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pickalilywrites · 4 months ago

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We've seen the baking contest fics, how about a swimsuit competition for both male and female. Prize is an summer worth of a free stay at a 5 star island resort

(This is Levi seeing Zeke on stage in a speedo: 🙄)

i would have put my vote in for speedo!zeke tbh

a show with a view

snk ensemble. modern au. 2129 words.

The beach is abuzz with visitors that are here for the view but not of the ocean. Today is a swimsuit competition held at the nearby beach in Shiganshina. Like the previous competitions, this competition is also being sponsored by the Paradis Mall with the hopes that it would boost sales for the newest swimwear lines for their luxury stores Reiss and Warhammer. This time the prize is a much coveted all-expenses paid stay at any Fritz island resort, good for the entire summer.

Erwin Smith is the only returning judge from the cooking competitions, but he has a sheepish smile on his face as he walks around with his clipboard. He’s greeted eagerly by many female participants as well as audience members, but he’s shyer than usual. “I didn’t read the invitation correctly and had assumed this would be another cooking competition. I agreed to it and only realized recently this was a swimsuit competition,” he says with a laugh.

“What a shame,” Sasha sighs. She wears a leaf-patterned one piece bathing suit that she had fished out of her closet. She was the one that had dragged her friends to participate in this competition with the hopes that one of them would be able to win the all-expenses paid resort package, although she’s also content with just feasting at the barbeque taking place after the contest. “He would have won for sure if he were a participant instead of a judge.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s just a judge. We have enough competition as it is,” Jean says. He glances around at the competition — many of the other male contestants are wearing normal swim trunks but there are a few in speedos — and does his best to assume a pose that will accentuate his abdominal muscles without looking like he’s trying too hard.

“I say they should bring on as many people as they want. There’s no way we’ll lose!” Connie says with a wide grin. He’s far from being a bodybuilder — Connie’s body is more leaned and toned like a runner’s — but it’s not stopping him from having fun and striking a few classic bodybuilder poses. He winks cheekily when a group of girls squeals when he strikes a particularly dramatic pose.

Reiner leans over as he observes the crowd that Connie is drawing. “Now there’s a strategy. Do you think I should try that out? Maybe it’ll get me more votes.”

“Isn’t it enough that you oiled yourself up with that body oil? You practically drenched yourself in it,” Annie says with a slightly disgusted expression on her face. “It’s a good thing that I talked you out of getting a spray tan.”

“I would have looked amazing in a spray tan,” Reiner pouts. He stands with his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands on his hips as he flexes his biceps. He speaks through gritted teeth, his lips spread in overexaggerated smile, as he adds, “I bet I’d have more people looking over at me at least.”

“For all the wrong reasons,” Annie replies with a roll of her eyes. She doesn’t bother posing or even standing up straight. Her arms are folded over her chest so that they cover the top of her blue two-piece bathing suit. She had been enticed by the talk of a luxury resort, but she’s beginning to think that a bathing suit competition isn’t worth it. She sees Bertholdt beside her assuming a similar position, but his expression is completely miserable. To Reiner, she says, “Look at Bertholdt. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. We shouldn’t have competed in this competition in the first place.”

“I’m fine,” Bertholdt says. He’s still hunched over and doing his best to cover his torso but failing horribly because of his large stature. He smiles weakly at Annie. “I’m just ... a little embarrassed.”

“What’s so embarrassing about wearing a swimsuit to a swimsuit competition? We’re on a beach anyway, so it should be even less embarrassing,” Reiner points out. He adjusts his pose so that he’s standing with his torso angled, giving the audience a flattering view of his abs. They’re perfectly toned from years of going to the gym.

Bertholdt winces when the sunlight bounces from one of Reiner’s perfect pecs and into his eye. “It’s still embarrassing,” he mumbles.

“Look at poor Bertholdt,” Ymir snickers. While the other female competitors are in swimsuits that reveal much of their skin, Ymir is in bikini bottoms and a wetsuit jacket that completely covers her top half. “If he’s so shy, he shouldn’t have competed in the first place. Not that I’m complaining. It makes it easier for me to win.”

“Are you even trying to win? No offense, but your swimsuit isn’t exactly flattering,” Historia grumbles. She’s only an audience member this time, having chosen to step down from competing after her sister Frieda had been selected as a judge. While she does wear a swimsuit, she’s covered it up with a white sundress.

“Do you want me to take a competition seriously? I didn’t want you to get jealous. I’m wearing a string bikini underneath,” Ymir says. She reaches up for her zipper and begins to pull it down slowly, a mischievous grin on her face.

Historia stops Ymir midway, her face beginning to flush despite the wide brimmed sunhat she wears. “You can show me later. I can book us a stay at the resort. We should leave the prize to someone who can’t actually afford to book it themselves.”

Ymir laughs and pulls Historia in for a hug. “As long as you’re the one paying.”

“Must be nice to be rich,” Mikasa muses as she observes Ymir and Historia. She had opted for a sleek, black one piece. It’s cut deep in the back to show off her finely toned muscles, but she doesn’t bother flaunting them to the crowd. Even though she’s entered the swimsuit competition with the rest of her friends, she’ll still as modest as ever.

“At least Historia’s not competing. I think I finally have a chance this time. Baking’s not really my forte, but I can stand in a swimsuit and look good,” Eren says. He strikes a power pose, his chest puffed out proudly, but it’s his loud, garish swim trunks that are catching everyone’s eyes. He glances over at Armin who’s standing awkwardly beside him. “You should have worn something more noticeable, Armin. You’re just going to blend in with everyone else like that.”

“I think I’m okay with that,” Armin mumbles. He looks down at his feet, wiggling his sand-covered toes. He thought he would be fine participating if Eren and Mikasa were there with him, but he’s finding it more embarrassing than he had anticipated.

Some participants, like Eld, are enjoying themselves. Eld assumes the pose of classical statues — Discobolus just about to throw a discus, Michaelangelo’s David, the pensive Thinker — and grins as he draws laughs from the crowd as well as his friends. Levi, however, is much less amused.

“You look like you’re taking a shit,” Levi tells Eld, who hurriedly gets out of the Thinker pose and tries to think of another pose to assume. Unlike the rest of his friends, Levi is much less enthusiastic about the whole swimsuit competition. Although he’s wearing swim trunks, he’s covered up with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat to protect his skin from the sun.

Petra leans over and tugs Levi’s sleeve gently. “Come on, Levi. Aren’t you having a little bit of fun?”

Levi looks over at Petra and takes in her outfit — a crocheted cover up made by Gunther thrown over a white bikini. Finally, he concedes, “It’s not the worst.”

“It’s going to get even better because I’m going to win.” Auruo stands beside Petra confidently. He’s flexing his muscles so hard that he has to speak through gritted teeth. Sweat rolls down his forehead under the bright sunlight and the strain of flexing his muscles, but his smile doesn’t break. “Don’t be too disappointed when you lose, Petra.”

“Just because you’re wearing a speedo doesn’t mean you’re going to win,” Petra says with a roll of her eyes.

“Why not?” Auruo says with an indignant huff. He forgets posing for a moment, not bothering to make sure the light is hitting his abs at the right angle. “Zeke is getting a lot of attention. I’d say we’re about the same in terms of popularity.”

Petra scoffs at the comparison. “You’re nowhere near the same level.”

“I should hope not,” Levi says dryly as he watches Zeke flirts with Frieda Reiss as she comes around to judge. He rolls his eyes when Zeke offers a bicep out for Frieda to touch, which she does with a bashful giggle.

Gunther runs up to his friends. His arms are filled with water bottles fresh from the ice cooler while his hands clutch electric fans that he passes out. While his friends are drinking water and fanning themselves, he’s fussing over them and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen from his fanny pack.

“You guys need to stay hydrated. Didn’t I tell you it was going to be sunny today? The temperature’s up from yesterday, too. They should have held the competition on a different day,” Gunther grumbles as he slathers sunscreen on Auruo’s arm. He ignores Auruo’s complaints about sunscreen not being cool and scolds his friend saying, “Do you know what else isn’t cool? Sunburn and skin cancer.”

Hanji isn’t participating this time, instead observing from a lounge chair under an umbrella that Moblit had set up. Moblit is seated beside them on a beach towel with an electric fan in his hand that he points towards Hanji.

“What an excellent competition,” Hanji comments before taking a sip of coconut water. They pass it over to Moblit to take a sip. “Who do you think will win this time?”

“Hm? I don’t really know. I haven’t been paying much attention,” Moblit says, which is true. He’s spent much of this time just making sure Hanji was in the shade and staying hydrated. “Maybe we should have participated, though. You could use a vacation. You’re always working.”

“Aw, you really think I’d have a chance at winning?” Hanji laughs. They look over at their companion affectionately. “I suppose I have been working a lot. Maybe we could book a vacation soon.”

Moblit beams. “I can pack.”

Pieck is also watching as Gunther applies sunblock to Eld’s back despite Eld’s complaints. She turns to Porco with a sleepy smile. “That looks fun. Should we do that, too? It’s important to take care of your skin.”

“You were very generous when you gave me sunblock before we left the house this morning,” Porco reminds her. He tries to act nonchalant, but his cheeks are flushed pink as he remembers just how eager Pieck had been to apply his sunscreen.

“As you were with me,” Pieck nods, not embarrassed at all, “but it’s important to reapply every few hours.”

Porco is a weak man. If they weren’t in public, he would have fallen on his knees already and agreed. “Let’s wait until the competition is over.”

“Wonderful!” Pieck smiles.

The air is filled with the sound of a bell and the judges wait for the crowd to quiet down before they take their place in front of the contestants. Frieda Reiss stands front and center with Willy Warhammer and Erwin Smith on either side of her. She looks absolutely stunning in her white sundress and wide-brimmed straw hat. When the wind blows, her skirt billows behind her, making her look like a goddess.

“Hello, all. Thank you for everyone who participated in this year’s swimsuit competition. We had many stunning entries, some even wearing suits from our Reiss and Warhammer stores,” Frieda says, nodding towards Zeke who gives the crowd a wave. Frieda pauses to let the crowd swoon before continuing. “We hope you’ll be able to join us for our barbeque after the winner is announced.”

The crowd cheers at the mention of free food. Sasha and Connie are particularly loud, and it elicits a smile from Erwin.

“It is with great pleasure that I announce the winner of the all-expenses paid trip to one of the Fritz 5-star island resorts ...” Willy announces with great gusto. He pauses for dramatic affect, smiling as the crowd waits in suspense. “... Bertholdt Hoover!”

Reiner is ecstatic. As soon as Bertholdt’s name was called, he swept his friend up in a hug and lifted him off his feet. “You won! Isn't this great?”

“Just wonderful,” he lies. Bertholdt grits his teeth and smiles for the cameras that are already snapping away. He wants to sink into the sand and never come out.

#snk #modern au #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #requests

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unhingedwomandiaries · 3 months ago

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Woke up this morning looking like I've been fisting a bloody Cheeto. My hands are proper orange, like I've been giving Donald Trump a full-body massage. What the actual fuck? I don't remember getting pissed and deciding to bathe in Wotsits dust or anything equally mental. I'm scrubbing at my hands like Lady Macbeth on speed, but these stains are putting up more resistance than my husband's nan at a hip hop concert. Even tried moisturizer because apparently I wanted to smell like I'd been molested by a Bath & Body Works while still looking like a failed Fanta experiment.

Finally showed my husband because I'm properly bricking it at this point. He just goes, "Probably dye. Got any vodka?" Like we're the sort of people who keep industrial quantities of spirits around for cleaning emergencies. What does he think this is, some kind of Eastern European cleaning cupboard?

He clarifies that any alcohol would do, so there I am, tearing through the house like a crackhead looking for their next fix. No vodka, but I do find this ancient bottle of hand sanitizer that's been marinating in summer heat long enough to probably qualify as moonshine. Slather that jellied death all over my hands, working it in like I'm kneading bread for Satan himself. And after all that? My hands still look like I've been giving handjobs to the Sun-Maid raisin mascot.

Fuck it. Guess this is my life now. I'll just have to embrace being someone who looks like they've had an aggressive encounter with a bag of Doritos. As long as nobody asks about my hobbies, I'm golden. "What do I do for fun? Oh, you know, just the usual - amateur finger painting, intimate encounters with spray tan, casual citrus-themed murder..."

#diary #blood #stain

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julisebeautytherapy · 1 year ago

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Beauty Therapist in Berwick

A beauty therapist performs a variety of treatments on clients. This includes facials, manicures and pedicures, waxing, and massage. They also provide advice on skincare and makeup. This career offers a flexible schedule and good pay.

Olier Spa is a beauty salon in London with a team of experienced beauticians. They offer a range of classic treatments, including eyelash extensions and brow lamination.

Brazilian Butterfly Berwick

Brazilian Butterfly Berwick offers the ultimate in beauty therapist in Berwick treatments right here in the heart of Berwick. Their experienced professionals provide super smooth, soft skin and you can book your appointment online any time you like. Whether you're looking for waxing, IPL hair removal and skin treatments or spray tanning, they've got you covered. Visit them today at 5/4-6 Wheeler St, Berwick.

Looking bronzed, hairless and fabulous for the beach? Look no further than Brazilian Butterfly Epping, offering a wide range of services including waxing and spray tans. Visit them today to get the bronzed body you've always wanted! Prices are subject to change.

Studio Soleil Beauty Salon

Whether you’re looking for a quick touch-up or a full makeup transformation, Studio Soleil Beauty Salon is the place to go. Their professional makeup artists have an unmatched eye for beauty and aesthetics and can help you achieve any look you want. They also know how to bring out your best features and enhance your natural beauty therapist.

Studio Soleil is a gender-inclusive salon for all peoples and does not tolerate homophobia, transphobia, racism or xenophobia in any form. The salon is located on the one-way street Forth Street in North Berwick, just opposite the Auld Hoose. It’s only a short walk from the beach, harbour and Seabird Centre.

The salon’s prices are slightly higher than other local salons, but the quality of work and service make it worth the extra cost.

Wellness Oasis

The self-described one-stop shop for a decidedly vast array of offerings, Wellness Oasis offers everything from CBD facials and body massages to venik platza (an ancient Russian bathing ritual that involves getting whacked with leafy bundles of aromatic tree branches). In addition to the typical services, it also houses an ancient Egyptian-themed spa with pillars etched with hieroglyphics and a hammam that envelopes patrons in rejuvenating eucalyptus inhalation steam.

This enchanting oasis is where New York City goes to spa. Located on Governors Island, the spa features over 20 wellness spa experiences that are sure to leave you refreshed and renewed. To make the most of your visit, arrive 60 minutes prior to your treatment. This gives you time to enjoy the exclusive spa pools and relax before your appointment begins. The spa also has a tea lounge and private relaxation rooms that you can use while enjoying your treatment. Guests are encouraged to bring their own swimsuits and towels.

Helen Mulloy Reid

Helen Mulloy Reid is a beauty & holistic body therapist, aromatherapist, make up artist & yoga teacher who offers a personalised well-being service for women, men & teens at her beautiful beauty studio in the seaside town of North Berwick. Her tempting range of beautifully devised beauty treatments include facials, brow & lash services, manicures, pedicures, waxing, massage & pregnancy treatments using carefully chosen organic, natural & vegan product ranges specially designed to enhance your natural beauty therapist Melbourne.

You can book your treatment online at her website and choose from a menu of services that includes manicures, pedicures, nail extensions, waxing, massages, and facials. Prices start at £50 and vary according to the type of service you need. All treatments are performed by Helen in her own beautiful and inviting spa. Her natural calming aura and grounding energy will help you to relax and feel soothed in mind, body and soul. She wants you to be your own kind of beautiful and will help you look and feel fabulous from the inside out.

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purifyskinclinic · 2 years ago

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Facials in Melbourne

From acne busting facials to a glow-giving anti-aging treatment, there are so many skin treatments to choose from in Melbourne. Here, we've rounded up our favourites to help you find the best fit for your skin concerns.

Tucked away off Glenferrie Road in Hawthorn is Made by Self, a studio that uses the very best products and potions. Their signature Tailor Made Facial takes your individual skin concerns into account and is incredibly popular.

Made by Self

Whether you’re looking for something quick and easy to help you get the glowy look you’re after or need a little more long-term treatment, Melbourne has a lot of options when it comes to facials.

Made by Self is the kind of place where you don’t have to worry about clinical white spaces or products that require a chemistry degree to understand – this Hawthorn salon blends eastern and western techniques to create unique facials that will leave you feeling rejuvenated on the inside as well as out. They offer a stimulating Gua Sha treatment that works to increase blood flow and reduce inflammation, or buccal massages that tone and sculpt your face.

The cult ’Camera Ready’ facial is their most popular choice, featuring deep cleaning exfoliation followed by a customised serum infusion. They also offer a range of mini and deluxe facials, and they’re all priced at less than $200.

Sense of Self

Located behind a graffiti-splattered door in Collingwood, Sense of Self is a day spa and bathhouse inspired by bathhouses around the world. The brainchild of filmmaker Mary Minas and botanist Freya Berwick, Sense of Self strips back the spa experience to its roots with a 'no bulls**t' approach to wellness.

Taking cues from Roman-style bathhouses, the double storey warehouse Sense of Self is split into a massage and mindfulness studio on the upper level and a modern day spa and communal bathhouse below. The latter houses a large mosaic tiled mineral bath, Finnish sauna and cold plunge pool.

Little Co

Little Co is a boutique spa with a focus on holistic wellness. Its interior is filled with plants and eco-friendly products, and it eschews clinical white spaces in favour of earthy tones.

The ethos is simple: treat your skin from the inside out with a personalised approach, whether that’s improving digestion and liver health or just taking some time to slow down. Treatments are divided into ‘Remedy’ and ‘Ritual’ – with the former a deeply nourishing customised facial that leaves you feeling relaxed, nurtured and empowered, while the latter is a full mind and body experience designed to renew much more than your complexion.

Their Remedy Facials are tailored to your skin type, while their Rituals involve full body massage and meditative soundscapes. They also offer a range of specialised treatments that target specific skin concerns, including rosacea, acne and sensitive skin.

Me Skin & Body

A good facial helps remove dead skin cells, hydrates and rejuvenates the skin. It also eliminates toxins and promotes blood circulation to the skin.

The process helps to reduce acne, blackheads and other skin issues. The therapists will also recommend suitable professional products to use after the treatment to keep your skin fresh and supple.

Facials melbourne are a great way to refresh your skin and feel great about yourself at the same time. Regular exfoliation and massages help to hydrate the skin, prevent premature aging, and reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles.

A range of treatments are available at Me Skin & Body, including detoxifying facials, infusions and laser toning. The therapists are friendly and welcoming, and the salon is clean and well maintained.

Miss Fox

In the heart of Melbourne CBD, Miss Fox is a beauty salon, spa and clinic that was awarded World's Best Beauty Salon in 2018 and 2019. With a full menu of luxe massages, facials, manicures, lash lift, spray tan, waxing and more, you're bound to find something that fits your needs.

They offer both prescribed medifacials and clinical-strength spa facials that will leave you looking years younger. Or go for the Divine Rose Gold Facial which utilises 24K gold leaf and organic rose oil to cleanse, exfoliate, massage and finish with crystal healing to rejuvenate your skin.

They also have a pregnancy spa treatment that will help ease your aches and pains, as well as a hens party package that will allow you to get your girls together for some pampering. Don a robe and slippers, enjoy lunch platters, Champagne and indulge in a day of pampering.

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pullpush · 2 years ago

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There are even some other mists that can give you the exact

Since 1980s the dangers of sun tanning has been felt and understood by many and consequently different methods of sunless tanning were introduced to minimize the risk factor and attain a safe session of sunless tanning. Spray tanning tops the list of all sorts of alternative methods for many benefits. It helps you get a naturally tanned and glowing skin without being vulnerable to deadly UV rays of the sun. In the city of London the trend of spray tanning is very much on the rise. Shepherds Bush area of London is foaming pump tops suppliers mostly popular for its close proximity to many high-end beauty salons.

So, if you fancy an indoor tanning, spray tanning in Shepherds Bush can be your ultimate option. Tanning in Shepherds Bush will leave you completely satisfied both with the products and the services and you can flaunt your radiantly tanned skin!The basic procedure for spray tanning is very simple. Essentially, a mist will be sprayed evenly throughout your body. That mist is sometimes water-based and sometimes oil-based. People with very sensitive skin are generally advised to go for water based mist.

There are even some other mists that can give you the exact dark tone you seek to have. However, if you are very fair then your are advised not to go for very dark tone as it might make your skin look very fake or artificial. You need to check the quality of the mist before use as it comes directly in touch with your skin. Spray tanning in Shepherds Bush beauty salons can give you an unique experience. The colour of your skin wouldnt turn orange like other methods of sunless tanning. It give s a bright brown tone to your skin so tanning in Shepherds Bush will help you get a glowing brown skin which looks very natural almost like sun tanning.

The beauty salons for spray tanning in Shepherds Bush boast of relaxed ambiance, state of the art equipment and a team of skilled technician who can guide you through an easy and safe session of spray tanning. They will provide you some tips and you need to go by them in order to attain the best effect of spray tanning. Exfoliation of skin is a must as it helps the mist to work most effectively. Application of any sort of gel, lotion or moisturizers or waxing of the body is a strict no-no for at least one day prior to your tanning session. Because it will keep the pores of your skin open which is not ideal at all for them mist to work and it wont give you your desired skin tone. There is a chance of getting spots and smear lines as well.

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#foaming pump tops suppliers

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sailoryooons · 2 years ago

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You DTF? | pjm | (m)

☾ Pairing: Jimin x female reader

☾ Summary: You’ve never had a one night stand. Jimin has had countless. You’re trying to experience new things. Jimin loves doing the same old shit. So when you meet the man going around the club inviting people to touch his ripped abs, you think perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to try new things. It’s Labor Day weekend at the shore - what can go wrong?

☾ Word Count: 10,233

☾ Genre: Smut, pwp, strangers to one-night stand

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

☾ Warnings: Recreational drinking, Jimin being a total tool, cringe-worthy dialogue, explicit language, fuck boy Jimin is it’s own warning, 2009 slang should be a warning because it is literally so cringey, Jimin is quite literally doing the jerk and reader is totally buying it, literally these two are so cringe, sexually explicit content including oral (f. and m. receiving), some nipple play, a lot of spit description idk, big dig Jimin, throat fucking, unprotected vagina sex, Jimin bein an idiot and combing reader not to use a condom, reader is equally stupid cause she wants to get fucked, Jimin accidentally cumming inside, hittin' it from the back, cringe dirty talk, finger blasting (lmfao), Jimin occasionally hitting reader's cervix, they're like a little toxic idk, this is like the most hilarious thing I've ever written, Jimin does coke right on reader's counter cause he has to keep his stmania okay, Jimin is insensitive a lot

☾ Published: September 4, 2022

☾ A/N: This is both the best and the worst thing I have ever written. There are some light-toxic themes and some ignorant dialogue and behavior between the two of them because they're both bimbos drunk in 2009. The writing is supposed to be a little cringe but I may have gone overboard. Also I wrote this in two days idk what kind drugs I was on (amoxicillin and mucinex) but here is the wildly ridiculous and hilarious fic for a collab that no one asked for but we did anyways. Very very happy to share this trash idea with Jai and M 🥺

Special thanks to @here2bbtstrash for helping me edit because I was in a rush and at one point wrote that reader's head opened in the middle of sex. We don't know what I was talking about but happy halloween, reader's head was about to be posted splitting open in bed adkjadjdkja

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

Masterlist | Ask | Playlist | Jeju Shore Collab

“So are you actually going to try and get fucked in that outfit or is it going to go to waste?” Tiffany asks as she sprays several pumps of Bath and Body Works Japanese Blossom all over herself. You cough as the sweet-smelling mist chokes you. She already has the lotion on. “You look hot, capital h-a-w-t.”

The mirror of the hotel room is a little dirty - there is backsplash from the faucet staining the glass and some tiny dots of toothpaste. And you can definitely see Nicole’s fake tan staining the bottom corner after spraying her St. Tropez all over.

You see Tiffany’s point about the outfit being wasted on you in a way. Low-rise, light-wash Lucky Brand jeans sans button, with the zipper pulled down just the slightest at Nicole’s behest. A shirt that was harder to get on than you think it will be to get off, made out of skin-tight pink fabric that only reaches your midsection, and even then, has a massive cutout over your abs.

“Not this again,” you sigh, nervously playing with the belly button ring you had pierced the year before. A cute little Playboy bunny swings back and forth, hot pink rhinestones matching your shirt.

“Yes, this again. You look so fucking hot tonight. A one-night stand will not kill you. It’s Labor Day. Please live a little.” Tiffany decides she has contributed to pollution enough, snapping the cap on her perfume bottle to turn around and face you. “You’re not in a relationship anymore. It’s time to be a slut.”

“Yeeeeaaah be a slut!” Nicole yells, running into the room and grabbing you by the hips, slamming your ass into her crotch several times to crudely depict being fucked from behind. Her jean shorts are impossibly tight, red thong peeking out the sides. “It’s so much funner.”

“Funner isn’t a word.”

“God shut the fuck up for two seconds and be a hot idiot like Paris Hilton.”

Pushing your friend away, you nod. You love them and you know they’re right. You’re single and hot, and there are countless clubs all over with hot, single guys. You’ve never had a one-night stand, having been in a long-term relationship all throughout college until recently, and now you’re where single people come to get laid and you… have a night left to do it.

Tiffany’s iPod blasts in the living room of the hotel room. There are empty cups all over the counter, sticky and sweet smelling from the liquor and mixers spelled on most surfaces. You go to the fridge, pulling out a can of pineapple juice.

Nicole gasps when she sees you reach for the bottle of Malibu on the counter. “WAIT! We need the song!”

She rushes to the iHome, bending over the counter. She flips the song to Caribou Lou, wiggling her ass back and forth before she stands straight and points at you and the bottle of Malibu in your hands.

“151 rum, pineapple juice and malibu caribou get them all numb!” she screams, making you smile.

Despite their earlier jesting, you relax as you mix drinks, singing along to the throwback while shaking your ass. The zipper on your jeans moves a few times, but you’re careful not to let your vagina make a surprise appearance. With how low-cut the jeans are, Tiffany had convinced you not to wear underwear.

Which was more of a reason to get laid.

The drink is sweet and easy to drink. You scroll through your messages on BBM but otherwise give your attention to playing flip cup with your two best friends, determined to get just a little bit tipsy before you head out to the bars.

The hotel isn’t very far away from all of the live entertainment. It’s within walking distance which saves a ton of money on cabs, but it is a nightmare for your feet the last three nights you’ve stumbled home in wedges. Nicole even broke one of her heels, walking home on uneven feet like a seesaw.

When you’ve decided that you’ve pregamed enough, you and your friends teeter to the elevator and down through the lobby. Outside, the balmy air kisses your skin. A creamsicle sky has faded to black and you can see the lights of the entertainment district and hear the faint thunder of music from clubs with open doors and windows.

You scrunch your nose when Nicole lights a cigarette on your walk. You smell the crackling menthol of her Newport as she takes a drag, hoarsely laughing at a group of men who catcall you from a sports bar as you walk by. You flick your hair over your shoulder, rolling your eyes.

As if it were that easy.

Labor Day is in full swing around you. The street has barricades to open up to foot traffic only, and they’ve relaxed open container laws. There are a few food vendors on the road, people lined up to grab a quick slice of pizza or hot dogs to settle their tequila-churned stomachs.

A breeze makes your hair dance. It smells like fried food and a hint of salt from the ocean. It carries something else on it - a taste of something wild. You’re here with your friends on a vacation that you had originally planned to take with your boyfriend.

You can recognize now that it would have been a disaster. The two of you in a partying scene meant for singles would have signed your doom. But the end had come sooner than that when you found him with his dick down some girl's throat when you came home early from work.

In hindsight, you always knew he wasn’t ready for a relationship. But you liked the way he called you baby, the way he peppered you with kisses to make you a little less angry at him, and the way that he made you feel when you weren’t fighting.

And you definitely like the way he drove his Escalade, and the fact that he could afford to take you places like the restaurant in the St. Regis and you stayed in lofty rooms at the Ritz Carlton while vacationing.

Still. There had been a lot missing, namely in the bedroom, which is exactly why Tiffany and Nicole have been on your ass about at least trying to experience a one-night stand. They wanted you to expand your horizons, to learn what you do and don’t like, and to maybe stumble on someone who could actually make you cum more than two times out of ten.

The first bar makes you lose a little hope. House music thumps loudly over the speakers. Jean-clad partygoers surround you, some on the dance floor shuffling their feet while maintaining a grip on sweating glasses and nodding their heads as the DJ thrusts a fist in the air. It’s not your type of club, but Nicole hits it off with someone in a larger group of people.

You exist on the edge of the conversation, picking at the slice of wilted pineapple in your drink as you watch the way Nicole plays her game. She’s excellent at flirting - a coy smile as she leans in to say something over the pumping music, balancing herself with a hand on his arm, swagging at his chest when he makes a funny joke.

It would be easy for you too if you thought any of the men were worth your time. They all look the same: bright polo, khaki shorts, hair gelled up. You want to tell them that Connecticut casual isn’t an outfit to the bar, but you say nothing, examining your nails for a while instead.

One of the guys starts talking to you - Ben, you think his name might be. You bob your head to the music, listening as he explains what he does as a private financial advisor. Your eyes slip over every detail of his outfit: fitted Abercombie polo with the collar popped, khaki pants paired with brown sandals, a white shell necklace wrapped around a sunburned throat, and a tattoo of his former fraternity peeking from his sleeve on his bicep.

Whatever Ben is saying, you’re not listening. You’re almost positive that Ben fucks the way he dresses: generically.

If you’re looking to experience something different, Ben - maybe Brian - isn’t it. You fucked Ben-Brians in college and they were as boring at sex as your ex-boyfriend was, except they couldn’t afford stone crab claws.

Everyone shifts to a new bar. You’ve molded your groups together, Ben or Brian - you’re starting to think maybe it’s Brad - is still by your elbow. You can sense he’s having a good time and you wish you were too. So you down a few shots at the next bar, loosening your limbs a little and making you a little less judgmental.

Brad is okay. Not your type and he smells like Crest Whitestrips, but he’s more bearable now that you’ve switched from Pina Coladas to Tequila Sunsets. You nibble the stem of a cherry, enjoying this club much better than the last. The music is more hip hop and pop, familiar songs making you bob your head and sway your hips a little more.

Sweat makes your skin sticky. You shift to stand underneath the air vent by the bar a little more, but you misplace your wedge, knocking yourself off balance. Ben-Brian-Brad catches your arm and steadies you. Slides in closer. His mint breath fans your face and you blink up at him. For a split second, you consider if you were too harsh on his judgment earlier. Maybe he could surprise you. He seems easy enough to please and like it wouldn’t be hard work, and he’s already trying to win you over…

Your eyes slide past him for a second and your gaze stays fixed on the man you see coming down the stairs into the club.

It’s nearly impossible to tear your gaze away once you see him. He runs a hand through his dark hair, laughing at something the man next to him says. He’s in dark jeans with bleached patches highlighting the material, a fitted Love Kills Slowly shirt by Ed Hardy, and even from a distance, you can see the glittering earrings in his ears.

He’s beautiful. Full lips pulling into a smirk as he winks at people he walks past. Brad rights you, asking you something but you don’t hear him, staring at the man across the bar who leans on the counter. He’s helped immediately, two bartenders drifting to a siren as they stare at him.

As though he senses your gaze, the man looks at you and your face goes red. His eyes are seductive, narrowed a bit as he checks you out shamelessly. Dark hair gelled back perfectly. A jaw that is both elegant and dangerous. He stands out among the rest of the partiers, his features an exquisite blend of feminine and masculine.

Your line of sight is cut off when Brad leans forward on the sticky countertop to order more drinks. You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. Your hands are a little shaky. Whoever that man is looks more your type, but the Ben-Brian-Brads of the world are much easier.

So you accept the new drink, sipping it and turning your back to the bar. And when you’re coaxed onto the dance floor, all disjointed limbs and sweating bodies, you forget about the Love Kills Slowly man and focus on the way you feel - dreamy and soft with the buzz of tequila in your veins.

A song you vaguely recognize plays in the background. You sway your hips, ass pressed against Ben’s crotch with his hands gripped tightly on your sides. He sways you back and forth, less like a dance and more like an erratic pendulum that can’t find its rhythm. Ben’s dancing is less than impressive, and you start to think that your earlier thoughts about his skill in bed might be right.

Tiffany laces your fingers with hers as she dances in front of you, pulling you away from Brian’s greedy hands to press your front against hers, letting you grind against her. You tilt your head back. Fog fills the air, lights dancing across the ceiling. It smells like the sticky-sweet of the machines used to make the fog, a tinge of sweat.

Nicole interrupts your dancing. Your legs ache a little, pieces of hair stuck to the nape of your neck as she bounces up and down yelling, “You have got to see this guy.”

You and Tiffany laugh as Nicole pulls you, the press of bodies jostling you back and forth as you try to catch a rhythm to move through the crowd. When you break the barrier and come out on the other side, your brows shoot up at the scene in front of you.

The Love Kills Slowly guy is posing next to a girl who points at his exposed six-pack and holy shit his body is insane. Perfectly cut abs, a solid v-line dipping into pants that fit his narrow waist. He holds the shirt up with a thumb, sticking out his tongue as the flash on the camera goes off. You can’t help but think his tongue is devilishly long.

Up close, he’s even hotter than you thought. You stare at him as the girl who took the picture flirts with them. There is a gaggle of men and women surrounding him, a flock of geese looking upon the swan longingly.

“He is the hottest fucking person I’ve ever seen,” Tiffany giggles. “We should totes get a picture with this dude.”

“Why, is he famous?” You ask, watching as he nods and lets the girl touch his abs. God. What a tool. “He loves being the center of attention, it looks like.”

“So? He’s probably a model. I mean look at that. Come on.”

Tiffany yanks you and Nicole. You resist, stumbling over as she inserts herself into the conversation. He smiles at her, dazzling as he raises a brow at whatever she says. You pull your hand away from her and take a step back. You will not throw yourself at the Adonis in front of you.

You pivot away from them, staring out over the open crowd. You don’t enjoy the way Tiffany and Nicole giggle, sweet as the simple syrup on the bar over this new stranger. They make it too easy, and you don’t enjoy the idea of melting for someone just because they’re hot. Even if they’re model hot.

And what kind of model wears Ed Hardy?

At first, Tiffany and Love Kills Slowly chat animatedly. That makes sense - she has a way with people and she’s an excellent flirt. When your name is called the first time, you think you imagine it so you stay bobbing your head to the Ke$ha song, minding your business. When it’s said a second time, you glance at them from the corner of your eye.

“You’re being rude,” Tiffany asserts, glaring at you. You feel your eye twitch as she touches an open nerve. You’re not rude - you’re bored and your drunk friend cannot tell the difference. “This is Jimin. I was right, he is a model.”

“That’s nice.”

Jimin’s eyes are on you and your stomach flips. You pick at the french manicure on your freshly done acrylics, thinking that the attention will pass you any moment now. But you feel Jimin’s eyes on you and you sense when he leans forward past Tiffany, ducking his head to level the most intense pair of brown eyes you’ve ever seen at you.

“What?” He asked. “Don’t like models?”

“Not one that wears Ed Hardy,” you answer honestly. Your words come out a little stiff. You feel your arm tighten, squeezing your clutch that’s wedged in your armpit. “Shouldn’t you be in like… Armani or something?”

“You’re uptight.”

“Thanks.”

He frowns. “Loosen up.” He looks at your empty hands. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

“Why?” Jimin moves past Tiffany entirely, offering a hand and a smirk that almost makes your mouth pop open. Your heart does a tiny flip - you can’t help it. He is stupid beautiful. “I am drinking.”

“Your hands look a little empty to me.” He grabs one of your hands, linking your fingers and tugging. “Okay, one hand full. Let’s put some goose to make you loose in the other.”

You’re speechless as he tugs you along. Tiffany squeals a little, she and Nicole both on your heels.

People make room for Jimin at the bar. You watch the way people look at him. He drops your hand to dig a hand into the pocket of his skin-tight jeans for a credit card. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he looks at you.

“What’s your drink, baby?”

“I’m not your baby.”

The quip comes out before you can stop it. Tiffany smacks your arm and makes a noise behind you. You ignore her, staring at him pointedly.

“Mmm she’s a brat. I like that. Your drink?” Jimin prompts again with a smile, undeterred.

“Um. Anything with Tequila.”

“A girl after my own heart. You wanna do shots?”

“Yes!” Nicole and Tiffany both squeal. He smiles at them briefly, but his eyes drag back to you.

You stare. Jimin has a dark lash line, making his eyes more enchanting. He bites his bottom lip, letting his eyes drop down to your exposed midriff before dragging his eyes back up again, raising a brow in a question.

He’s only buying shots if you want one.

You shrug a shoulder, nonchalant. He grins and asks the bartender for chilled Patron shots with training wheels. With his back turned, you smirk, feeling a sliver of satisfaction as you look away from Jimin and spot the group of men you were with earlier looking in your direction, murmuring amongst themselves.

Turning quickly before you can make eye contact with Ben-Brian-Brad, you find yourself face to face with Jimin once again. He leans on the bar with one elbow, head tilted as he studies you. His attention makes you feel warm and drunker than you already are.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” he points out as the bartender sets four glasses of blanco tequila in front of you, rimmed with salt and garnished with a lime wedge. He picks up two glasses and hands them to Nicole and Tiffany’s hands as you give him your name. “Cute. You’re cute.”

“Thank you.”

Jimin lifts his glass in your direction. “Salude.”

You watch, mouth parted slightly as Jimin’s tongue curls out of his mouth, licking the rim of the shot glass slowly. His eyes don’t leave yours, even when he’s finished the rim and tosses the tequila back before biting into the lime. A tiny bit of lime juice runs down his chin, your eyes following the trail. His tongue darts out to snatch it.

“Come on,” he purrs. “Your turn.”

Your mouth is dry. You quickly lick the salted rim, barely making it around before tossing the shot back and squeezing your eyes shut as it burns down the back of your throat. You bite into the lime wedge, the sour taste helping ease the burn.

Juice runs down your chin. Before you can wipe it, Jimin’s hand darts out, a thumb brushing across your skin to catch it. He removes his hand, lips twitching upward slightly as he absently sucks the juice from his thumb and turns to the bartender to order two tequila sours.

“Are you on vacation?” he asks and you nod your head, a little dizzy from the shot and from him. The group of men from earlier has shuffled back toward your group, Nicole and Tiffany reluctantly shifting attention from Jimin to the men they were talking to previously. “Same. I have no idea where my friends are, I think they left me.” He slides a drink toward you. “You won’t leave me, right?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re nice or not. I like nice guys.”

He sips his drink, leering at you over the rim of the glass. “I’m a nice guy. At least, for you.” He nods his head toward the group of guys. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Would you care if I did?”

He throws his head back to laugh, throat covered in a light sheen of sweat. He looks at you over the glass, the first genuine smile not filled with something lingering on lust that he gives you. “No, but you told me to be nice.”

That makes you smile a bit. You bite your lip, trying to hide it, and decide to sip the drink. It’s good - strong - but good. “You seem like the type who wouldn’t care.”

“Awe don’t hurt my feelings. You’re like one of the hottest girls in here and I’m into it. If I had to ignore a ring or a boyfriend, I would. Is that so bad?” You shrug, sipping on the drink. You don’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Jimin doesn’t really seem to care. You think perhaps he likes hearing himself talk. It works out. Jimin fills the conversation with the normal what do you do and what do you like? You don’t miss the way he leans in toward you, or the way he glances at your mouth.

Still, you’re a little rigid. Your sentences aren’t as smooth and practiced as his. He doesn’t seem to care, shuffling a little close to you as the bar fills up with people. He smells like Axe Essence and the 5 gum he’s popped into his mouth between drinks.

“Trying to quit coke,” he snickers when he sticks another piece of gum in his mouth. “Got some bad press for it during last fashion week and my agency keeps threatening to drop me even though it's obviously a pre-fucking-requisite to walk for McQueen.”

“And chewing gum helps with that?”

“Not really, but it gives my mouth something to do and it soothes the muscle memory of hand to face.”

“Smart.”

“You look incredible by the way.” That makes you blush, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and ducking your head. Jimin chuckles, tapping your chin lightly with a finger to make you look back up at him. “Cute.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re a bit of a spoiled brat, huh?” That makes you frown and pull away. He whines, hands chasing your shoulders to draw you closer to him. “Stop. I like that. It means you have high standards and good taste.”

You hum, finishing the rest of your drink. You’re properly drunk now, the room tilting a little bit as a giggle escapes you when Jimin looks at you. He laughs back, sliding a glass of water over to you after he takes a few sips.

The water is refreshing. Your skin feels warm all over and you move a little slower, looking around. The club is more packed than you remember and there are more bodies on the dance floor. You watch the way people move together, pressed up against one another and grinding to the music humming through the air.

Jimin follows your gaze, leaning closer to you and popping his gum in your ear. “Wanna dance?”

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes. He grins and pushes off the bar, sliding a hand around your waist to shift you in front of him. You look at him over your shoulder with narrowed eyes and he smiles, tucking you to his chest and sliding his chin on your shoulder.

“Coming through,” he calls, walking you both through the group behind you. Ben-Brian-Brad glares at you and you avert your eyes as Jimin guides you toward the dance floor, pads of his fingers pressed firming into your hips and scouring marks into your skin. “Tool in the polo definitely has a small dick.”

You giggle as you peel apart, Jimin catching your hand as you turn to face him, pulling him with you. “What makes you say that?”

“His fucking collar is popped, baby.”

“I think he’s mad at me,” you admit.

“You’re way out of his league.”

“That’s true.”

Jimin wraps his hands around your wrist and yanks you to him. You gasp, stumbling as your chests press together. He slots a thigh between your legs, making you freeze for a moment as the music slows a bit. Jimin’s hands are confident where they settle on your waist, moving your hips in a soft rhythm as he begins to move.

Instincts take over. You wrap your arms around Jimin’s neck, letting him press his forehead against yours as he stares you down. He’s no longer controlling your hips but letting you move against him naturally, both of your bodies in sync.

Jimin is an amazing dancer, never forcing you to sway too much or trying to control your movements awkwardly. He rolls his hips into you experimentally once and you gasp lightly, noses brushing together.

“You’re fucking hot,” he mumbles, his breath fanning your face.

“So are you.”

Your fingers slide through the dark, sweaty strands at the back of his neck. He lets out an appreciative noise, making your insides melt. Your eyes drop to his lips, slightly parted, slicked with gloss from his pink tongue darting out to wet them. You wonder how soft they must feel, and the way he used his tongue to lick the salt from the rim of the tequila glass makes you wonder what kissing him is like.

You don’t have to wonder long. Jimin notices you staring. Gives you a wolfish grin. You think he looks wicked in the low light, all sharp eyes with a cunning smile.

And then he’s kissing you.

You make a sound of surprise, but it’s swallowed in his warm, minty mouth. Your fingers tighten in his hair as he presses the small of your back so that you’re impossibly closer.

It’s easy to forget you’re in the middle of the dance floor. Jimin’s mouth moves slowly against yours, sucking your bottom lip greedily as he pulls away for a split second. Before you can chase his lips with yours, he’s kissing you again, with a little more vigor and a curious tongue that swipes the seam of your lips.

You open your mouth to him and Jimin consumes you. You’re spinning, holding onto him for dear life as he sucks your tongue into his mouth. Fuck, you knew his tongue would be good. It makes you light-headed as he licks into your mouth, fingers clawing at you as a whine escapes his throat.

Suddenly the kiss breaks. You blink up at him, stars in your eyes and cotton-fuzz thoughts, lost in him. Jimin isn’t looking at you though, he’s looking at the DJ and yelling, pointing over your head as he detaches from you.

“This is my fucking song,” he yells at you, as though he hadn’t been tongue fucking your mouth a moment ago. You look at him, dazed and confused. He notices and pops a kiss on your mouth. “God, you're needy. Don’t pout, I’ll kiss you more after.”

“What makes you think I want to kiss you more?”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leans forward and kisses you once. Twice. It’s sweet and leaves your mind scattered as he guides you backward slightly before smacking your ass lightly.

“Watch,” he instructs. “And try not to be a brat about it, yeah?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Jerk by New Boyz is on in the background. Jimin sweeps his arms, backing people away before he starts walking quickly in a circle, bobbing his head to the music and making room for his little show.

A circle clears in the middle of the dance floor. You cross your arms with raised brows, Michael Kors clutch tucked in your armpit as you watch Jimin wave people back as the song plays. All eyes are on him, cheering as he nods and smirks at the crowd, turning to blow you a cheeky kiss.

You roll your eyes but smile anyways.

Jimin decides he has enough room and right as the chorus starts, he begins to hop and shuffle his feet backward then forward. The crowd goes wild, clapping their hands as he manages to execute the jerk without slipping on the beer and liquor-stained floor.

He spins and drops low, going down to the floor. The crowd yells for him, clapping and cheering him on as Jimin slowly works his way back up. His devious tongue is tucked against his plush upper lip, the hint of a smirk on his mouth.

More guys join the dancing, showing off their moves. Jimin, not one to be outshined, sticks his tongue out all the way, rolling his eyes back as he shakes his head and hooks a thumb in the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal a flawless set of abs, shining in the glittering lights.

The women go crazy as he laughs manically, gesturing to his impressive physique to the other dancers, who roll their eyes and back off. You’re jostled from side-to-side, rolling your eyes when Jimin drops his shirt and dances his way over to you, eyes looking you up and down.

You give him an unimpressed look, yawning and looking the other way as he grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh through the jeans. “Come on,” he purrs. “Spoiled brat not impressed?”

You are. You just don’t want to be.

“Nope,” you say.

He crowds your space as the circle closes and the song changes. Jimin presses his hips against yours and your stomach drops. Your eyes snap back to his as his hands brush backward, squeezing the sides of your ass.

Jimin’s hot breath touches your lips. He smells like tequila and his cologne. He’s sweating through the Ed Hardy shirt, making it cling to the firm body underneath. Your toes curly slightly as you bite your bottom lip, looking up at him through your lashes.

“If that’s how good I dance,” Jimin murmurs, so close that his nose is touching yours. “Imagine how good I lay pipe.”

You cringe at the way he phrases it, but you’re intrigued. Your friends taunting you for your lack of sexual experience earlier replays in your mind. So you play along, raising a brow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You wrap your arms around him when someone knocks into you. He noses the line of your jaw, breath warm in your ear when he whispers. “So like… you DTF or what?”

“What?”

“You know, down to fuck. I’ve been wanting to fuck the shit out of you since I saw you staring at me across the bar.”

“I was not staring.”

“Shit, I would stare if I were you too, baby.”

You smack his shoulder, pulling away from him slightly. Your heart pounds in your rib cage as you stare at him. His eyes are expectant, waiting for your response.

Before your ex, you would have never thought to sleep with someone you just met at a bar. You know very little about Jimin besides the fact that he likes to hear himself talk, that he’s a little arrogant and that he is wildly, ridiculously hot.

Jimin nibbles on his bottom lip, squeezing your hips to tell you he’s still waiting on an answer. The way your stomach flips and you already feel arousal at the cocky way he asserts himself tells you what you want to say.

“I think so…”

“You think so or you know so?” Your mouth is dry and you don’t know what to say, so you shrug. He seems to read you. “You never went home with a guy at a bar before?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he whines, sliding his hands in your back pockets. “I’ll be really sweet.”

“Yeah?”

He leans down, nudging his nose with yours. You laugh, leaning back a bit but Jimin is persistent, chasing the intimate contact. “Yeah. I’ll even make sure you cum first.”

“We’ll see.” His hands squeeze your ass through your pockets. “My place or-“

“Yours. My friends are stupid fucks.”

Sliding your hand in his, you pull Jimin along. He presses himself close to your back when you walk, sticking the hand not holding yours in your pocket to give your ass an experimental poke. You hiss at him but end up giggling when he wags his eyebrows up and down.

You find Tiffany and Nicole dancing with the original group of guys. Ben-Brian-Brad is glaring at you openly now, and Jimin is pressed behind you so close that you can feel the cool metal of his zipper on your lower back.

Tiffany and Nicole assure you they’re going to another club and will go to the beach house that the guy group is staying at. With gloss-stain cheek kisses and goodbyes, you leave them dancing as Jimin wraps a hand around your waist, gluing you together as you stumble out into the night.

The strip of bars is full of people. Cool air kisses your skin, making you moan in relief a bit as you begin walking toward your hotel. Your steps are uneven, you and Jimin pushing one another back and forth as you try to navigate your way home. You stumble a little too far when he presses a kiss to your neck, leaning on you too much for your drunk weight to bear and sending you several steps.

“Owww,” you whine. “That hurt my ankle. I’m in heels and my feet hurt, Jimin.” You drop his hand and look up at him, sticking out your bottom lip in an animated pout. “Give me a piggyback ride.”

“Hmmm. What do I get in return?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you ride my back, I need to… ride you.”

You roll your eyes. “I already told you I’ll have sex with you, idiot.”

“Yeah but I could really use a good blow job.”

You scrunch your nose. “Fine.”

Jimin grins, letting go of you to squat and look over his shoulder at you, eyes glittering. “All aboard the Park express. Next stop: pound town.”

Huffing, you place either hand on Jimin’s shoulders and jump a little. He catches you easily, hands gripping your thighs firmly. You shiver at the feeling of his hands. Jimin straightens and you wrap your arms around his neck, settling your chin over his right shoulder.

“You’re kind of a jerk-off, huh?”

He grins as he starts to walk. “A little. But you’re kind of a bitch, so I think it works.”

You hum - he has a point.

The piggyback ride is just as dangerous as the walk. Jimin walks crooked sometimes, only for you to yell and smack his shoulder to send him back in a straight line. He gets distracted by a pizza stand which makes you flick his ear. And when you’re finally in front of the automatic double doors to your hotel, he is gasping for air and immediately sags against the elevator wall.

“You’re fuckin’ heavy.”

“That is so rude.”

“Baby, I am wasted and I haven’t done coke in like a week. It’s not you - it’s me.”

“What a cheesy line.”

“Speaking of.” His hand feels around his back pocket before dipping into the fabric and removing a tiny Altoid tin. “My sobriety will not come at the expense of me cumming early. I’m going to need a little extra to fuck you right.”

“Thought you were quitting?”

“I mean, do you want me to get my dick up?” The elevator opens and you try to hide your laugh behind your hand. “And now you’re laughing at me? Baby you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“Sorry, it was just funny. Do whatever you want. You promised to make me cum first.”

“Never had a guy who did that?”

“Nope.”

Jimin makes a disgusted noise as you swipe the hotel key card in the reader. It flashes green and you swing the door open into the freezing room. It’s a little disheveled, but it’s at least not an embarrassing display of the room. You’re suddenly thrilled that it’s a suite with two rooms.

The door clicks behind you and Jimin slides closer to you, pulling you by the belt loops. You’re prepared for his kiss this time, opening your mouth the second his soft lips meet yours. It’s sloppy and wet, Jimin sucking your bottom lip hungrily as he pulls your belt loops a little harder.

Carefully, Jimin walks you backward. He taps the side of your thighs and dips down as you jump. He catches your legs, hauling you the rest of the way onto the island counter where you spread your legs for him.

Jimin slots himself between your thighs easily. At this height, you’re more on his level, but Jimin leans into you, pushing you back slightly as he controls the kiss. It’s more eager and demanding than the one in the club, Jimin sucking on your tongue and licking the rough of your mouth experimentally.

Planting his hands on either side of your ass on the counter, Jimin trails kisses along your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, and you become breathy. His mouth is noisy and wet against your skin, sucking at the tender flesh under your ear gently before biting lightly. The pinch of skin makes you moan, the sound lost in the lighting above the counter.

“So fucking pretty,” Jimin murmurs, continuing his assault with his mouth. His tongue is just as dangerous, licking over each bite he places as he drifts to your collarbone. “You want a line?”

You shake your head no. He presses closed-mouth kisses back up your neck until he’s straightened out to be eye-level. He brushes your nose with his. Sticks his tongue out and watches you expectantly. You tentatively stick yours out too, making a squeal when his tongue licks at yours.

“Weirdo,” you murmur, cheeks heated and shivering when he pulls away from you to pop open the Altoid tin. There’s a tiny plastic bag inside, sealing the white powder. “You like using tongue.”

Jimin hums in agreement as he stays between your legs, untwisting the bag. “I have a good tongue,” he says as he leans over, dumping a little onto the counter. You watch wordlessly. “I like to eat pussy too.”

You nearly lay back on the counter and ascend to heaven right there. No one has been so open and bold with you when speaking about sexual acts. And the fact that he says it so casually as he looks around for something flat with an edge makes you dizzy. You produce the room key and he grins, kissing your nose once before he takes it and cuts the powder into two, thin white lines.

“Do you need a bill too?” you joke. He shakes his head and pulls out a dollar bill that looks like it was once crisp but has been rolled over and over and over, making it look soft and pliant. “You don’t use hundreds?”

“I’m a model,” he grunts. “Not a Kardashian.”

That makes you laugh.

Jimin’s fingers are practiced as he rolls the bill. You can’t help but stare at the rings that you did not notice before, each one placed on a delicate finger. He has nice hands, veins jumping as he places one hand on the counter to hold himself up as the other holds the rolled bill.

Your knees squeeze his sides a bit as Jimin does the first line. It’s loud in the apartment with just the sound of his sharp inhaling, so you lean a bit to hit the iPod on the iHome dock, flicking through the touchscreen to find a song you like.

You settle on a playlist Tiffany has loaded in called Party Jamz. She Wolf starts playing loudly, drowning out the sound of Jimin finishing his second line as you hit the volume button a few times to lower it.

Straightening, you come face to face with Jimin as he wipes his nose a bit, taking a few sharp inhales. He runs his tongue along the edge of the room key before swiping his finger through the residue on the counter. There’s not much coke on the pad of his thumb, but he holds it to your mouth, watching.

Obediently, you open your mouth. He slides his thumb under your upper lip, rubbing gently on your gums. You taste how bitter the drug is, making a bit of a face that makes him giggle as he removes his finger from your mouth, sucking the thumb into his mouth briefly.

“You want a glass of water?”

You nod and he vanishes from in between your legs. He sings to himself as he grabs glasses and goes to the fridge, the ice machine loud above the music. You watch him with heavy eyes, your body feeling a little like liquid from all the tequila.

He reappears, holding a glass of water to your lips. He tilts it carefully as he drinks his own, dark eyes watching you. You sip carefully, the water cool and refreshing as he continues to tip the glass. A bead of water runs down your chin and neck.

Jimin is fast. He sets down both cups of water and surges forward, tongue chasing the bead of liquid as it runs down your throat. You lean backward, keeping yourself up with your palms planted on the cool counter as Jimin kisses and bites your neck. A moan escapes your mouth and absently, you’re glad you chose Jimin to go home with you.

You grab Jimin by his face, pulling kiss-bitten lips to yours and devouring him whole. He grunts in appreciation, mouth cooled by the water as his tongue dances with yours. His handles are not idle, rubbing up and down your jean-clad thighs, alternating between the gentle press of fingers and pointed drag of nails.

Jimin’s kissing is like nothing else you’ve had before. He’s skilled, leading you between fast, hungry clashing of teeth and tongue and slow, languid movements. You’re dizzy with him, a buzz of electricity under your skin and heat pooling in your stomach long before his hands dip to your zipper, pulling the metal down.

Eager hands slide to your hips where Jimin gathers the fabric. Your kiss breaks momentarily, a single line of spit connecting you for a second before you lift your ass off the counter, letting Jimin pull harshly at your pants. The fabric slides, making him cuss out loud when he realizes you’re not wearing underwear.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, tossing your jeans and pressing your thighs open. You shiver as the cold air hits your pussy. Jimin’s eyes are hungry as he drags a thumb up the center of your glossy folds, a high-pitched sound leaving you. “Spoiled brat wearing no underwear? You’re just dying to have this pussy fucked, huh?”

“Please.”

“Hmm.” Jimin presses his thumb into your clit. Your eyes roll back in your head. The pressure sends a shiver through you, sparking every nerve in your body as he barely wiggles his thumb back and forth. “Shit you’re so sensitive. Gonna scream while I eat you out?”

“Maybe.”

His thumb slides lower, teasing your clenching hole. You open your eyes, head heavy as you look at him. He’s slid down to his knees, looking up at you through long lashes with a smirk on his face. Your shirt is still on, but you don’t even care. Jimin’s hot breath is on your inner thighs as he bites your flesh softly, making your legs try to close.

“Don’t suffocate me,” he chastises you. “Wanna fuckin’ taste though.”

Everything turns to white noise as Jimin leans forward, running his long tongue from your dripping hole to your throbbing clit. You seize forward, gasping for air and clenching your fists as he pins your legs harder. Your muscles strain, the stretch a little painful but the good kind paired with the way he licks you slowly.

Your blood turns into melted metal. You go boneless, laying back on the counter, knocking over cups, sending them scattering. You knock into the iHome, the iPod coming disconnected and cutting off the music. It doesn’t matter. Now you can hear the way Jimin sucks at your clit, making you moan loudly.

From the moment you saw his tongue, you wondered what it would be like. You pictured nothing like this. Jimin eats you out slowly, tongue curious yet lazy as he circles your clit in a steady rhythm before sucking your bud into his mouth and squeezing with his lips lightly.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you whisper, voice hoarse from disuse. One of your hands falls across your eyes, blocking the light from the ceiling as Jimin splays you open for his mouth to explore. You’re panting, the other hand threading through his hair, gel making it easier to grab onto. “Feels so fucking good.”

And it does.

“Tastes so sweet,” he mumbles, pulling away with a lewd, loud suck on your clit. “Your pretty little hole is just fucking dripping. Gonna fuck you open with my fingers to get you nice and stretched for me.”

You can’t come up with a verbal response. Something like a whine and hum of agreement slips out. Your hips twitch as his mouth turns firmer, tongue flicking over your clit quickly followed by his lips sucking at your wet hole.

There has never been a time someone enjoyed themselves so much while paying attention to your pleasure. Jimin is skilled and focused on bringing his fingers into the action. You feel him slowly trace the rim of your entrance with his fingers, applying just enough pressure to make you curse and squirm but not enough to slide in.

It fucking aches. Your fingers tighten in his hair, begging him to make you feel fuller. Jimin chuckles, the vibrations going straight through you, your muscles spasming.

Slowly, Jimin adds a single finger, the slide relieving some of the tension directly in your pussy. You let out a soft breath, sagging on the counter as he matches the gentle in-and-out of his finger with the steady licking of his tongue on your clit.

The tight feeling of your orgasm is winding like a spring in your stomach. You can feel it, the pressure building and so compact that you struggle to breathe, finding yourself gasping for air when Jimin adds another finger to the mix. He applies pressure right against your front wall, pressing that spot that has you seeing stars.

You might be babbling now. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth. Stars are dancing behind your eyes and you struggle to remember not to hold your breath, to try and regulate your breathing as he increases speed. He’s messy now, sucking and licking and rubbing his nose against your clit. Jimin uses his entire face to get you off and you’re spiraling.

It all happens at once. A deep breath in. Held tight in your chest, muscles seizing and your body going rigid. Jimin’s fingers push against your g-spot hard as he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream.

Your orgasm snaps in half, everything going loose at once. You feel yourself clench around his fingers, so tight that Jimin pauses his movements, tongue licking at your sensitive pussy gently as you shake. Your hands cover your face now, breathing rapidly into your palms as the room fills with white noise.

After a moment, your muscles start to relax. Jimin gives an experimental thrust with his fingers and you whine, making him laugh.

“God, you came so fucking hard,” he growls from between your legs. He gently pulls his fingers from you, making you protest and drop your hands from your face. You open your eyes as the room spins, lifting your head to look where Jimin now stands between your legs. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, smirking around them. “Mmm. You’re a creamer. I like that.”

You have no response for him. He doesn’t need one. Jimin lifts you from the counter and for a moment, the world tilts dangerously on its axis and you think you might vomit. The spinning is short-lived as he carries you to the bedroom, tossing you on the bed hard enough to make you bounce.

“Jesus Christ, Jimin,” you mumble, righting yourself in the sheets. He laughs, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it. Your eyes zero in on his body and your mind goes blank. “Jesus Christ, Jimin.”

“Jesus had nothing to do with this.” He smacks his abs with a hand. “This is creatine, determination, and seven days a week at the gym, baby.”

Jimin flexes his stomach. His chest and abs are toned and well-defined. The low lighting of the bar had done him an injustice that is rectified in the lamp light of the bedroom. There’s a black tattoo on his ribcage that you can’t read, but think looks really good on him anyway.

Jeans slung low on his hips, Jimin shuffles over to the bed. You can see his dick straining against his pants. When he leans over to catch your lips with his, your hand immediately goes to his crotch, gripping gently through the material. He moans into your mouth, the kiss full of spit and your essence.

From the way your hand presses against his straining cock, you can tell Jimin is big. With nervous hands, you pull at his zipper. He pulls away for a moment, leaving you frowning and confused.

“How do you get this fucking shirt off,” he mumbles, sliding a finger under the strap going across your stomach. “It��s confusing.”

“Like a normal shirt,” you giggle.

“Like a normal shirt,” he mimes in a high-pitched voice. “Off. Wanna see those fucking tits.”

Leaning forward, you help Jimin pull your shirt off, followed by the pink bra with a little bow in the middle. He doesn’t seem to have an appreciation for lingerie, immediately pushing you down by your sternum once you’re fully naked so he can lavish your chest with his mouth.

Jimin’s mouth is always hungry. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, making you gasp and forget that you had been trying to get his pants off. You go limp as his tongue flicks over your pert bud experimentally, his other hand tweaking the opposite peak. Both bring out a response, eliciting a grin from him.

Remembering that Jimin is still in jeans, your hands surge forward, pulling at the zipper. You can see Calvin Klein briefs peaking just out the top of his jeans. With the zipper undone, there’s enough room for you to slide your hand in and grip Jimin’s cock firmly over the fabric of his briefs.

“Shit,” he moans, head resting in the valley of your breasts. “Come on, take my cock out. Wanna stuff that mouth of yours full.”

You don’t hesitate. You help Jimin out of his jeans, momentarily distracted by his powerful thighs and the way they flex as he bends to pull his briefs down. Your mouth goes dry as his heavy cock bobs against his navel when he’s free of his briefs.

Jimin might be a lithe model, but his cock is anything but.

Smooth, heavy, flushed-brown tip, and thick. Your hand goes for it as he crawls up the bed, straddling your waist and looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. Your hand wraps around the velvet shaft, making him twitch a bit. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, watching you give an experimental stroke.

Jimin moans. It’s such a pretty sound. You shift under him to give yourself a better angle. Your hand drifts upward, collecting the pearly precum gathered at his tip. You spread it on his shaft on the downstroke, watching as Jimin’s eyes close, head falling back.

You gather spit in your mouth, letting go of his cock briefly. He looks down as if to chastise you, but before his comment can escape, you spit into your palm and bring it back up to his cock, giving a smooth stroke, grip firmer and more precise as you twist at the head.

“God,” he moans as you watch his muscles spasm in his abs. “Don’t just jerk me off like a middle schooler, put me in your mouth.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m trying. Just suck me off a bit first.”

You huff at his impatience.

Sliding further down the bed, Jimin meets you halfway, lowering a bit so that you can pull the tip of his cock into your mouth for an experimental suck. He curses and you grin, the saltiness on your tongue spurring you to take him in a little further.

It’s a vulnerable angle. Jimin can control the pace and fuck down into your mouth if he wants. Instead, he’s patient as you let the spit collect in your mouth, lifting your head to take a little more in your mouth each time.

Your tongue runs along the bottom of his shaft, providing a smooth glide as Jimin helps you out, sinking into your mouth a little more each time. He’s cursing and moaning above you, lost in the way you hollow your cheeks to provide better suction. You’re fascinated by the way his long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, and you realize he has a few freckles that are… endearing.

It’s a weird thing to notice, so you suck harder, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Jimin grows more needy, fucking into your mouth so that he’s controlling the pace. You adjust, letting your jaw go slack to accommodate the stretch - and it’s a difficult stretch - making sure to guard your teeth and to let your drool help the glide.

“Your mouth takes my cock so well,” he hums. “How about that throat? Can I fuck that too?”

You nod, which is difficult with a mouth full of Jimin’s precum and cock. He grits his teeth, grabbing the bottom of your jaw gently to adjust the angle and start fucking into your mouth in earnest.

Breathing is difficult - you remind yourself to try and breathe through your nose, letting out little sounds of euphoria around him that rile him up. You can feel your essence dripping down your thighs, turned on by the way Jimin growls every time the tip kisses the back of your throat.

Once or twice your throat seizes up around him. He’s careful to pull out and let you breathe for a moment, spit and a little cum leaking down the sides of your mouth and down your chin, tears pooling in your eyes.

With one hand, Jimin slides the glossy tip of his cock through the mess on your chin before tracing your lips a few times, smearing the mess over your swollen mouth.

“Lipstick,” he murmurs, nearly ruining the moment.

Before you can reply, Jimin slides his cock back into the heat of your mouth, sighing in relief as he starts to thrust in earnest again.

Just as the crown of his cock starts to brush the deeper part of your throat, Jimin pulls out, cursing. “Need to fuck this messy pussy of yours or I’ll bust,” he growls. “Turn over for me. Let me see that pretty ass.”

Crawling from underneath him, you do as he says, too eager to care that he’s bossing you around. Your limbs are trembling as you prop yourself up on your knees, ass in the air and chest and head pressed to the bed. You look at him sideways, cheek on the mattress as he settles behind you, hands kneading the fat of your ass, giving you experimental squeezes.

It feels nice, the way his hands soothe your muscles and skate over soft flesh. He gives you an experimental slap and you squeal, making him grin.

“Gunna rearrange your fucking guts,” he murmurs, grabbing the base of his cock.

“Wait - condom?”

He gives you a look. “What? Are we in middle school? I’m not fucking you with a condom, I won’t feel shit.”

“What? How do I know if you’re clean?”

“Um, does it look like I have something?”

“You can’t always tell.”

“Well, I don’t have a condom.”

You pause, glaring at him. Neither one of you moves. “Okay, well then pull out.”

He scoffs. “Obviously I’m going to cum in your mouth like a gentleman.”

You roll your eyes. Even though he is wildly attractive and can pull an orgasm out of you with oral, Jimin is still a fucking ass. But he’s an ass who is good at what he does, so you shut up.

Not that you can speak as he runs his cockhead through your wet folds. You moan, hearing how wet you are for him. He pushes the tip of his cock in slightly, just enough to make your hole flutter around him. You gasp, fists twisting in sheets as he sits there, letting you clench and unclench around him.

“Jimin,” you moan.

“Ask nicely,” he teases. “Or you’re just gonna get the tip of my cock. I can feel your pussy fucking begging for it. Now you need to ask.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Yeah? Want me to split you open?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to fuck that cervix until you’re screaming?” You pause. He pauses. “Okay that wasn’t very hot, was it?”

“Not really-”

Jimin cuts you off, thrusting in hard on a single upstroke. You gasp, mind going blank and forgetting about his terrible fumble at dirty talk as his cock does hit something inside of you that sends you into a torrent of heat and trembling limbs.

He sets a fast pace, not letting you adjust to his girth. Jimin’s hips piston perfectly against yours, your ass snapping back into his hips with each thrust. You can barely breathe, panting into the sheets as you bounce backward, sharing the effort to meet him for each powerful stroke.

It feels amazing.

You close your eyes, getting lost in the way his cock fills up every part of you, the slide smooth and velvet against your walls, the tip brushing gently against your g-spot every time he thrusts in.

Your stomach feels like it's flipping over and over again, each one of Jimin’s thrusts so deep you swear you feel it in your chest. Your thoughts start to slip away, your front half sinking further into the mattress as Jimin’s fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“Fuck,” he pants. “This pussy is so fucking tight. You're just fucking taking it and this ass-” he slaps your flesh sharply, making you squeal. “You hear that? Fucking getting clapped.”

You don’t have it in you to be annoyed at him. And he has a point - the slap of hips against ass, balls against pussy is loud.

The same feeling coils in your stomach again. You squeeze your eyes shut, barely able to breathe around the pleasure and the feeling of Jimin fucking you so full. It winds and winds and winds, and as it’s about to snap, you hold your breath.

Jimin gives a hard thrust followed by another, and you cum with a scream. You go from frozen, clenched muscles to boneless limbs in a moment. Jimin presses his hands into the small of your back, pushing you so far into the mattress that you can barely breathe as you bear his full weight.

With a few disjointed thrusts, Jimin cums, grunting and digging nails into your back.

For a few moments, neither of you moves. You can barely remember where you are, much less ask Jimin to pull his weight off of you to give you air. He’s still pressed into you, the heavy weight of him sinking you further into sweat-soaked sheets.

Jimin relents. He slowly pulls his cock out of you and you feel the mess slicking between your legs. It’s sticky and wet, more than you have ever felt before. He falls unceremoniously to the side, nearly wheezing for air.

The room is filled with heavy breaths and the smell of sweat and sex. Strands of hair and sheets stick to your skin. You shuffle, trying to roll over a bit to look at him. Your limbs are sore and stretched from the press of his hands and the force of his hips spreading yours, but it’s a good sore.

Jimin is flushed, sweaty, and half-asleep. His hand is on his stomach, sticky with cum.

“OH MY GOD YOU DIDN’T PULL OUT!” You scream, sitting up with sheets stuck to your back and hair all over. “YOU ASSHOLE!”

“Please stop screaming,” he groans, covering his face. “I’ll buy you Plan B in the morning.”

“You’re the fucking worst!”

“Well,” he sighs. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll fuck you again to make you feel better.”

You cross your arms over your chest, heart racing. You stare at Jimin for a moment. Two moments. You drop your arms and lay back on the bed. “Yeah,” you huff. “Fine, whatever.”

Who were you to turn down another round like that? Your ex and his Escalade are long forgotten now.

#jimin x reader #park jimin fanfic #jimin smut #park jimin smut #jimin x you #jimin bts #park jimin bts #jejushore #bts collab

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years ago

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B [bath] with carlos <3

love me some carlito, the love of my life.

also thank u @vamossainz55 for helping me with translations <3

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

prompt: so you had a bad day - [ BATH ]: sender runs a hot bath for the receiver after a particularly challenging day.

one of the many things you love most about carlos is his dedication and passion for his job. there isn't anything more attractive than carlos talking about the technical and logistical side of thing. and sure maybe you don't understand the numbers, maybe you can't fully wrap your head around how the aerodynamics work, but it doesn't change the fact that you could listen to carlos talk about it for ages.

and as strong as his mind is, his physical state is no different. even while on break, he wakes up early for a run and still fits in an hour workout after the fact. and the preparation is even more intense leading up to a race weekend. his training leading up to singapore was beyond insane, spending hours just sweating and getting ready for the hot and humid conditions of the city. every day he'd come home, absolutely drenched in sweat and ready for the coldest shower known to man. and then his head hits the pillow to go straight to sleep.

his performance come race day, though lacking in pace, was consistent enough to secure a spot on the bottom step of the podium. but you see how tired he is as he walks up to you and his team to accept the love and congratulations you all have to give. you watch proudly, next to charlotte, but the exhaustion on his face was evident as he accepts his p3 trophy and sprays champagne on his friends.

you give him a quick kiss and leave him with some kind words as you head back to the hotel while he finishes with the press. when he comes back, the color is completely drained from his face. you greet him at the door, and smiles at you tiredly.

"por que no estas dormida?" he asks, dropping his things by the door. why are you not sleeping?

"was waiting for you," you mumble, kissing his cheek.

he chuckles, "i just need five minutes, cinco minutos, then i'll get ready for bed. and then we can sleep. okay?"

you nod and he walks past you and flops on the loveseat by the air conditioning. you watch as he leans back, head falling back as he enjoys the cold air.

"feeling okay?" you ask, eyeing him.

"sí, just tired and sore," he mumbles, eyes still shut.

you don't say anything, watching him for a couple seconds more before you decide to retreat to the bathroom. you run the hot water, filling the tub and adding the hotel body wash to add bubbles. you let it fill just under three-fourths of the way. when you come back outside, carlos is already standing over his luggage, shirt on the floor and pants already unbuttoned and open.

you smile, watching as he pulls out a pair of boxers, before walking over to the bathroom. he looks at you quizzically, tilting his head as he approaches you.

"what are you smiling about?"

you shake your head, "nothing. c'mon." you take his hand and pull him into the bathroom. "i ran you a bath... figured it'll help you relax after the day you've had."

carlos chuckles, lifting your hand to give it a kiss. "eres tan buena conmigo, mi amor." you are so good to me, my love.

"least i can do. i'm so proud of you." you whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes that are filled with love and adoration. he looks down at you, eyes just as bright.

"thank you. now take this off," he plucks at your shirt, "and come join me."

fluff party!

#lightsoutsainz fluff party #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr fluff #cs55 drabble

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yourdeepestfathoms · 2 years ago

Text

things i think could kill Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg

Toast popping out of the toaster when it’s done

Warrior Cats MAPs

Ice dispensers on refrigerators

A Roomba

Automatic toilets

Amber Alerts

Tornado sirens

TV cutting to static

Lawnmowers

McDonald’s Sprite

School fire alarms

Drinking orange juice after brushing her teeth

Drinking water after having a mint

Specifically the yellow Warheads

Biting ice the wrong way

Gacha Heat

A trip to Hooters

A trampoline

A 4D theater

Metal detectors

Pop Rocks

One Gusher

Pools that smell too much like chlorine

Roman Holiday by Nicki Minaj

Temple Run

Pickle juice

A FNaF jumpscare

Touching an electric fence

One singular sour Skittle

Any part of a video game where the controller vibrates

The mere smell of sea salt and vinegar chips

Sparkling water

A tanning bed

One drop of Diet Coke

Hot tubs that are a little too hot

The performance for Hibikase x Echo (she’d see Miku break out of the screen and would DIE)

Also the performance for Bring It On (her little heart couldn’t take all that energy)

Honestly attending a whole Vocaloid concert would end her

A haunted house

A firecracker

You know those things you throw on the ground and they pop? Those

The sound of a firework exploding

Police sirens

Thunder that’s so loud it shakes the whole building

A wave pool at a water park

8D music

Axe body spray

One glance into Victoria’s Secret

A Bath and Body Works store

A single sip of Fireball

The back of Spencer’s

A York Peppermint Patty

Discord light mode

The concept of a mommy/daddy kink

Driving in a car with all the windows down

One hour in direct sunlight

A dog barking at her once

Not chewing up a chip enough so one of the chip shards scrapes down her throat

Maybe a roller coaster? idk though

American Horror Story’s intro

What Does The Fox Say

That part in Silent Hill 3 where Heather throws up the fetus of God and then Claudia eats it

Patting her back too hard

Thirty minutes of Subnautica

Biting ice cream with her front teeth

The “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” tag on AO3

A brain freeze

Dark chocolate

Any smut fanfiction

The cinnamon challenge

Putting food in her mouth when it’s still too hot so her mouth gets burned

An ice bath

Stubbing her toe

Not being able to refer to an adult as “sir/ma’am”

A mean word

Being yelled at

Any Mr. Nightmare video

That part in Oxenfree where the screen flips upside down

Being shocked

One of these

#I’m right #ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc headcanons #ride the cyclone headcanons #ocean o’connell rosenberg

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softsnzstuff · 2 years ago

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Thinking about Eddie taking care of a sick Chrissy :,) washing her hair and blowing it dry for her <3

Ahh so cute and soft 😭. Modern day AU!!

***

Knelt down next to the bathtub, Eddie tan his fingertips through the water. Hot but not too hot. Just what he wanted.

“Bath is ready for you, Chris!” He called over to the next room.

Chrissy was huddled in a fluffy bathrobe while she waited for the bath to be drawn. As she walked into the room she stared at Eddie.

“Are you…staying in here too?” She chuckled.

“Absolutely! I’m gonna wash your hair for you.” He gave a goofy smile as she shrugged off her robe. “Damn. You’re beautiful.”

“I’m sick, Eddie.” She laughed as she stepped into the tub and sat down.

“Hey, the two are not mutually exclusive.”

She shook her head and pulled her knees close to her chest. The hot water felt amazing, not only warming her up, but easing the slight aches she’d acquired overnight.

Eddie leaned forward and grabbed the detachable shower head, making sure the water wasn’t too hot or too cold.

“Told your head back for me?” He asked.

Chrissy did as she was told while he sprayed her hair at the hairline, careful to avoid her face and eyes. He set the nozzle aside as he massaged some of her strawberry shampoo into her hair, working his way down and massaging at her shoulders a bit too.

“Feel good?” He asked.

“Mmhmm. Feels grehh great - h’kt’iyue! Etssiew! snfsnff H’iKSHiew!”

Her body tensed with each kittenish sneeze, sending small waves lapping up against the porcelain.

“Bless you!” Eddie planted a kiss on her soapy temple. “Let’s get you rinsed off and back in bed, hmm?”

Chrissy nodded, sniffling against her wrist. Eddie turned on the shower head again, rinsing his girlfriend’s blonde hair. When he was done, he squeezed out any excess water and then held open the fluffiest towel for her.

She stood up and leaned into him as he wrapped it around her. He let her start to towel herself dry while he went to plug in the hair dryer. When he turned around, Chrissy’s face was scrunched up again and she was holding a corner of the towel in front of her face.

“iitschUMPF! Xtch’iyue! Hi’TShiew!”

She groaned as she wiped the underside of her nose with the towel. Eddie walked over, laughing sympathetically as he hugged her.

“Bless you again. Here.” He handed her some clothes. Her favorite sick day ones - her pajama joggers, fluffy socks, and Eddie’s coziest crewneck sweatshirt.

“Thanks bub.” She put the clothes on and then stood over by Eddie. He clicked on the hair dryer, warm air enveloping her small frame.

Using her hair brush as well, he smiled as he blew her hair dry. Warm golden strands falling gently down her back.

“I made you some tea earlier. It should be cool enough to drink now.” He shouted over the air coming from the hair dryer.

She turned her head slightly to look up at him, “Thanks Eddie!”

When she was all warm and dry, they moved back to the bedroom. Eddie was sat propped up against the headboard, Chrissy sitting in front of him in between his legs.

As she sipped her tea and watched the episode of Bake Off, her boyfriend was haphazardly braiding her hair into pigtails.

“Thank you for taking care of me Eddie.”

“Thanks you for letting me practice my braiding…it’s not very good.”

Chrissy laughed, “Well I hope you don’t catch this, but if you do, I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

#s/tranger t/hings #e/ddie m/unson #c/hrissy c/unningham #modern AU #ask box #snzblr #kb writes #e/dissy

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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Hallu brick^^ so I'm a coward, so I do this anonymously... whatever. So, I had the idea that if Overhaul had a darling he'd totally set times were she'd be supposed to bath and how long she has to be in the bath and he'd get mad if she didn't (probably leading to punishment) and than one day he purposely keeps her from getting into the bath on time so that she'll definitely still be in the bath once it's his turn? Like, he'd be more comfortable to touch her then, because she'd obviously be clean and she just wants to run away but can't cause she's shy and he's stronger and he'd punish her o.o you can do with this whatever you like it was just a random idea that hit me...

Have a nice day,

Blue

omg he so would

Will insist that you bathe before him so he doesn’t have to stay up late waiting for you to finish. When you’re done, you have to stay in the bathroom with him, just so he can keep an eye on you. You’re supposed to sit and stay quiet, don’t speak, don’t look at him, don’t breathe too loud.

You’re always supposed to get out at 7pm, water drained and tub scrubbed in preparation for his bath. If you neglect to do so you’re in for a world of hurt, scornful looks, degrading and hateful words about how you’re so stupid and worthless you can’t even do something as simple as cleaning a tub. If Kai is in a particularly bad mood he might slap you, and sneer when you cry.

He keeps giving you task after task one night, and it’s getting later and later and then it’s 6:57 and you’re freaking out, trying to decide whether it’s even worth it to start the water for your bath.

Kai comes in the bathroom, stripping off his gloves and undoing his tie, a shrewd glance thrown your way.

“You’ve finished up?”

How do you tell him you haven’t even started? Your hands are twisted together as you nervously shift from foot to foot by the tub.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His voice is low, Kai isn’t even looking at you. He’s checking himself in the mirror, trying to decide whether to shave tonight or tomorrow.

“I....You had me helping until just a few minutes ago, there hasn’t been any ti-”

Kai silences you with a raised hand, teeth grinding together as he hunches over the sink. The silence that falls upon the bathroom feels like it’s a death sentence.

“Fine.” The man finally concludes, straightening up and beginning to remove the rest of his clothes. “You’ll wash with me. There’s no way I’m letting your disgusting self soil the bedsheets with filth.”

And then he’s fully stripping and you want to cry, knowing that if you don’t go along with this there will be pain and suffering ten times over.

Kai makes you shower first, stepping in alongside you to wash himself underneath the spray. He studies the way you clean yourself, each pass of the soaped-up loofah on your skin. It feels like he’s scrutinizing your atoms.

“Hands up and stay still.” Comes an order, and you’re terrified to follow it, terrified to disobey.

Hands go up, Kai takes the loofah from your hands and starts scrubbing away at your skin. Hard enough to leave you raw and your skin hurting, glowing from the abuse.

It especially hurts when he drags the loofah over your chest, across your nipples without a care for the sensitivity of them. He’s getting you clean.

“Turn around, put your hands on the wall and spread your legs.”

It’s humiliating to have him wash you like this, trading out the loofah for a washcloth to clean your privates, fondling all of you without a care. At least he doesn’t seem to be doing it with any sexual intentions - no, he just wants you sparkling clean and didn’t trust you to do it yourself.

When he’s satisfied, only then does he usher you into the heat of the bath, commanding you to sit before he joins you, lean legs bracketing your own.

“Relax.” It’s hard to, with being naked and having a well-known criminal sitting close enough to touch you. At least the burn of the water distracts you from too many dark thoughts, worrying about what he might be thinking of doing to you.

“I said relax. you look stupid when you shake like that.” A hand clamps down on your shoulder and you involuntarily freeze, going stock still. “If you can’t, I’d be more than happy to give you an injection to calm you down.”

Last time he had pressed a needle to your skin, you hadn’t been able to remember the entirety of the next 24 hours, just bits and pieces that haunted your mind. You didn’t want an injection.

A long breath in, a long breath out, and conscious intending of your shoulders seemed to please Kai, because he sunk lower in the water with a please sigh.

“You really are quite the specimen.”

The odd comment makes you want to tense up again, especially when it’s paired with a warm, tanned hand stroking up your arm.

“So soft. It’s almost distracting.” His other hand begins to rub at your other arm and you feel trapped. “I’ve seen you nude plenty of times before, but I guess I hadn’t noticed how.... intriguing your body really is.”

The man behind you shuffles closer, water sloshing all around you. You close your eyes tight, as if that would keep out all the scary things you heard in his tone.

“I think it’s time I did a little exploring, especially with you being so clean. It’ll be quite the experiment, seeing how your body works. Don’t get too excited.”

MAN that would just be ahhhhh he’s so creepy and so standoffish. geez, Chisaki gives me goosebumps.

#chisaki #Chisaki kai #kai chisaki #Yandere kai chisaki #Yandere chisaki #Yandere bnha #chisaki smut #Kai Chisaki smut #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #tw.smut #tw.dark content

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years ago

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Vacation (Belphie x GN!Reader) Slight NSFW

(Did I go extra hard on the beach fic? Yes. Yes I did. Are my posting hours absolutely horrid... also yes. It's 3:30AM and I finally finished this fic though! YAY! I also did not read through this before I posted. I'll read it when I wake up to check for mistakes. I need a nap.)

Word Count : 5.1K

You loved the beach, everything about it was so relaxing. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, the smell of saltwater that was carried to your nose with the ocean’s breeze. The only thing that made being there right now better was the fact that Belphie was there with you. You loved Belphie, everything about him screamed perfection, even though he disagreed most of the time you said he was. His disregard for most of humanity aside from yourself, his constant scowl which he probably thought was menacing and scary but you just found it adorable.

It was shocking at first that he actually agreed to go with you, and you thought for sure that he’d want to stay home and just sleep while, but, much to your surprise, he jumped at the opportunity to go to the beach with you. He even said that it would be fun, which… well he wasn’t wrong… but hearing him say something like that… even if it was mumbled, it was kind of shocking.

“You got a room… in a hotel… that’s on the beach… with a balcony that overlooks the beach?” Belphie said, looking around the room as the two of you walked in. As soon as the door was shut, you dropped your bags to the floor and ran to the balcony doors, throwing them open and running out to lean over the railing with Belphie following close behind and quickly wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t do that. You could have flipped over the edge… dork.”

You could only laugh at his worry, but then again, according to him you were fragile, and humans were inherently clumsy most of the time, so you didn’t really blame him for thinking that you’d accidentally lean too far over and do a front flip over the railing… but it was still kind of funny. “I’m not going to fall over the edge, Belph. I’ve done this a lot. And…” You turned in his arms so you could wrap your own around his waist. “Yes, a balcony with an ocean view. The weather said there would be a thunderstorm this week, and I’m hoping they’re right. I love watching the lightning hit the water… the thunder is so loud. It’s amazing.” He chuckled softly, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your hand and dragged you back into the room, not wanting to leave you on the balcony unattended any longer.

“The storm better not hit until the last day. I want to go surfing.” He said as he grabbed his own bag off the floor and moved it onto the bed, quickly pulling out his bathing suit. You were stuck on the whole surfing thing though because… well… it doesn’t need to be explained. It’s just fucking hot. He snapped his fingers to get your attention after you hadn’t responded, rolling his eyes when you blinked a few times and focused back on him. “You alright? You zoned out for a second there.”

“Mhm… I’m good.” You whispered shyly, dragging your own bags away from the door so you could pull out your own bathing suit. “It’s a good time to go down… everyone is clearing out for the day and the sun isn’t going to be beating as hard.” You weren’t really sure if he was listening, you could still hear him rummaging through his own bag as you talked. You were mainly talking to yourself though, looking up out the balcony doors and watching as the umbrellas on the beach slowly dwindled as everyone started heading back to their own hotels.

“You still need sunscreen.” It actually sounded like he was scolding you, and it wouldn’t be the first time he called your ass out for not wearing it. “I’m not having you get burnt on our first day here. You’ll spend the rest of the vacation in pain, and then I’ll have to hold back from saying I told you so because you won’t be in the mood to hear it. Plus…” He tossed the sunscreen onto the bed that was closest to you before squatting down behind you, trailing his fingers along your neck and down your shoulders. “If you got burnt… you wouldn’t enjoy me touching you as much…”

God damn if he wasn’t right, and you hated that he was right. “Hmph… fine.” You groaned, and honestly, you just hated the way the sunscreen felt. It made your arms stick to your sides and you just felt… sticky… and you could never get it off your hands after putting it on. It was a pain in the ass… but he was right, and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy anything if you got burnt, and you definitely weren’t going to spend an entire week in a nice ass hotel with an ocean view and not at least cuddle with him. “You’re putting it on me though.”

“I never said I wouldn’t.” He said it teasingly, kissing your neck before standing back up. “Go change. The waves look pretty good right now, I want to get down there.” He had already started pulling his shirt off and unbuttoning his shorts as you got up off the floor. It was one thing for him to change in front of the balcony doors, he didn’t really care if anyone saw him naked… But he didn’t want anyone else to see you that way. Only he could, and if someone did happen to see you that way, he’d have to kill them and then it would ruin the vacation and neither of you wanted that.

Of course he held your hand on the way down the beach. He wasn’t going to let anyone else look at you, and even if they did, they’d see that your hand was in his and you were his, so they better just fuck right off with their thoughts and their intentions because it isn’t going to happen and you aren’t going to do the things that they are thinking with anyone but him.

“I hate walking in the sand with flip flops…” You mumbled as your feet sunk into the sand with every step, struggling to take steps because the sand kept basically absorbing your flip flop which is the most annoying shit.

“You could always go barefoot.” He said, as if you didn’t already know that… but also walking barefoot on the beach after the sun had been beating on it for hours wasn’t the most pleasant experience either.

“I’d rather not burn my feet… How close do you want to get to the water anyway? I usually stay close to the top so I don’t have to be around all the people.” Which was the truth. You hated being surrounded by other beach goers, and most of them smelt an awful lot like spray tan or beer or both. The ocean breeze would miraculously always start up whenever they were spraying their spray tans on and it would get in your eyes or your mouth, and you’d just rather not be anywhere near them. Plus… who puts on spray tan at the beach? Just lay in the sun. It’s easier and looks more real because it is real. Ugh… people.

“Close enough that I can still see you from the ocean. Right here should be good…” He stopped right at the middle of where the line of umbrellas started and where there was nobody. It was like an invisible line in the sand, and Belphie decided that he wanted his spot to be on both sides of it. He stuck the umbrella into the sand to mark the spot and you finally let yourself sit down before even putting down the towel. You were tired. Walking through the sand is a workout. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re forgetting something.” He practically cooed the last part to you, and you knew exactly what he was talking about, but you wished that he had forgotten.

He started digging through the bag that you had loaded with drinks and snacks because the beach experience isn’t complete unless you’ve tried to eat a sandwich while a multitude of seagulls stand at the edge of your towel and squawk at you to feed them. (But you don’t because it’s not healthy for them. Please don’t feed the seagulls your food.) “I don’t need sunscreen. I’m just gonna be sitting under the umbrella the whole time.” He hummed softly, knowing that you were wrong. Who goes to the beach and sits under the umbrella the whole time? You knew that you weren’t going to, but damn… you really hated the feeling of sunscreen. It makes you cringe. Why is it so sticky????

You laid out the towel and decided that it would be pointless to even try to argue against him. He was right in the hotel room about the sunburn, and it wouldn’t be as bad if he was the one rubbing it on you. “I’m sure a little sunscreen is better than a sunburn…” He said as he squirted it onto his hands. “Lay down, I said I’d put it on you.” You quickly obliged, laying on your stomach and resting your head on your arms as he rubbed it together between his hands before placing them on your shoulders. The feeling sent a shiver through you, and you weren’t sure whether it was just because the sunscreen was cold or if it was his touch that made your body respond that way. “You’re cute… relax babe… this isn’t the first time I’ve touched you.” He teased as his hands made their way down your back, squeezing your sides lightly before rubbing slowly over your entire back and then working down to your legs. Luckily your face was hidden in your arms so he couldn’t see your blushing. His touch was doing things to you that you knew you couldn’t act upon on the beach so it would probably be a while before you got up anyway. “Alright, roll over.” He didn’t really wait for you to roll over, taking it upon himself to do it and then smiling smugly when he saw the flustered look on your face.

“I think I’m just gonna…. Stay here for a little bit… while you go out and…” He had already started running his hands over your chest which had made your sentence get cut short. It would be too noticeable that he was making you flustered if you just covered your face now, so you tried to keep calm as his hands continued to work. You let out a gasp as his thumbs accidentally flicked over your nipples, a quiet hum escaping him as he watched them perk up. “Belphie…” You whined, but he only laughed in response, moving his hands lower until they were at your hips. Your eyes grew wider, and he knew exactly why, and for a second you thought he’d just tease you more, but he knew that if he did that you’d just be begging him to take you back to the room and those activities were for later.

He had finally finished, and part of you wished that he hadn’t because obviously you loved having his hands on you like that, but also you were in public and it couldn’t go any further than that either. “So do you want to go down there with me or do you need a minute?” He joked as he got up, grabbing his surfboard and holding it under his arm. “Would you rather me stay up here wi-”

“You can go! I just… Just need a second.” Your voice cracked as you said it, further accentuating just how flustered he had made you. You ran your hands over your face and sighed, to which he laughed at. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” You grumbled. You were now thoroughly turned on, it was hot out, you were covered in sunscreen, and he looked really good standing above you like that.

“It actually is really funny. I’ll meet you down there… oh wait… hold up…” He leaned over, booping your nose with his pointer finger which still had sunscreen on it. You wrinkled your nose at him, sticking your tongue out before rolling over onto your stomach. “Aww, you’ll thank me for it later when your nose is sunburn free and not peeling.” He started walking off, that much you could tell as the sun that he had been blocking finally hit your back.

It didn’t take too long for you to gain back your composure. Now that he was off walking down to the ocean, you could actually focus on calming down and relaxing in the sun that was practically baking you because the umbrella wasn’t blocking out anything now that the sun was setting. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the warmth of the sun against your skin had you close to dozing off, but you wanted to see him, you wanted to watch him, so you fought off the urge to fall asleep and pushed yourself up off the towel and started heading down.

The beach had almost completely cleared out aside from the few people who, much like yourself and Belphie, wanted to enjoy it without the screaming children who’d run through the sand and kick it back onto the towels and bodies of unsuspecting people. It was a lot calmer during the evening, and Belphie had a lot of room to do what he wanted to do. Not a lot of people here actually surfed, it was mainly people boogie boarding close to the shore line and riding the smallest waves inland. You on the other hand, you didn’t use a board at all, instead wading out into the deepest part of the ocean until your feet could barely touch the floor, and then when a wave came, you’d jump and ride that shit up to the shore… or get knocked out completely and wash up on the shore looking like you’ve just seen death itself. Either way it’s a blast, and boards held no appeal to you… BUT…

Belphie on the board was a completely different story though. There was something about… him in general that made you so fascinated. Your eyes were basically glued to him, watching intently as he got onto his board and started paddling out deeper. You saw the wave that he was going for, it was forming further back, almost on the horizon line and you knew that it would be huge, which is exactly what he was going for. Go big or go home was always his thing, whether it was with food, pranks against his brothers, and with this as well…clearly. Were you worried, even though you knew that as a demon, he couldn’t actually get severely hurt? Absolutely. He’d probably laugh at you later for worrying, but you also cared about him a lot, so could he blame you? Absolutely not.

You watched as the wave drew closer, and for a second you were beyond worried that it would just crush him since he was sitting there just wading in the water, but as it started closing in, he began paddling again, his board rising with the crest of the wave until he reached the top and stood up. Now, it’s not that you had never seen people surfing before, it’s just that everyone else was boring and you didn’t like them and they weren’t interesting, and they were just… people. Belphie was different. This was your demon and here he was absolutely fucking ripping it, and not only was was he doing it flawlessly, but he looked so fucking good doing it. You wanted to cheer for him, but you also didn’t want to throw him off or anything, so you let out a quiet “yay” as you continued watching. The wave crashed down and broke around him, pushing him closer to you and for a second you thought that he’d ride it all the way up to you, but then he saw you. He pointed at you, the typical finger guns, and then promptly decided to purposely fall back off his board, which made you gasp because like… what the fuck man? Why?

BUT ALSO GOD DAMN. When he reemerged from under the water, he looked fucking…. Hot. And not like, “oh shit it’s summertime and the sun is making things hot” kind of hot… no, it was “holy hell I need to get this man back into the hotel room before I fuck him right here on the beach” type hot, which is still an understatement because there is no way to actually capture the essence of how absolutely hot he is through words. He’s just fucking… hot. He quickly pushed back his hair which was soaked and hanging in his face, and now it was slicked back, which wasn’t a look that you’d usually go for, but on him, again… HOT.

Were you aware that you had been holding your breath as he walked up to you? Nope. But as soon as he reached you, you exhaled sharply and gave him a sheepish smile. “That was… you did… it was great…” You couldn’t think straight and you couldn’t form coherent sentences, and the way you were acting had that smug little smile returning to his face. He knew damn well the way you were feeling, the way he made you feel. He didn’t have to wait for you to fall asleep and see your dreams to know what you were thinking either. But he wasn’t going to let you have it that easily either, he was going to tease you and drag it out as long as he possibly could.

“Come on…” He grabbed your hand, pulling you out into the water which was freezing. It was so cold, your entire body kind of froze up as soon as it reached your mid calves. “It’ll be more cold if you try to slowly get used to it. Just dunk yourself under real quick.” He stopped pulling you long enough to watch you, and what he was suggesting was quite possibly the number one thing you didn’t want to do right now. “I can do it for you if you won’t do it yourself.” He coaxed, stepping a little closer to you. He was serious too, he’d dunk you, whether you were holding your nose or not.

“I-I got it… I can do it…” You mumbled, slowly lowering yourself and then shooting back up when the water reached an area that had been dry before. You could almost see the timer in his head ticking down to the moment where he’d just take over and sweep you off your feet in the most unromantic way just to get you used to the water faster. “Don’t look at me while I… You’re making me nervous!” It was a good excuse. He scoffed and turned away from you, humming the jeopardy song which only made you feel more rushed. “Shush! I’m doing it… I just need a second.”

“You’ve had many seconds. It’s gonna be dark soon.” He joked, tapping his fingers along the water as he started humming louder. You groaned loudly before taking a deep breath, holding your nose, and dropping under the water. And, not surprisingly, it was fucking freezing, and when you quickly pushed yourself back up, the breeze that had really picked up didn’t help… like at all. “There you go. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No… it was worse.” He snorted softly, shaking his head. You couldn’t understand how he wasn’t fazed by it. Whenever he was in bed he’d complain about it being too cold when he was too lazy to reach down and grab his blankets… but swimming in an ice cube tray apparently doesn’t affect him. It made absolutely no sense, but… he looked happy, and he was having fun, and as numb as your body felt from the water, seeing him this way made you feel warm, at least in your heart, where it was important. “So why am I actually in the water right now?” You would have been perfectly fine staying just above where the waves broke, but he must have had something in mind.

“We’re tandem surfing.” He drummed his hands lightly on the board as he looked excitedly over at you as if you knew what that meant. He could see the confusion on your face though, and he sighed softly, pulling you closer to himself and the board. “You’re gonna be on the board with me.” That… sounded like a trainwreck waiting to happen. It would not go well, you knew that much. You wouldn’t be able to even sit on the board without wobbling, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to stand on it. “You’ll be fine.” He could see how put off by the idea of it you were. No amount of his arms wrapped around you would make flipping off a surfboard in the middle of a wave worth it.

“Mmmm… Nope… that’s not gonna… Nuh uh….” You were shaking your head quickly, trying to keep your footing even when you were flat on the ground as the waves crashed around you. They were strong, as was the current that was pulling you deeper into the ocean without you even realizing it. “I can just go stand back up there… I’ll watch you. That sounds like a good idea.” You nodded to yourself, turning to start walking away, but his arm was around your waist, holding you close against him and keeping you from walking away.

“I’m not gonna let you fall off. We’re not going far out… and we’re both sitting the whole time.” He murmured against your neck, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Plus… It’s cold out there… and I want to do this with you.” He made you so weak, it wasn’t fair at all. His fingers brushed lightly across your hip as his lips lingered against your skin. He was waiting for an answer, but he already knew what it would be, he just wanted to hear you say it, and he was having way too much fun teasing you like this. “Fine… just… hold it still.” His hand quickly moved away from your waist and he was wearing the biggest smile as he held the board in place as best he could. The waves crashing around it were the biggest issue, and every time you were about to jump up onto it, another wave would push it against you and make you stumble back. “Belphie… It’s not gonna work.” You whined, your head falling back as you sighed loudly.

“I’m holding it as still as I can, you just need to get on. I’ll tell you when, so the waves won’t knock you off.” He was being really persistent with it, which, in it’s own way, was kind of cute. Either he really wanted you on the board with him, or he really wanted to see you fall off. Sure, he liked you, but even you knew there was something… comical… about watching someone fall off a board… especially if they were just sitting. That’s even funnier. “If you do it… we can go right back to the hotel after we’re done… I know you want to do that.” He’s god damn right you want to do that. Not just for… reasons, but the thought of warm dry clothes and being under a blanket and cuddling with him sounded so amazing right now.

It was motivation enough for you to try again, timing your jump before the next wave came and then gripping onto the board like your life depended on it, because you really thought that it did, once you were on. “Okay…. Now what?” Your voice was kind of shaky, and really, you thought you should be rewarded with the hotel just for getting on the board alone. The waves were rocking you, and you felt like you were going to tip at any moment if Belphie let go, and you were really hoping that he wouldn’t, but when you turned to look at him, he was already behind you, getting ready to jump on the board. “Sh-Shouldn’t I be in the back…?” It was a pretty bad time to realize it considering you were already on it, but you still had time to jump off and switch positions.

“Oh… No. If you’re in the back, you’ll just hide your face in my back as soon as the wave starts pushing us, and that’s the best part.” He climbed onto the back of the board, scooting as close to you as possible. “Now hold on, okay? I’m gonna get us a little further out.” Your head whipped around to look at him, your eyes going wide. You were pretty sure he just said that you wouldn’t go out far, but now he’s saying he’s gotta get out further? He chuckled lightly, shaking his head as if he knew what you were thinking. “Not as far as I went. Just far enough to actually have a wave. The swells aren’t going to do much except rock us around a little bit.” He was already paddling out and your hold on the board turned into a death grip.

Once he felt like it was far enough out, he turned the board around, and that’s when you realized just how far you actually were. “I’m gonna die…” You whispered, which only made him laugh more, leaning in to kiss along your shoulder. “That’s not gonna make me feel better.” Your nails were practically digging into the board and your knuckles hurt from how tight you were holding it, but you didn’t really care, you just didn’t want to fall off.

“Oh, the waves coming! Hold on.” As if you weren’t already doing that, and you couldn’t possibly hold on any tighter than you already were. The wave began pushing you up, and you didn’t, not even for a second, enjoy the sensation of it. “Keep your eyes open.” His arms were wrapped tightly around you, and even with his urging, your eyes were shut as tight as possible, already prepared for when you’d fall off. You didn’t want salt water in your eyes, it burned, it hurt, and you were like 99.5% sure that you’d be falling off at some point.

His arms stayed wrapped around you, as tight as possible, ensuring that you wouldn’t fall off the board and you were beyond thankful for that. In a strange way, it didn’t last that long, but at the same time it felt like you were riding the wave forever. You had opened your eyes once, but the sight of the beach growing closer and closer to you was terrifying and you didn’t like it. “Is it done?” You quietly asked, not wanting to open your eyes yet, but you also felt like you’ve slowed down and you could feel the rocking of the waves beneath you again.

“Yes, it’s done. Your eyes were shut the entire time, weren’t they?” He joked, squeezing your hips which made you squirm and fall off the board anyway. His laughter was so loud you could hear it from under the water, and you quickly pushed your feet up against the edge of the board to try to tip him off as well, which didn’t actually work. You got back up, wiping the water from your eyes and glaring at him, still sitting on the board and smiling down at you. “You thought you’d be able to tip me over… that’s cute. You’re cute. Come, we’ll go back now. We can both take a nap before dinner.”

The sand had finally cooled off now that the sun had practically set behind the horizon line, lighting the waves up in pretty pink, orange, and blue hues. If you weren’t so cold, you’d have loved to stay on the beach and watch the sun continue to go down with Belphie right beside you. That could be done another night though, and you were aching to get back inside and take a shower to get the sand off of you, and then just relax in bed.

“I call dibs on the bathroom first.” You called out as you swiped the card to get into the room, rushing ahead of him to drop your beach bag on the floor and run straight into the bathroom. The sand was sticking to you, not just from being in the water, but also the damned sunscreen. It was itchy and it was everywhere, and you wanted to get it off of you as quickly as you could.

“You don’t have to call dibs, I could just get in there with you.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it made you pause for a second. He wasn’t wrong, and it’s not that you’d mind him getting in with you, so you weren’t going to say no. He walked in just as you were getting into the shower, and no matter how many times he had seen you that way, you still got really shy, which he would constantly say is adorable, but it just made you flustered and even more shy than you already were. “Did you have fun?” His voice was soft now, and you could hear that he was becoming tired. You were sure that he’d end up falling asleep on the beach after being in the ocean, it was enough to even knock you out most of the time, but he held onto enough energy to get up into the room.

“Mmhm… I liked watching you more though…” You heard him hum quietly behind you, his hands roaming over your body as he helped get some of the off. You could have done it yourself, but he did it so much better. “Did you have fun?” It sounded like he had fun, and it definitely looked like he had fun. He was laughing and smiling the whole time which was enough for you. His happiness made you happy, as cringy and dorky as that may sound… which is why you never told him that. He’d call you a dork and laugh it off which would just make you flustered and feel silly.

“Mmhm… I have one more thing to do though.” You were confused because you were pretty sure he was talking about dinner and that was supposed to come after the nap. He finished rinsing the sand and soap off you and himself before turning off the shower and stepping out. He didn’t bother with towels, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom and pushing you down on the bed, situating himself between your legs and smiling up at you. “I teased you enough on the beach… I think I should finish what I started.”

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cleololax · 4 years ago

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Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one 👌🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

#bts angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fake texts #namjoon #Jungkook #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #taehyung #bantansonyeondan

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