#character development not hiding in the tags this time

[waywardsalt]

thinking abt linebeck’s coat. something very alluring about it for some reason. so im just gonna ramble about it here instead of in the tags for once

you can probably start a fight between the people who think it’s a coat and people who think it’s a jacket but i think it’s a coat moving on

the character designs are interesting to look at due to the proportions and art style so it is hard to imagine how long his coat would be but i think it would go down to a bit above ankles because i think that’s good. it’s a bit more dramatic a bit more impressive(?) that way and would probably lead to problems tbh

based on some of the official art i imagine that the stripe at the bottom might’ve been a late addition since it’s missing in the bit of official art most used to represent linebeck. tbh linebeck is inconsistent in very tiny ways in the official art but that’s mostly if you’re gonna be nit-picky or bored enough to notice

his coat is so good it’s simple but very recognizable and stands out among the other character designs in ph and its just. yknow good character design

its also surprisingly good for headcanons and stuff and because i mostly take a lot of canon as suggestion i have a good handful of headcanons tagged specifically onto his coat (one of which is the length of it ig)

i like to imagine that he made it himself. i’ve seen stuff where people write linebeck as being able to fix link’s tunic when it gets torn and i feel like the logical extreme of that is that he made his own coat. i think that adds a layer of. importance to it? it’s unique it’s solely linebeck’s it’s tied to him because he made it with his own hands and maybe it can represent something about him that way?

i like to imagine that in addition to the normal pockets one the outside he’s got a whole lot of little pockets on the inside of the coat, like so many pockets that he hides little trinkets or tools or things he steals in either to keep or to take back to his ship for whatever reason. some of the pockets have little flaps of whatever they’re called that can be secured in place with a small button to keep stuff in

he’s got like pencils and a compass and little notes and tiny figurines and cool rocks and feathers and all kinds of little things he thought was worth keeping around and due to that his coat is uncomfortable sometimes but if he knows for certain he’s going to be busy doing stuff he’ll empty out all of the pockets and only leave the important stuff so that it’s lighter and less uncomfortable. link finds his coat lying around at some point and is caught so badly off-guard by how surprisingly heavy it is with all of the bullshit he keeps in all of his pockets

i also imagine he values it a lot, maybe to the point of being really possessive and protective of it, not letting link touch it and if it gets torn or stained he shuts down and has to fix it before he can move on to anything else, and if he can’t fix it at the time it leave him kind of overwhelmed or upset until he can fix it. he has a lot stocked-up materials specifically for his coat to avoid a situation where he has to go for while with his coat damaged

backing away from headcanon territory, his coat is just a cool bit of character design and has just been lodged in my mind for a while. its cool and never brought up within the game (obviously) and i guess a last little closing thought is that in the cutscene where oshus teleports link above linebeck it kinda looks like his coat moves when he tries to catch link and i think that’s cool

[phoenixcatch7]

I know 'person with secret to hide spots other person with secret to hide but doesn't say anything' is like. Thee trope in superhero crossovers, but come on! Some of these guys have been doing this for decades! There's tons of heroes that have gone to pretty extreme lengths to be Completely Imperceptible in civilian life.

Don't you think it's scarier, after all is said and done, to sit there and think I didn't notice a thing? I wouldn't have ever realised? I would never have known? To know that someone you were familiar with - close with, even! - had this whole other personality and skillset and powers and experiences and life just behind the curtain, and they hid it so completely you didn't even see it was there.

'I always knew there was something off' what if you didn't. How world shaking would it be to be so utterly blindsided? To know that this person had somehow learned to so deceptive?

[jamiethebeeart]

:D (I ramble in my tags about this)

[theobromine42]

This is about Arthur Lester and John Doe Malevolent in my mind

don't really care if the otp is romantic or platonic or erotic or whatnot. i care simply about the essentials (they are toxically codependent)

[angelltheninth]

Friends with Benefits with Love and Deepspace Men

Pairing: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, friends with benefits, protectiveness, love confession, fingering, realization of feelings, denaial of feelings, mating press, desk sex, jealusy, flirting, referanced cunnilingus

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I would legit want to be their friends. The benefit is heaing me yap about how pretty they all are and whatever my newest hyperfixation is.

FwB!Zayne always tries to keep things strictly professional beween the two of you. There's him when he is your friend and collegue and him when he's making love to you on the surface of his desk. It's easy for him to cross between the lines, one moment he's giving you advice or talking about problem he has and the next he has his hand down your underwear and the other over your mouth, keeping you quiet. He's actually very good at going between the two modes and will never cross a line without your permission. Any feelings he might develop he will only show when he's being your lover, not when he's your friend.

FwB!Rafayel hides behind the flirting he does to make you belive he;s not as serious as he is. There will always be a time for him to be your friend and listen to any problems you make have, go on movie dates with you, take you shopping and order your favorite food when you're sad. And then there is the time when he offers to take your mind off what ever is bothering you by holding you close while you ride his cock and breathe heavily against his neck. Ocassionaly you have said you loved each other, and both of you know it's true, but you want to take a bit more before your relationshp takes that next step.

FwB!Xavier gets too into his own head about the whole deal becuase how is supposed to act that he wasn't balls deep in you the night before when you walk funny in front of him. Downright impossible for him to ignore the signs you give him. And he really does try his best but he doesn't want to make it seem like he only wants you for sex so he ends up texting you a lot while you're apart. Which only confuses things more. Truly he wishes there was an easy way for him to deal with this. Perhaps the best thing is for him to confess that he wants to be your boyfriend, not just the guy who makes you come and then never talks about it again until the next time.

FwB!Sylus teases you so much that you have no idea when he wants to be your friend and when he wants to fuck. There have been times where he deliberately made you think one thing only to do the other. Mindgames like these are fun for him, and watching you get all out of sorts because of it is even better. For as many times as he's fucked you into the bed he was also the one to comfort you when you were full of doubts and wanted nothing in return. Part of him hates that you still see him as a friend after all of that but he also won't force you to see him as anything else. Besies it's only a matter of time before you do.

FwB!Caleb is too jealous to stay just friends after the very first night you spend togeteher. Stares at othe guys that flirt with you so much a few of them actually took off running in the opposite direction. He didn's spend the whole night eating you out until you could no longer scream his name just for some other guy to swoop in and take you home. Try as he might to hide his jealus side it's very much impossibe, his smile gets sour and tight every time you tell him a guy flirted with you. A man like him can only tolorate so much before he confesses to you while fucking you. Not even romantically, he growls it out while having you folded in half and just as he fills you up with cum.

[zolass]

Oh!!! Uhhh how about OC x bttm! Reader where reader is a much soft spoken/passive guy and OC is the one who teases him a lot? Bonus points if Reader takes a second to process suggestive jokes & is significantly taller than OC (because I've never read a taller bttm b4 LMAO)

MY MUSE ···─Tease! Rafayel x Taller! bttm Male Reader

Summary: Where you find yourself in the grasps of an famous artist, who simply asked you to be his muse and even paying you for it. But why does it feel like that there's more behind all the teasing from Rafayel. wc: 1.2k

tags: fluff, teasing, taller shy reader (reader is as tall as sylus), nudity, mentions of sex and multiple rounds, (pls tell me if I forgot smt)

Note: I'm sorry if you wanted smut with this one, or a different character. Hope it's still enjoyable. But ngl I like the dynamic T_T

You were sitting at the coast, your shoes dug in the sand as you squatted down. The waves barely missed the tip of your shoes, while you simply stared at the mesmerizing display of the ocean. Your fingers were playing with the sand absentmindedly.

So you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps in the sand, until a hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up surprised, you came face to face with the handsome male that you had been working with for a few months, Rafayel. 

“Hey, beautiful.” Rafayel said, it was a common thing he called you by. At first it was a rather big surprise for you, but it made sense as he hired you as his muse. “Hey Raf,” you greeted him back with a small smile on your lips before you stood up.

Now it was Rafayel’s time to look slightly up at you. “I made breakfast and coffee– so the sooner we are there, the more time we have!” Rafayel said, while he grabbed your hand and pulled you along the shore towards the place you call your home since the last few months.

Many would question why you lived with the painter, all the while you’re ‘just a muse’ as some would like to call it. You didn’t have to pay for basically anything, freeloading off of the other. Of course at the beginning you wanted to know why he did it, just as confused as others would be, even going as far as not accepting the payment he gave you. But his words at the beginning simply were “creativity doesn’t wait around, so I have to grasp it while it’s simply there.”

Quickly you found yourself in the open kitchen, with a steaming coffee mug in front of you, and the simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. As you were enjoying your breakfast in silence, Rafayel’s eyes were trained on your figure. Tall, even taller than him, soft locks framing your face. Your eyes that always held warmth in them, even when others would say he was annoying and too much when he wanted to paint another piece, you simply sat there in your own bubble, going along with his orders without speaking up about it. 

After the first three days, Rafayel started to relax more, speaking more with you, having conversations while on and off ‘work’, soon he also started to make suggestive jokes, he loved to see the halt in movement of whatever you’re doing, taking a few seconds to take in his words before a beautiful reddish color would adorn your cheeks, that you would try to hide.

Maybe that was it, what made him slowly develop this warmth in his chest whenever he thought of you, was seeing you or was simply close to you. 

The clearing of your throat brought Rafayel out of his thoughts, “You alright Raf? You didn’t touch your breakfast yet,” you asked with concern, lacing your voice. Rafayel couldn’t help the flutter in his stomach because of your concern for him, he quickly cleared his throat before he looked at you with a playful smile on his lips. “Just thinking about something– you know.. I don’t mind looking up at you, but I bet you would look better under me.” 

It took a few seconds for the words to register in your brain, and as they did he watched as your eyes widened and face heated up, adorning your cheeks in a slightly reddish shade. You didn’t know what to say, your mouth opening and closing. A chuckle left Rafayel as he watched your reaction, “Okay if you’re done let’s start,” Rafayel started, as he cleaned up the table. 

As he walked to the empty canvas, he couldn’t help but halt in his movement, a sudden idea in his head. “[name] you said– you would do anything as my muse right?” The sudden question surprised you. But you took a few seconds to think of how you should answer, so after a bit you nodded, before adding a yes. 

Rafayel couldn’t help the giddy feeling in his stomach, it might be rather risky but he decided to do it anyway, who knew if he had the chance ever again. “Then– strip,” he said loud enough for both of you to hear. 

You stared at him wide-eyed, “Pardon?” 

“Only your shirt,” Rafayel quickly added, backing out half way. Yet he wanted to see your slightly toned chest, without a shirt blocking most of the sight. You were still kinda shocked, before you gave a short okay. 

Soon you were seated on a small chair with a translucent cloth layered across your naked torso, your eyes sometimes looking at the concentrated face of Rafayel, his words still lingering in your head, before the silence was interrupted by a young woman with dark brown hair walking in. 

Quickly you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide your exposed body, which was clearly a failure. Both of you stared at each other with wide eyes, a rose color dusting the woman's cheeks. 

The clearing of a throat was heard, both your heads focused on Rafayel, yet his expression changed. “Didn’t think you would come by so early..” he said, with a slightly annoyed undertone which surprised you and apparently the woman too, “should I come back some other time-” Rafayel quickly spoke a sharp yes, before his eyes landed back on you.

Shortly after you both were back alone, a blush still coating your cheeks, your one arm trying to hide your chest, while you held yourself on the chair with the other. Suddenly Rafayel stood up and walked towards you, before standing still in front of you.

As he leaned down, you didn’t know what to expect but certainly not, that he would push a strand out of your face, with a charming smile on his lips, “You know darling, I love that you’re so tall– more room for me to leave marks,” he said. It didn’t take long for you to blush in embarrassment, biting your lip.

“Then why don’t you show me?” you asked in a whisper, first you thought he didn’t hear what you said, but instead you heard a chuckle and a hand reached out towards you. Looking at the hand and then at Rafayel, you could see the way he looked at you. Still rather playful but there seemed to be more of a seriousness hiding behind the exterior, “Sure, anything for my mesmerizing darling,” he spoke.

And so you found yourself that day in multiple rounds of passionate sex, different positions, all the while Rafayel fucked you into the mattress and filling your hole with one load after another and the sweet words were uttered from Rafayel’s lips. Lovebites and hickeys littering your skin, while you were held tightly in the other’s arm at the end of the day.

You both watching as the sun slowly dropped below the waves, a kiss was placed on your shoulder, “Like I thought, you look so fucking beautiful beneath me,” Rafayel teased. A chuckle leaving him as you hid your face, before he turned serious, “I want to take you out on a date, [name].” 

It surprised you, but there you were already having slept with the man, so a date couldn’t be that awful right? 

Rafayel waited for your answer, and as you said yes, he couldn’t help but feel oh so giddy. He hugged you close to his chest, “Then we go when you can walk without pain, hm?” and all you did was huff, as your ears also turned red, “sure,” were the only things you uttered before both of you watched the sunset, before you slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[hisui-dreamer]

he lives in you

Characters: Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Lilia

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 2.4k+

Notes: uh i was practicing Japanese and researching Japanese names before writing this, so all my name ideas ended up in japanese? if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

right in time for mother's day, so here's to a celebration of the motherly figures in our lives, blood related or not, for being there for us<3

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Hina (日来) with 日 meaning "sun, day" and 来 meaning "coming, future"

Leona reminded you of a shining sun that radiated warmth and light in your life, of how the it would surely shine again no matter how dark the night seemed, and so you named your daughter after that image

your daughter has the clearest emerald eyes and flowing dark brown locks that you often braided in a similar style to her father's

she's very energetic, always curious and asking questions, eager to learn more about the world around her

she's an obedient child, although she's eager to seek your affection and may whine a bit when things don't go her way

if there was one thing that was similar to the Leona you knew, it's that she's extremely clingy and constantly seeks physical affection, hugging your legs and asking for you to carry them any chance she has

and also the fact that she enjoyed her naps a bit too much

her lion ears are a bit of an issue in our world, but you often hide them with hoods, clever hair styling, or simply saying it's a costume

when you told her about the brilliant man her father is, she grew really excited about the possibility of meeting him, and started playing around with magic more to be like the intelligent mage he is

and then it happened, just an ordinary afternoon practicing magic had the two of you transported back to twisted wonderland, face to face to Leona

somehow, he had grown even more handsome in the years you hadn't seen him, but instead of his lazy smile, he looked confident and powerful, like the leader he was always meant to be

A sudden gust of magic swept through the air behind him as he raised his staff in response, only to immediately drop it in shock as your figure came into sight, and beside you, a small child that he had never seen before.

"Herbivore..." he whispered.

Without a second thought, Leona rushed towards you, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he reached out to embrace you tightly.

"This better not be a dream," he murmured into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "It's really you."

after a tearful reunion and introduction, Leona quickly excuses himself from his duties with a quick meeting with Falena, and helps you and Hina settle into the palace

since you left, Leona's been working hard to do what he can do as per your promise with him

he's now in charge of foreign affairs and on better terms with his brother after much needed communication

he showers you in affection, he's even clingier than before that it almost starts a rivalry with your daughter

he puts in a lot of effort to spend time with Hina, learning her likes and dislikes and bonding over magic

uncle jack and ruggie are always fun to be around and play with her

though it wasn't his fault, leona feels guilty you had to bare the responsibility on your own for so long, and he puts in a lot of effort to make amends for any mistakes work to build a strong relationship with you two

he has a family now, and you're damn sure he'll protect it with his life

Leona looked down at Hina, feeling a sense of pride and wonder at the little girl standing before him. "Hey there," he said, his voice gentle. "Nice to meet ya, kiddo."

Hina stared at him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you my dad?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Leona's heart ached at the question, knowing that he had missed so much of her life. "Yeah, I'm your dad," he said, reaching out to take her hand.

Hina looked at him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. "Can you show me magic?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Leona felt a sense of joy at her words, feeling a connection with her that he had never felt before. "Of course I can," he said, standing up and taking her hand. "What do you wanna see?"

Sakura (桜) meaning "cherry blossoms"

your daughter has sleek teal hair that reminds you of the sea, a single strand of dark hair, and mismatched eyes in the same manner as Floyd

Floyd had lovingly given you the nickname "Shrimpy", and it only felt right for your daughter to be named Sakura, after the tiny sakura-shrimp

she's incredibly mischievous and there's not a moment of silence with her, she's spontaneous and playful and you've got your hands full

though she is very considerate of you and will listen to your words, she's uncontrollable when she's bored and in need of a spark of interest

she's also a squeezer, much like her father, and hugs you every time she sees you or anyone she likes, and you're thankful her strength hasn't developed too much yet

she enjoys biting you, albeit gently, and you find your arms littered with bite marks, but it's her unique way of showing affection

her eel form won't show unless she's been in the water for too long (thankfully), and she enjoys squeezing you in her eel form even more

ever so curious, she's asked about her father many times, and you've told her how carefree and easygoing her father is, and that he'd love her the moment she saw her

which leads you to her magic actually teleporting you to him, her spontaneous idea having manifested itself, and you found in a dimly lit room similar to the Mostro Lounge

Floyd looked matured, his hair sleeked back and his features sharpened, though his wry smile that you loved had stayed the same

Floyd's eyes widened with shock and disbelief, and his steps quickened as he rushes towards you, his long arms outstretched in a gesture of longing. As he got closer, he noticed the beautiful and curious-looking child standing close to you.

"Shrimpy?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No way... It's really you!"

Floyd pulled you close, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "I missed ya so much, I wish I hadn't let ya go," he said, his voice choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill. "You're not allowed to leave again, okay?"

Floyd is so ecstatic he can't stand still, once he's calmed down a bit, be immediately carries Sakura and drags you to Jade and Azul

Azul and Jade are pleasantly surprised at your return, and it's a warm welcome back

the two of them are glad Floyd won't be moping any time soon

the trio have now expanded into a franchise and divulged into many businesses, though Floyd largely acts as Azul's right-hand man

Now that you're back, he refuses to be apart from you, always holding onto you tightly and afraid you might disappear just like how suddenly you appeared

he does get mood swings where he's upset or angry, not at you though, just at how unfair things were and how he couldn't be there for you

he's a good eel who does everything to make sure you and Sakura are happy and comfortable, often cooking meals for you two

he's so curious about Sakura and enjoys playing with her and lifting her high up in the air

don't worry, he's extremely careful, this precious gem is why you got back to him!

Jade is the best uncle and Sakura wants to marry him??? (honestly same)

poor Azul is getting pranked by the daughter- father duo, though Sakura does comfort him afterwards with squeezes and kissss

Floyd looked down at Sakura, and he saw her staring back at him with wide, curious eyes in the opposite colours of his eyes. Though she resembled him physically, there was an air about her that was so distinctly his Shrimpy.

"Heya," Floyd said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm your dad."

Sakura giggled and reached out to him, her tiny hands grasping at his hands. Floyd froze, not sure what to do, letting her yand his hand forward. But then, she opened her mouth and bit down on finger.

"Hey!" Floyd cried, pulling back in surprise.

Sakura just laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Floyd couldn't help but laugh too, despite the pain in his finger.

"Yer a feisty one, aren't ya, Sakura-shrimpy?" he teased, grinning down at her as he ruffled her hair. "You know," he whispered, "you can't just go around biting people like that. But I like your style."

Isami (功己) 功 meaning "achievement, credit, honour, merits" and 己 meaning "self, serpent, snake."

your son has smooth ebony locks and sharp grey eyes that make him look slightly intimidating

Jamil had shown you how much he valued his achievements over his social status, so you chose a name the could embody him

he's a quiet child who's always attentive and careful

he's rather shy in front of other people, but when it's you he'll soak up all of your affection and stare at you with longing eyes seeking praise

he's a cute helper at home too! he always volunteers to help you with chores and cook in the kitchen, though you're careful he's not close to anything sharp or dangerous

he does have an inherent fear of bugs, something he's inherited from Jamil, but thankfully you've taught him to be less destructive than his father

do expect screams and for him to be crying as a little fly chases him around though

he's incredibly smart and talented at magic, easily grasping the concepts of magic you can only teach him theoretically

when you told him about his father, you've told him about the diligent man that his father is, and how would let his guard down around those he treasured

he had listened quietly without much of a change in his expression, but you could tell there was a bubbling excitement building up in his eyes

and no long after that, he managed to teleport the two of you to a warm, airy room of marble walls

Jamil's features had sharpened, he seemed more openly confident and comfortable with himself

Jamil's heart skipped a beat as he saw you. It had been five years since he bid your farewell at the mirror chamber and lost you forever. And yet here you were standing here in front of him with a child in tow, a child who resembled him so much.

"It can't be..." he murmurs.

Without hesitation, Jamil dropped all the papers and rushed towards you, his heart pounding furiously. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. He could see the love and longing still shining in your eyes, and he knew deep down that he had never stopped loving you.

Jamil couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down his face. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice raspy. "Letting you go is the worst decision I've ever made." He reached out and pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms shaking with emotions.

he's a bit overwhelmed but still so thankful you're back in his life

Kalim barges in at this time and exclaims in surprise at your return and ??? OMG JAMIL YOU HAVE A SON?!!

Jamil has half a mind to dissuade him from holding a banquet immediately to welcome you back, and instead take things slow to not overwhelm you or Isami

asks Kalim for some privacy and the second he's away, he melts into your embrace

he hasn't felt so at ease in so long

if he wakes up in the morning and you're not right there beside him, he's panicking and searching all over the place for some confirmation you're still here

he's very curious about Isami and asks him all sorts of questions to piece together his development and personality

they definitely have a rivalry over who's braver over bugs but it just ends up with the two hugging you for safety

he's a bit awkward with how careful he is with his emotions, so it takes Isami some time to fully trust him

but trust me, Jamil will go above and beyond for his family and there's no way Isami will have to endure what Jamil did in his childhood

Jamil's eyes widened in surprise and wonder. He couldn't believe that they had created a life together. He knelt down to the Isami' eye level and looked into his eyes. "Hello there," he said, his voice gentle and warm. "What's your name?"

Isami starred back at him, his eyes wide with distrust and caution before he buried his face in your legs. Jamil chuckled softly. "It's okay," he comforted. "You don't have to be shy around me. I'm your dad."

Isami looked up at him again, this time with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "Daddy?" they said, testing the word out.

Jamil smiled warmly as nodded, his heart swelling with love and joy. "Yes, daddy," he parroted. "And I promise I'm never going to leave you or your mommy again."

Yuri (百合) meaning "lily"

Lilia's name always reminded you for lily flowers, and what better name for your daughter to embody him?

your daughter has straight raven hair with some of the hair flipping upwards resembling two horns, angular fae ears, and bright crimson eyes

she's always up for pranks and mischief, it's rare to see her without a smile

she loves exploring places, if you keep your eyes off her for one second, she's letting her curiosity take her to whatever she wants

if you're serious and stern though, she will listen to you, she wouldn't dare make her mother upset!

she's friendly with everyone and isn't shy to say hi to neighbors or absolute strangers

she's not overly affectionate, but she definitely enjoys hugs and kisses from you

she has an odd habit of taking stray animals back home in an attempt to adopt them, so you have little adventures with her trying to find an owner

do not let her in the kitchen

she has surely inherited her father's cooking abilities, somehow, she can render even a piece of toast beyond human consumption

magic comes as second nature to her, and she's always standing on ceilings

gosh her eyes absolutely sparkled when you told her about the teasing and mischievous fae that is her father

and soon, the portal opened and you found yourself in a gothic castle lit up by green candles

He's a lot taller, his hair longer and reaching his waist, and more enchanting than ever

Lilia stood in shock as your family figure come into sight. In all his years of living, he had never been so utterly stunned. After all these years, you had finally returned to him.

"Beastie..." Lilia gasped, his voice catching in his throat.

With a surge of energy, Lilia broke free from the trance-like state and hurried towards you, his hair streaming behind him like a dark flag as he enveloped you tightly in his embrace. "After all these years, you've truly come back to me?"

Carefully, Lilia held you at arm's length, studying your matured features, etching them into his memory like a cherished work of art. His eyes traced the lines and contours of your face, memorizing every detail that time had etched upon you.

"My, how you've grown," Lilia murmured, a mix of pride and wistfulness coloring his words. "The years have shaped you into a remarkable individual."

it's family reunion time!!!

he immediately drags you to the throne room where malleus, silver and sebek are

malleus is now king with two incredibly reliable bodyguards, and Lilia's his most trusted advisor

malleus is so glad his dear human friend is back, silver is satisfied that his father will have someone to be with, and sebek is screaming about Yuri, though she enjoys his loudness

for a while, Lilia is extremely affectionate, trying to make up for all the years that had gone by

when you're sleeping together at night, he hugs you tightly and it's difficult to leave his embrace

he definitely tries to cook for you two, going on and on about how the two of you need to stay healthy and need lots of nutrients

you always volunteer your portion for Yuri, and she'll gladly eat whatever her father has cooked for her

silver is an older brother often on babysitting duty, and Yuri loves watching him spar with sebek and also wants to learn

Sebek is quite fond of Yuri, and he sees his half-fae self in her

Lilia is always trying to fun with Yuri, bouncing her high up in the air and teaching her to hang upside down and swing around

plans so many family vacations, he can't wait to be exploring places with his two darlings

"Is she... ours?" Lilia asked. At your nod, he reached out to caress Yuri's cheek, his touch gentle as if he were touching fragile porcelain.

"Well, I'll be damned," Lilia chuckled, his voice cracking with emotion. "I never thought I'd be a father again. But I'm glad to meet you, little one. What's your name?"

Yuri giggled and and beamed at his touch. "My name's Yuri," she said, her voice sweet as honey.

"Yuri," Lilia repeated, his heart swelling with emotion. "What a beautiful name for my beautiful girl," he reached up to fondle her hair. "You know, Yuri," Lilia said, his voice growing serious. "I may not have been there for you when you were born, but I promise I'll always be here for you from now on. No matter what happens, I'm your father, and I'll always love you darling."

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 18/30

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻From the author: ✊🏻✊🏻 Knock, knock… it's me again with my new chapter. I want to assure you right away that I'm not obsessed with sex in the car (after all, this is the third scene where they have sex in the car), it's just that this scene appeared in my head so suddenly, and they were in the car at that time... 🤭😁 Anyway, let me know if you liked this? And also, do you like the plot development?

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and love you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad , @kelsyx33 (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 18. Dangerous.

Your eyes are closed, and there are thousands of thoughts in your head. All of them create chaos in your head and you can't understand what is important to think about now and what is not worth attention. This causes anxiety. You should be happy because you finally have a relationship. You have a loved one who is supposed to make you happy. Of course, you are sure that he will make you, but what is happening in your life right now makes you feel like you are in limbo.

Jungkook is your best friend who is now your boyfriend. He belongs to the mafia and does a pretty dangerous job. You imagine, just for a second, what he does and what he looks like, and you feel horror crawling through your body. You feel discomfort mixed with anxiety and open your eyes.

The Mercedes drives smoothly, but with its characteristic engine growl. The interior is warm and smells like unobtrusive citrus. Jungkook is watching the road, holding the steering wheel with one hand.

You look sideways at his profile without turning your head. His perfect face seems to be getting beautifully to you every day. You literally can't stop admiring him.

Jungkook looked calm, almost detached, focused on the road. His sharp features seemed to be carved by God himself: a strong jawline, a straight nose, perfect symmetry of his eyebrows, which moved slightly as he thought about something. His lips, slightly pursed but soft, beckoned to be touched and tasted.

His hand gripped the steering wheel. The tattoos were eye-catching. You looked at his long fingers and imagined them holding a gun. His index finger pulled the trigger and a shot rang out. Someone had died by his hand.

You shook your head slightly to clear away the horrific image you were sure had never happened. Jungkook would never kill a human. But you are saddened by the thought that you doubt. You can't say that you believe that Jungkook is not a murderer. But how can this gentle, caring person take someone's life? You are confused and completely disoriented. You just don't know what to believe.

Why are you thinking about all this while driving in the car? You know about the situation with the devices that Doohoon stole. You have a vague idea of what awaits Jungkook when you arrive in Seoul and he meets Namjoon. You're scared and nervous about revealing this to Jungkook so that he doesn't worry about you. Will Namjoon be really angry? Will he punish him in some mafia-style way or just tell you that another $50 million is added to the blog and let Jungkook go? What a lot of money!

Although everything is perfect between you and Jungkook right now, you can't keep thinking about who he really is. Knowing criminal world, the life will seem to you like a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later it will explode. However, your feelings for Jungkook are growing every day, and you think about how you can save him. What can you do to make him leave the mafia and finally live like a normal person?

You pick up your new phone and look at the time. It's eleven in the morning. It's only a thirty-minute drive to Seoul.

Jungkook notices that you are awake and looks over at you. A smile touches his lips and he reaches out to you. He places his hand on your thigh and squeezes it lightly.

"Did you doze off?" - He asks. His voice is hoarse and gentle at the same time. Your eyes instantly find his and you smile back. In fact, you were awake. You were trying to sort out the chaos in your head. But all you got were not clear thoughts but a headache.

"A little." - You lie. "I lost my sleep rhythm. It was hard for me to wake up at 7 a.m. to get ready for the trip." - You admit.

"How much sleep did you get?" - Jungkook asks looking ahead.

"Three hours." - You say. Jungkook's eyebrows fly up.

"Baby, you need to get more sleep. I'll take you home and you can go straight to bed." - Jungkook is worried. You struggle to smile.

"Okay." - You agree. After a moment, you speak again. "Your mom must have been sad that you had to leave in the morning, right? It would have been better if you hadn't stopped by your parents' house at all." - You say in a sad, slightly guilty voice. Jungkook could have stayed with his parents longer, but he spent a lot of time with you yesterday. And this morning he left because he had to meet Namjoon.

Jungkook heard what you said and laughed softly. He stroked your thigh as if to calm you down.

"That's what my mom said when I told my parents I was just passing through. I told my mother I was on business near Suwon so I came to see them because I was miss, even though I had important business in Seoul since morning. My mother was touched that I wasted time to coming to they and instantly melted." - Jungkook told you. You raised your eyebrows, unhappy that Jungkook was manipulating his mother's feelings with a lie.

"You lie to your mother and think it's okay?" - You asked, irritated. Jungkook gave you a quick glance and the smile disappeared from his lips.

"I wasn't lying. It was almost like that." - Jungkook defended himself. "If I had told her that I had come for a couple of days but had to leave in the morning, she would have been upset. Besides, I promised her I would come back after the new year."

"You've been lying a lot lately." - You complained, even though you knew Jungkook was right. The fact that he lied made sense. But he was really lying a lot, and you were nervous about it. He's the one who can lie to you easily!

"Only the last four years." - Jungkook says ironically, meaning that it started when he met Namjoon. You snort in displeasure.

"More. About six years." - You say. Jungkook raises his eyebrows, wondering why it took so long. He looks at you questioningly, and you stretch your lips into a luscious smile. "You wanted me all along and lied about me not being your type." - You explain. Jungkook smiles again, the smile of a man who has been exposed.

"Is it my fault that you didn't reciprocate for so long?" - Jungkook asks you. You're shocked. Meaning you didn't respond? Did he show any interest in you? He just liked to tease you and make you blush. He's been with a lot of girls, even though he says he's liked you since high school.

"Reciprocated on what? You never even hit on me like a normal guy." - Jungkook bursts out laughing.

"I'm sorry. I did it the best I could." - He says through his laughter.

"No. You didn’t do all the best that you could. You were just a playboy. Who thought, that his best friend wasn't going anywhere anyway." - You said it a little harshly. Jungkook didn't stop smiling, but he raised his eyebrows. It sounded like an accusation.

"Do you know me that well, baby?" - Jungkook jokes, trying to calm you down. Because he can already see you're getting annoyed.

"Yes. I know you very well. I just don't know why it took you so long to ask me out. Did you want to be free longer?" - You ask sharply, trying to be calm.

"I was in a relationship before you, so the 'free' theory isn't true, baby. I dated Minsoo at school for a year, and I dated Jayon for about a year too. And I dated Ha Young for a long time. But when I started working for Namjoon, it became difficult to have a girlfriend. I wasn't a playboy." - Jungkook explains indignantly. The mention of Jungkook's exes makes you even more irritated. You give him an angry look.

"You were!" - You growl. "Do you want me to recall all your passions that wrote to me to stay away from you? For some reason, your last one isn't there, although I'm sure she wanted to threaten me too. That's probably why you stopped talking to me during your first year at university." - Jungkook exhaled nervously. You were angry about this. You sat up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Jungkook rubbed his palms on the steering wheel.

"Okay, if you think I'm a playboy, so be it. But what are we arguing about? You accuse me of not courted you well, but you've never even flirted with me as a joke. All I ever heard you say was, ‘I'm going to kill you, Jeon.’" - Jungkook imitated you. You choked on your anger and indignation.

"Did I have to do that? I thought you were my friend, and I didn't think it was necessary. But you were flirting with everyone, you didn't miss a skirt. And it spread to me too because I have boobs. That's why I didn't react." - You snapped back.

"You liked me, you could have reciprocated." - Jungkook says lightly.

"No, I didn't. I didn't like you!" - You shouted. Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Jungkook gave you a look full incredulous. "I only started to like you when we started living together." - You lied.

"Are you answering for your words?" - Jungkook asks you in a serious tone. You can hear your heart beating desperately against your ribcage, and you delay your answer for a long few seconds.

"Yes. I'm telling you the truth." - You say with determination, but you're afraid you don't sound confident. "If I would like you, how I was okay with you fucking every girl in town?" - The muscles in his jaw are pulsing. He's irritated. He flicks his tongue against his cheek, and you never miss this gesture.

"You've dreamed of being in those girls' shoes, and don't tell me you haven't, baby." - Jungkook says slyly. Although you expected a more angry reaction, judging by the look on his face.

"Never. You're the one who must have wanted me to be in their shoes, because you've been wanting to fuck me for so long." - You reply defiantly. Jungkook snorts. You approach him, leaning over the armrest. You can clearly see the shine of his perfect skin. "You should have just confess to me instead of sticking your dick in everyone's." - You smile. Jungkook pulls off the road and parks on the side of the road. You fall back on the seat. You stare dumbfounded at the road, trying to understand why Jungkook stopped. Before you can say anything, you feel Jungkook's hand squeezing your cheeks. His face is just a few centimeters away and his eyes radiate something devilish.

"Your big mouth is too big sometimes. I can put my cock in your mouth. That you'd stop saying stupid things." - Jungkook says thoughtfully. He looks at you with authority. You feel a piercing sensation between your thighs, and you think you just wet your panties.

"Try your luck, Jeon." - You say through clenched cheeks. You feel Jungkook's fingernails digging into your skin. Jungkook laughs, but it's a laugh that sounds like something between mocking and maniacal.

"Why do you like provoking me so much? Do you get off on me being rude to you?" - Jungkook asks, and you feel him already undoing the button on your jeans. You get wet in anticipation of Jungkook's fingers on your pussy. He's right that you like his roughness and power. But you can't admit it. Of course you love it when he's gentle and caring, but those eyes, those eyes in front of you, they set your whole being on fire.

"Don't even touch me!" - You scream when you feel his hand slowly slide down your pants. Jungkook's eyes darken even more when you don't let him. His cock instantly hardens. Jungkook captures your lips and his fingers are already touching your folds. You grab his hand, but your strength is not enough, because you can't resist your desire to have him touch you.

Jungkook terrorizes your lips, his tongue literally fills your entire mouth. You return the kiss with the same passion. He caresses your clit and you can't help but moan into Jungkook's mouth.

"Take off your pants quickly and get on my lap." - Jungkook orders you. You are flushed from his kiss and touch. Jungkook pushes his seat back as far as it will go. He notices that you are sitting still. You don't listen to him right away, and he gets mad. "Baby, don't try my patience. Otherwise I will punish you severely." - Jungkook asks you. Although it sounds like a pure threat. You smile slyly. You wonder how he can punish you severely?

"Make me, Jeon. I wasn't planning on sitting on your such promiscuous cock tonight." - You say as if you're testing Jungkook's patience. He's horny and eager to get satisfaction, and you won't bite your cheeky tongue. Jungkook slowly approaches you. He doesn't touch you, he just moves a short distance away. You unconsciously squeeze into the seat.

"You have half a minute to take off your clothes and climb on my lap. Otherwise I'll climb on top of you and you'll choke on my cock. Choose, baby." - He says gently. You look at him and realize that you are too excited. The wetness between your legs and the aching more screaming at you to listen to Jungkook and do as he says. Without looking away from your boyfriend's black eyes, you take off your jeans. Jungkook leaned back a little and smiled victoriously, one corner of his lips quirking up. "What a good girl." - He says and returns to his seat. Jungkook lifts his hips and pulls down his sweatpants along with his boxers. He lowers them to his knees so they don't get in the way.

You see Jungkook's erect cock, eager for attention. The thick vein that runs along its length attracts your attention and you want to feel it with your tongue.

You quickly get rid of your jeans and thong. You don't take off your turtleneck, thinking that you don't need to undress completely for a quick fuck.

Jungkook is waiting for you. He pumps his cock several times, smearing his pre-cum. When you climb onto his lap, he smiles evilly. You don't even expect the punishment you're going to get for your long tongue.

You press your pussy against his aroused cock and bite your lip. Jungkook grabs your hips and lifts you up to enter you right away. He won't stretch you this time. You have to be punished today.

You will feel the head of his cock running over your clit. Jungkook uses it to rub your wetness. When he presses his cock against your entrance, you sigh with anticipation. He plunges into you and you think he's going to go slowly, but his hands on your hips jerk you around and he enters you abruptly. A cry of pain escapes your mouth. Jungkook admires you, his lips curved in a cocky smile. Your eyes are closed, your eyebrows are drawn together, and your mouth is open. This expression could easily pass for pleasure, but your face is pure pain.

"You didn't think I'd be gentle, did you? As I remember, you like me to be rough." - Jungkook says with difficulty. His voice is low and husky. He's trying to withstand the way your tight pussy is squeezing his cock.

"It hurts..." - You whimper. Jungkook squeezes your thighs with his fingers and gives a deep thrust. You scream again, but less painfully. Now it's more pleasant than painful.

"You're being punished, not having lovemaking." - Jungkook tells you. You open your eyes and see his face radiating lust and anger at the same time.

"Why are you punishing me? For I telling that you fucked everyone?" - You say slyly. Jungkook looks at you defiantly and slams his hips into you again, plunging his cock into you as much as possible. It's as if he's knocking all the air out of you when he does this. You forget how to breathe when he starts fucking you intensely. You moan in pleasure, moving your hips to meet Jungkook's.

"You need to be punished for running your mouth. What business is it of yours how many I've fucked?" - Jungkook asks, breathing heavily.

"Business?" - You gasp. "It’s my business, because you could have fucked me a long time ago instead of all those whores." - You say indignantly. You talk as if you're not sitting naked on Jungkook in the car right now, filled to the brim with his cock.

"I'm fucking you right now, and I started doing it when we were friends. Aren't you also my slut too?" - Jungkook asks, smiling. You moan as you bounce on him. Are you his whore? Only he and you can't be compared to them.

"No. I'm not..." - You want to tell him not to put you on the same level as those girls. But his cock pounding into you, making you feel incredible, silences you.

"Oh, yeah. Just look at you. You're sitting on my cock and you can't get enough. You love it when I'm rough with you, like a real whore." - Jungkook's voice is hot. Your head is spinning.

Jungkook catches a glimpse of your erect nipples, visible through your black turtleneck. He takes one hand off your hip to free your breasts from your clothes. Your tits fall out and move in time with your movements.

Jungkook doesn't like the way your clothes are in the way. He stops you and takes off the last thing you're wearing, over your head. He throws the turtleneck elsewhere and pounces on your attractive nipples.

Jungkook grabs one in his hand, kisses it gently at first, then swirls his tongue around it several times. He suddenly sucks on the nipple so hard that almost tears barely appear in your eyes. You hiss, just sitting on his cock. Your pussy is throbbing and you wouldn't mind if Jungkook paid attention to your clit. He sucks on your nipples, and it hurts a lot more than all the other times.

"Does it hurt?" - Jungkook asks, pulling away from your breast. You bite your lip so hard that it hurts too. You nod that it hurts, but that's not the right answer. Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. Your punishment continues as he begins to pound you with his hips again, ruthlessly pushing his cock into you. You are as close together as possible, so you can feel his pubic bone with your clit.

Your knees are getting tired of holding onto the narrow seat on the sides of Jungkook's thighs. But Jungkook doesn't care.

He looks down at your pussy and thinks that you must be finally punished. You continue to ride Jungkook's cock and suddenly you feel a blow to your pussy. It doesn't hurt too much. But fuck, it's so unusual. You stop and watch Jungkook's cruel smile in puzzlement.

"This pussy is responsible for your long tongue. You can apologize to her for your impudence." - Jungkook says sweetly. You want to protest, but another stroke silences you, almost choking. Jungkook touches your clit, just as you wanted him to, and he massages it, making you feel euphoric. But when he pinches your clit, you scream. And Jungkook giggles in amusement. You squeeze his shoulder with all your strength, and if he wasn't wearing a sweatshirt, you would have scratched him.

"But you were right, baby. When I was fucking all those girls, I was imagining you." - Jungkook confesses. His voice is still brutal with no hint of sweetness. "Because all I ever wanted was you. You're my cherished dream come true." - You open your eyes and finally see his loving smile. You feel like everything inside you is on fire. He lights you up with a fire that spreads throughout your body. Your soul trembles at his words, as do you. You lean into him and kiss him, putting all your feelings into this kiss. Jungkook responds. Your lips tell each other that you are in love.

Jungkook squeezes your buttocks as he moves you around on his lap. You lean on the seat with one hand to keep your balance. You speed up your movements. You feel Jungkook's cock grinding against your walls. He touches your G-spot, building up your orgasm. A wave of pleasant pleasure slowly covers you. One moment and the knot in the bottom of your stomach breaks, engulfing your body in blissful pleasure.

You moan into Jungkook's ear and he can't get enough of the sound. He keeps fucking you so he can come himself. He hardens to the maximum and lifts your juicy hips to get out of you. You get up and instantly fall back on his lap. His hot cum paints your pussy and his stomach. You watch his cock twitch, spewing white liquid. When it softens, you finally look up at Jungkook. You see him smiling with satisfaction. You reflexively lift your lips in a smile.

"You didn't come in me, so that's a big success." - You joke. Jungkook grabs your neck and pulls you gently.

"Is that mouth ever going to stop being so big?" - He asks before kissing you one last time. You taste your boyfriend's lips and can't get enough.

"Never. I was given to you so that you would never relax in your life." - You answer, pulling away from Jungkook's lips. Jungkook laughs and you get off his lap. You have to clean yourself up. Before you can make it home.

Jungkook dropped you off at house. He wanted to help you carry your things upstairs, but you assured him that you could do it yourself. You argued for a long few minutes and you convinced him. He kissed you goodbye and left for the main office of «Mono Corp».

Jungkook was almost calm. He could have been nervous. After all, Namjoon had found out about everything. But Jungkook had everything under control. He was in Japan those days while you were away, and he was able to return all the devices. And they in Korea by now. Hayato texted he last night and told him that he and the devices were in the port of Busan.

Jungkook parks the Mercedes and goes up to the top floor of the building. He doesn't meet any of his friends on the way and it's a little strange. Where did they all go? He approaches Namjoon's office and greets the secretary. The woman nods and invites him inside. Jungkook crosses the threshold and finds himself in the sacred place for the boss of an influential mafia clan.

He felt heavy, like a mountain pressing down on his chest. This happens every time he finds himself in this place.

Namjoon's office wasn't just a workspace - it was a zone of authority that Jungkook hated and respected at the same time.

Dark wood on the walls, a large panoramic window overlooking the masterpiece lights of Seoul. A huge ebony desk with papers and documents on it reflected the very essence of this place: everything is under control. Namjoon was sitting at the desk, leaning slightly forward, focused, but his expression was not stern. There was an invisible warmth in him, but it was all deliberate.

"Jungkook." - He said quietly, without the usual pressure and threats that accompanied normal meetings in the mafia world. "Have a seat." - He pointed to the couch, which was located away from the table.

"Hello." - Jungkook greeted, bowing him and sat down on the designated seat. Namjoon put some papers aside. He ordered coffee from his secretary for the two of them and stood up from the table.

Jungkook didn't look at Namjoon, but he knew exactly what he was doing. The sound of his expensive shoes broke the silence. Namjoon sat down across from Jungkook and stared at his subordinate.

Jungkook looked up at the leader and stared intently at his expression.

"What's up, kid?" - Namjoon asked with an uncharacteristic warmth in his voice. Jungkook pressed his lips together, showing off his mole under his lower lip.

"All is right." - Jungkook didn't lie. Namjoon lazily turned his head to the side, his gaze remaining calm but studying. His whole appearance was like a challenge, but not aggressive. It was an intellectual strength, a strength that didn't need to be brutal. He looked at Jungkook, and his eyes reflected a patience that could end at any time.

"Why did you hide everything from me?" - Namjoon asks. Jungkook knows exactly what he's talking about.

"Jimin had nothing to do with it. It's completely my fault. So please don't punish him." - Jungkook says at first. This brings a faint smile to Namjoon's lips. He's always so noble.

"Jimin knows me well, he should have foreseen that I would find out about your affairs anyway." - Namjoon said more coldly, showing that Jimin would not escape punishment for covering up for Jungkook. "It's so funny, kid, that you thought I wouldn't know that 50 million dollars disappeared from under my nose." - Namjoon let out a shrill laugh. The laughter echoed in Jungkook's ears like an intrusive fly.

"I didn't think you wouldn't find out, I just wanted to solve it on my own. Without bothering you." - Jungkook said in his defense.

"Solved it?" - Namjoon asked mockingly, raising his eyebrows. Jungkook wanted to answer, but the secretary came into the office with two cups of espresso. She silently put the coffee tray down, clearly sensing the tension around, and left as quickly as she could. Namjoon took the white, small cup with the black drink and took a sip. The aroma of coffee teased Jungkook's receptors. But he didn't want to drink coffee right now.

"Yes." - Jungkook replied, more firmly than he wanted to. Namjoon tasted the coffee and nodded his head.

"I like how you decided. You took almost a month to find out where the devices were. Beat that asshole to a pulp in front of our Japanese partner. And because of you, I wasted 10 minutes of my life listening to his father complain and demand compensation from me for some reason." - Namjoon said. He put the cup of coffee on the table and adjusted his expensive Rolexes.

"I'll explain..." - Jungkook said. He regretted answering so quickly. How could he explain if everything was tied to you?

"What exactly do you want to explain?" - Namjoon clarified. "Why did Doohoon, as soon as he got to Korea, immediately start make trouble to you? Or why did you beat him up and leave his blood all over the hallway? Or how did you manage to lose my 50 million dollars so easily?" - Jungkook exhaled a long breath. There were no answers to these questions, specifically for Namjoon.

"I returned the devices." - Jungkook said, carefully avoiding the topic of Doohoon.

"So what? I don't want them, I want the money." - Namjoon says dryly, and now Jungkook hears the tone he's become accustomed to.

"I'll sell them personally, I already have a new client." - Jungkook says.

"Are you sure, that I have to give you another chance?" - Namjoon asks a rhetorical question. Jungkook looks him in the eye, not afraid of his boss for a second, even though he should be.

"I'll sell them for 100 million." - Jungkook replies, and a spark lights up in Namjoon's eyes.

"100 million." - Namjoon repeats. He is silent for a second and then answers. "Don't let me down, kid. If you don't sell it for 100 million, you know This amount will be added to your debt." - He says, and it's no surprise to Jungkook. It was expected.

"I won't let you down." - Jungkook says. Namjoon finally smiles. It seems that the sum of 100 million dollars has lifted Namjoon's spirits quite a bit. He is relaxing, his posture shows it, and Jungkook is also relieved.

"But the question of Doohoon is still open." - The clan leader speaks up about him.

"I will deal with him as well. Please give me some time." - Jungkook asks. Namjoon stares at him again with a long, piercing gaze.

"Go ahead. But really deal with this brat, because I have enough problems from his father. I have more important things to do." - Namjoon says and finishes his espresso.

"I'll take care of it." - Jungkook promises. Namjoon nods in acknowledgment.

"Why does that guy Doohoon hate you so much? I remember he didn't like you in high school or something." - Namjoon says. Jungkook doesn't want to talk about this topic at all. So he keeps his mouth shut. "But thanks to him, you work for me." - The clan leader suddenly says, and Jungkook looks up at him.

"I'm only working off my debt, no more. Since Doohoon is back in Korea, you could demand your money from him. He's the one who owes you." - Jungkook says a little sharply. Namjoon's face radiates disappointment. He doesn't like the way Jungkook is talking. He would rather have Jungkook work for him voluntarily. He sees Jungkook's essence, and this job he's doing is perfect for him.

"You'll work off his debt because you're just as involved in this." - Namjoon says coldly.

"I didn't turn you in to the police, and I told you that many times. I'm not the reason you lost the money." - Jungkook defends himself.

"I don't care. Whether you were involved or not, the two of you brought him to my club." - Namjoon cuts him off, referring to the police officer's son. Jungkook stops talking and decides that the conversation is over. He gets up from the couch.

"I have to go. I have things to do." - Jungkook bows and is about to leave when Namjoon's words make him freeze in horror.

"So you two became enemies because of your girl friend?" - Namjoon asks. He said he knew everything, didn't he? Jungkook turns and glares at Namjoon. "She's really pretty, I understand why there's a war. How long have you two been living together? Jimin says she has a temper." - He pauses, enjoying Jungkook's look, and continues. "But kid, lets you make sure that your girlfriend doesn't affect my company's income. Really handle everything yourself, so I don't have to interfere personally."

Jungkook has left and you are standing on the street. There is even more snow in Seoul than in Suwon, but all the roads are well plowed. Your hands are freezing from the slight frost, and so you want to get inside as soon as possible.

To get into the building, you have to cross the parking lot, because that's where Jungkook dropped you off. You wrap your jacket tighter because there is a terrible draft in the yard and grab the handle of your suitcase. You walk away thinking about a hot bath. You don't notice the gray Volvo parked in the parking lot, not far from the high-rise building. When you pass by and hear the horn honking, you jump in surprise.

You want to scold the person who honked the horn, but you drop your suitcase, which falls on the snow compacted by cars. Doohoon stands with his car door open and smiles at you with difficulty. He can't do it normally because his face is so beaten up.

His right eyebrow is cut, and it looks like there might even be stitches because he has a large bandage on it. His lip is split in two places. There are severe bruises under both eyes, purple and burgundy in color, which suggests that they are slowly coming off. Doohoon's appearance is horrifying. Only brown eyes, the color of the whiskey, remain of his handsome face.

"Hello, candy." - He greets you, and you just want to run. You instantly remember everything you've been told Jungkook about Doohoon and you want to made him another bruise. You come to your senses. You pick up your suitcase and walk as fast as you can without saying hello to Doohoon. He catches up with you, grabbing your arm. You pull your hand away.

"Don't touch me!" - You shout. Doohoon presses his lips into a line and almost immediately grimaces in pain. His acting is Oscar-worthy.

"Let's talk, candy..." - Doohoon asks you. You feel a kind of growing anxiety. With Doohoon, you felt this all the time.

"We have nothing to talk about with you. Just like all the times before." - You say angrily.

"You came together and you return to his apartment. I can see that my words about Jungkook didn't impress you at all, although you had a slightly different reaction at the party." - Doohoon says. You pierce him with a look worth a hundred knife cuts.

"What's your business with me and my reaction? Stop following me." - You ask. Doohoon smiles, restrained and almost sweet.

"Do you remember what I said to you that night?" - Doohoon asks, but you don't answer. "I told you that I like you. That's why I can't stand aside while Jungkook is with you. It's not stalking, it's caring." - You raise your eyebrows and get even angrier.

"I don't need your concern. I don't like you for the life of me. And your behavior scares me." - You confess. Doohoon laughs heartily.

"Scares you?" - He repeats mockingly. "Does my caring scare you more than Jungkook whose hands are up to their elbows in blood?" - You freeze with a shadow of fear on your face.

"He didn't kill anyone..." - You say quietly, not believing yourself.

"Candy." - Doohoon calls you gently. "He did. You're a smart girl, you should know that people connected to the mafia are not saints. If you knew what he was doing, you'd change your mind." - You stare at each other for a while. You don't know what to say in defense of Jungkook. But Doohoon is wrong. Jungkook is still a very good person who has been trapped. And it's all thanks to Doohoon.

"Whose fault is that?" - You ask. "It's your fault that Jungkook is working for Namjoon." - Your voice is laced with venom. Doohoon takes a step toward you and you can hear your heart pounding, but you remain unmoved.

"Maybe so. But I'm not the one who pulls the trigger on a gun and beats people to death." - Doohoon says looking down at you. You look bravely into his cold eyes. "He is dangerous to you and you realize it. One day you might get hurt because of Jungkook." - Doohoon reaches out and touches your cheek. "That's why I'm here, to save you." - You're not impressed by his words. You knock his hand away.

"Who gave you permission to touch me?" - You ask harshly. "Get off me. Leave me and Jungkook alone. I don't need your concern because I know who you really are." - You jab your finger at Doohoon's chest. "You envious piece of shit." - Doohoon laughs. His anger has been growing as fast as a fire burning through dry grass. Your stance of resistance only strengthened his desire to possess you. Are you deliberately making him obsessed with you?

You walk away and Doohoon doesn't stop you. He looks at you and thinks you just signed your own warrant. He was trying to persuade you to distance yourself from Jungkook in a nice way. It looks like he need to move on to more effective ways.

You disappear from Doohoon's sight and he walks back to the car. Once behind the wheel, he dials the number he needs. Several long beeps reach his ear.

"Hello?" - Doohoon hears on the other end of the phone.

"I need to hire some guys. Remember when we talked about this?" - Doohoon asks. He starts the car and hears the sound of the engine.

"Kidnapp some girl?"

"Yeah. Find those guys who have a beef with Jungkook. I'll come to you right away and we'll talk about it in detail." - Doohoon doesn't wait for an answer and turns off the phone. His Samsung flies to the seat next to him. Doohoon steps on the gas pedal and leaves the parking lot of your and Jungkook's house.

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[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.5): 2 to function - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

about my taglist; ok until this i've been adding people to my taglist even if they didn't use the google form, but since its getting hard to keep track and i don't want to miss anyone, ill only be adding people who submit a google form (linked on my pinned post as well as at the top of every island lookout post). sorry if this is an inconvenience to any!!

part 4- part 5 - part 6

rafe pulled up to roni's house, honking the horn as she took her sweet time coming out. she was late—classic.

when she finally slid into the passenger seat, roni casually pulled out her cart, took a hit, and passed it over to him.without saying a word, she turned her head, blowing the smoke in his direction. rafe rolled his eyes but grabbed the cart out of her hand and took a hit himself.

music was blasting, windows down, the cool air mixing with the haze in the car. it was the perfect vibe—loud, carefree, and like they were in their own world. the drive to target felt like the most natural thing in the world, even if it might’ve been a little dangerous. but hey, they’d done this before. being high wasn’t the same as being drunk. it was fine.

they pulled into target, half-laughing and half-buzzed, like they were on a mission, but also not at all. the whole store was just a blur, with them bouncing between aisles, acting like they owned the place.

after that, they went back to tannyhill, sprawled out on the couch, snacks everywhere. rafe's phone buzzed—it was kelce, calling about something random. before they knew it, it turned into a facetime, and roni took the reins of the conversation.

rafe, needing a break from all the madness, tossed his phone to roni. “here, entertain kelce,” he joked, settling back into the couch. roni grinned and grabbed the phone, instantly hitting screen share. “lets see what he has to hide...” she said as she opened his snapchat memories. each pic was funnier than the last, and she couldn’t help laughing at whatever she found.

then she pressed the "flashbacks from this day" tag at the top, revealing the golden snap from three years ago. rafe, looking extra dramatic, with the caption: “i’m watching you…” roni erupted in laughter, almost dropping the phone. kelce was already cracking up, and the chaos was contagious.

without a second thought, she saved the pic, posted it on kooked.out. the caption reading: “im watching you... #rafeflashbacks.” by the time rafe came back, he saw her still holding his phone, practically on the floor from laughing.

rafe came back into the room, saw her holding his phone, still laughing like a maniac. he raised an eyebrow. “what’d you do?”

roni handed him the phone, the kooked out page with the freshly posted flashback still on the screen.

rafe stared at his phone, confused and starting to go through the comments. “wait, what the hell? why’d you post that?”

she turned back to the phone, still grinning like a maniac. “ok bye kelce, boutta get my ass beat,” she said, cutting the facetime and laughing even harder.

and that was just the beginning. one post turned into another, and suddenly it was a full-on back-and-forth, each one more ridiculous than the last. of course, it wasn’t just them—everyone was watching. the posts blew up, people were commenting, and that only made the whole thing funnier.

they didn’t even think about the consequences— why would they? they were just messing around, having a good time. who cares what might happen when you're high and living the moment with your best, best, friend?

ahaahhhasdjahdj i loved making the posts at the end lollll ok this is for like character developent and next chapter (i think) will be the start of the turning point.

tags under the cut as always, and if u havent, read the notes abt tags at the top to be on my taglist!

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid

[cheapshrimpysheep]

hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise

COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.

I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️‍🩹

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt

TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character

Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.

I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.

CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?

Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.

He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.

You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.

“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”

You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.

I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.

But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?

“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”

You say they are on the entrance table.

“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”

“Let’s go where?”

“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”

Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.

After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.

You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”

You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.

“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”

You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.

“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.

You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.

“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”

You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.

“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”

You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.

“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”

As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.

“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”

Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.

Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.

He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”

You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.

“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”

You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.

“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.

You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.

“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”

You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.

“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[katiekatdragon27]

Dandy's World Roleplay servers are so wild and unhinged that it makes me come up with AUs. And yes, it's shinyshrimp. I'm so cringe <333

So, while in the roleplay server, I got into an argument with a Shrimpo as Glisten about not being able to see proper reflections though Glisten's face. Then a Goob showed up (my sibling) and asked if Shrimpo was a vampire. Then they asked if Glisten (me) was a vampire. Then we asked the Goob if he was a vampire, and he turned emo. And then I shared this experience with my friends, and they egged me on to make an AU about it lol.

Glisten: So. Is this the part where we make out, orrr-?? Shrimpo: WHAT??!

Dandy: No cuz it's genius! If they hate each other, that's two less annoying people to deal with! (He underestimated the power of enemies to lovers)

The general plot is Glisten is a monster hunter and Shrimpo is a human turned vampire-werewolf (he has no memory of how that happened btw). Glisten is specifically hired by Dandicus to hunt down and kill Shrimpo. Glisten manages to hunt Shrimpo down, but since Shimpo hasn't been non-human for that long, he puts up a kinda pathetic fight. Glisten puts Shimpo's arrogant ass in place and refuses to kill him so they can fight honorably. Shrimpo takes this personally lol and strives to get better at fighting so he can show up Glisten.

Badabing badaboom, enemies to lovers setup.

Dandy did not see that coming and it pisses him off lol.

Shrimpo: I HATE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- Astro (to himself): WTF is up with this guy?

This was a doodle recommended by an awesome artist in a server I'm in (dunno if they wanna be tagged lol). Astro being a moon moth thing causes Shrimpo to howl at him lol. Also part of the reason Dandy dislikes Shrimpo lol. Also also, Astro is a witch.

Also also also, here's the emo Goob my sibling became when discussing vampires. He unemos when he becomes a weredog lol.

Below is a buncha doodles all about Glisten (and his failing mental health).

TW FOR UNINTENTIONAL S.H. PROCCED WITH CAUTION:

You guys know Wiggle from Bugsnax? You guys know Millie from Helluva Boss? Yeah. They were the main inspos for this design hc lol (the buck teeth part not the insecurity part).

I have this goofy hc that Glisten's og design never intended to give him buck teeth. When being made, the ichor messed up and gave it to him. Learning about this is his first instance of feeling insecure about himself, and he develops the mannerism of covering his mouth when laughing (bc it makes his teeth really obvious lol)

And since Glisten now has buck teeth, that means Shimmer also gets buck teeth! However, her reaction to them was completely different to how her dad reacted to his.

I have this hc that Glisten can't handle backlash that well. With the machine messing up with his face (his teeth), and his general vibe being disliked by many people of the time of Gardenview (prob bc the 90s and very queer-coded kids' character didn't exactly mix well), he feels this crippling pressure to be the "perfect" version of himself.

If he deems you lower than him, your words don't matter. He doesn't care what you think about him

However, if he views you as an equal or higher, any kind of negative opinion said to him will be taken personally, and will either be repressed into self-hatred, or actively worked upon in order to be "better" (which ends up hurting him more depending on the situation.) His need for perfecting also makes him a workaholic when in a spiral, leading him to self-isolate and just kinda hide away from everyone for a couple days, and sometimes injure himself trying to get better on his own (he has a tendency to scratch his arms and face too, only fueling his need for isolation).

He refuses to open the door and get food outside, so ppl will slide him snacks and things under the door. People still care about him, but he'll never them see him cry.

Glisten has such horrid insecurity that he will never let anyone see. However, not everything is bleak for the guy.

Shimmer: Hey Dad! Guess what!? My teeth grew in! Now I look like you! Isn't that cool?!

She was not born with them unlike Glisten. Instead, they grew in near her "10th" birthday. She was very happy to have them. I like to think that seeing Shimmer be so happy to have a very sensitive trait of Glisten and loving every second of it helps him heal a bit of his insecurity.

After all, how can he hate a part of himself that his kid adores?

Kids don't fix everything, but they can aid in healing lol

Have a good one dudes^^

[yellosnacc]

What is magic and witchery in this world? because I remember you talking about "magic" & some characters being "witches", is there actual magic or is it something else?

Okay, so I will probably make a #witches tag because I kinda just hide this stuff to not make people think of my setting as a fantasy. That should be the ALTERNATE UNIVERSE fantasy version where Neal does spells.

So this planet is not under natural circumstances. If it were a normal planet it's possible life wouldn't even occur. And there definitely wouldn't be sophonts. And if, there DEFINITELY wouldn't be 5 separate ones with 4 being of separate animal kingdoms.

And this same force that has led to this happening is also the source of "witchcraft". Something of a brain extension most often appearing as stronger senses that aren't closed of inside the body of the person. Like nerves in the air around the person.

And this is 'genetic'. One can improve the ability but not awaken it. These witches are often born or develop various mutations or disabilities as their brain grows into wrong shapes in their skull or they have bones where they shouldn't be etc. Most common issues differ per species since there are common side effects for each sophont. Slomen most often experience worse motor and fine motor skills, introvertness (sloman standards), and worse social abilities in total. Less, but still common physical mutations are extra fingers, white coloration inside their eye stalks, skin conditions, and slower growth rate with a higher growing threshold.

And sometimes someone who looks different may be a witch, it's definitely not a rule. Still, many societies, especially in this day and age, see disability and strangeness as a sign of witchcraft.

And witches are easy targets in political difficulties as they are quite a small minority. So you can imagine what that can lead to.

There have been actual witch hunts in the planet's history with most resulting in much more non-witch death. Targeting the ones with knowledge and seeing "better sense of the world and science" for the usual historical reasons.

Today there are many opinions on witchcraft. "They spread sickness" as they are less prone to being sick in times of plague, "they are divine god gifts" as some may train to predict the weather or create fire, "they are punishments" as they struggle to fit in society or "they are firepower" as that would be the case for big part of the planet 50 years ago during the first contact.

It would take a long time to explain how all cultures feel because each one has a long history of why, as witches are just inherently there. They aren't new. They have been here as long as sophonts themselves.

Fueem, Neal and some other characters of mine are witches. And they deal with their own specific struggles. I will say more about them in the next ask that relates to this.

[angelltheninth]

Love and Deepspace Men Pining For You

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst with a happy ending, love confession, jealousy, kissing, friends to lovers, pining

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Someone needs to take my phone away before I go crazy over these guys. Unless it already happened and I didn't notice.

Zayne is always surrounded by all kinds of attention from women but the only woman he wants the attention of is you. Because he's popular he gets that he might have to be more clear about his intentions with you. It's not just him teasing or being playful when he asks you to those lunch dates, it's not just him wanting to fluster you when he touches your cheek with his fingertips. That is him being completely serious about wanting to date you, wanting to be your boyfriend. You being his girlfriend would make him the happiest man in the world. And if he was your boyfriend he would make sure you never want for anything, he would do anything in his power to make you happy and keep you safe. Kisses would be includes, but they would be more of a bonus to the relationship, a welcome one.

Rafayel feels his whole body flushing when your hands touch. What started as a simple admiration for you has developed into so much more, it's not just about him wanting to be the main subject of his artwork, but the only woman he wants to be his lover. The courtship starts with him painting sceneries that he knows you like and then gifting them to you, they're on small canvases so you can take quite a few of them. Every time he notices you talking to some other guy he gets this adorable pout on his face that he hides by quickly turning on his heel and storming off. Often asks you for whet he should draw next, saying how much he values you and your opinion. He's confesses by saying he's always liked painting beautiful things and to him there's no one more beautiful than you.

Xavier thinks over every little thing you do together, carefully combing through your interactions to try and figure put if you like him too. It could be that he's just imagining things and his affections are one-sided. He would hate that of course but his primary goal is to make sure you're safe and happy. As he finds himself thinking more and more of you when he's away he gets scared. Scared that something bad might happen and you won't ever get to find out how he feels about you. Before he's set to leave again he envelopes you in a tight hug, telling you that he will come back for sure, because there's a woman he loves and he will get back to her one way or another. He doesn't kiss you as he leaves, that should be saved for when he comes back, and it is.

Sylus doesn't hold back once you catch his eyes, he saw you and it doesn't matter who saw you before him. He wants you for himself now, he wants to win you over and wants you to only look at him, to only think of him. Very flirty from the beginning and therefore a little hard to read at how genuine he's being with his advances. After a few nights spent together he can't stop thinking about you. Waking up to you is the best part of his day, as is falling asleep next to you. He wants to hold on to those feelings forever, wants to hold onto you forever. Every kiss from you makes his mind go wild in ways he never experianced before. He never expected to fall for you, or that you would return his feelings past the desires you felt for each other, but he did fall, deep and fast and hard, and he's taking you with him.

Caleb has been pining after you for years, before you went your separate ways. You were the only one who kept him going though all these years and now he finally has you back. He doesn't intent to let you go again, or to let any other man have you. The kisses he gives, the touches he makes, the words he speaks leave no room for doubt of his feelings but he also doesn't want to force these feelings onto you. Every day he tells you how much he loves you, hoping that one day he'll hear it back. When he does he honestly thinks he's still dreaming, that you aren't even there, that you were never real, that you can't love the man he is now. But you can, and you do, and just like him you never want to let him go again.

[mcrdvcks]

so, i've been working on this anakin skywalker/darth vader series and i thought about some fluffy/smutty things with anakin. so, enjoy! these may seem a bit out of character, but let's just say that if anakin wasn't manipulated by palpatine, this is who he would be, just a man in complete and utter love with his girl <3 (also, this is one of my first times writing for him, so be kind pls!)

warnings/tags: senator!fem!reader, fluff, obi-wan knows but pretends not to, ahsoka and rex are little shits, the 501st, anakin is a loverboy, smut, anakin is a munch (i'm sorry, but it's true), oral (f!receiving), fingering, mention of edging, overstimulation, unprotected piv, exhibitionism(?), creampie

You and Anakin first met when he and Obi-Wan were assigned to you. You were a young senator, and he was still a Padawan.

There was a threat on your life, as there always seems to be.

Obi-Wan was immediately suspicious of the lingering looks between you and Anakin but chose not to confront either of you directly. He settled for pointedly clearing his throat whenever Anakin's gaze lingered too long.

Your first conversation alone with Anakin involved him awkwardly asking if it was always so exhausting being a senator. You replied with a laugh, "only when someone keeps trying to kill me."

Anakin insisted on personally checking your quarters every night, even though Obi-Wan assured him the threat wasn't likely to appear beneath your bed. "You can't be too careful, Master," Anakin would reply, failing to hide the slight blush on his cheeks.

Padmé noticed something developing between you two during senate meetings. "Be careful, Y/N," she'd tease gently. "You might distract him enough to compromise your own protection."

During an assassination attempt, Anakin instinctively shielded you with his own body, whispering fiercely afterward, "I won't let anything happen to you." Obi-Wan pretended not to notice the intensity in his Padawan's voice.

You found yourself making excuses to keep Anakin around, such as requesting extra sparring lessons for "self-defense." Obi-Wan didn't comment but raised an eyebrow every time he walked past the training room.

The first time Anakin saw you dressed formally for a diplomatic event, he stumbled over his words. Obi-Wan had smirked knowingly and commented, "careful, Anakin. A Jedi must always remain focused."

You quickly realized Anakin had difficulty hiding his jealousy whenever another senator or dignitary complimented you. "You're pouting," you'd tease lightly. "Jedi don't pout," he'd insist stubbornly, folding his arms defensively across his chest.

The Jedi Council had suspicions of attachment, but Obi-Wan regularly vouched for Anakin, albeit with weary sighs and pointed glances toward his Padawan.

When the Clone Wars started Anakin became a bit more confident, and perhaps a bit more cocky.

There was one time that you were going to negotiate with some Separatist senators and Anakin and Ahsoka were there to be your protection.

Ahsoka was immediately suspicious the moment she saw Anakin adjusting your cloak before the negotiations. "Master," she whispered with a teasing grin, "I don't remember cloak-straightening being part of our Jedi duties."

Anakin would pointedly stand a bit too close during diplomatic meetings, earning amused looks from Separatist senators. "You know," you'd whisper afterward, "you're not very subtle." He'd frown slightly, "I'm just being thorough."

Obi-Wan pretended not to overhear when Rex quietly asked Anakin why he insisted on assigning an entire clone squadron outside your door during missions. "Security measures," Anakin would respond stiffly, ignoring Rex’s knowing nod.

That’s not to say you were any better. Whenever Anakin addressed you with something other than your name it was either “senator” or “angel.” But when you addressed him you would say, “I can handle myself big guy.”

Ahsoka and Rex always suspected something was up with the two of you. In fact, the entire 501st knew you two were more than just friends. There were even betting pools.

Ahsoka and Rex one day went to go ask Anakin about some mission plans. Ahsoka, not bothering to knock, opened the door to his quarters on the Resolute, only to find the two of you kissing. You shoved Anakin away and tried to come up with an excuse as to why you were in a Jedi General’s quarters on a Venator.

“I was… uh… fixing his hair?” You said slowly, looking down at Anakin on the floor after you had shoved him away.

After Ahsoka caught you and Anakin kissing, Rex tried to keep a straight face while he quietly handed credits to Fives. "Don't say a word," Rex muttered, giving Anakin a pointed look.

Obi-Wan sighed dramatically when Ahsoka accidentally blurted the incident to him later. "I suppose it's better I pretend I didn't hear that," he said wearily, rubbing his temples.

Anakin insisted nothing changed afterward, but his voice would always soften noticeably whenever he addressed you in front of others, earning amused smirks from Obi-Wan.

Cody once teased Rex about Anakin’s protective habits toward you. "Your General realizes Senator Y/N has a blaster, right?" Rex shrugged, smirking. "Good luck convincing him that matters."

You frequently borrowed Anakin’s Jedi cloak during missions, claiming it was "just because it was cold," even when it clearly wasn't.

Whenever Anakin had a short break from the war, he would never go to his room in the Jedi Temple. He’d always stay at your apartment by the Senate. Which meant Artoo beeping at Threepio to “shut up!” after watching you and Anakin share just a little peck. “But Artoo! It is inherently against the—” Beep!

Artoo had developed a habit of casually "accidentally" locking Threepio out of your quarters whenever Anakin came over. "Oh dear! Master Y/N, there seems to be a malfunction again—" Beep-boop! "How rude!"

Sometimes Anakin would fall asleep on your couch after a mission, and you'd wake him gently, whispering, "You know, I do have a bed." He'd mumble sleepily back, "too far. Come here," before tugging you down beside him.

Obi-Wan once remarked dryly, noticing Anakin absent again, "odd how Skywalker always manages to lose his comlink connection whenever he's planetside near the Senate apartments."

You frequently teased Anakin about his messy hair after he'd return from missions. He'd always grin, shrugging, "It's a war out there, angel—styling gel wasn't exactly on my mind."

Rex eventually started positioning himself subtly at the Senate apartment's entrance whenever Anakin visited, nodding politely whenever you opened the door. "Just checking security, Senator," he'd say with a perfectly straight face.

One evening, Anakin realized he'd accidentally left his Jedi cloak behind in your apartment. He spent an entire council briefing distracted, trying to invent excuses as to why he needed to return immediately. Obi-Wan sighed knowingly, "Anakin, I'm sure your cloak is perfectly safe wherever you've misplaced it."

Padmé couldn't help but smile when she noticed Anakin discreetly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before a Senate session. She leaned over, whispering softly, "I'm glad to see you're both being very subtle."

You once jokingly asked Anakin if he preferred the Jedi Temple accommodations to your apartment. He responded dramatically, "Well, the Jedi beds don't come with you in them, so..."

Obi-Wan eventually stopped asking why Anakin was so quick to volunteer for any missions involving the Senate. He'd just pinch the bridge of his nose, sigh, and mutter, "Of course you will."

Occasionally, you'd find yourself wearing Anakin's Jedi belt during sparring sessions. When Ahsoka raised an eyebrow suspiciously, you'd quickly stammer, "I... misplaced mine," as Anakin bit back a smirk.

One night, while quietly curled together in your apartment, you softly asked Anakin if he ever worried about being caught. He gently stroked your hair, whispering reassuringly, "there's no one I'd rather risk everything for."

Obi-Wan purposefully avoided questioning why Artoo always seemed more eager to accompany Anakin to the Senate apartments than to the Jedi Temple. "Well, Anakin, your droid has certainly developed refined political tastes."

18+

Anakin is of course obsessed with you. But what else is he obsessed with? Your pussy. Sometimes you swear he could spend hours in between your legs.

He likes to edge you and then finally—finally—let you come, only to then keep making you come with nothing more than his tongue and fingers.

"Stop squirming." His voice low, cocky. Your thighs trembling as his fingers moved in slow, maddening circles. "I said I'd let you come, angel. Didn’t say I’d stop after."

He never did. Not when he had you pinned under him in the dim light of your apartment, his tongue dragging slow, obscene strokes over your swollen clit while your hips bucked helplessly against his mouth. "Ani—Anakin, I—"

"Shhh. I’m not done." He licked his fingers clean like he was tasting wine. "Still shaking. That means you’ve got more in you."

Ahsoka walked past your quarters once and paused, squinting at the faint, rhythmic thudding. She tilted her head. Rex caught up behind her. "Don’t," he muttered.

"But—"

"Nope."

 "Angel," he breathed, dragging you onto his lap in the pilot seat of his starfighter, parked in a shadowed hangar. "Just one more before I deploy."

“We’re in the hangar.” You hissed. “Anyone can see.”

"Let them," Anakin growled, voice thick, lips pressed to your neck as his fingers slipped under your robes, brushing the slick mess between your thighs. "You think I care if they see who you belong to?"

"You're insane," you breathed, back arching as he pushed two fingers inside you, slow and possessive.

"No," he smirked, licking a stripe up your throat. "I'm in love."

You clenched around his fingers and he groaned low, grinding you against his palm like he needed to memorize the way you pulsed for him.

"Five minutes," he muttered, thumb brushing your clit in cruel little circles. "Give me five minutes, and I’ll have you shaking in my lap."

"Anakin, we don't have—"

"Shhh," he whispered. "Just listen. That sound? That’s how wet you are for me. That’s mine, angel."

He pulled his pants down just enough for you to sink down onto him.

"Fuck," he hissed, head tipping back against the seat, fingers digging into your hips. "You feel so tight already."

You bit your lip, stifling a moan as your thighs trembled around him. "You said five minutes."

"Mmhm. And you’re wasting every second riding slow like this," he growled, slamming his hips up, forcing a yelp from your throat.

"You’re impossible," you gasped, nails dragging down his chest.

"And you're mine," he grunted, hands gripping under your thighs, bouncing you on his cock like the starfighter cockpit was just another room he owned. "Say it."

"Yours," you breathed, head falling forward onto his shoulder. "Kriff, Anakin—"

"Good girl," he whispered, tongue flicking against your ear. "Keep saying it."

His comm crackled to life behind you—static, a clone captain’s voice faintly audible. He didn’t even flinch. Just thrust up harder.

"Anakin," you whispered, eyes wide. "Your comm."

He grinned. "If they’re calling me, they’ll wait."

I know I said that Anakin is obsessed with your pussy, but I think I understated it. This man will not stop until you’re on the brink of a blackout.

In fact, he will continue slowly fucking his own come into you. At that point you can only manage a little shove that doesn’t even move him.

The expensive sheets on your bed were soaked with sweat and Maker knows what else. But that didn’t stop him. When he first went down on you the sun was out, and now it was dark, his cock still thrusting in and out of you.

"Anakin," you breathed, voice ragged, face buried in the crook of his neck, "it's dark out."

"Mhm." His teeth grazed your jaw. "And?"

"You haven't stopped."

He grunted, slow and deep. "You haven't told me to."

Your fingers dragged through the sweat-slick mess of his hair. "I'm trying."

He laughed, low and ruined. "No, you're not."

You didn’t even flinch when the bed creaked again under another rough thrust. Your thighs had long stopped shaking. You were beyond that. Just boneless now, mouth parted, skin flushed, brain soft and melting from hours of him.

"You know," he murmured, dragging his teeth along your collarbone, "I think I came three times."

"You think?"

He leaned back, looked at you—dazed, proud, eyes gleaming with that fucked-out blue edge. "You kinda scrambled me a little."

You snorted, but it dissolved into a gasp when he shifted again, still buried in you, cock dragging against hypersensitive spots. "Kriff, Ani—"

"Say it again."

You blinked. "Say what?"

"Ani." He smirked. "Say it like that."

You rolled your eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"Mhm. And you're mine." He gripped your hips, thrust up. Hard. "Say it."

"Kriff—you’re impossible—"

"Say it."

"Yours! Maker, Anakin—yours."

His head dropped to your chest, lips dragging across your skin. "Good girl."

You were halfway to sleep when he shifted again, groaning quietly. "Still hard," he murmured, almost apologetic.

"You’re kidding."

"I'm not." He kissed the underside of your breast. "Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work this time."

You slapped his arm weakly. "There's nothing left to work with."

He laughed against your skin. "Don't need much. Just a pretty little mess to ruin."

yeah... i might've gotten a tad bit carried away

[ghostxrose]

𝑫𝒊𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Part One |

Summary ~ The news of you getting killed in action hurt Katsuki far worse than any villain ever could, than any villain ever has, and he’s died before. But when the details, or lack thereof, of your death reach Katsuki’s ears, there’s too many things that don’t add up. So, while avidly ignoring the concerned words of his friends telling him to grieve and try to move on, Katsuki starts his own investigation into your “death.” Where exactly this path will lead him, he isn’t sure, but he’s hoping it’s back to you.

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!Reader, canon-typical violence, character death (kinda🤭), undercover work, angst, eventual fluff, slight themes of body/image/identity dysmorphia/derealization, shady HPSC tingz, more tags to come as the story develops..

Note ~ Hi Lovelies, it's been awhile..😅 Anywho, this is the fic from this teaser that I posted almost two months ago, heh.. Please know that I love and appreciate all of you!! Hope you all enjoy the read! <3 <3 <3

Ps, if the summary sucks, I'm sorryyy. It might be temporary because I kinda hate it, but I didn't want to give away too much🥲

“No one can know, Ms. L/N. Absolutely no contact at any point. Not with your friends. Not with your family. Not with your fiance.” The HPSC Director’s stern tone is almost as hard as the steely look in their eyes.

“I understand, Director-” You firmly assure, forcing confidence and determination to hide the fear lingering beneath.

“I should hope so. Just remember that you signed up for this willingly.” The Director cuts you off with their daunting words, something in their tone sending an unpleasant shiver of fear down your spine…

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

“She’s gone..”

Katsuki can remember those damned words being sputtered by your stupid fiance clear as day. He remembers how he was reluctantly dragged by Kirishima to the apartment you shared with that lame-ass extra on the basis that he needed to discuss something with everyone. “Everyone” meaning the group of people that you had been friends with since UA. People that extra was only friends with because he was in a relationship with you.

“I said, she’s gone..”

Your dumb ass fiance had repeated in response to Katsuki’s disbelief-ridden question. But he still hadn’t quite understood what your fiance had meant. Where had you gone? On a mission? On a vacation? Did you run away as a means of breaking up with this extra that you had claimed you loved? Katsuki was struggling to understand why so many people around him had dissolved into tears.. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to understand.

“-she’s dead..”

Kirishima had dumped the ice-cold reality of your fiance’s words over Katsuki with a hand on his shoulder and a teary, sympathetic look on his face. Clarity had run through him like an electric shock, and for just a moment, his normal facade had cracked. But the only person who had seen the anguish was Kirishima seconds before Katsuki shoved his best friend’s hand off his shoulder and stormed out of the apartment.

Everything had felt so surreal and suffocating, and he was panting by the time he had burst out of the main doors of the apartment complex. All he wanted was to go home to his own apartment where he could feel his feelings in private, but Kirishima had driven. So, he started walking, staring ahead blankly as the cold winter air bit at the exposed skin of his face and neck. Unfortunately, the cold had done nothing to wake Katsuki from the nightmare he had been so sure he was having.

Since that day, Katsuki has been repeatedly going through the five stages of grief. Every time he thinks he’s finally accepted that you’re gone, that feeling of something being off with this whole situation pulls at the back of his mind and sends him right back to the denial stage. He tried to talk to Kirishima, Midoriya, and Ashido about it, but they just looked at him with such pity and sadness that it made his skin crawl. He still doesn’t understand how everyone else has just accepted that you’re gone. Even your dumb fiance accepted your death without question and has moved on to a new relationship. However, the fact that the extra was able to move on so fast just makes Katsuki wonder even more just why you had ever wasted your time with that loser.

Katsuki’s therapist believes that the reason for his setbacks in the grieving process, along with his feeling of something being off, is due to the regret he feels. Regret for never telling you how he felt about you. Regret for letting you waste your time, effort, and love on some sleazebag who only ever just gave you the bare minimum. But his regret isn’t the source of this feeling sitting like a rock in his gut, at least, not in his opinion.

His suspicions started a few months after your death when he had asked your fiance for the full story behind what had happened to you. The guy told Katsuki that he was contacted by the HPSC, and they told him that you had been killed in action. That was Katsuki’s first red flag. Typically, HPSC officials would go to the home of the next of kin, and deliver the news of their loved one’s passing that way. The fact that they had called your fiance is extremely weird.

The second red flag that had been raised in Katsuki’s mind came after he had asked your fiance if anyone from the HPSC had come by to bring him in to identify your body. Your fiance had given Katsuki a strange look as he shook his head. He told Katsuki that he was only given the address to the funeral home where he had picked up your ashes. It had taken everything in Katsuki to not make a face at your fiance, he was truly astounded that someone could be so blindly trusting. Then again, the majority of the population isn’t aware of the kind of shit that the HPSC pulls in the name of “good”.

The last red flag that caught Katsuki’s attention and pushed him to believe that something was definitely off about your sudden death, he found on his own. He had stayed late at his agency, waited for everyone to leave, and spent the night in his office searching through every reported crime that had been made in the area of your patrol route from the day you supposedly died. The area you had patrolled that day has always been known for being pretty sketchy with the crime rates and villain activity there being pretty high. Even so, you were a very capable hero, it’s one of the reasons why Katsuki admired you so much. He knew that you could have handled yourself in nearly any situation.

When Katsuki had finished reading through the nearly 60 reports made that day of nothing but low-level activity in that area, it was pretty much confirmed in his mind that there was something that the HPSC was hiding. As he had sipped on what was probably his fifth coffee, he couldn’t tell if he was moving further away from or moving closer toward becoming the “string-covered-conspiracy-theory-board” guy.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Sitting at his desk, Katsuki lets out a heavy sigh as he fights the urge to rub his tired eyes because he knows that’ll just irritate them further. Finishing up his written patrol report, he pushes it off to the side, mentally assuring himself that he’ll file it away properly later. He slides his keyboard closer to himself and hits the space bar to wake his computer, then types in his password when prompted. One hand shifts over to the mouse, and he opens the database program. He goes through the process of uploading a clear photo of your face, then hits the button. It’s not long before he’s zoning out while staring at the rapidly changing faces in the small window next to your photo.

He’s done this every day since his doubts about you being dead surfaced. He’s never gotten a single hit, but he can’t stop running the program. He can’t stop any of his efforts to find you because just the thought of giving up and accepting that you’re gone makes his chest feel so tight that he can’t breathe. He doesn’t care how long it’s been or how long it’ll take, you’re out there and he will find you.

Even if it has been two years.

Two. Fucking. Years.

It’s been two years since you died. Two years since your (ex)fiance held a private “Celebration of Life” for close friends and family. Two years since the HPSC announced your death to all of Japan. Two years since a public vigil was held so that the country could come together to honor your memory.

Two years since everybody so easily ate up a ridiculous lie without question.. everybody except Katsuki.

“Pretty sure your therapist suggested that you stop doing this, man..” Kaminari’s voice coming from right next to him forces Katsuki back into reality.

“Fuck off, Dunce. You don’t know shit about what my therapist says.” Katsuki growls out, shoving Kaminari away from him and into Kirishima.

“I overhear what you tell Kiri sometimes..” Kaminari admits under his breath before realizing that maybe he shouldn’t have if the death glare on Katsuki’s face is anything to go by.

Once he feels that Kaminari is properly shaken, Katsuki lets the matter go, for now, with a heavy sigh, “What are you extras even doing here? Go home.” He mutters, giving into the urge to rub his face while leaning forward and bracing his elbows against the desk.

“C’mon man, you know why we’re here.. Go get changed, then we can drive over together,” Kirishima says gently, carefully, like Katsuki is an unwilling child. It pisses Katsuki off for a multitude of reasons. The main one is that there’s a difference between acting petulant about going somewhere and refusing to attend some stupid annual dinner to honor someone who isn’t even dead.

Katsuki’s lip curls as he lets out a sigh of frustration, and he leans back in his desk chair, sending a look to Kirishima, “This shit ended in disaster last year. I don’t know why any of you thought it would be a good idea in the first place to bring a group of grieving people out to their “dead” friend’s favorite izakaya. Why try to make a tradition out of ugly crying and public intoxication? How is that ‘honoring Y/N’s memory’-”

“Jesus, dude.. maybe you would understand it if you just accepted that she’s gone already!” Kaminari snaps uncharacteristically, making Katsuki pause his rant to stare at him in shock as the electric blonde rushes out of the room.

Kirishima let out a tired sigh, watching Kaminari’s retreat before looking back to Katsuki with a not-so-subtle hint of disappointment in his eyes, “Come or don’t come, Katsuki, it’s up to you. Just don’t judge how the rest of us decide to heal.” Kirishima says quietly before walking out of the room.

Katsuki lets out a low growl through gritted teeth as he scrubs a hand over his face. He leans back in his desk chair and glares at the computer screen. Guilt bubbles in his stomach from upsetting his friends, much to his frustration. He doesn’t want to go to that stupid izakaya. He wants to stay here in his office like he does every night continuing his search for any signs of you. He watches the database program sift through faces for a moment longer before cursing softly and standing from his chair.

Tags List ~ @emmaiscool22 @rosy-hollow @ch3rryjampi3 @maddie-rose-1 @lilac-heartz

Divider credit ~ @saradika-graphics

[yoonmetogether]

Not In the Cards prelude pt. 3 - strangers

pairing: gambler/drug dealer!yoongi x grad student!fem!reader rating: mature MDNI! 18+ only. Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked!!! genre: strangers-to-lovers, age gap, intro to e2l mafia/bodyguard au summary: he takes his time with you. will he make it last? warnings/tags: angst, scars, theft, implied gang activity/violence, 97% smut lolol, oral (m. and f. receiving), usage of sl*t, tit/ass smacking, slight masochism, cock warming, yoongi’s kinda a dom, reader’s kinda shy but mostly a brat, bantering, dialogue heavy, reader cries, a crumb of fluff, yoongi pov (he's going thru it), pls let me know if i missed anything!! also this is barely proofread so my bad for any mistakes, i'll go back and fix stuff eventually i just need this out of my system lol wc: 11.6k lmaooooooo thanks again to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo for her fantastic support and feedback; to @syllviere for helping me come up with mafia names for jin and jungkook, and figuring out some lines and scenes and character development (her mind is just 😩🤌); and finally to @moochii-daisies for giving some wonderful commentary <3333 y'all are amazinggggggg

prologue l ch 1. play nice l prelude pt 1. strangers l prelude pt. 2 l prelude pt. 3 l ch. 2 ... l

The first thing that drew you to Min Yoongi was his voice. Husky and mystifying, like a storm settling down on the distant horizon after a night of raging, dragging you into the dark depths of lust and filth and enthrallment. Then his hands, warm between your legs and even warmer wrapped up in your fingers.

Now, it’s his hooded brown eyes as he stares at you, pressing you into the wall of the foyer, shoes off, hat and bag and bandanna dropped. Your blood roils when he leans in close, his face dewy, flushed, and beautiful. Ethereal.

That small pinch in his brows returns, and just as you’re about to crack at him with a defensive ‘the fuck are you looking at’ to rival the pressue in your chest, he raises a hand to press on the wall above your head. Leftover rain drips down the tips of his stringy bangs as his slow blinking stare moves to and doesn’t falter from your mouth.

He cups your chin, running a thumb down the corner of your lip, underneath it, an unreadable expression on his face and then he kisses you again; soft, gentle. Slow.

You’re pressed between his chest and the wall as he licks embers into your mouth, your hands sliding up to his clothed, solid muscles. Once on his shoulders and under the jacket, he drops his arms so you can shove it down to the floor, hands falling to your waist and gripping tight, pushing your hips into his.

In a somewhat coordinated fashion, he moves you over to the bed, and you end up in between his legs again as he sits on the edge, letting him tear off your jacket and shirt and unclip your bra, strewing them over the bed. You comb through his wet hair as he trails his lips down your sternum, across your breasts. His mouth attaches on your bare tit, lips pursing and tongue lapping against the bud, making your head tip back in bliss.

Your nails scratch down his back and he purrs over your skin, mouth alternating between your nipples as you touch over his chest, the wet cling of his t-shirt.

“Can I take this off?” you request softly, pulling at the fabric on his shoulder.

“Turn the light off first.” Your eyebrows knit and you want to ask what he’s hiding from you, but you’re sure if you made the request, he’d comply without question. You kiss him before moving away, his hands lingering on your waist for as long as possible.

Prior to casting the room into darkness, you remember to retrieve a condom - the very reason you ventured out in the middle of the night. You toss it in his direction that he catches with ease and move back to the table, stuffing the bag of food in the minifridge and finally switching off the lamp. When you return to him, you waste no time yanking off his shirt, and he raises his arms with a chuckle at your eagerness.

The only light comes from a distant lamp outside, and the occasional illuminations from the storm, allowing you to at least see the silhouette of his torso. In awe, you drag your hands down, smoothing over his chest, tracing the subtle lines of muscle as you kiss him. But your eyebrows furrow when you pass over a small area of raised skin on his right shoulder, just under his collarbone. You run your thumb across it, stomach dropping when you feel that it’s particularly… round.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise. But it shocks you, only because you hate the thought of where he got it from. And how many more just like it he has.

When you part, your meddlesome tongue loosens to drop a blunt question, but his tough hand pulls your wrist away from that spot.

“Don’t say anything,” he pleads under his breath, and your heart twinges at the pain radiating from that soft whisper and you have no desire to inflict more of it. Fingers tenderly tangled in his hair, you tilt his head up and kiss him with your silent promise that this is territory you won’t ask questions about. He sighs against you, shoulders deflating.

“My turn,” you mumble, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, to his chest and sternum, sinking to your knees. He spreads his legs as you work open his belt and jeans, pulling them down with his boxers, tantalizingly slow. He kicks them away once they reach his ankles and you plant your hands on his thighs, slowly caressing up to his hips, humming at his soft skin. 

“The universe took its time with you, huh?” you muse, straying from his exposed dick so you can feel over his slightly toned stomach, and clarify in a murmur,

“I mean all of you when I say that.”

Nothing answers you, but you don’t mind as you gently wrap your fingers around his hard length, long and thick and barely able to fit in one hand. He takes a shuddering breath and leans back as you let spit fall onto his tip, spreading it with your thumb to mix with the precum that dribbles out at your ministrations.

As you take him into your mouth, the low growl that tapers on the end of his sigh as you wrap your lips around him and suck only makes you wish you could see more than the silhouette of his expression to know what you’re starting to do to him.

Hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, you prepare to take more of him in. His hips jerk as you bring him further back into the wet heat of your mouth, both of you moaning when he hits the back of your throat and he apologizes for his involuntary thrust.

Dismissively shaking your head, you take him even more and pause, doing your best to accommodate him, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes shut in concentration. He bucks his hips again, moaning when you take him a little further and gag, goosebumps covering your skin as he brushes back a loose strand of hair on your forehead.

“You sound so fucking hot choking on my dick, dollface,” he groans, fingers pressing into your scalp, and you keep going to draw out more of his sounds and praise, pairing it with twists of your hand on his shaft.

Jaw aching, you divert a little attention to his balls, and your clit throbs at his loud moan as you suck one into your mouth, continuing to jerk his shaft.

It doesn’t take long for him to mutter out, “Shit, I’m close.”“Already?” Because of course you have to tease as you bring your mouth back to his shaft.

“I’ve been hard for hours.”

“Poor you.”

He scoffs and pushes at your head to send you back down on his dick, so you increase your pace of twisting and bobbing, salivating at his breathy moans warning his release.

Suddenly, he sharply inhales and stands up, knocking you on your haunches, large palm on the top of your head angling it back. Lightly smacking your hand away, he pushes into your mouth to thrust in and out with your tongue laid flat on a thick vein.

With one buck of his hips and then another, he pulls out, growling as he rapidly jerks himself, knuckles tapping your lip and chin.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawls as his release ropes onto your tongue, and your eyes close at the heat sliding down your throat, swallowing all of him down.

“Good girl.” And then you’re roughly tugged up by your elbows to stand chest to chest with him, lips smashing onto yours with an immediate tongue in your mouth.

You let him kiss you in this fiery way of his 

“Lay down. I’m gonna ride you.”

“Oh, are you calling the shots?” He muses, plopping back down.

“I’ve been calling the shots this entire time. Problem?”

“Yeah,” he puffs. “Still you.”

Shaking your head, you lift yourself by your knees onto the mattress as he maneuvers to rest against the headboard, fingers trickling the outsides of your thighs as you straddle him.

You squint as he sticks his two middle fingers in his mouth, rolls them over his tongue, and pulls them out with a lewd pop. You fall forward to grab onto his shoulders as he slides through your folds and curls into your cunt, scissoring you open.

“Can you come just from my fingers, dollface?”

“No, I need you.”

A rumble of thunder fills a pause before he asks, “Need me? How.”

“Fucking me,” you rasp. “Please.”

“I didn’t think you could be so polite.”

“Like you’ve had great manners,” you grit.

He snickers and removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth again. Your thighs shake, pussy throbbing, desperate to be filled again.

After he finishes tasting you, he locates the condom and tears it open while you take the time to rise on your knees, hands on the back of his head, kissing and licking along his neck, under his jaw, over the small hoops in his ear. He hums and leans into the marks you make on the column of his throat, arm flinging to the side to dispose of the wrapper before one hand goes to your hip, the other to the back of your neck, tugging you down to lock his mouth with yours.

Slowly sinking into his lap, you grind over his protected length that bobs in response. Lips locked, you reach between your legs to grab his dick, moving the head to gather up your slick, and when that’s not enough, you retract your hand to spit in it and jerk his shaft to lube up the rest of him. He hums deeply in approval, tilting towards you and leaning back on his hand as you slowly guide him in.

He breaks the kiss and your skin prickles with the sensation of his eyes roving up and down your naked form, palm coasting down your side to your back and ass. Breathing shakily, your nerves freeze from the pressure of it all.

“Gotta relax, baby.” His sultry tone lodges a pathetic moan in your throat.

“I am, you’re just fucking big,” you snap and he chuckles, massaging and kissing over your breast.

“You took me just fine before.”

“I was desperate.” You hiss as his teeth tease your nipple.

“Mmm. And now you want to take your time? Don’t stroke my ego too much.”

“You’re right, it’ll get as big as your head and no one wants that.” He smacks the side of your tit in retaliation and you yelp at the sting, but a dirty tingle in your gut wants him to do it again.

“Annoying fucking brat.”

“You weren’t saying that when you were fucking my face just now.”

“Because your big mouth was full and you couldn’t talk back. It was actually kind of nice.”

Keeping your head down, you take a deep breath to try and calm your racing pulse, but you can still feel him checking out your naked form, hand smoothing over your waist. You want to do this, but you can’t relax.

“Can you maybe just… not look at me?” you request quietly, pressing your fingers into his shoulders to pass over some of your stress.

“Why? Am I making you nervous?” Heart thudding at his teasing tone, you clap a palm over his mouth and push him away to get him out of your face. He falls back against the headboard with a harmless laugh, both hands resting on your thighs.

“What are you- oh,” he says as you unmount him, only to turn around to sit over his lap, knees on the inside of his legs, breathing freely now that you’re not facing him. You adjust your stance with your feet wiggling under his thighs, and he lays flat on his back, head of his cock landing on the center of your ass and with a small moan, you lift up so he can prod your entrance but not push any further, seemingly waiting for you to take the lead. Finally out of your head, you feel a little less pressure and sink back onto him.

As you completely sheathe him and find your bearings, basking in the fullness, the soft murmur that comes from behind you flings your pulse into a frenzy.

“I meant what I said earlier. You’re beautiful.”

And just like that, his simple assurance, which you (for once) believe whole-heartedly, gives you confidence. You start out slow and hesitant, this position not one you’re wholly experienced with, but one that takes some of the performance pressure off. Fighting for breath, you arch your back, and receive a small hiss in response, and then, a growl. 

“Lean forward a bit,” he encourages, palm pressing on your lower back and your nerves tremor at the tender velvet in his tone. Accepting his guidance, you let out a wanton moan as your adjusted posture allows him to fill every inch of you at a delicious angle.

It takes a second to find your rhythm, what movements and angles give you the most pleasure, silently grateful for his hands on your ass supporting you.

“Yeah, use me,” he grunts, a harsh swat and grope of his hand on your ass sending a pleased yelp to the ceiling. “My good fuckin’ slut.”

You stutter out a whimper, the possessive term something you could get dangerously hooked on, despite doubting that he means it literally. He’s just caught up in the moment.

Right?

Grinding back on him, slick sounds of his hard cock sliding in and out of every inch of your core mix with his gratified purrs.

“Damn, this pussy is driving me crazy.”

“Good.” He huffs and swats your ass.

“Brat. Where’s my bandana?”

“You want me to go get it?”

“Nah. Stay right here.”

Lightning flashes, and the soft murmur of his words sends a shiver down your spine just as thunder cracks. You watch the windows in front of you rattle with nature’s vibrations and for a moment as you roll and bounce on him in a sloppy rhythm, you focus on the tempest whirling around outside, blackening the ocean, dark waves smashing up on the stone wall near where you were just sitting on Yoongi’s lap as he smoked.

But then he starts muttering soft praises and pleased hums, hand never straying from your ass, and your mind goes blank as you focus on your motions to evoke more of his enticing sounds.

Thighs starting to ache at the exertion, you find purchase with your fists on the mattress between his legs and arch forward, jaw dropping in a gasp when his cock hits a spot so deep inside you that you see infinite, sparkling galaxies behind your closed eyes. Riding through the strain, you whimper in ecstasy as he moans behind you, kneading your ass in continuous support of your riding.

Ultimately, your muscles give out in exhaustion, so you groan and tip forward, fingers finding his ankles as you stop to catch your breath and he grabs onto your waist to hold you in place.

“You alright?”

“I’m tired.”

“Had enough?” You shake your head.

“Good. I’m not done with you.” His promise is gruff as he pushes you off and handles you to the head of the mattress, stuffing pillows under your head before standing on his knees outside of your legs, forcing your ass into the air with a firm grip on your hips. Adjusting one of the pillows to comfortably prop yourself up, you use it to muffle a moan when he lazily slaps your clit with his cockhead, circling it a few times before gliding to your fluttering hole.

Hand pressing down on your spine, he rolls into you, easily finding that patch of nerves and slowly hitting it with steady thrusts. You bury a prolonged moan into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut in a telepathic prayer, thanking the universe for throwing this dangerous man in your life when you least expected but needed him most.

You’re not alone now.

And then he fills you to the brim, making you whimper as he starts fucking you at a languid pace, completely contrary to the ardent rhythm he set in the closet, so you take it with pleased moans. But at some point you find yourself moving on your own accord, wiggling and grinding your hips to meet his thrusts, desperate to bring out that demon in him.

“You keep trying to take over, dollface,” he muses, letting go of your hips completely when you don’t stop rocking back on him. “Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you were tired.”

“Maybe I want you to go harder.”

He hums, smoothing both palms over your ass to your lower back.

“If you want something, you could try that polite thing again.”

You suck in a deep breath. “Fuck me harder. Please.”

“Please, what?” he grits.

“Please, Yoongi!”

He chuckles and then slams into you, sending your conscience to travel in another plane of existence, fucking you until you’re so far gone, you don’t even realize you’ve been chanting his name like a song you never want to stop singing.

“Not gonna lie, though. I hate you for winning my money, Angel,” he grumbles, bringing you back down to earth. “Fuckin’ hustler.”

“Is that why you really came back?” you taunt out in between moans. “So I could make it up to you?”

He suddenly stops and roughly yanks you up by your shoulder, handful of your tit, pinning your back to his chest.

“You made it up to me in that closet,” he tells you thunderously. Another bolt of lightning brightens the room for a split second, a boom from the sky responding loudly a few seconds later. But you barely notice over the blood storming in your ears as

“I came back because I can’t get you out of my head. Happy?” He says it like you shouldn’t be, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Are you admitting that you like me?”

“I’m not fucking admitting anything,” he snarls, distracting you from the scorn in his tone with his fierce re-entrance, snapping into you and picking up his unwavering pace.

Dare you say impassioned?

The echoes of squelching matches the smacks of skin as he pounds into you relentlessly, cock plunging deep and rigorous, and you start to lose your mind when his balls roughly slap your clit.

He angles against your spot and keeps his momentum there, the fire in your belly growing hotter, tightening your muscles, heightening your whines, jellifying your mind.

“You gonna come again for me, hm?” he coos in a cocksure timbre.

Smug bastard, you say to yourself, not realizing you’ve spoken out loud until he delivers another smack to your ass with a low chuckle.

Grabbing your hip, he lowers himself on top of you, chest pressed into your back, sinking you further into the mattress. Mewling as you’re heated and weighed down by his flushed skin, he curves his arm around your head so your face is nestled in the crook of his elbow, driving into you at a fast, consistent pace.

“Yoongi!” you wail, breath collapsing as he fucks you to your peak. “Don’t stop! Please, I’m-“

The words catch in your throat as your climax approaches, and he reaches under to stroke your clit, the muscles on his bicep flexes just as he growls right in your ear, “Come.” 

The simple word muttered in his low, lusty tone is the final push to the edge of a tsunami-esque wave of pleasure, mouth hanging open soundlessly. For once you’re speechless, like the force of your orgasm depleted all the brain waves responsible for forming cohesive sentences or even thoughts. His mouth sucks hard on the back of your shoulder, rolling his hips at a sharp pace so he can drag his dick through every inch of your core. He hits you deep over and over and over as you pulse, violent and overpowering, and you feel the need to scream. The only way to muffle yourself is by biting something and the closest thing is his bicep. So you scrape your teeth on his bulging muscle, and he groans, grabbing your ass as his elbow tightens a pinch more around your head.

“Harder,” he demands in a growl, and you obey, clamping down. The divots you’re leaving in his skin are enough to nearly draw blood, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he ruts into you.

In fact, you think it’s spurring him on.

He slides up, tags on the back of your neck, clenching the sheets beside your head and burying his face in your neck as he uses the support of his thighs to ruck into you with thorough, earnest thrusts. Is he trying to split you in half?

In the midst of your spiral, your heart palpitates upon just barely hearing him whisper with lips and chains weighing on your skin,

“Fuck have you done to me?”

You shudder. You could ask him the same question.

And then he pulls out of you, lifting up so an onslaught of slightly chilled air encompasses you. You don’t have time or the mind capacity to object before his hands on your waist roll you onto your back and, bleary eyed, you gawk up at his pallid features blurred by the darkness - his broad chest heaving, biceps flexing, wet bangs and long chains dangling in the air.

His fingers brush up your sides, trailing over your arm, across your clavicles, setting you on fire, skin prickling with sweat and electricity. He ducks his head to kiss down your neck, lick over your nipples, in between your breasts.

Oh, god. Can he feel how fast your heart is pounding? It’s not just from the aftermath of your orgasm.

He continues his descent and on his knees hunches over, fingers digging into your ass to tip up your hips. Your back arches with a pitiful moan when he ravenously slurps at your cunt, drinking in your cum and humming as he swallows. At this rate, he’ll make you shatter into pieces and you don’t think you can handle it.

So you weakly wrench his hand from your hip, and he sets you down, pulse faltering when he slips back inside you before falling forward to hover above you, one hand on the headboard.

He shifts to fuck into you so deep, and when you reach up to tangle your fingers in the links, he drops his arm from the headboard, caging you in.

Getting high off the sounds of him breathing heavily and moaning softly, head ducked to watch his hips clap against yours, you slide your hands up and down his torso, brows pinching when you coast over more areas of raised and jagged skin; some long and linear, others small and circular like the one by his clavicle. So many violent scars on his ribs, his chest, his back.

Just like you expected.

And at that, unexpected tears prick the corners of your eyes. Soon the sides of your face flood, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down so you can hide the streaks in his neck, biting your lip in a poor attempt to stop your cries.

A few intense thrusts in, you moan, but a small whimper followed by a sniffle slips out, and his hips roll to a stop and pull halfway out before lifting himself to plank above you. You shut your eyes to avoid his stare, more tears squeezing out.

“Hey, you crying?” he asks this gently, no judgement in his hushed tone. Concern? Maybe. Care? …

“I’m fine.” The croak in your voice betrays you.

“We can stop.”

“No, it’s-” you scramble for anything but the real reason you’re shedding tears for him. “I’m glad you came back. And not just for this.”

He doesn’t say anything and you don’t expect him to. Although you want nothing more than to know what he’s thinking about you, about what you just said, about the fact that you’re laid up beneath him fucking crying, you’re content with the fact that he’s just still here.

“I get scared thinking about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

Okay, that’s real. You doubt that the symbol on your neck would’ve deterred those men from getting what they wanted when you’re so far from home.

“Hmm, girl like you can fight, no?”

“You maybe,” you quip with a sniff. He chuckles, breath and tips of his bangs brushing your forehead. “But not all those guys at once.”

“Well, then I guess you’re lucky I found you just in time,” he says, voice soft and small.

“And you’re lucky I’m letting you stay here for free.”

“So, we’re even.”

“Not yet.”

Fisting his hair, you tug him into a searing kiss, free hand sneaking to his ass, eliciting him to moan over your tongue and move again.

Legs bent next to his waist, your nails rake up and down his back, scratching harder when he grunts and increases his rhythm, face dipping to pant against your throat.

“Where can I come?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you wheeze, and he growls, sucking a sloppy bruise under your ear.

Your teeth end up on his shoulder, and you bite like you did before, hardly anticipating the sharp hiss that he sucks in as he surges forward, balls deep, spilling heavily into the condom.

“Mm, Angel,” he moans, staying in a spot deep inside you that sucks him in tighter as he comes, hard and drawn-out, dick pulsing wildly in place, purring for an entire low and long exhale.

“Shit, I meant to-” He starts pulling out and you curl a hand over the side of his neck.

“It’s fine.” You make a mental note to get a pill first thing after you wake up.

“You just-”

“What?” But he shakes his head.

Softening inside you, he starts to pull out, but a spike of panic has your knees pressing against his sides, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him in place.

You don’t want him to leave at all.

“No, stay,” you whisper, scared that as soon as this moment is gone, everything will be over. “Just for a minute.”

Silence permeates the air, and more panic joins the energy wearing off in your veins as you fear you just messed everything up. When he pulls out, apologies tumble from your lips, but he just shifts you onto your side, settles behind with a hand on your lower back, skin a buzz away, and gently pushes back into you, arm passing above your head.

“A minute.”

Eyes closing at the feeling of being so full, and not just from what’s in between your legs, your hand finds its way into his palm. His wrist bends but his fingers don’t curl over yours when you tangle them together. You take a deep inhale to try and calm your pounding heart, hoping he can’t tell just how much you’re overwhelmed by this moment.

By him staying so close, not leaving, not pushing you away, despite how fucking intimate this is.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk to you, Angel.”

“So he can apologize.” Teeth graze your earlobe and you only giggle, but your chest swells with gratitude.

“Well, I’m sorry I hustled you.”

“No, you’re not.” You don’t deny that.

“Then I’m sorry I made trouble for you by winning all of their money and not thinking that they’d come after me.”

You turn your head in an attempt to look at him over your shoulder and despite the darkness, you can feel his dark eyes piercing into yours.

“You weren’t under any obligation to help me, and the fact that you did anyway is why I opened the door.”

Rain playing in the background, your heart pounds when you’re unable to break this stare, a newfound tension growing that ignites once he captures you in a chaste kiss. You relax into it, ignoring the strain in your neck so you can soak in all of these unspoken feelings the two of you are passing over your tongues. He breaks it with a small pop, lips dragging across your cheek and you turn away, unable to quell the whizzing in your chest.

A moment later, his fingertips press ever so lightly over your knuckles, his mouth pressing to your shoulder and an involuntary smile appears on your face that you’re glad he can’t see.

“We can’t fall asleep like this, dollface,” he mumbles after a short while, voice worn and thick in his throat.

You want to protest, but you’re sure you’ll sound pathetic, not in your right mind. Biting your tongue, he gently pushes at your waist and slips out and both of you moan at the loss.

Your bottom lip juts in a deep pout when he climbs off the bed and shuffles away to the bathroom, the snap of the condom coming off accompanying him.

When the door closes, you roll onto your stomach to plunge your head under the pillows, floating back down to earth and into reality -  that you just slept with a stranger and it was the best goddamn sex of your life. You want to scream into the bedding to release all of these emotions mounting inside of you, ones that you could define if you weren’t so afraid of them.

After a minute or a century, the edge of the mattress dips and the pillow lifts from your head but you bury your face further into the sheets.

“Oh, good, you didn’t die this time either,” he teases, the humor in his tone at your expense making you never want to roll over.

“Fucked you quiet, huh? Finally.” You shove your middle finger back in his face because that’s the only part of you that can move at the moment and he pushes it away with a laugh. A gentle tug on your elbow forces you onto your side and you begrudgingly take in the cool air stenched with sex. Room still swathed in darkness, you’re unable to see how he’s looking at you but at least notice that he’s once again covered by the robe.

“You should get up.”

“Already bossing me around?”

“Fine, get a UTI for all I care.” You scoff as he stands, raising yourself up with your arms crossed over your chest. You’ve barely moved but your ass is already so fucking sore. You’re gonna pay for that when you have to hop back on a long flight later.

“I’ll just bill you, then,” you mumble as you start to walk past him, gait uneven, whipping around with a squeak when he lands a lazy palm on your bare ass.

“Yeah, okay. Get your pretty ass in the bathroom.”

You flip him off before swiveling around and scurrying away. The light flickers on and heat inundates your cheeks when you just bet he did that to stare at your behind while you walk away.

After cleaning yourself up, you spot the sweater he hung up on the doorknob, now completely dry, not thinking twice about grabbing it to slip on. Finders keepers. It’s so soft and it smells just like him and you want to sleep in it forever and…

Damn girl, you need to reel it back - you just met the fucking guy. It’s barely been twelve hours.

He’s back at the table with his phone plugged in again, staring at it with a frown.

“Still no deposit?”

He shakes his head, glancing up with his brows furrowed and one cocks as you pass by him for the mini fridge.

“Uh, what are you wearing?” You shrug nonchalantly.

“A sweater I found.”

“I’m getting it back.”

“We’ll see.”

He scowls at your cheeky smile, reluctantly accepting the water bottle you pass him. Spotting the remote by the outlet, you reach over him to grab it, switching on the TV hung up in the corner of the room across from the bed and then giving him the control.

He regards you hesitantly before taking it. As you sit down across from him, rooting through the snacks you bought and passing them out between you, he flips through the channels.

In the background, the news plays, and as you start eating, the reporter starts giving updates about the weather.

“Storm’s letting up in the afternoon,” Yoongi announces softly, picking up a snack, the pitter-patter of rain hitting the windows behind him.

Mid-chew, you glance over your shoulder to the forecast displayed on the screen, predicting a decrease in precipitation over the next few hours.

“Hm. So I’ll be able to fly out then.” The words turn sour in your mouth as you focus back on your food, and his next question turns your thoughts grey.

“Going home?”

“No,” you sigh, picking at the wrapper. “My brother would be pissed if I popped up out of nowhere. And I’ve already skipped two classes anyway, so.“

He tisks, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I slept with someone who plays hooky.”

His growing smirk gets smacked with your balled up wrapper.

“Didn’t you literally stab a guy?”

“Touche.”

You match his playful smile and go back to eating and listening to the news in comfortable silence.

Exhaustion seeping into your bones, you think about how slowly it’s killing you how much you’re coming to like him. Even more so that you’re struggling to find the confidence to tell him. Because you two are about to part ways - who knows if this is meant to be more than a one night stand.

“Here,” you say, taking out the box of condoms and tossing it at him. “Restock your wallet.”

He peers at you curiously but doesn’t touch it at first, just what you were hoping for.

You can’t stop the disappointed frown when he ultimately reaches into the box and takes out a few square foils.

“I hope your next fuck treats you to something better than a moldy closet.”

Oh. So then he’s not expecting this to last. Not what you were hoping for.

“Well, I hope your next fuck sends you into crippling debt,” you sneer and he gazes at you with a diminished light in his eyes that you hold with a lasered glare.

You get up, chair loudly scraping the floor, and snatch the wrappers from your side and his to furiously throw them away. You know this reaction is strange and out of character, feeling so rejected when you’re accustomed to one night stands. But something about this man - you can’t help it. And it’s really not fair.

That pisses you off even more.

You storm in and out of the bathroom to aggressively brush your teeth, and then head for the bed, heart jumping when he’s standing right there in the small hallway. A hand around your elbow stops you from passing him in your path of fury and you twist to face him with a hard-set expression, not expecting his unsure frown.

“You’re flying out.”

“And?” you snap.

“And I don’t stay,” he states firmly, letting go of your arm. “Much less date.” (That word shouldn’t make your heart flutter like it does.)

You exhale a short, calmer breath, resolve softening. “You’re staying now.”

You wait for him to say that it’s because it’s still raining. But he doesn’t - eyes just darting between yours, frantically, like he’s looking for something. Your heart races because you don’t know what he’s expecting to find.

“Well, if you don’t want to exchange phone numbers, we could write letters or something,” you half-joke, knot in your gut unraveling.

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow. “And how would that work? I move around a lot.”

“Hm. So do I.”

His jaw clenches as bows his head, pressing three fingers into his eyes, and then offers you his palm, expression flat and begrudging.

“Give me your phone.”

It’s hard to not let the excitement show in your smile, but your cheeks beam with a radiating heat as you scramble around to snatch your phone out of your discarded hoodie, practically shoving it into his hands after you unlock it.

Your nerves vibrate and a smile dances on your lips as you watch him type in his number, eyes downcast when he passes over your device displaying his newfound digits.

“Does this mean you like me?”

“No,” he gruffs, frowning, and your eyes roll at his stubbornness.

“Whatever. I don’t like you either,” you lie.

“Then why do you want my number?”

“So I can bother you from a different time zone.” He lunges for your phone.

“Delete it right now.”

“No! Too late!” You hold your device high in the air but don’t back down from his advance.

“Angel, I swear-“

“What are you gonna do about it?” His eyes narrow at your challenge, lips pulling into a line when he glances down at yours.

As you turn to walk away, he grabs your shirt by your waist, yanking you towards him and into a kiss, one that has butterflies spinning throughout your chest, limbs melting like butter. Until you feel his fingers slither over your wrist and attempt to pull your phone out of your grasp, lips lingering on yours, do you lean away when you realize he kissed you as a ploy.

“Nice try.” He glares at you and, smirking, you kiss him again. He scowls when you pull away with a grin and turn back around to crawl into bed. As you get comfortable under the covers, news reporters covering some more about the storm, you watch him collect his shirt from the floor and frown at it still being wet. You almost take off his sweater and give it back but you’re so damn comfortable and warm in it that you can’t help but be selfish.

“I have a shirt you can wear,” you offer a little shyly. “You mind handing me my duffle?”

When he nods after a slight pause, he picks it up and sets it on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to dig through and pull out one of your favorite graphic tees. He takes it with a quirk of his brow, staring at the design on the front and you don’t care if he’s judging.

“I’d rather just wear my sweater.”

“I’m wearing it.” Duh. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the graphics.

“Well, you’re definitely getting this back.” You snort and tell him to hurry up so you can go to bed. You pay him no mind as he trudges away muttering something under his breath. You grab one last thing from the bag, making him turn around with a tap on his elbow.

“Here’s an extra toothbrush. Toothpaste is on the sink.”

He doesn’t look at you as he takes it, murmuring a quiet “Thanks,” and then disappearing into the bathroom.

When he returns, you peer over the headboard to see he’s wearing your shirt, long enough to fall past his waist, partially covering his boxers, and you almost squeal in delight.

“That looks cute on you,” you say as he shuffles towards the table, voice cracking with the threat of laughter, barreling out when he grits “Shut up” and flips you off.

“What? It does!”

He shakes his head in denial and reaches for his phone again, probably checking for his deposit, and with a silly idea, you grab yours to type out a message.

night cutie sent 5:03am

After it sends, you stare at him as his phone buzzes and he picks it up, biting your tongue when he quickly sets it back face down. 

“I could block you,” he grumbles as he stands beside the bed, hands on his hips.

“Just like you could’ve pushed me out of the closet? Or like I could make you sleep on the floor?”

His head tilts. “Actually, that might be better for my back.”

“Go right ahead, old man.”

He grimaces and picks up a pillow to land it in your face. Holding it against your chest, you fall back with a giggle.

“C’mon,” you say, patting the bedding beside you. “I don’t bite.”

His eyes narrow, holding out his right arm to present the deep set marks from your teeth in the skin just above his elbow. Your eyes widen in delight. “This begs to differ.”

Rising on your knees, you crawl to him, peering up with a sly smile when he doesn’t resist as you reach for his arm.

“It might bruise.” He shrugs and you tilt your head, analyzing it and experimentally pressing the pad of your thumb against the divots, and he shifts. You blink up to his hooded eyes, the subtle tongue flick on his bottom lip.

“You like that?” you tease, smirking at his lack of denial. “Hm, I got a little masochist on my hands.”

Continuing to press over the marks, you bat mischievous lashes.

“Don’t start, I’m beat,” he says, moving his arm back.

“Aww, is it past your bedtime?”

“That’s getting old.”

“Yeah, like you.” He sighs in exasperation.

“You walked right into that one,” you giggle.

“Just scoot over,” he mutters, shooing you away as he takes the covers you offer and lifts a knee onto the mattress.

“I thought the floor was better for your back.”

“I’m not sleeping on that nasty ass floor.”

You blow a raspberry, heart skipping a beat as you side-eye him situating himself next to you, leaving a significant amount of space between you that you pretend you’re not disappointed by.

“So are you stuck here for the time being?” you find yourself inquiring through a yawn as you turn your attention to the TV.

He sighs, adjusting the pillow under his head. “Until I get paid enough for a plane ticket.”

You stare at his side profile for a moment, debating whether or not you should offer to pay for his ticket, but decide against it, figuring he would say no again.

“You’re welcome to stay here until then,” you pose gently, not taking it to heart when he just gives you a side glance and a single nod.

For a moment, you pensively chew the inside of your cheek.

“Maybe you can drop me off at the airport?”

His eyebrows lift, a mild uptick on the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe.” A blip in your heart conjures up a smile.

“‘Ppreciate it.”

“Mm,” he hums indifferently, turning his head to roll his shoulders and crack his neck.

After turning off the TV and pulling the covers up, your body is drawn to his warmth and you shimmy your way towards him. But just as your head hits his shoulder, he leans away, and you do the same, like you’ve suddenly become magnets of the same polarity. Glancing up to his side eye and clenched jaw, you realize your small action showcasing your desire to be close crossed a boundary of something he’s not comfortable with. You respect it, but you can’t deny that it hurts a little.

“I don’t do that,” he says, no malice in his tone, like he’s just stating a fact.

“Okay,” you murmur, shifting to your side of the bed with guilt crawling through you. “I’m sorry. Night.”

A tiny tug in your chest, you turn on your side, back facing him, and settle into the sheets, closing your eyes and focusing on the rain softly hitting the windows to help lure yourself to sleep.

Just as you’re about to drift off, your eyes fly open as his weight dips behind you, a tentative hand on the dip of your waist, elbow nudging the back of your head. His legs brush behind yours and you don’t react, as if any sudden movement will scare him away. But your heart runs like the wind.

“This is your imagination. Got it?”

Huffing, your smile turns into a grin as you cheekily wiggle back so your body slots ever so lightly against his, ass barely touching his pelvis.

“Since it’s my imagination, I can do this?” you probe, poking your toes between his legs to slide your calves together. He hisses and kicks his feet back.

“Not when your feet are freezing!”

You giggle and he pushes at your hip but doesn’t move away. Finally, he settles and you close your eyes, wishing your heart to not go into overdrive.

“I meant to thank you,” you whisper, disrupting the tranquility. “For everything.” A soft exhale flutters over your scalp. “And I ho-” And then his palm flies up to cover your mouth. 

“Please go to sleep.”

Bringing his arm down to curl over your middle, you expect him to move it as you nuzzle into the pillow and close your eyes once again, his face plastered in your mind as you finally succumb to sleep.

His arm pulls you just a bit closer.

When Yoongi wakes up with your head next to his shoulder, it’s light out and you’re fast asleep. You’re stunning, even in slumber. He's exhausted, mostly physically, but the sleep he managed wasn't interrupted by terrors inside his mind or out. For once.

Reaching under his pillow, he panics for a second when his gun isn’t there. Oh, right. He left it in the bushes by the bike. He did well to hide it on him in places you wouldn’t find it, thanks to his quick hands and quicker thinking. He had it tucked in the back of his waistband when he found you in that restaurant, and if he hadn’t gotten a hold of those chopsticks, last night would’ve ended a lot differently. You don’t deserve to see something like that. Something he’s seen and committed countless times - but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. It’ll ruin this whole thing.

He does his best not to disturb you as he maneuvers out of bed, checking his phone first, noting that it’s almost noon. He shakes his head - it’s been a while since he’s slept in like this but you two were up very late last night after all. And you wore him the hell out.

He frowns when there’s no notification of his deposit, just a text from Lin telling him to call, and sighs, gently places his phone back down. He’ll deal with that later.

In the bathroom, he waits until he’s started the shower to turn the lights on, ignoring his reflection as he takes off your shirt and then his delicate, most treasured silver chain, placing it on the corner of the sink to avoid any drains, dog tags swinging on his chest as he steps into the stall.

The warm water gloriously cascading down his chest, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This is something else he’s not accustomed to - showering in the same place where he hooked up with someone. Especially for a second time. He wasn’t lying when he said he’s not the type to stay the night. But it’s different with you. With you, he feels… safe. Like he doesn’t have to run. It’s an odd relief.

Grabbing soap and a cloth, he starts lathering his body, and when he passes over the teeth marks you left on his bicep, his head tilts back with a moan at the slight sting. Propping his hand on the wall, he stares at the nasty bruise blooming on his arm, a smile curling his lips at the memory of your teeth sinking into his skin while you came hard around his cock. He wishes you’d bitten harder. A lot harder. He wouldn’t mind having a scar from that. He’s not sure what that says about him.

He likes the way it hurt, likes it even more that you caught on, paid attention to and cared about what he liked, dragged your teeth along his clavicle, biting sharply into it to drive him to the hardest-hitting orgasm he’s had in a long time. His dick stirs to life thinking about you mouthing and nipping all over his body, making marks on his hip bones, and he craves the opportunity to bury deep in your cunt again and stay there.

There’s a strange tightness in his chest when he thinks about how you’ve made him feel since the moment he fucked you in that closet. Maybe even before that. Maybe when you shoved in his face how much better you are than him at poker. Maybe when you walked into that dingy room with an air of confidence he didn’t expect.

Pretty. Alluring. Badass. Fearless.

Irresistible.

His heart hasn’t raced for someone like this in… well, he can’t remember.

He hangs his head, water dripping down the back of his neck, pouring off of his chin and ends of his hair and he watches it all swirl down the drain.

He needs to get it the fuck together.

As he starts rinsing off, his phone suddenly blares, loud and shrill, and he scrambles out of the shower, haphazardly throwing a towel on his waist, darting out to grab his device from the table.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when he sees you squirming under the sheets, pillow punched over your head to drown out the noise. He squints at the caller ID and his stomach drops, so he quickly answers, whispers “Hang on” into the speaker, and picks up his boxers and robe that you wore on the way to the door, peeking over his shoulder to where you’re settling back into sleep.

“Hello? Suga, you there?” the voice on the other line asks. His friend, Lin, one of the few people he actually trusts, rarely ever calls with good news.

“One sec,” Yoongi mutters as he balances his phone between his cheek and shoulder, dropping the towel and yanking on his boxers. He swings on the robe before propping open the door with his sneaker, peering through the crack to make sure you haven’t gotten up and followed him.

“I don’t have all day, man.”

“What’s up?” he asks, jogging down the stairs in his bare feet. The stone pavement is wet and cold. It smells like more rain.

“You need to get your ass back here because Axe is livid about the deal. He’s blaming you and if you don’t come and fix it, he’s gonna make you pay with your life.”

A cloud fills Yoongi’s lungs. He can’t die. Not yet.

“Is my deposit coming through?” 

Lin laughs. “If he’s not cutting our checks, he’s definitely not cutting yours.” Yoongi really, really wants to punch his friend in the nuts for laughing at a time like this.

“I don’t have any fucking money for a plane ticket,” he whisper yells, glancing around to make sure no one is around.

“That’s your problem. You gotta find a way back ‘cause he’s got thugs in Jeju that’ll take care of you for him.”

A stressed hand flies to his hair, fingers tangling and tugging like that’ll make him think of a solution.

“You’re also supposed to be in charge of handling that shipment coming through. Don’t miss it or you’ll really be dead.”

“I won’t,” he promises through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I hope so.”

The call drops and Yoongi almost throws his phone to crack on the concrete, but he has one more shot at not being totally screwed. He dials another number, eyes closing in relief when it picks up on the fourth ring.

“It’s a little early to be calling,” the familiar male voice chirps. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey, I’m sorry, but do you think- would you mind wiring me an advance? Please?” Fuck, he’s never been one to beg. It’s pathetic. “I’m kind of in a spot right now and my deal in Jeju fell through so I’m not getting any money any time soon. I hate to ask but-”

“Why don’t you have any money?” Shame. Guilt consumes him.

“I lost it gambling.”

“I see.” There’s a pause and Yoongi holds his breath, thinking he just flushed his whole life down the drain. Oxygen whooshes out of his chest when the man he will eventually owe his life to continues.

“Well, you can’t play away all of your money like this, understand? I won’t tolerate having my funds being used to get yourself out of situations that you shouldn’t be in in the first place, especially when you haven’t earned it yet. I’ll let it slide this time but if it happens again, then you’re out. I won’t be able to help.”

He nods solemnly. “I understand.”

“Good. I can’t wire any until tomorrow, but you’ll receive a decent amount to get you through until your next job, okay?”

Fucking shit. He can’t wait that long. He wants to ask if there’s any way he can get enough now for a plane ticket home, but he can’t risk getting out of the good graces of Don Kim’s son.

“Yeah, thank you. And again, I’m sorry.”

“I know. Actually, this might be a way to make up for some of it. My brother isn’t doing so well, and I have to go out of town for a while soon; do you think you can check in on him while I’m gone? I’ve been trying to get him back into boxing and I know he enjoyed doing that with you.”

“Sure. I have some stuff to take care of first though. I’ll head up in the next couple of weeks?”

After he does some damage control and manages a risky deal without ending up dead or in prison, he’ll play babysitter if it means he can keep his secret other job. And his livelihood. Sol may be a troubled kid, but he’s generally easy to get along with. Sometimes when he’s in his better moods, he makes Yoongi think of that kid back home. The kid he’s doing this whole can’t-die-yet thing for.

“Okay, great. Have you gotten anything on Axe that I can use?”

Yoongi looks around again, squats next to a wall and cups his mouth to muffle himself. “He’s planning to intercept a shipment trucking out of Incheon and I think it’s coming from one of your suppliers. You might have a mole.” Oh, the irony.

“Hm, interesting. I just caught a cop working undercover in the harbor, so he’ll have some intel if he knows what’s good for him. Keep me posted.” “I will.”

“And hang in there a little longer, D. We’ll get you out.” God, he hopes so. Yoongi knows these things take time, it’s less dangerous that way, but he’s been trying to get out of this game for years. Well, out of one and into another, but at least this time he’ll have a little more security.

He has to figure out how to scrape his way back home. He slinks back inside while trying to come up with lies and excuses to weasel his way out of this, but it’s hard to come up with ones convincing enough because in the short time that he’s known you, he’s learned you’re smart enough to see right through his bullshit.

He looks over to your bag sitting on the floor, remembering the wallet you stuffed all of your cash in.

Fuck.

He could ask you to spot him enough to get on a plane, but after all the times he adamantly denied it when you offered to give him some back, never anticipating that he wouldn’t get paid, he knows you’ll ask questions that he won’t be able to answer.

He could also just… take some cash and dip out before you wake up. But he really doesn’t want to do that. Doesn’t want to become the person he tried to hide from you. Even though you figured out that he’s a dealer with a habit for getting himself into dangerous situations, you didn’t completely write him off, giving him a chance to show you he’s not entirely a bad person.

But he is. And he’s far, far worse.

He considers it - coming clean to you about everything. Well, at least the part about him being in a tough situation and if he doesn’t make his way back soon, he might as well be dead. He thinks you’ll understand, having gathered that you know about his side of the world, experienced some of it - whether through friends or boyfriends or whomever. Does he think you’re better than that, better than him? Yes. You’ve got shit going for you, more than he’ll ever have. You don’t need someone like him dragging you down. Even though he wants to see you again, wants to run someplace far away with you, he knows he can’t. You deserve a life where you’ll make something of yourself. One that you won’t get with him. But he thinks he can spend just a little more time with you, at least until you have to go to the airport. He’ll take you there, maybe kiss you one last time, and pretend that his heart won’t sink when you turn your back on him. He’s used to being the one to leave. So it hurts like hell to be on the other side.

Maybe that’s just because of you.

He’s conflicted as he returns to where you’re still sleeping. A little of the cloudy afternoon sky has made the room a light gray and despite the regret churning in his gut, he catches himself smiling when he hears you snoring softly. He wants to kiss you again, wonders if he can brush his lips over yours, imagines what you’ll look like waking up to him.

Just as he turns to change, you shift onto your stomach, head still under the pillow, and a small etching on the back of your neck right below your hairline catches his attention. He has yet to put in his contacts, so he carefully sits on the edge of the bed to have a better look, curiosity piqued.

The ink has the shape of something with wings, so he leans a little closer, pressing a fist on the mattress to hold himself up. He expects the wings to be that of an angel, a nod to your name, but when he finally sees what it is, albeit a bit blurry, his heart freezes and plummets to the floor.

It’s a bird, but not one he expected to see on your skin.

A crow.

And it's drawn as if it were flying high in the sky, talons digging into an upside-down human skull.

How did he miss that?! That’s what he gets for always fucking in the dark.

To anyone else, its meaning is ambiguous, edgy, but to him, to others like him, it's the symbol of a direct relation to the family of enormous power, made by generations of blood, money and greed. He would know - he has a tattoo on his back (a tiger, clawing at his shoulder blade) belonging to the gang he got caught up in as a teenager that branded him to force his loyalty. A gang that will be shredded and not missed by the organization that owns the symbol tatted on your neck.

Holy shit. He might throw up. He just fucked the daughter of the country’s mafia kingpin, the sister of the man he was just on the phone with, the one you were probably talking to earlier. If Atlas doesn’t want his mole playing around with his money, he damn sure wouldn’t want him playing around with his sister. If that man found out all that he did with you, Yoongi would die a slow and gruesome death, he’s sure of it.

There’s no way he’d make it out alive. And Yoongi has promises he needs to keep. He can’t do that if he’s sleeping with the fishes.

His stomach clenches, though, thinking about what your reaction will be when you wake up and he’s gone, leaving you with nothing but his sweater.

Because he knows how you looked at him throughout the night, like you felt something for him, like you might want something more than sex. And you not knowing all of his sins, or that there’s nothing he can really offer you, made him feel like he was good enough for you to let him in like you did, to touch you, kiss you, fuck you, just… be with you. In a normal way. Where you weren’t expecting drugs and/or money at the end of it.

With your wit and your charm and your smart goddamn mouth, you managed to knock down a wall that dismantled his normal cold exterior, penetrating a part of him that he’s had to lock away.

(It’s scary how easily you did that. And Min Yoongi doesn’t get scared. Not for himself).

You turned his world upside down in less than a day. For most of his life, he’s been living on the dark side of the moon, but with you, he got to see the sun for a little while. Sharing a meal, staying the night, giving you his number, fucking cuddling with you. You offering him your spare toothbrush when he didn't ask for one. How you got him to do something normal is beyond him. He doesn’t do that because he’s never deserved it.

So who is he kidding?

Because at the end of the day, for someone like him, good things never last. He’s sinful and marred. He’s been to prison, for fucks’ sake. That bike he came to your rescue with, drove you around on - he stole it. Saw the man who parked it, pretended to bump into him, and managed to slip the keys out of his pocket. Granted, you being the reason behind losing all of his money kind of fucked his opportunity for getting around town in an honest, law-abiding way, but he can’t blame you. He severely underestimated you and paid for it. Literally.

He’s a liar and a gambler and a thief, and that’s the tamest part of his sins. He’s had blood on his hands that’s not his. Far too much to ever really wash away. He can’t take the risk of your brother finding out that a crook and a murderer like him messed around with the most precious jewel in that family.

They don’t know his name, and now he’ll make sure they never will.

How can he explain that to you? He knows that makes him a coward.

So he comes to the decision that there's nothing for him to do but leave you in the dust and never look back, tacking this night onto the murky cloud of his many mistakes. Even though it makes his chest hurt. Because he thinks - thought - that he could feel something deep for you, something he was starting to. Maybe even... No. That’s so damn foolish. Someone like him doesn’t deserve to love, much less be loved back. All the more reason to coat his heart in tar, making it impenetrable to him and anyone else.

In the days and weeks and months to come, he'll force it to forget you. He has to. And that will only make him colder and bitter.

Forlorn. He fucking deserves that.

He leaves the robe in a pile next to the bed, quickly and quietly pulling on his jeans, shirt and jacket, and grabs his phone from the table, staring vacantly at your backpack until he comes to the conclusion that he has no other choice. He doesn’t have time to pickpocket or hold up a gas station. 

Glancing towards the bed to make sure you haven’t stirred, he reaches into your bag, finds your wallet, swallows down the disgust for himself, and pulls out enough cash that will get him a plane ticket, food that he can stretch over a week, and gas that’ll get him to where he needs to be. Eventually to Incheon. He shoves the wallet back in its place, folds the cash into his jacket, and hauls ass to the door so you don't wake in time to see him disappear without a trace. But in the rush, he forgets the one thing most precious to him that he took off before he showered.

It isn't until he's zipping away on the motorcycle that he’ll ditch on the side of the road, blaming the cold and whipping wind for the tears piercing the corners of his eyes, that he realizes and curses himself. The one thing he was supposed to never lose, to always take care of, he forgot. For the rest of the way home, his mother’s words ring in his ears - he’s a fuck up who’s lost all chances of redeeming himself. No one will want him. So going forth, that's what he carries with him every day when you come up in his thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to keep you out. 

Despite what he wanted, he hopes he’ll never see you again.

It's better this way. He did you a favor.

When you wake up, it’s not your empty stomach that makes you feel nauseous.

It’s the frigid, deserted sheets next to you. The quiet, hollow room. The robe on the floor, embedded with the scent of his musk and cigarettes.

Okay. Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he stepped out, went to get food or more cigarettes.

But with what money?

So you find your phone, ignoring the disarray of the room as you click on his message thread that holds your text he left on delivered, and start a call.

One ring. Then another. Then a click and you open your mouth to ask him where he is, but instead you’re met with a robotic voice, and your heart drops in disappointment.

“We’re sorry. The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again later.”

You shoot confusion at your screen, a cold front moving into your chest from your fingers. You call again.

One ring. Fast heartbeat, bated breath.

Then three ascending beeps. “We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please hang up.”

A piece of your soul collapses. Loud ringing blares in your ears as you stare at nothing, as everything sinks in.

What was the point of him giving you his number if he was just gonna block you? What was the fucking point of leading you to believe that he wanted more than just a one night stand if he was going to leave before you woke up?

It takes all of your willpower to not chuck your phone clear across the room, to have the screen crack so you can’t see the numbers he typed in just hours ago, mocking you now that he blocked you.

Now you’re nauseous with embarrassment. Anger. A heart shattered. Made worse by the sweater you’re still wearing, engulfing you with the musk that you’ve been wanting to drown in. You rip it off and throw it on top of the robe, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Once you dare a look in the mirror, it’s his marks all over your skin. The lingering smell of him in the bathroom from the shower he took. The silver chain on the sink that dangled on your throat and on your back when he fucked you like you’ve never been fucked before. The touch of his hands all over you, his mouth on yours that you won’t get rid of for weeks, no matter how hard you scrub. The sound of his voice in your ear, some of his words making things stir in your chest that felt like a prelude to what could’ve been love.

How could you be so stupid?

You’d been so vulnerable and open with him. You feel like you spilled your guts and all he did was pick them up with bare hands, chuck them in the trash, and set it on fire, looking back with no regrets.

After shoving the sweater and chain deep into your duffel, you leave in a flustered hurry, eager to escape the room encapsulating a passage of time that will torment your subconscious. Near the airport, you rush into a pharmacy for a morning after pill, because you’ll be damned if you get knocked up, especially by someone who doesn’t have the fucking decency to say a single word before dipping out after a night like that.

When you get out your wallet to pay, the wad of cash stashed there is significantly lighter. In a bathroom stall, you hastily count out just how much.

Motherfucker took 500,000 won. The betrayal just increased tenfold. He fucking played you.

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to go back in time and make sure this night never fucking happened.

Most of all, you want to call your brother. Because he would hunt Min Yoongi down.

But doing that would mean also telling Jin that you’ve been in Jeju this whole time and that you were gambling, which would not go over well.

So you leave and go back to your life separate from the place now tainted with memories that ruined the good ones.

Fuck him. Fuck him big time for being just like everyone else. And for fucking stealing from you. You know what your father (if he ever really cared) and brothers would say - that's what you get for letting your guard down. Naive and weak-minded people only get themselves hurt. So just like you’ve done countless times, you pick up the pieces of your heart that were stomped and crushed and left for dead, and bury them in the recesses of your mind, keeping all of your pain to yourself. Pain is weakness, especially the kind you can’t see on your skin, and weakness is forbidden in the blood you share with your family. You’ll become hardened and vindictive but maybe now the lesson will stick. Because for the years to come, his eyes, his lips, his touch, his voice, will haunt you in your dreams and your nightmares. You hope to all hell you never see him again.

If you do, he'd better watch his fucking back.

.

.

.

Okay finallyyyyyyyyyyyyy!! i'm sorry this took a hot minute to finish but thank you so much for reading!! I know this has been long winded 🙃

(Btw I’m not super proud of the smut 😅 and not 100% confident in how this turned out which is why it took me so long to post sooo hopefully it’s not all a dumpster fire lol. if it is, lmk but pls be nice about it! Im just a girl)

Pls feel free to drop some thoughts and theories in my inbox or comments! I’m dying to know what y’all think. like no pressure but you'd make my day!! it's literally a serotonin rush whenever i get a comment or an ask lol

xxx - claret

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