every gaze births a galaxy and I draw up the constellations by the reminisce of the pattern of your touch on my skin. I, too, have given my universe to you. Though I’m innocent to the stars in my eyes, the constellations I paint on your skin, all for you. No event is there more beautiful than the moment our eyes meet, our nebulae collide. A merging occurs, giving life to new stars that are our own, creating a galaxy that holds a shape that can only be defined by fate. In that sweet moment, we create an intertwined constellation, a design filled with millions of our old and new stars, shining brighter than ever,

“in your universe, my universe...” He reads the last lines softly. Setting the pad down with an expression that you can’t quite read, he just looks at you and you start to feel nervous.

“I just,” You bite at your lip and look up at the night sky that’s beginning to show the stars, “I had this idea about space, it’s a little different but it took me hours to come up with...I’m rusty.”

He props himself up and leans over you, gaze searching for yours with a tender close-lipped smile. He holds his hand to his heart, “That was so beautiful.”

You cringe, pushing his chest so he can roll back on his back. “Oh stop, now I wish I wouldn’t have showed you,” It’s hard to tell if he’s praising you or teasing, it seems like it’s one in the same sometime.

“I’m being serious, I can feel the emotions you’re conveying in your words, I really get it...” He looks a bit surprised that you’d think he was teasing you about this, he leans back over you. 

“You mean it?” You look into his eyes, wondering how anyone could be capable of making you feel so special, like you’re the only person in the world. Without a word, he presses a firm kiss to your lips and you sigh, he means it.

*  *  *

“How’s the investigation going? Jin told me you reached out the other day,”

The busy lawyer sits his freshly ordered coffee in his cup holder as he drives off to his highly-decorated firm.

“I did, the case is more complicated than I initially thought,” Yoongi poured the subpar coffee in the Styrofoam cup, it’s 6am and he’s trying not to be grumpy, “if I’m right about my suspicions, it’s a fucked up situation.”

“What’re you thinking?”

Yoongi looks around, seeing that the only person around was the woman at the desk. “The girl, along with the other individuals at that conference, were targeted. I got the names of the parties at the conference, they’re politicians of course but the details of the meeting was never released. I have a theory,”

He lowers his voice, looking around one more time before sipping his coffee, “I think someone at that conference had those other reporters killed. I went over each autopsy file and those people died from unusual things, but not unusual enough to suspect at first-glance. Most of them dies from too much of a medication that they were already taking, things like that. But this girl, unlike everyone else, she was abducted and I don’t know why.”

Jungkook makes a thoughtful noises. “What’s different about her that not like the others?”

“She went missing a little over a month after the others were found dead. It looks like a mistake to me,” He paces, “I don’t know if I’m being too outlandish, but I have a feeling she’s alive, we just need to find her,”

Jungkook responds with how he feels about it but Yoongi has to cut him short when Eunwoo walks into the station.

“You’re here early, Min,” Eunwoo smiles, beckoning Yoongi to follow him to his office, “I have some good news, and some bad news, which do you want first?” Eunwoo leads Yoongi into his office and sets his briefcase down so he can pull what he needs out.

“Surprise me.” He deadpans.

“Well, last night, we found out that the infamous Hwan Group could be apart of this. You know that group, they’ve been under the radar for years, you can’t catch’em. But there’s a chance they could be the force behind this, they have assassins for hire from what I’ve heard,” He takes a seat, opening one of the Manila folders.

“And the good news?”

“It took a lot to pin him, but we’re bring one of the parties in for questioning today,”

“Good, I think they know something that they’ve been trying to keep under the rug.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

Yoongi gets up, hand tight on the flimsy cup, “If you could give me a call after the questioning, I’d appreciate it. I’m gonna do a little digging into this Hwan Group, see if I can get some info that’ll help,”

Yoongi leaves the building with a to-do list but little does he know, detective Na Jaemin, knocking on on Eunwoo’s door.

“Come in,”

“Hi,” Jaemin slips into the room, an unusual grin on his face, “how are you?”

“Um,” Eunwoo looks around, not understanding why he’s approaching him like this but he shrugs, “good, is everything okay, detective?”

“Everything's fine,” Lies, “I just had a question about that PI, Min Yoongi,”

“Shoot,” Eunwoo awaits his question.

“Why is he so adamant on keeping this case open? I mean, I’m a detective on the case and I think we should start searching for the body,” His tone sounds innocent but he’s trying to sneakily plant this idea in Eunwoo’s mind, “we could be wasting precious time, the family deserves closure and we’re just dragging it on.”

“Detective Na,” Eunwoo stops looking through the folder, “given the other related cases, we have reason to believe she might be alive. Not every abductee is killed, even if that tends to be the case.”

Jeamin swallows, trying to think of how to save himself, “I know, I’m not saying that we should be pessimistic but realistic, rather.”

“I get what you’re saying, but on what prescient you’re saying it, I don’t know. I, and many of the others on this case, have reviewed the evidence and compared it to the other cases, it doesn’t add up. After the questioning today, we’ll talk, until then, your efforts need to go towards finding her alive and well,” Eunwoo walks past Jaemin and the detective gets the memo to get out of the office, “Understood?”

With a feigned grin he stands up straight. “Absolutely, sir,” 

[sirsharp-a]

ALEENA. ❜ ( 2 )

Summary:  Owing a favour on this side of town is never a good thing. Warnings:  N/A.  Just lots of teeth-gritting awkwardness. Pt:  1  |  2 ( here! )  |  3  ( coming soon! )

    He wasn’t quite sure why he’d wound up agreeing to meet her.  Maybe it was the image of a poor girl sitting there in the lobby of their studio complex all on her own, anticipating a visit from a superstar that never came.  He supposed that Charla’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings had really put him on the spot in this particular instance--  as it often did.

    She never seems to actually consult me about anything.       She just tells me how it is and expects me to roll with it.

    “I’ve got a bad feelin’ about this, Fayze.  It feels seedy, like an arranged marriage or some shit,”   Seb admitted sullenly as they rode in the elevator together.  Fayze knew him well enough to tell that he was still seething from the things Charla had said.  As sad as it was, he’d learned to shrug off her dismissal, knowing full well that his bandmate didn’t think anything close to the things that she did, but interrupting him like that, solely to shrug off his existence, had really ticked him off.  He reached over, put what he hoped was a comforting hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

    “It’ll be fine.  All we have t’do is meet her.  Maybe she’ll be cool.  We could get a new friend out of it.”

    “Sure…”

    It didn’t take a genius to discern that neither of them were that convinced.

    As the elevator doors slid open, both sets of eyes focused on the distant seats.  They could both see the head of a petite brunette but little else, her back to them.  Had they not known who was awaiting them, they’d have assumed it was one of the many producers that were hired to help market albums and merchandise.

    Awkwardly, as they closed the distance between the lift and the couches:   “Oh, uh…  hey.  Are you--  are you Aleena?”

    Slowly, she turned around, regarding them both with a blink.  She’d blown a little pink bubble with her gum, her tongue poking out in order to pop it so that she could speak.   “Yeah.”

    Oh fuck.  She’s cute.  Like…  really cute.

    “Ah-hah…  well.  I’m--”

    “I know who you two are,”   she interjected, voice decidedly playful as she moved to stand up.   “You both look taller on stage though.”   Her thick brown hair was slightly tousled, as if she’d walked through a brisk wind to get there, and her fashion appeared to consist of dark hoodies that were slightly too big for her;  black painted nails that, when curled into her sleeves, had her melting into one indistinguishable pile of obsidian, a head seemingly plastered on top as an afterthought;  trendy rips in her skinny jeans showcasing a myriad of tattoos and scars.  Her chocolate-brown eyes drew a curious line along Fayze before she turned to glance at his friend.   “Love your sax solos by the way.”

    “Uh--  thanks.”   Seb’s hand tightened reflexively around the strap of his saxophone case, something between a smile and a grimace shaping his lips.  After a moment, the silence was punctuated by a pleasantly surprised chuckle.   “Sorry.  I’m not that used to people sayin’ things about me.  I appreciate it.”

    She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.   “This is really awkward.”

    “Yeah,”   the musicians quickly agreed.

    “... we should do something to break the ice.  Right?”

    “If it’s all the same with you, I’d kinda like to…  know what the hell is goin’ on, for real,”   Fayze mumbled meekly, a hand coming to scratch sheepishly at his neck.   “I mean…  what kinda position are you in to be ‘sold off’ like this?  Aren’t your parents worried?”   He watched her face closely after the words had landed, hoping to God that he hadn’t accidentally touched a nerve.  How could he know?  And how could this be anything other than a meeting that they collectively grit their teeth through?  It wasn’t natural  -  and knowing that they likely would have never crossed paths had this ‘’relationship’’ not been arranged was putting a strain on the rockstars’ charisma.  Not even Fayze--  somebody who largely travelled along with the flow, who let the wind take him places, who washed up on unknown shores because he found no point in resisting the current--  knew how to react to such a bizarre string of events.   “I hope that wasn’t too insensitive.  It’s just--  if you’re supposed to be my “girlfriend” now…”

    As a threesome, they grimaced.

    “... you’re fine.  You’re right.”   Her easy-going personality seemed to have taken a hit, a stressed huff passing her lips as she ran a hand through her hair.  Her arm dropped back to her side in an exasperated fashion, a tight-lipped smile puckering her lips a little--  a sign that she was giving in, baring her heart to them somewhat.   “My brother’s in this industry.  You probably haven’t heard of him.  It’s a long story, but that’s part of the reason I have to do this.  I’m…  not from a reputable family, so my brother’s chance of getting into show-biz was practically zilch.  My father may have…  pulled some strings to get him a manager. Struck a deal with some people higher up than him--  which would be all well and good, except we don’t have the money to pay for it.  So instead, we have to make them money in other ways”   The soft laugh she let out was upsetting to Fayze.  It was as if she knew that she wasn’t worth anything long before anybody had thought to say it to her.   “On the bright side, your manager said I only have to pose when the cameras are on…!  I don’t have to do anything…  weird.”

    Seb let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, one hand running along his arm.   “Thank fuck.  I know a couple people who’ve had their siblings ‘sold’ to band members and there’ve been way worse turnouts.”

    “Yeah, like didn’t that one girl wind up having to have a kid with…”   When Fayze caught sight of Aleena’s now pale face, he strategically stopped talking.   “I mean--  thank Tapu it’s just surface level shit, yuh?”

    How was he supposed to make her feel better?  What was the ‘right’ thing to say in this scenario?  He felt like a fish out of water, so lost in translation that he’d never understand another word in his life.  What the fuck had Charla thinking this was a good idea?  It isn’t as if my career is suffering any.  I don’t need this  -  and neither does she.

    “Yeah,”   she agreed, pushing herself to smile.   “Look…  about that ‘doing something’.  I can just go home--  I don’t know what I was thinking, asking two really famous people to go out with me.”

    “Oh, fuck that,”   replied Seb.   “Look, me ‘n’ Fayze were gonna hit up an arcade anyway. I just gotta drop my sax off at our place ‘n’ then we’re headed out.  You can come if you want.”   He paused tactfully, fingers running along the strap once more.  It seemed to be a nervous habit of some kind.   “... it’s the least we could do.  Try ‘n’ make the best out of a weird situation.  Maybe gettin’ to know each other a bit might make us all feel a bit less...  awkward, y’know?”

    To say she looked surprised was an understatement.  If she’d expected anything from two of the richest, most well-known people in all of Vide, it wasn’t kindness.  After a moment of hesitation, she grinned and nodded, her deep-seated admiration for their work finally peeking through.   “Okay!”

[itzagothamcitysiren]

Welcome to the Family

So this chapter was a little harder to write. Its pretty action based and I’m still learning how to write stuff like that with it making sense lol. Hopefully this is as entertaining and good(?lol?) as the previous chapters lol. 

Never Wanted to be Here Now pt. 6           

The breath that found itself hitched in the back of Halley’s throat refused to release as she looked between her father and Dick. Her eyes eventually settled back to stare at the cold metal her father pressed against Jason’s head. Sure, the two didn’t get along, but she didn’t want to be the one responsible for his death. She felt a wave of relief when she saw that Dick was on the same page as her, standing a few steps before her. It faded quickly as the sudden hope appeared when her father spoke again,

           “You have no idea how much it pains me to see you standing with him. You have no idea.” Her hands felt like they had pins and needles as she clenched and unclenched them, biting the inside of her check. Slade put his finger on the trigger, leaning in to rest his chin on the top of Jason’s head, “If you only knew what the Titans really were, you might not be acting like an ignorant child.”

           Halley wanted to question what he meant but she was too afraid to speak. She’d grown into the habit of feeling safe speaking her mind but with Dick, not her father. She looked to Dick, seeing him visibly tense as her father spoke. She knew there was a reason why her father always hated the Titans but she never dared to ask. But the venom in his tone, the look he was now shooting Dick, told her that she was missing out on something big and she wanted to know. Looking at her father again, she found her voice, “Tell me then, help me understand why you hate them so much!”

           Deathstroke chuckled, grasping Jason tighter. Before practically spitting as he snarled at Dick, “Why don’t you ask him? What do you say Grayson? Why don’t you tell her what you and your band of hero’s did? Ask him about Jericho.”

           Dick let his shoulders slump forward. He had no way out of this situation and if there even was one, his mind was too clouded to see it. He turned to face the young girl he grew to care so much for, already knowing that this wasn’t going to end well. Dick had tried too hard to make up for his past sins and he thought helping her would be his clean slate but inside he just created even more of a mess. Now another innocent kid was going to pay for his mistakes. No wonder Bruce replaced him so quickly.

           “Before we met,” Dick started, licking his lips. He ignored Deathstroke’s victorious look plastered on his face; he knew he was going to win.  Dick could only hope that her time with them gave some chance of changing her and she wouldn’t go back to her father once she found out what the Titans did all those years ago. “Deathstroke was hired to kill one of the Titans and he succeeded. We wanted revenge. I-I began researching him; found out he had a family. A wife and a son.”

           “Whaa-at?” Halley gasped, never hearing about any of this before. She glared up at her father, her nostril’s flaring. She didn’t remember going on a mission to kill a Titan, not a paid mission anyway. There were sometimes when he would go off on his own and leave her alone for some time. Sometimes he’d go for months on end or somethings just a couple of days. He’d leave her with his friend Wintergreen. She knew he’d take jobs without her during these times but it could be very well that he had been off as well with this supposed family of his. Running her a hand through her messy hair, she spoke again, “What is he talking about?”

           Deathstroke stared at her without a response before prompting Grayson to continue, wanting to shift her anger and betrayal at him. Dick looked at her in pity, before shaking his head. He wasn’t going to do this to her, not here. He turned to Deathstroke, turning his hands into fists.

            “You can just kill me. That’s what you want, we’re not doing this.” He said firmly, clamping his jaw.

           “Coward,” Deathstroke laughed. “You see this, daughter? He can’t even tell you the truth. You think he cares about you but he couldn’t even tell you how he’s the reason why your brother is dead.”

           “I did it to protect you,” he said, turning back to look at her with pleading eyes. “I was going to tell you when I thought you were ready. You were still healing, still adjusting.”

           Halley looked in between the two, not knowing who to listen to or to even just look at. Her heart was pumping and could only chalk this all up as being a very bad, bad dream. She just wanted to close her eyes and wake up but the pain she felt in her chest told her that it’d just be a waste. This wasn’t a dream. She was angry and hurt towards both of them. They were both liars. Her father was many things but he never lied to her. And Dick? Dick was the last person she’d ever think would lie to her.

           Sighing, she thought about how he did actually just lie to her about the team’s mission to go after her father. But that was different, he had just did that to protect her. Like how he just said he didn’t tell her about whatever this was in order to protect her. He introduced her to the man who is basically his father and gave her a home. She squinted at Dick, her face unreadable to him as she thought about the lengths he went to try and avoid this from even happening. He kept her in the dark about what sparked his and Deathstroke’s feud, sure. But he did it because he cared and he’s proven time and time again that he did in fact care for her. What the fuck was her father’s excuse?

           Her eyes flickered to the ground. Her sight landed on her father’s fallen gun from when Dick disarmed him moments ago. Without warning she jumped for it, grabbing the gun. Cocking it, she aimed at her father, her stance steady and stern. Dick took a step towards her, not wanting her to take a shot. He didn’t want her to do it for her own sake but he didn’t want the situation to escalate with Jason still in Deathstroke’s hands.

           She saw Dick move and quickly switch her target, pointing the gun at him. He raised his hands up, taking a step back again, “Halley-,”

           “No, you shut up.” She ordered, jerking the gun forward for emphasis. Turning her head to her father she now brought her attention to him, “Let Todd go and I’ll shot Grayson.”

           “No one gives payment until the job they want is done.” Her father smirked, scoffing. Her care for the boy in his grasps was sickening but somewhat enduring.

           “Not this time.” She said firmly and her father felt like he was once again talking to the girl he once trained. “Let him go and I swear I’ll do it. Out of everyone in this room, I’m the only one who isn’t a fuckin liar.”

           Deathstroke grinned, putting the gun back in its holster and shoving Jason away from him. He crossed his arms against his chest when the boy landed onto the ground. He looked up as Halley turned to face Dick, who still had his hands up but now wore a look of dread. He didn’t want to lose her to this but he also didn’t want to test her by talking again. But he had to defuse the situation.

           “You don’t have to do this; you don’t work for him anymore.” His face pleaded with her along with his soft voice.

           Halley just tightened her grip on the gun putting her finger on the trigger. Without giving her a chance to back out she pulled the trigger. The sound of Jason’s voice screaming out at her was almost muted by the cracking sound of the bullet leaving the barrel. Dick had no time to react, face frozen as the bullet flew right past his head. She missed.

           “Opps, stupid me. Let me try again,” She spat, rapidly jerking her body towards her father now opening fire on him.

           Deathstroke jolted backwards, the bullets impeding themselves in his armor. Dick used the distraction to get to Jason. Picking the boy up in his arms, he threw them behind a set of boxes for cover. He checked over his wound, ordering him to stay put as he put pressure on it. Jason was losing too much blood. As Dick fussed over him, Jason peered around the box, eyes wide in amazement as he watched the fight ensue in front of them.

           Halley howled in rage, dodging and jumping out of the way of her father’s bullets, making her way closer and closer to him. She let out another shot, pulling the trigger and only hearing a click. Being out of bullets didn’t stop her though. Without a hesitation, she chucked the gun at him, smacking him dead in the face. He stumbled back, disorientated and giving her the chance to reach him. He felt proud when she reached for another one of his knives that was strapped on him.

           “Was she my mother?” Halley spat, ducking out of the way of a punch.

           Slade knew she was asking about his wife, the one that Nightwing barely mentioned. He had a look of amusement, taking a step forward. Grabbing her head, he brought his knee up to her face. Still holding onto her he let his fist hit her in the gut again before shoving her stumbling backwards.

           “No.” Was all his said, his voice monotone.

           Grunting, using the back of her hand to wipe the blood gushing out of her nose, Halley gripped the knife in her hand tighter before jutting forward. “Who’s my mother than? You say Nightwing is a coward; how he can’t tell me anything but either can you!” She spat in-between jabs.

           Needing to teach her a lesson in obedience, he aimed his gun at her knees but her reaction time impressed him. His arm was pushed up just as he took the shot. As the bullet landed past them somewhere, he barred his teeth, “You don’t deserve to know. You haven’t proven you’re ready to meet her yet and if you keep this tantrum up you never will!”

           Not liking his answer Halley used the hand grasping his wrist and twisted it, hearing a satisfying snap. Her father made a disgruntled sound before being forced to drop the gun. She kicked it away, using her other hand to dig the knife she held into the part of his forearm that wasn’t covered by armor. She kept pressing it in deeper and deeper, her father’s cries sounding like music to her ears.

           “I’ll never be good enough for you!” She snarled, enthralled by his pain. “No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to please you! I was never good enough!” She was going to kill him and she couldn’t wait.

            All the years of torment and pain. All the years of being told she wasn’t enough. All the years he took away from her having a semblance of a normal life would be made up for in one moment. She took out the knife, swiping towards his neck as she did. Before the blade could reach skin, he used his good hand to entangle a hand in her hair, gripping tight. He always went for that, she cursed.

             Even with his wrist broken from her he used it to slap the knife out of her hand. Ripping her back, she could only allow him to move her around like a puppeteer. He raised a leg up, landing a hard kick on her chest.

           “Ungrateful child,” he sneered at her.

           She quickly got her footing, standing up straight with her hands clenched into fists at her side. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it. There were at least a hundred other moves she could’ve used as an attack but they didn’t seem as satisfying. Hacking back, she spat at him, smiling when she saw the mixture of spit and blood slap him against his face. She didn’t regret it, even when he wiped it away with a truly fighting look in his eyes.

           With an oof, she then hit the floor and was pinned there by a heavy boot on her neck. Gasping for air, she clawed at his ankle but he shifted his weight forward. He watched her eyes start to turn hazy from the panic and lack of oxygen. He looked up to where Dick had been hiding, seeing the idiot start to stand.

           “Let a father teach his daughter a lesson in respect.” He turned back to his daughter.  “You are in no condition to fight, Grayson.”

           “Hasn’t stopped me before,” Nightwing winced, trying to keep up the charm he was known for. He took a step forward, ready to get back at it but jumped at the sound of broken glass. Looking up he smirked, “Bout damn time.”

           Deathstroke looked up at the intruder from above. Batman landed gracefully but fiercely in front of the Wilsons. His eyes bore down at the girl who was clearly struggling to breathe. Back up to the father, Batman’s eyes still stood their normal stoic self’s but behind them held a look of pity and animosity. His stance didn’t falter when the assassin released his step on his daughter and began to circle the bat.

           “That was quite an entrance,” Deathstroke taunted, holstering his gun and reaching for his sword again. “It mustn’t be that great for the knees though, I can imagine.” Deathstroke figured that Batman would show up eventually but he had at least hoped to be on schedule and one of the bat brats would be dead by now. No matter, he’d kill them all.

           The pair engaged in battle, Batman shouting for Nightwing to get the two teenagers out of the warehouse and to the bat mobile. He didn’t have to tell Dick twice as he helped Jason stand, slinging an arm underneath his armpit and around his back to help him walk. Hurriedly, he made his way to the clearly distraught girl who was already reaching was her father’s discarded gun. Dick put his foot on it as she was about to grasp it. She shot him up a glare.

           “You aren’t a killer. Not anymore.” He told her holding out his hand for her to take. “Let’s go home.”

           She swatted his hand away, pushing his foot off the gun but failed when he pushed down on it harder. She stood up and pushed his chest. “I’m going to kill him!”

           “No, you aren’t.” It was Jason this time that spoke. Halley and Dick were taken aback, looking at him, the sound of Deathstroke and Batman clashing behind them echoing over his voice. “That’s what he wants you to do and last time I checked you didn’t want to be his little minion anymore. You’re better than him.”

           Halley faltered, looking at her father as Batman dealt a harsh punch to his face. She looked back at Jason, “But he has to pay-,”

           “You’re such a fuckin’ dork.” Jason shook his head, the blood lose finally getting to him as he began to get dizzy. “Batman’s literally here to save you and you’re going to go try and kill someone? Around here that’s how you end up in prison or Arkham.”

           A soft smile reached her face but before she could respond, Batman let out a painful grunt. He stood a few feet away from Deathstroke, the assassin using him as if he was a wall to kick off of. Batman stood watching and waiting for his next move, watching as Wilson reached into one of his pouches on his belt. Pulling out a small device, he smirked up at the vigilantes and his daughter. Without a word he clicked a button.

           “You have a choice to make.” He said to his daughter, showing off the clock on the device that was now displaying a countdown. He had rigged this place to blow as a last resort. “Are you coming or are you staying?”  

           “Is that really even a question?” She spat.

           Deathstroke nodded, with a twisted smile and shake of his head. What a disappointment she turned out to be. Looking up, he spoke to Batman now, “You can keep her; take your little birds, we’re done here.”

           Batman watched as he backed up, moving to leave them. He thought about going back take him down but decided against it. Jason and Dick needed medical attention. And the building was also about to blow. He nodded towards Dick, before leading them towards an entrance he had scoped out before coming in from above. He passed Halley, noting the girl watching after her father as he disappeared into the shadows.  He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

           “Let’s go home.”

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 2

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 9.7k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, anal play (male receiving), praise kink, degradation, mentions of cross dressing, brief orgasm denial, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of birth control, dirty talk, pet play, cum play (kinda?), voyeurism, group sex, anal sex, pheww I think that’s it

this one is,,, twice as long as pt 1 eye-

anyways thank you for all the love for physcom! I’ll do my best to make this series ruin everyone’s lives hehehe  the best it can be! ^^ <3

-------

“...What are you two doing?”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit-

Emergency sirens are all you can hear in your brain and sheer panic floods your veins, leaving you frozen with fear. You know you shut the door, you had to have shut it, right? Why the fuck wouldn’t you have shut the door?

Surely this is the end. You’ll be exposed and all the reasons that you gave Taehyung not to do the thing you just did come flooding back to you now, echoing in your head like ghosts and mocking you in your own voice. Contract terminated… stigmatized… left with nothing... shadow of disgrace...

“What does it look like?” Taehyung answers without hesitation, drawing you back into the present moment. One of his eyebrows lifts minutely, as if he’s only mildly irritated by the witness to your transgression. If he’s nervous, you can’t tell.

Jimin’s eyes narrow suspiciously at Taehyung’s sarcasm. “It looks like you were-”

“Our lovely PhysCom was just helping me get off.” Tae interrupts him, his tone implying the obvious.

It’s then that you realize, Jimin only saw what you two were doing, not the reason behind it, or what you were feeling... this lie might actually work.

“Then why were you just kissing her? Why wasn’t she touching you, or something?” Jimin is not so easily fooled, and he peers around to confirm that neither yours nor Tae’s genitals are exposed.

Taehyung gives a shrug. "Kissing is my new kink."  His eyes sparkle with the private joke, and he sends you a wink. “See you later, jagiya.” With that, he ruffles his hair back into place and heads out of the room, leaving you alone with a skeptical Jimin.

You're a little ticked that he left you to glue all the pieces of your cover story back into place, but you turn to Jimin regardless. "Sorry about that. Master Kim has been… experimenting,” you supply, trying to fill in any holes in the story, but sounding uncertain even to your own ears.

"I don't like that he calls you that." Jimin says, a frown on his lips as he stares after the direction Tae went.

You furrow your brows. "What?"

"Jagiya.” His gaze shifts back to you. “You know what that means, right?"

It’s rare for the boys use a word or phrase in their native language that you don’t understand. You don’t speak Korean, but the chip in your brain does. It’s hooked up to an audio-translation app in your ComGear, and automatically translates what you hear, so your brain perceives it in your native tongue.

Conversely, the chip also tracks your thoughts, so as you go to speak, it overrides the synapses in your Temporal Lobe and Korean comes out of your mouth instead. Such a device is considered standard among newly licensed PhysComs.

It didn’t used to be that way, and often PhysComs that were hired from foreign countries had no way to speak to their clients except through body language and learned commands. But the industry quickly realized that full communication is key to avoiding issues with consent, not to mention it's much more convenient, and so the best PhysCom networks provide their employees with proper translation equipment. Though there are still some smaller networks that can’t afford the technology and therefore, they usually only hire trainees who speak the same language as their potential clients.

On occasion, there will still be a word which has no exact equivalent in your language, such as hyung or jagiya, so the app doesn’t attempt to translate it. But usually you can pick up the gist of it through context, and Namjoon has been very helpful in providing you with articulate definitions before. You still remember the funny look on his face when you asked him about jagiya - the term of endearment Tae calls you.

"It's used between lovers, isn't it?” You ask, recalling Namjoon’s definition to be an approximation of darling or sweetheart. “Technically, I am his lover."

Jimin’s frown creases his brow. "Yeah, but you're a lover for all of us,” he says, a pout forming on his lips. “He shouldn't get to act like you're just his."

Normally you would tease him for sounding jealous, but his concern in this case is… founded, and another pang of guilt hits your gut. You don't know if you'll even be able to eat the dinner you made at this rate.

You try to change the subject. "Anyway, how can I help you, Master Park?"

"Oh, right.” His concern seems to melt away to embarrassment, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I sent you a message this morning. I don't know if you got it… then I messaged you about ten minutes ago, asking if we could… have a quick session."

Right. You haven’t looked at your ComGear since the incident with Taehyung, and you feel even guiltier. First you were lying to your client, and now you’ve accidentally ghosted him. Thankfully Jimin doesn’t hold a grudge, especially not with you. All he needs is a little personal attention and validation, and he’ll be purring.

Time to get back to work.

"Sorry, master.” You assume your persona and saunter over to him, running your hand up his arm. “I was so excited to hear from you, I forgot to reply,” you chuckle, your fingers dancing up his neck and combing through the hair at his nape. He visibly relaxes under your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you card through his silky locks.

“It’s okay…” he mumbles, shyly avoiding your gaze. Honestly, Jimin can be too cute for his own good. He and Taehyung are the same age, but they're like opposites in a way. They both exude the same level of charm, but one is effortlessly seductive while the other is effortlessly endearing. You have witnessed those roles reverse in them before, but no matter which way you look at it, they’re still two of the sexiest people on the planet.

“I did get your message this morning, master. Quite a scandalous outfit…" You click your tongue and raise a well groomed eyebrow at him. Jimin loves to be teased, and chastisement really puts him over the edge. “Why did a good boy like you send me such a naughty picture, hm?”

He looks away, a blush rising to his cheeks. "I was wondering if… if you could…"

You don’t try to finish his sentence for him, and lift one polished fingernail beneath his chin, coaxing him to look at you. "Yes?"

"If you could make me wear it?"

Oh. Another surprise. Jimin is a hell of a flirt on stage, and anyone would think he’s dominant in the bedroom, even just judging from how often he sticks out his tongue while dancing, or how he thrusts his hips to the encouraging screams of thousands. But that’s on the stage, when he’s in his element. By himself, in private, it’s a much different story. Jimin’s not exactly sure what he wants from you.

You had read up about all this in his file, and you’ve been working with Jimin to help him explore his sexuality in a way that’s comfortable for him. You’ve tried a myriad of things so far, and recently, he’s been enjoying more submissive pleasures. During your most recent session, he even asked you to penetrate him.

You had complied of course, but the experience seems to have inspired him to go further, to a kink you didn’t even know he had. Cross-dressing and the usual praise-filled humiliation? Oh, this will be fun.

“Chim?” Your tone is scandalized as you use the name he prefers when being submissive, and his cheeks turn scarlet. “You want to be dressed up in that outfit?”

He nods, turning his face to nuzzle his cheek into your hand. “Is... is that okay?”

Your heart melts, and you smile at him, brushing your thumb along his soft cheek. “Of course it’s okay, baby.”

He grins, his eyes turning to crescents, and you suddenly feel compelled to give him the entire world if he so desires.

You click your tongue once more and ruffle his hair affectionately. “We’ll have to order it first, okay? Then we can dress you up, Chim.”

“Okay,” he says, and you swear his smile could light up the night sky. “Until then… could you, uh… play with my butt again?”

You chuckle and nod. “Yes, I most definitely can. We still have some time before dinner.” You grab your ComGear, take his hand, and lead him out of the room, being sure to shut the door this time. “Come along, baby.”

As the two of you head off to his room, you’re almost able to forget the situation with Taehyung. That is, until you open your ComGear to pull up the picture of Jimin’s outfit and see all the missed messages from him.

I’m really sorry. My feelings got away from me. Please don’t ignore me, jagiya. I don’t want to lose you. Jagiya? I’m coming upstairs.

Shit. Feelings? A sinking feeling claws at your heart and you have to wonder just how serious Taehyung is about you. How deep do these feelings of his go?

“Everything okay?” Jimin’s voice clears your mind and you slide your ComGear back into its holster. His eyes are full of concern at your probably tense expression, and you have to push the guilt away again.

“Everything’s fine.” You aren’t sure that’s true, but maybe if you say it enough, it’ll manifest. Regardless, you don’t have time to worry about Taehyung right now. Your client needs you.

“Come on, baby boy. Let’s go make you feel good.”

-------

Jimin’s room always smells good, like fresh linen. You aren’t sure how that’s possible, when 80 percent of the time, the place is a mess. But you aren’t complaining. He keeps his bed made neatly, and that’s all that matters for your job.

"Take off your pants for me, Chim." Your voice is gentle as you start the scene and lock the door behind the both of you. Jimin wastes no time in following your orders, and strips his lower half down to his underwear. He’s about to take off his top too, but you stop him. “You should leave that on. It’s cute.”

He looks down at the oversized shirt, the long sleeves covering most of his hands, and the rest of the soft blue fabric hangs loosely around his torso. He smiles shyly and gets onto the bed, assuming position and laying on his back as he had for your previous sessions.

"What a good boy. Oh, look how hard you are already,” you purr, undoing the belt of your robe and slipping it off, leaving your body bare save for your utility belt. It feels good to put aside your worries and focus on work for a while.

Before you begin, you change a setting on your ComGear to let the other boys know you’re currently in a session. If you’re busy and they want to fuck, they have the option of joining in - if your current client allows it - scheduling you for directly after, or fucking one of the secondary PhysComs their company employs and keeps on call.

You’re their Primary Physcom. The secondaries are alternate fuck toys for when you’re unavailable, if you get sick, on your days off, while you’re sleeping, etc. For as long as you’ve worked for Bangtan, not once have they called a secondary PhysCom.

It does boost your pride a bit, but to be fair, you’re the only one who knows them so well.

Sure, they could go call another PhysCom to play with if they get super horny at three in the morning, but the secondaries are practically strangers to them. They’ve all expressed that they’d much rather wait, if it means they can get their hands on you instead of some random substitute, which is just the way you like it.

You’re their girl, and you know, better than anyone, how they like to fuck. Besides, if anything, them having to wait for you builds up the anticipation and makes them even hornier. In a way, you view their favoritism as job security. It’s only practical to stay in their good graces and develop trust and build connections with them.

You see the lust and excitement glittering in Jimin’s eyes as you climb onto the bed, facing him and sitting beside his legs. Your hand runs up along his inner thigh to tease him, and the bulge in his underwear grows a little more prominent.

“Now then. Have you been thinking about our last session, Chim?” You make your voice calm and soothing as your fingers skim up and down his thighs, giving an occasional squeeze to his soft skin. God, his thighs are thick… perfect for riding.

He nods. “Yes.”

You flick the thought away. He didn’t ask you to ride his thighs. Your fantasies are not relevant. “Good. And how do you feel about it? Did you like it when I played with your pretty little hole?” Your nails graze over his length, and he bites his lower lip. You like to do regular check-ins with your clients, in case they want to experiment, or something isn’t working for them. But with Jimin, everything so far has been an experiment, so you’ve been checking in more frequently. In a way, you’re kind of like a sexual therapist to all of them.

“Yes. I loved it,” he replies, gripping the sheets below him to avoid moving too much. “It felt so good.”

You hum in delight, happy that you two seem to have found a path to follow to pursue his pleasure. “Excellent. And if something doesn’t feel good, what do we say?”

“Calico.” Jimin murmurs, one sleeved hand coming up to cover his face. God, he’s a natural. His shyness is going to kill you. You set up safe words with all your clients, just in case. It shows your professionalism. You even have one, though you’ve never had to use it.

“Good boy. Always tell me how you’re feeling, okay?” You can feel his cock twitch at the praise, and you love being able to make him so happy.

He nods, a blush already rising to his cheeks. “Please touch me.”

How can you deny such a request? You hook your fingers in the waistband of his (no doubt very expensive) boxer briefs, peeling the fabric down his legs and off his body, to be discarded at the foot of the bed.

“Oh my…” You shift positions, spreading his legs apart and perching yourself between them. “What a pretty little cock. Look at that.” You would make a show of it even if it wasn’t pretty, but fuck, in this case, the praise is well deserved. Jimin’s cock is smooth and pink and perfect, just like his lips. Frankly, you think putting your mouth on either one would be just as pleasurable. The only fib about his cock would be the ‘little’ part - Jimin sports a fair five or six inches - but it’s all a part of the fantasy, for his benefit.

You hum to yourself as you snap on a pair of plastic gloves, as much for safety reasons as for his pleasure. Even though you all get checked frequently for any sort of sexual diseases and infections, you’re still having sex with multiple men every single day, and there are certain precautions one should take.

Hygiene is one of the many intricacies of your job and you follow your hygienic routine religiously. For anal and vaginal sex, PhysComs have various cleansers that can be inserted nightly to prevent anything nasty from taking root overnight. For Oral sex, there are specialized mouth washes that can be swallowed if needed.

But hands are a little trickier. Nails and cuticles aren’t as easily to clean thoroughly, and can trap all sorts of bacteria, so with something like fingering your clients, it’s safest to use a barrier to significantly decrease the risk of infection or contamination.

Now fully protected, your fingertips start to trace over his beautiful cock, skimming along his inner thighs, and teasing his precious little hole, building up his anticipation. He gives a small whimper, looking away as you tease him just enough to make his hips buck up into your capable hands.

Eventually, you take his length and slowly pump it in your hand, catching his gaze whenever he looks to you. “Does Chim want to be filled up? You want me to play with your ass?”

He nods emphatically, still hiding his face.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes! Please p-play with my ass.” His face is positively scarlet, and you smile with satisfaction.

You let go of him, and reach beneath his bed to pull out his little chest of treasures. Anal beads, plugs, vibrators, nearly everything can be found inside. You think he might have even added to the collection since last time.

You select a small ribbed plug with a jewel decorating the base and grab the lube from your belt. You spread a generous amount over his hole, gently massaging it in. As you carefully push your forefinger past his puckered rim, he moans. You slide your finger gently in and out, stroking his silken walls, and he writhes beneath your touch, already overcome with pleasure.

“Are you ready, baby?”

He nods again, then remembers to speak. “Yes. I’m ready.”

You ease the tip of the plug past his rim, and soon the whole thing is nestled comfortably inside him. He lets out a whine, his thighs clenching as you slowly work the toy in and out of his hole. “Good boy… such a pretty cock.” You pet his thigh soothingly, then start to squeeze his cock, pumping it slowly in time with the plug.

It doesn’t take long before Jimin is moaning and squirming, his length rock hard and leaking precum. His moans get whinier, his breath more shallow, and you can tell he’s on the edge.

With a kiss to his hardened dick, you ease the plug out of his ass and cease all contact. Orgasm denial is something he’d brought up last time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity to test the waters. "I think such a good boy can hold his cum in until dinner…"

"No! Please! I-I can't." He covers his face with both hands, writhing desperately for some friction to his aching cock, his pink hole puckering cutely at the sudden emptiness.

So freaking cute.

"Oh? You want to cum now?" You chuckle, teasing the toy around his rim. "But then how will you fuck me along with the others at dinner if your little cock is all sad and empty?" You trace your fingernail up along his length, barely touching him.

He whimpers in reply, his member twitching in pleasure.

"Can you cum again for me tonight, baby boy? Promise me. Otherwise this little cock is going to stay hard." You grip him by the base of his shaft, tortuously brushing your forefinger over the leaking head of his cock.

"I promise I can! I'll cum for you at dinner, I-I swear it…"

You grin. You don’t expect to hold it to him, but you know it’s the looming threat of punishment that’s what’s most effective here. "I have your word, baby boy."

Your hand pumps his length to completion while you grab the toy and fuck it back inside of him, and he cries out in ecstasy, quickly cumming in spurts all over your hand, a few drops landing on his shirt while his body trembles from his climax.

"Good boy,” you coo, milking him through his high.

-------

It doesn’t take you long to clean Jimin up, as well as cleaning the toy for next time, and then you pack everything away. He’s still breathless by the time you’re finished, laying on the bed as he recovers from his orgasm.

You’re about to get up and grab your robe from the floor when Jimin finds his voice.

"Why were you really kissing Taehyung?"

Your stomach sinks at the question. You’d been hoping he’d forgotten - as you were trying to do - about your little bend of will earlier. How the hell are you supposed to answer that? Honesty. Always go for honesty.

Well, as honest as you can be without losing your job. "He commanded me."

"Is that all it takes?" Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up and he props up eagerly onto his elbows. "Kiss me, too."

You curse the flutter in your stomach. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You know for a fact that it's a bad idea, and out of the question, but damn if Park Jimin doesn't have the most luscious lips you've ever seen. The temptation is there, for sure...

"Just a little kiss?” He clasps his hands together, his eyes pleading. “It's only fair. You were practically making out with him."

Well, shit. Now what? Technically, not kissing clients is only a self-imposed rule on your part, plenty of PhysComs divulge in the act. You chose to restrict it for your own sanity. But, what now? Do you lie to yourself and stick to the book, even when you've already broken a cardinal rule? Or do you… see what's beyond the confines of its cover?

Fuck. You need to stop talking yourself into these things.

But to be fair, nothing bad happened last time, apart from Jimin walking in on you. You glance at the door, which is shut tight and locked, as is standard during a session. No risk of being interrupted.

Jimin’s eyes dart down to your lips as he chews on his own, waiting for your decision. Seeing his teeth tug at the plump pink skin has your heart skipping a beat despite your best effort to deny his effect on you.

Fuck it. Park Jimin is begging to kiss you.

"Okay, fine. One - very small - kiss." You pinch your fingers together to demonstrate.

“Yes!” He smiles brightly, and suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. He sits up fully, scooting closer to you.

Why is your heart beating so goddamn fast? Why are you nervous about this? "But, look, you can't tell anyone, okay? I’m making an exception since this isn't really in my job description."

He nods eagerly and seems happy to agree to any stipulations. “Just this once, I promise. It’ll be our secret.”

That makes it sound even more condemning somehow, but you don’t have time to second guess it as he cups your cheek and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss is like some sort of paradise, it leaves your mind feeling fuzzy... his lips… how are they so thick and soft? He’s hypnotic, sweet, addictive… like nothing you’ve ever experienced.

Before you know it, he's laying you out on the bed, moaning as he licks into your mouth, his tongue breaching through the kiss while he gropes your breast. Fuck, you shouldn’t have agreed to do this naked. But he tastes so sweet, you can’t think of a reason to object, too intoxicated by his lips. He breaks away from your mouth and starts trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, and pretty soon he's mouthing at your inner thighs, his fingers skimming the base of your pussy plug.

Oh, shit. Wait, no, how did this happen?

"Master Park." You start to say, but then he's twisting the plug free, and you gasp at the unexpected stretch as it pulls out. "J-Jimin!"

He stops, his eyes wide at the use of his first name as he looks up at you from his lewd position.

"What the hell are you doing?" You ask, too flustered to rely on your usual formalities.

"Saying thank you." He replies simply. Then he leans down to kiss your clit, and begins mouthing at it devotedly.

You nearly jump out of your skin at the electric contact. Fuck, no one's gone down on you in a year at least, not since your training. Your body is screaming to let him continue, but you know it’ll lead to nowhere as he laves over your sensitive and neglected bud with his tongue, and you find yourself scooting up the bed and away from his blissful mouth. "Jimin, no. Stop."

You grab the plug from him and insert it again before anything can leak out, distress making your fingers tremble.

His face scrunches with concern. "Did I do it wrong?"

Damn it, why does he have to look like a heartbroken little puppy?

"No. No, it felt really good,” You assure him distractedly, trying to contain the frustration bubbling up inside you.

"Then why can't I-"

"Because!" You don’t mean to lash out, but your temper bursts before you can help it. "God, first Taehyung and now you, why is everyone trying to fuck with me today?"

His face falls, and he looks hurt. "I wasn't fucking with you."

"No, Jimin…” This day just keeps getting better and better. “I know you weren't. I'm sorry." You extend a hand, giving his shoulder a squeeze. It’s not his fault that you can’t seem to follow your own fucking rules. "But please don’t go down on me, not ever, okay?"

"Why not?” He frowns, and you feel even worse for letting this happen. “You deserve it. You do so much for us."

You pause, wondering whether you should lie. Always going for honesty hasn’t worked out too well so far... But looking at Jimin’s eyes, full of concern and confusion, you can’t bring yourself to lie to him. "Because I can't orgasm."

His brow furrows. "Just because it’s not a part of your job, doesn’t mean-"

"No, Jimin." You draw your knees up to your chest, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable for letting your guard down so easily around him. "I literally can't. I'm incapable."

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. This is not something you expected to have to talk about. "Do you know anything about modern birth control?"

He cocks his head to the side, unsure of where you’re going with this. "There are pills, right? And condoms too, I guess."

"There are also implants,” you explain, wringing your hands in your lap.

Jimin blinks, clearly confused. His gaze slides down to your chest for about half a second.

You sigh again. "Not that kind. It's like a piece of plastic they put inside you that emits a hormone. It stops ovaries from creating eggs. They're over 99% effective at preventing pregnancy."

He still looks confused. "Yeah, but why would that make you-"

You shake your head. "That's how most of them work. There's a newer, more tailored kind of implant for PhysComs that's 100% effective." When the technology was discovered, it was a hot item for PhysCom networks. Of course, some people developed negative side effects to it, but if one’s body was compatible with this new miracle form of birth control, it boosted their advantages in the field exponentially.

You let go of your legs and look to him, resignation in your gaze. "It puts the reproductive system into a comatose state and ceases all function of the ovaries and uterus apart from lubrication."

"Oh." Jimin looks shocked, and you don’t blame him. Barely anyone outside of the sex work industry has even heard of the technology. Who else would sacrifice their own pleasure for ensuring zero chance of pregnancy?

You’ve tried to climax before on your own, god knows. But the implant leaves you in a perpetual state of mild arousal with nowhere to go, like constantly revving an engine. Clitoral stimulation feels good at first, but with no resolution, it soon becomes tortuous.

You can put up with it for short periods, like if one of the boys starts to rub you while they fuck you. They mean well. But you’ve learned to convincingly fake an orgasm before it gets to be too much. Most of the time it’s not an issue, since your pleasure doesn’t enter into the equation.

"That's how all of you can cum inside me all the time. It's how I can keep it plugged up in me without any fear of getting pregnant." You laugh humorlessly, tapping the plug at your core.

Jimin stares at the plug, as if it’s presence has taken on an entirely new meaning to him. "I never thought about that."

You actually do laugh at his naïvety. “I’m sure no man would look that gift horse in the mouth.” You realize from his puzzled expression that the idiom might not translate well. “No man would question such a privilege.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess…” A shadow crosses over his face, and you decide to draw this uncomfortable conversation about your reproductive system to a close.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

You laugh heartily this time, your spirits lifted from his sentiment. "Yeah, it does sometimes." You give his thigh a pat and get up to go find your robe. "But I get to make all of you cum for me, so doesn't that make up for it?"

He shrugs, that pout appearing once more. You feel bad for bringing his mood down. You’re supposed to be lifting him up, making him feel good.

You tie the belt of your robe and come back over to him, your finger tracing under his chin.

"Come on, baby. Let's go order that outfit for you."

His spirits seem to lift a little at the proposition and you smile to yourself. Jimin truly is one of your easiest clients to please.

-----

A while later, you stand in Seokjin’s bedroom within his walk-in closet, admiring yourself in the full length mirror. You‘re wearing a gown more expensive than a house, and jewels decorate your throat and hair, elbow-length gloves adorning your hands.

“Are you ready for dinner, darling?” Seokjin purrs in your ear as he slinks up behind you, his hands lightly gliding up your waist.

“Yes, Master Kim.” Your answer is obedient and full of gratitude. You gaze at his reflection in the mirror, letting him take in your appearance.

“My, my, my… look at how lucky I am to have such a pretty pet, hm?” He chuckles, one of his hands skimming gingerly up your ribs and settling on your breast, squeezing you through the silken dress.

“Yes, master,” you sigh, leaning into his sinful touch and playing along with his fantasy. Seokjin's pleasure seems to hinge on your luxury. The more extravagance you’re dripping in, the hornier he gets. Which he often likes to complement with your unique position in the house...

“Such a pretty pet. I bet you’d gladly have us all fuck you on the dinner table, wouldn’t you?”

You shiver. Seokjin’s dirty talk was good when you started working for them, but it’s only improved over time. "Of course, master. I love to be your little fuck toy." You smile at him in the mirror, and then turn around in his arms, placing your hands on his chest.  "Please use me tonight, any way you wish."

“That’s the plan, darling.” He chuckles, taking your hands and bringing them up to his mouth, languidly kissing each and every knuckle. His eyes burn with unbridled passion, and you wonder if tonight he’ll be in the mood to fuck you before you even make it to dinner.

Seokjin looks gorgeous, dressed to the nines in a tailored suit, with his hair styled perfectly, not a single strand out of place. Anyone would fall to their knees if they received a look like the one he’s giving you now.

“I have a gift for you, my sweet.” A smile tugs at his lips.

You gasp in delight, your eyes wide and innocent. “I’m so lucky! What is it, master?” You know what it is. He gives you one once a week, every Friday night, when it’s his turn to call the shots.

“Close your eyes, pet.”

You obey, and feel a slim piece of leather grace your throat. In a few moments he tells you to look in the mirror again, and you see a decorative collar circling your neck.

“Oh, master…” You don’t have to pretend to be impressed. Though Jin collars you every week, he never uses the same collar more than once, and this week’s purchase is a decadent, lacy display, with tiny jewels inlaid in its surface. “It’s beautiful.”

His hands are on you again, skimming up your waist while he noses your neck. “A perfect fit for my beautiful slut,” he breathes, and you feel a flutter in the pit of your stomach. Jin is just as charming as the rest of them, and It would be easy to underestimate him, but that would be a grave mistake. He gives off a certain aura of power that’s unparalleled by any other man you’ve met.

“How many?” He asks in a husky whisper, one hand slipping down your back to ease over your ass.

You shiver. Jin gets satisfaction on his night of control by knowing how much cum you’d collected inside you over the course of the day. “Sixteen.”

His hand comes down in a hard spank, rubbing you ass afterward to calm the sting. “Fuck. So greedy…” he rumbles, his voice thick with lust. “That’s more than two rounds each… Did you beg for them to fill you up, like the little whore you are?” His voice is soothing and elegant, a stark contrast to the filth coming from his beautiful mouth.

You nod, biting your lower lip. Anything to hear his silken voice in your ear again.

“You’ll eat well tonight, my sweet…” his voice lilts as he kisses up your neck, his hands slipping up once more to your tits, squeezing them possessively.

You moan softly, leaning your head back to expose more of your throat. Jin’s presence feels secure and thrilling all at once. You know he’ll never hurt you, but the effortless brand of posh dominance he wields keeps you on your toes.

“How do you feel towards Taehyung, pet?”

Your blood runs cold. How did he find out? Did Tae tell him what happened? Fuck. You try to keep your voice even, try not to let yourself become stiff in his arms. “Why do you ask, master?”

Seokjin shrugs one shoulder, more concerned with peeling down the bodice of your dress to reveal your breasts. “He requested the first taste of you tonight. I obviously won’t grant him the privilege of touching my pet if he’s done anything at all to fall out of your good graces.”

You swallow. You don’t know why Tae requested to go first, and you’d rather not give him any more ground until you’ve had a chance to talk to him. To make sure he knows the kiss was a one-time thing. To make sure he hasn’t gotten any ideas about those feelings of his.

“I… I would rather have someone else go first, master.” You say quietly, knowing that refusing Tae’s request could be just as condemning as going through with it and whatever he’d been planning to do to you.

Jin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t question you. You remind yourself to calm down. For all he knows Taehyung could have eaten all the breakfast cereal. He doesn’t have to know why Tae’s not in your favor right now. “Very well, pet. I’ll choose someone else.”

“Thank you, master.” You visibly relax, and let Seokjin play with your tits. He circles his thumbs over your nipples, and they quickly become erect under his touch.

“Do you know why I gave you this collar?” He murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he licks up your neck.

You know. “Why, master?”

“Because tonight you’ll be passed around and fucked by all of us. Every member of this household.” His words are crisp, in delicious contrast with his soft hands massaging your breasts. “You’ll be our dessert course. I want them to remember that you’re mine and that I’m granting them the privilege of fucking my sweet little toy and having a taste of you.” He nips at your neck, sucking gently before pulling away. “And I want you to remember that you belong to no one else in that room but myself.” He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging at the sensitive buds. “You obey me, and me alone. Is that understood?”

You whimper and nod. “Yes, Master Kim.”

“What a good little slut.” He smiles serenely and gives each tit a light swat before tugging your bodice back over your chest.

There’s a moment of tender silence as he observes you in the mirror. His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s set his act aside for a brief moment. “You know, you’re really good at this.” He smiles appreciatively, giving you a warm hug around the middle and nuzzling into your neck.

You laugh at his break in character, laying your arms atop his. “It’s my job to be good at it,” you reply with a fond roll of your eyes.

He straightens his posture and adjusts his cufflinks, resuming his role seamlessly. “We’ll be starting the main course in thirty minutes. Be prepared.”

You nod obediently, and he hovers close to you once more. His tongue darts out to lick up your cheek possessively. “Be good while I’m away, pet.”

You watch as he leaves the room, the door shutting softly behind him. Well, you have half an hour of time to kill before they’re ready for you.

Pretty soon after you were hired, the boys’ company decided it would be a good idea for them to take turns living out their wildest fantasies with you. One night of the week is dedicated to each of them, and during that night, whoever’s in charge can do whatever they want with you, and the other boys have to either watch or join in. Their company said it’s good for group bonding, and for healthy sexual expression. The boys decided who would have which night through rock, paper, scissors, and Seokjin got slotted for Fridays.

Something about Seokjin’s banquet nights always give you jitters, as if you’re about to perform onstage. Well, if you count a tabletop as a stage. Regardless, you always find ways to relax before the show, so to speak.

Tonight you’ve decided to kill the time on your ComGear, with the few limited apps you’re allowed to have. You’ve become a master at solitaire and minesweeper, and as you take a seat on the chaise lounge, kicking your feet up, you select the hardest difficulty mode.

Honestly, you haven’t played a good game of solitaire in several weeks. But last banquet night you finished the novel you’d been reading and you’re now suffering from a severe hangover from the detailed and colorful universe the author had crafted. The next book in the series isn’t set to release for a few months, so until then you’re back at the games.

Easy. You beat the game in under ten minutes. There have to be some more difficulty levels. You switch to the settings menu and scroll until you find the gameplay options.

Huh. Strange. An option you don’t remember seeing before. ‘Connect and play with your friends!’ Psh, what friends? Did your network forget to disable the useless feature? Curious, you tap on the button and are greeted with a spinning circle, indicating that the game is probably trying to find your non-existent friends from your non-existent contact list. ComGears are so heavily restricted, they might as well be walkie talkies. All you’re allowed on there is messaging and scheduling between you, your clients, and your handler. Plus the games. But you’d requested those.

After several moments, you give up waiting and put the Gear away. You have more pressing issues on your mind, and solitaire isn’t enough of a distraction.

Why had Taehyung requested you first tonight? In fact, why had he disappeared right after the… kissing incident? He hasn’t messaged you since then, and the lack of closure is starting to make you antsy. You can trust him, right? Yesterday, you would have said so, undoubtedly. But you also wouldn’t have guessed that he had anything more than platonic feelings for you.

God, men are so complicated.

You groan and stand up, spending the rest of your down time doing your stretches, going through your positive affirmations, and trying not to worry about Taehyung. He’s under Jin’s control tonight, nothing bad will happen.

You hope.

-------

The dining room of the house is enormous, with high ceilings, chandeliers, and ornate paintings on the walls. Seokjin goes all out for his banquets and makes the room seem even more opulent with the addition of candlelight, a trained wait staff, and vases full of roses found on nearly every surface.  Formal dress is required, and all the other boys are dressed just as fancily as Seokjin, though not all of them can pull it off quite as elegantly. He makes sure to hire a string quartet, the most elite caterers, and he even calls in the secondary PhysComs to assist during the meal.

You see, Seokjin has a very specific type of kink he likes to experience. It has to do with food, but it’s not exactly considered foodplay. Jin loves to combine fine dining with sexual acts.

During the first course, PhysComs are beneath the table, sucking off each member while they taste their soups and salads. They’re not allowed to cum until desert, so the PhysComs are only there to get them hard and ready.

The second course marks the beginning of the voyeurism. A fish course is served while a PhysCom is strapped down to the table and teased with at least one vibrator, moans and whimpers filling the room in harmony with the string quartet. Seokjin encourages the boys to talk about their week so far for some family time, largely ignoring the sinful sounds coming from their overstimulated centerpiece.

During the third course, sex is performed on the table by any number or gender of willing PhysComs, while the boys are forced to watch while they eat the stew you made. Jin often likes to give commentary on the PhysCom’s forms, or occasionally direct them around.

Lastly is the dessert course, where you make your grand entrance. All their hungry, lust-crazed eyes are on you, horny as hell from all the buildup. A maid brings you in on a leash, attached to your collar. You walk past the cluster of secondaries, and they aim stares at you, some jealous, some of admiration. You don’t care. Your eyes are on Seokjin. Your owner for the evening.

He stands as you enter, his eyes burning with barely contained lust. “Ladies and gentlemen. I present to you, our dessert.”

The other boys rise as well, and you can sense Taehyung’s stare burning into you, but you avoid meeting his gaze. Your eyes are locked on Seokjin. He orders the maid to help you up, and soon you’re standing atop the table, all eyes upon you. She hands the leash to him. You await his orders.

“Take off your dress, dear.” Seokjin says, sitting back down, and the other boys follow suit. His voice is quiet, but the atmosphere is so charged with sexual tension, you could hear a pin drop.

You reach behind to undo your zipper, the noise simply sinful as your dress falls to the tablecloth, pooling around your feet. You hear a few inhales of breath from around the table.

“Bring the bowl.” Jin’s voice commands again, and a butler hurries over with a jewel encrusted dish, setting it at Seokjin’s right. After that, he dismisses all the other people in the room. The only ones left are you and the seven men around the table.

Jin takes the dog bowl, holding it up to the light and watching the way the crystals shimmer and gleam. “How many loads did you take today, my pet?”

“Sixteen,” you reply obediently, and you see Yoongi’s jaw clench from the corner of your eye.

Jin makes a rumble in his throat, like an affirmative. “So much cum to fit in such tight little holes.”

You nod, awaiting his instructions.

He licks his lips and places the bowl at your feet. “Empty yourself out for me, darling.”

You smile. Kneeling down over the dog bowl, you carefully remove the plug from your cunt, and moan as you feel their cum start to trickle out of you.

You can feel their eyes staring, faces flushed, lips bitten, as their combined releases drip into the dish, slowly coating the bottom.

Seokjin’s hands are tented in front of his face, hiding all but his glittering eyes from view. “Now your ass,” he murmurs huskily, and they all watch as you twist that plug out too, and even more cum joins the rest. Sixteen loads from throughout the day fill the dish, and you look to Seokjin, awaiting further instruction.

“Jimin.” He says, and the boy’s ears perk up. “Would you do the honors of fucking her first?”

Jimin scrambles up, as if unable to move fast enough. He climbs onto the table and unzips his pants, his hands shaking. Meanwhile, Jin orders you on all fours and pushes the dish closer to you. “Why don’t you enjoy your dinner, my pet? It’s been cooking all day.”

He takes such filthy pleasure in scenes like this, it makes your core clench just from the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. “Yes, master.”

You lean down and start to lap at the bowl. You can feel Jimin’s hands on your ass, but… something’s wrong. Why isn’t he fucking you?

You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at him, a “what the fuck” look on your face for interrupting the flow of the scene, and see something unexpected. Hesitation colors Jimin’s expression, and he looks between you and Seokjin, seemingly torn.

Everyone’s eyes are on you.

Jimin leans over to speak privately, his tone lowered so only you can hear. “Do… do you want to be fucked right now?”

Your mouth hangs open in shock. Why the hell would he be concerned about that?

Seokjin realizes that something isn’t right, and he snaps his fingers. “Jimin, sit down. Hoseok, go fuck her.”

Hoseok is always a good fuck. He grins and climbs on the table, fishing his cock out of his dress slacks. “Ah, look at this ass. Pretty as always,” he chuckles and gives you a light spank before lining himself up with your entrance. He pushes into you with a heated groan, his hands groping you appreciatively. “So wet, baby…” Soon he’s snapping his hips into you at a good pace, filling you up with his length.

But you can’t focus. You stare at Jimin, sitting shamefully with his head bent. You look to Taehyung, sitting across from him, only to see a smirk on his face. What the hell is going on?

Taehyung subtly catches Jimin’s attention and mouths something to him, but of course it’s Korean, so you can’t make out the words as Hoseok pounds into you. Jimin’s eyes widen and his grip tightens on the stem of his wine glass, his knuckles white as his expression changes to one of anger. Tae merely smirks and sits back in his chair, a challenge in his eyes.

What the fuck is happening? Is this about you?

Your heart sinks through the floor. It has to be. You and your damn lips are the only common denominator in this equation.

Hoseok grabs your leash from Jin and tugs on it, the collar forcing your head back. Your neck feels like it might snap from the sudden strain of trying to keep watching their silent conversation, but it’s no use from this angle, and you give up, forced to stare at the ceiling as your legs quiver and anxiety washes over you, a sense of foreboding starting to build in your chest...

Someone jumps to their feet, their chair scraping back from the force, and something crashes to the ground with the unmistakable noise of breaking glass.

“Jimin!” Seokjin’s voice cuts through the sound of Hobi fucking you, and he halts his thrusts. You’re able to see again, pants of breath from Hoseok filling the silence as Jimin looks down, frustrated at being reprimanded. “What’s gotten into you? Sit down, now.”

Taehyung chuckles, seemingly satisfied with himself, and Jin looks to him with narrowed eyes. “That goes for both of you. Stop fucking around.”

“Yes, sir.” Taehyung merely shrugs. You can see Jungkook place a hand on Jimin’s arm, his eyes wide with concern as he helps him calm down and return to his seat. Namjoon shoots Taehyung a look, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, his eyes still fixed on Jimin.

Seokjin’s attention turns back to your display, sighing from the interruption, and he gestures for Hoseok to go harder on you. Hoseok is all too happy to comply, chuckling as he pushes down on your back, forcing your face into the bowl of cum as he pulls out of you and starts fucking into your ass instead.

Normally this is part of the proceedings. But this time you aren’t prepared, too distracted and worried by Taheyung and Jimin to focus properly, and you gasp into the bowl, choking on the pool of stickiness and sputtering on cum as you turn your face away to try and catch your breath.

Seokjin has no reason to sense anything is amiss with you, as you would sometimes struggle for show. He hums and pets your hair as you’re fucked into the table. You try to inhale, but your lungs won’t work.

You feel suffocated by the weird tension in the room, and your heart starts pounding in your ears. You know this is your fault. The other boys all look uncomfortable. Jimin’s shooting daggers at Taehyung, and Tae is glaring right back. This isn’t right.

You just need a minute to think, a minute to sort this out, to fucking talk to them and clear this up. Fuck, you want Hobi to stop. You want everything to stop. You feel overwhelmed, you can’t take it anymore, and you’re flooded with shame as tears spring to your eyes.

“Bulletproof!”

You cry out your safe word, a sob wracking your body. “Fuck! I’m sorry...”

It takes Hoseok a split second to realize what you said before he pulls out of you, his eyes wide with worry. The others all look just as shocked, and Jin jumps to his feet in an instant, helping you off the table. “What can I do, darling?” He asks with concern, grabbing a napkin and carefully wiping the cum off your face.

He doesn’t question why you broke character, he only wants to help, and that makes you want to cry harder. But you pull yourself together, inhaling deeply to keep any more tears from falling. There’s only one person who can help you clear your head, and your gaze turns to him, your voice wavering. “I need to speak privately with Kim Namjoon.”

All eyes fall on their leader, who looks just as surprised to be requested. “Uh, yeah. Sure thing.” Namjoon gets up, his high backed chair scraping against the polished wooden floor as he circles around the table to you.

Namjoon is the conduit between them and their company. An ambassador of sorts. If anyone could help you sort this out, it would be him.

As he comes over, he takes off his suit jacket, draping the garment over your shoulders to help cover your naked form. “We’ll just be a minute, guys,” he calls over his shoulder, one supportive hand on your back as he guides you into the other room, leaving behind a different sort of tension, one of fear and worry.

-------

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Namjoon says softly, shutting the door behind him. He’s taken you to one of the larger bathrooms, with a few areas to sit in addition to a toilet, soaking tub, shower stalls, and a few sinks. “Is everything okay?”

Clearly it isn’t, but him trying to bring some normalcy into the situation makes you want to cry all over again. “No, it’s not.” You sit down on a cushioned bench, covering you face with your hands. “Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

“No, no. Shh… it’s okay, honey, really.” His hand on your back is more of a comfort than you’d care to admit, and you find yourself wishing he would hold you, wishing you could cry in his arms.

But no, damn it, that’s what’s gotten you into trouble in the first place.

“Mr. Kim, I-”

“Please, call me Namjoon. I don’t mind.” He gives you a small smile, and his willingness to be informal with you adds another layer of comfort.

“Namjoon.” You start again, and he looks to you with sincerity. “I, uh… fuck, I don’t know how to explain this.” You give a rueful laugh, running a hand through your hair.

“It’s okay. Take all the time you need.” He rubs your back soothingly, offering you a tissue from a nearby box to dry your eyes.

“Thanks.” You blow your nose, and a part of you feels self-conscious, letting him see you this way. You haven’t been this out of character in front of him since you were hired. “Um… okay. So, earlier today, two of the other members kissed me. I didn’t want it to happen, but it did...” It tumbles out of you in a rush, and you glance down nervously. Damn. This the third time you’ve lowered your walls in front of them today. What the hell is happening?

He seems to chew on your statement for a moment before proceeding, his tone cautious. “It was against your will? They forced themselves on you?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No! No, they didn’t- it wasn’t like that. It was… nice.” You’re ashamed to admit that you took pleasure in breaking your own rules, but you can’t let him think they were forcing you to do it. “I enjoyed it.”

He looks more confused. “So, you did want it to happen…?”

“Not at first! I mean… ugh, I shouldn’t have let it happen at all.” You grouse, still kicking yourself for being so unprofessional. “I think at least one of them might… have developed feelings for me.”

A moment of clarity lights his eyes. “You’re worried about keeping up boundaries.”

You nod miserably. Thank god someone in this house understands your limits.

“Who was it?”

“Huh?” Your gaze snaps to him.

He repeats the question. “Who kissed you?”

Your eyes lower to the floor. You feel bad dropping names, but he probably has a good reason for asking. “Taehyung and Jimin.”

His mouth stretches into a thin line. “I see.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like they’re trying to breach my professional boundaries. But... I like it. But I shouldn’t!” You groan. “Fuck, I have to keep this job...” A weary sigh leaves your throat and you try to keep your tears at bay this time.

Namjoon makes a noise of understanding. He seems to ponder the problem for a moment before speaking. “Those two are young. They’re still figuring out their feelings.” He says it to comfort you, you’re sure. But you decide not to point out that he’s only a year older than them. “But I think I know how to fix this.”

You sit up straight. “You do? How?”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples poking through. “Like I said, they’re young. They want what they can’t have.” He smirks. “You made kissing off-limits, right? So they want it now.”

You’re following his logic so far. It would make sense that something off-limits is more tantalizing… that’s certainly how you felt when kissing them.

He continues. “Look, if you liked it, then that means it’ll happen again. No offense, but willpower is damned when it comes to matters of the heart.” He gives a wry chuckle.

“Remind me how we’re fixing the situation?” You ask skeptically, wrapping his jacket around yourself and nudging him with your arm.

He smiles. “It’s simple, really. I think you have to desensitize them to kissing. We need to show them it doesn’t mean anything that they kissed you. You’re still just their PhysCom.”

You blink, still at a loss. “How do we do that?”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and he has that same tender look in his eyes as he does right after you would get him off.

“I think we should go out there, and I should kiss you senseless, sweetheart.”