#had 10 men fawning over him yeah . . . .

[charles-leclerc-official]

We really need to accept that omega Charles would be an absolute whore

[jokerislandgirl32]

Ziolet Songs: Day Ten

Day 10: High School Sweethearts

Could you hold me through the night? Put your lips all over my Salty face when I start cryin' Could you be my first time? Eat me up like apple pie Make me not wanna die Love me rough and let me fly Get me up, yeah, get me high Tie me down, don't leave my side Don't be a waste of my time

Can we just be honest? These are the requirements If you think you can be my one and only true love You must promise to love me And damn it, if you f*ck me over I will rip your f*cking face apart

Prior to their romantic relationship, Violet had a crush on Zach that spanned from their time at summer camp until Zach and her finally got together, nearly 8 years later. As a demisexual/aroflux individual, Violet never felt anything for anyone except Zach, and this caused her to become rather obsessed with him (pointing fingers at myself here 😂).

Violet became known as the “Varmifreak” at her school; she was Zach’s obsessive fangirl, and was bullied and ridiculed relentlessly for this. Violet never let the haters get her down though, she happily gushed about her beloved Zachy even when people didn’t believe she was telling the truth about knowing him.

Violet unintentionally mentions the haters to Zach (he doesn’t realize the extent of her crush on him at this point), and when Violet decides to perform in the school talent show, unbeknownst to Violet beforehand, Zach shows up.

Violet elected to perform this song along with a dance/aerial hoop routine, this song being representative of her obsession with, love for, and devotion to Zach. The boys who once ridiculed Violet, including her future ex Travis, are fawning over her, and although Zach feels nothing for her romantically, he ends up fuming at their reaction.

Below you can find an excerpt of this scene, and the first showdown between Zach and Travis. Please note the mention of some suggestive comments by Travis/his friends.

Violet was sitting in an aerial hoop, looking out at the crowd as she sang happily unaware of the hateful chatter being uttered by her fellow classmates:

“She might be crazy, but you know, she’s hot…”

“I’d like to get me some of that…”

“You know what they say, a freak in the head is a freak in bed…”

“If she wasn’t so hung up over that guy she’s always talking about, maybe she’d be dateable…”

“I could make her forget all about that guy…”

I’d had enough of their crude comments, “can you ignorant jerk stop talking about her like that?”

I look at them with an annoyed expression, and they turn from their gawking at Violet to stare at me with their gaping mouths instead.

One of the guys shakes his head at me, his green eyes flashing with rage behind his glasses, “what’s it to you old man, I see you’re staring at her too.”

I sputter on my own words, “Wh-what? No I’m not! She’s my friend! I just came here to support her and surprise her!”

The same boy laughed, “friend? She doesn’t have any friends except that smokin cousin of hers and that CEO she claims to know, and no one can even talk to her to become her friend because she won’t shut up about him…Zach Varmipeck or whatever.”

“It’s actually Zach Varmitech, and yes, we’re best friends,” I reply matter of factly, and I see the young men’s faces fall in unison.

The green eyed boy quickly bounces back and chuckles, “so you’re him…you’re the one she’s singing about…the one she’s always talking about…”

I furrow my brows, “singing about…what do you mean, is she singing this about me?”

The boy shakes his head, he looks like he’s itching to lay hands on me, but his buddies stop him, “Travis, don’t do it,” one hisses.

Travis maintains his composure, “you’re too dumb to notice it, aren’t you? And yet you’re calling us ignorant.”

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

I feel this should be important to bring up. When Bruce found that Buff Batmom never had sex before, he was kinda shocked because one she’s goddess level attractive and all the men and some women fawn over her all the time. Two, but the more Bruce thinks about it’s starts to make sense because Buff Batmom never seem interested in sex, she always acknowledged that a person is handsome/beautiful but never showed interest of wanna to fuck them and she never pays attention the compliments and inappropriate jokes makes about her. So when Batmom tells him she’s Demisexual, she had explains it. Also in terms of sex drive, Bruce sex drive would be a solid 8 outta 10 cuz he gets laid a lot in the comics. Buff Batmom is a 3 outta 10. Despite having huge amount of stamina and never getting tired, Batmom usually uses it for training, yeah she willingly to get down and dirty with Bruce and show her more sexy and seductive side to him. But most of time when she not in the mood, she usually doing work, training in the cave, reading, or doing all chores around the house in rapid fire speed.

Yeah for her sex isn't a big deal. If she doesn't have it for a long period of time, no problem, she has stuff she has to do anyway, and also she only wants to do it with someone she really loves, aka her husband. If they've got free time and they can do it, great! She's always down to have one to one bonding with him and also show Bruce her love to him in the most intimate way.

[echotoyou]

OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOK THIS 😮‍💨 THIS ONE 😮‍💨😮‍💨 THIS ONE HIT ME IN THE FEELS 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

harrow this chapter was WOW and honestly felt like a fun little what if/snapshot mc had somehow stayed in the sex work/dance world, what would mc find joy in doing, what would mc focus her time on, what would mc truly be like

and I love the little nods to mmm perhaps this isn't the life that she would've wanted or chosen (like the moment where mc is angsty she's having trouble adjusting to the sleep schedule) perfectly contrasted with her fitting it to a T and integrating with the bachelorette parties and making all sorts of "single use friends."

the jk, hwasa, and jimin interactions and banter were FLAWLESS. the absolute tension between literally all of them with mc (maybe not jimin) was stunning and felt so smooth and very much a hell yeah

(the gay panic was so cute I love mc)

AND THEN the jk walking in on mc DANCING!?? PLUS HER TALKING THROUGH WHY SHE'S UPSET (sexy) PLUS PLUS PLUS LATER IN THE OFFICE 🤯

I adored jk and mc jumping into action to go take care of hwasa (10/10 friendship and platonic love win I love them)

omg don't even get me started on the dance cages eeeeeeeee

okokokokokokokok before I get any further in generic terms I need to share all of the lines that made me scream so here they are:

Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid

HARROW THE TITLE ALONE OH BOY

the moodboard is a MOOD (lol thank you captain obvious)

THE NICKNAMES

dove 🥹

hehehehe “the last thing you need while on sabbatical from both of the men who you continue to be in some unnamed but deeply romantic relationship with, is Jeon Jeongguk making you feel giddy.”

THIS LINE “You understand why men wage wars over love and lust”

"getting his attention by draping herself over him and slamming her hip against his side." HAHAH i can see this so vividly

chaiskxjs jimin in eyeshadow

heheheh a pet name bingo card i like: buttercup, doll, doll face, dove, fawn?

he’s getting help!!!!

she reaches out one hand and gently rubs her fingertips over your wrist, snaking them into the sleeve of your black denim jacket and sending a tingling warmth into your bloodstream.

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii I'm ok I promise I'm so very fine uhhhhhhhhh

fills you with a heavy-weightless warmth, buzzing in a deep thrum that tenses and relaxes and relaxes and relaxes. 

oh oh oh oh oh the relaxes and relaxes and relaxes part is mmmm

the hwasa tension is EVERYTHING holy moly

"But a kiss between friends can easily spiral into something more, can it not?"HMMMMM CAN IT

WHORE MIX HAHAH

heheh jimin yelling at jk is so funny

OMG JK BESTIE WHAT

"I didn't consider how even playful actions might bring up bad memories for you, and I get what that's like." <pikachu face> is this,,,,, character development?????

"But then he sends a simple little sentence that stirs both immense joy and deep, profound sadness—  Namjoon: I miss you too, sweetheart. —and you stare down at it until your vision blurs with tears."

HARROW 😭😭😭

OH MY GOSH THE NAMJOON TEXTS

IM CRYING

MY VISION IS BLURRING WITH TEARS

THIS WHOLE PART IS AHHHHH

"How is it that something so tiny could make his absence feel so much heavier?" 😭😭😭

sweetheart is another pet name lol bingo board ✅ 

"and you nod to nobody as you drop your phone down and clench it to your heart.  He says, "Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid," and your heart goes wild behind your ribs, bursting with affection." 

IFHAIIANSHAKA

HARROW IM CRYING

CJJAKSMNA "and he trembles above you, gripping the blanket tightly in his fists on either side of your head." 

LMAO "Probably, the average person would ask if you were alright and attempt to help you find refuge. Probably, they would be in their right mind to do so." row this feels like an @ for your readers hmmmmmmmmmmm

THE DANCE CAGES

they’re so sweet :)) 

THIS is an incredible chapter so much happened aijfnldjnvanlfoae row wowoowowowowoowoowow you have an incredible skill and have made me fall in love with all of your characters to no end. I'm shook in all the best ways, I'm emotional in more, and I am going to need to read this all again ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Collateral 🗡️ 17 - Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader 🗡️ word count: 15.6k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, minor character death, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️ chapter warnings: excessive drinking to numb/forget; so much fucking tension lolol; Hwasa (yes, that is the warning); new nickname for the bingo card (doll/dollface); Jeongguk is a flirty little shit & he got his eyebrow and lip pierced; mc learns to dance; use of "whore" (not derogatory but also kind of derogatory); smoking weed; mc confessing to "going all ways" (sorry straight readers, but i don't know how to not write a queer mc); mc has some complicated feelings and is doing her best; Jeongguk sometimes says the wrong thing but he is also doing his best; a healthy amount of crying; mention of dead moms; discussion of drug use & addiction; inexplicit discussion of sex (sorry lads, the smut is in the second half. it's worth the wait!!!)

🗡️ note: this chapter spans about three weeks, and there is no clear definition of time in between some scenes because mc is just kind of...dealing with the passage of time in her own way. so if it seems kind of disjointed, that is because it is meant to. also, as you may have seen, this chapter wound up being 30k words, so i have broken it in two parts and beefed up some of the scenes. i intend to post chapter 18 very, very soon. ok i love you, enjoy!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on june 2023 | read on ao3

You love Yoongi; there is no question about it. 

Despite the hurt and confusion and pain, one thing that you are certain about, above all else, is that you love him. 

And that is why you drink. 

You drink to numb the myriad feelings. You drink to pass the time. You drink to forget. With a twinkling haze of intoxication, loud club beats, and bright lights, you drink, and drink, and drink. 

Jimin caves instantly on his insistence to not teach you how to dance, and you realize that he is not only a brilliant dancer, but that he seems to really enjoy having someone around to join him. Behind Paradise is a ballet studio that he owns and rents out to instructors. When he has free time, he goes there to practice in front of the wall of mirrors while some sultry melody plays on an old-fashioned boombox in the corner. 

Sometimes he throws on a hip-hop beat and does experimental moves with his body, contorting his limbs in square, jarring movements. Other times he drifts gracefully through the space to ballet pieces, muttering about Tchaikovski, Prokofiev, and other names of long-dead men that you struggle to pronounce. He is always magnificent—a true artist of his craft. 

It takes no time at all to become a friendly face at Paradise. Within just a few nights, the cocktail waitresses, dancers, bartenders, and regulars all seem happy to greet you. Jimin has introduced you to everyone as dove, a nickname you quickly warm up to, which is what everyone there calls you. 

Everyone, that is, except the new bar manager, Jeon Jeongguk. 

At Paradise, under the flashy red, purple, and fuchsia lights, he calls you dollface, or doll for short. And at first, you fucking hate it; the words stick like bile to your tongue, heavy and tacky. 

But the more he struts over with his black satin shirt unbuttoned just a little too low, hair slicked back, standing too close with his sticky-sweet whiskey breath and muttering shit like, "Looking gorgeous tonight, doll," you begin to warm up to it a little. 

"What happened to buttercup?" you teased the first time he tried the new nickname, and he rolled his eyes, chewing on a piece of pink bubblegum wide-mouthed like an adorable a fucking cow as he said, "That was the old me, dollface; I'm not the same person I was yesterday."

It should come as no surprise that Jeongguk is really beginning to grow on you. Now that he works the bar and you see him a lot more often, his attitude is much softer. He still teases you, and at times, it makes your fucking blood boil, but there is a softness to his gaze, especially when his smile stretches wide, that makes your tummy do a backflip whenever his presence lingers. 

All of this is extra dangerous in your current situation because the last thing you need while on sabbatical from both of the men who you continue to be in some unnamed but deeply romantic relationship with, is Jeon Jeongguk making you feel giddy. Try as you might to convince yourself that your feelings are purely a product of your loneliness, you know that is untrue; your feelings for Jeongguk had already begun to sprout, and, as time goes on, they continue to grow. 

You are also finding yourself charmed by Jeongguk's second-in-command, a wisp of a woman with a wide smile and even wider hips named Ahn Hyejin—stage name Hwasa. Hyejin is tiny, barely standing taller than Jeongguk's shoulder with her sharp stiletto heels on. But she commands a room, voice booming and deep when she needs it to be, making all the dancers do exactly as she says. 

Although you are surrounded by beauty in a place like Paradise, nobody steals your attention like Hyejin. Her beautiful diamond-shaped face is always made up with sharp black eyeliner and bright red lipstick. With wide, dark brown eyes that pierce into your soul, all it takes is one pointed smirk, and you are practically melting to her feet. She is always dressed a little revealing, showing enough skin that your eyes continuously trail back to her, just to get another glance.

You understand why men wage wars over love and lust. Hyejin is living proof of why so many sonnets and classic literature pieces are steeped in maniacal desperation over a woman some lonely man saw at a passing glance one time. 

Hyejin was once a dancer, too, but she worked her way into a management position, and all the family men who come to the bar treat her like a sister, including Jeongguk, who only reluctantly calls her Hyejin-noona because she is two years older than him and likes to insist on the nickname. 

She teases Jimin at times, too, being several months older than he is, and she uses it to her advantage when she wants him to do something for her. Jimin always grumbles, rolling his eyes while fulfilling her requests to make the stages and dress rooms better for the dancers, but he does everything out of love for her, and for his dancers, and he is grateful to have her on his management team, giving him advice on how to improve.

Hyejin is, in a word, amazing.

"I see the way you look at her," Jimin teases you tonight the moment she walks in sporting a red one-piece latex bodysuit with long sleeves and a deep v-collar, putting her thighs on glorious display. She wears matching red thigh-high boots, and her long, dark brown hair falls past her shoulders in waves.

Although you turn your head in the direction of Jimin's voice, your eyes stay on Hyejin as she struts over to the bar where Jeongguk is leaning forward on his elbows, getting his attention by draping herself over him and slamming her hip against his side. 

"Hmm?" you finally ask when seeing the two of them standing side-by-side has your cheeks feeling entirely too warm, though it still takes a few stray seconds to pull your gaze to Jimin. 

He has one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and he tongues the inside of his cheek, making you feel even more embarrassed. You are only human…what does he expect from you?

Tonight, Jimin wears silver shimmer on his eyes, with his brown hair styled off his forehead. His black satin button-up is undone to the center of his chest, and it is tucked into very tight, fitted black slacks, styled with black boots. 

Everyone at Paradise is honestly so breathtaking; it is no wonder the place brings in so many high-rollers willing to spend top dollar. Although you are determined to keep Jimin as a friend only—not that he has ever shown signs of wanting more from you—you still find yourself stunned by his beauty.

"Gonna start calling you fawn instead of dove," Jimin teases, and you snicker at the wordplay, unwilling or able to deny you have been fawning over Hyejin since the moment you met her. 

"I need a pet name bingo card," you tease, scrunching your nose to feign annoyance, despite finding it cute. 

You smell a familiar perfume—bright floral and lightly fruity—dance softly in the air before you feel an arm sling around your waist, and you take a fortifying breath before turning to find Hyejin's beaming red smile inches from your face. 

"Hey, dove," she greets in a deep, sultry tone that makes every little hair on your body stand up. 

"Hey, Hyejin," you respond as your cheeks become hot.

"What are you up to tonight?" she asks, giving your waist a squeeze before sliding her arm away but staying just as close. "Practicing any more of your dance moves?"

You chuckle and shake your head, feeling nervous about talking to her, of all people, about dancing. Once Jimin let it slip that he was showing you floor moves, both Hyejin and Jeongguk began hounding you for a demonstration. 

"Ahhhh, probably not," you respond, sounding just as awkward as you feel. "I was planning on sitting here tonight and drinking all of Jimin's expensive whiskey for free."

Hyejin pouts and it sends your heart haywire, making you nearly cave. "I want to see your moves," she says in a sweet, baby voice that has you floundering for words—deciding that you would probably do anything to satisfy her. 

"Maybe once I feel more confident," you respond demurely, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

This seems to satisfy her, and she winks as she says, "Looking forward to it," before walking off to the dressing rooms to check on her dancers. 

"Holy shit," you mutter under your breath once she is gone, catching your breath as if you had just run a marathon. 

Jimin scoffs, teasing you as he says, "You are such a whore," and you laugh with him, rubbing your palms over your face. The effect that she has on you must be as obvious to her as it is to everyone else, and the prospect of that makes you nervous.

You have begun to dress a little nicer when you visit Paradise, starting from the first night Hyejn was introduced to you—wearing the more casual designer dresses that Jimin graciously brought from your room at the mansion, and letting him do your hair and makeup. She always gets a little too close when you have your cleavage showing, so you have been displaying it more and more lately.

"She's just so pretty," you complain as if it is an inconvenience, making Jimin laugh anymore. 

"Careful, doll," Jeongguk's voice speaks way too close to your right ear, causing you to gasp and flinch, turning in the direction of the sound. "Keep flirting with her and it might make me jealous."

You scoff and lean away from Jeongguk, who only crowds closer, teasing you with a grin. Recently, Jeongguk has gotten his eyebrow and lip pierced, both on the right side—your left—and he keeps his hair cut short with a sharp, dark undercut. Today, his hair is styled in a swoop over his forehead, and his delicate, floral musky scent is dizzying the closer he gets. 

Since working at Paradise, Jeongguk has begun to dress a little differently, and you find yourself unable to keep from sneaking glances at the slivers of skin he kept hidden behind buttons and t-shirts before. He continues to don his standard all-black attire, but he has also switched to satin, much like Jimin. His shirts are always unbuttoned to the center of his toned chest with no undershirt, and tonight he has several silver chains of various lengths and widths cascading from his neck. 

"I wouldn't dream of it," you tease as you take a step away from Jeongguk and spin on your toes, toward the bar. A sexy R&B song plays loudly, and you swish your hips to the rhythm, knowing without having to glance back that he is watching you. 

And although you tell yourself that you should not enjoy his attention so much—or anyone's attention, for that matter—you revel in the thrill it gives you. Yoongi and Namjoon have both encouraged you to pursue him, anyway…surely they wouldn't mind if you have a little innocent fun. After all, you have no idea when you may see the two of them again.

Nights at Jimin's house are lonely. His mansion is huge and empty, and you prefer not to spend much time there by yourself, which means you tend to be at Paradise from late evening to mid-morning most nights. At first, you thought your sleep schedule would adjust and you would become a night owl just like Jimin and Jeongguk, but as the days wear on, you find yourself exhausted, floating through a realm of half-wakefulness. The drinking likely does not help. 

But what other choice do you have? Despite the deep ache behind your ribs, it feels too soon to return to Namjoon. During a brief phone call shortly after returning from Paris, he mentioned Yoongi was in the countryside at a facility to help him get past the first three weeks of withdrawal. 

From time to time, you find yourself wondering how long it has been since you returned from Paris. It could have been weeks, but it could have been days; you have been disinterested in keeping track, finding the tangible passage of time too painful to confront. You figure the time will come when they are both ready to return to you and not a moment sooner; no use dwelling on it.

On the nights when all you wish to do is let go and forget, you either sit at the center stage and watch the strip shows with a drink in hand, or you head to the upper-level VIP section of the club and dance by the railings. When you are feeling outgoing, you find a group of drunk, friendly women by the back bar to become single-use friends with for the night and dance until bar close. 

Back when you first moved into the mansion, Paradise was apparently a dance club with a brothel beneath, just like Serendipity. But during the weeks leading up to your Paris trip, Jimin had been working on getting the space remodeled—hence why you had not seen him around much, for a while. There still is a dancefloor, but it is rather compact near the back bar; not too many people come to Paradise just to dance. 

The main room now consists of three stages—two smaller ones on either side of the room, and one large stage in the center, all equipped with a spinning poll. Everything is made up of dark wood, black leather, and chrome.

Beneath Paradise, there are still brothel rooms, but it is a very hush-hush affair that not too many patrons seem aware of. A patron can book any of the dancers for a private strip show and lap dance in a back room, but anything explicitly sexual is kept strictly to the lower level, and unless someone knows how to ask for it, they will get removed from the premises in a heartbeat. 

Jimin oversees all Paradise operations, but his main focus is on the activities that take place underground. Jeongguk and Hyejin oversee everything on the main floors, including the strip stages, the back bar and dancefloor, and the VIP bar upstairs, which is more or less just a mezzanine with a bar and booths that cost a pretty penny to use. 

Paradise is your oyster, and you more or less have free reign to do anything you would like.

During the nights when you do not feel like drinking, you go to the dance studio. Sometimes, Jimin goes along to let off some steam, either before he needs to run things at Paradise, or when he has a break in his duties. Other times, you go alone. 

You have been getting a hang of moving your body in ways Jimin has shown you, and in new ways that you are discovering on your own. And although you are nowhere near as flexible or fluid as he is, you are surprised by how your body can bend and move and stretch when you allow it patience and grace to learn how. You get why he, and the other dancers at Paradise, take so much pride in their craft. To the patron, it may just seem like stripping and ass-shaking for some loose notes, but to them, and to you, it truly is an art form.

On nights when you dance, the loneliness is not at all quelled, and you find yourself spacing out often and getting lost in your thoughts. But the more you move and let out all of your pent-up energy, the lighter the loneliness seems to feel. Some nights you are able to relax and feel at peace, rolling and stretching your body without a care in the world. It gives you hope that there truly may be a light at the end of this tunnel, no matter how long it takes for you to reach it.  

"Hey, pretty," a familiar sultry voice purrs, giving you goosebumps. 

It is some unknown night in the middle of the week, and you left a group of bachelorettes by the back bar to step outside and smoke a joint. It is rare that anyone is out here, and you are surprised to find Hyejin, of all people, leaning against the brick wall in this quiet, employees-only escape tucked away in a dark alley. This spot is nestled behind a tall fence, past which is a set of dumpsters and a narrow path out to the main roads.

Hyejin is beautiful as always, wearing a black long-sleeve crop top shirt and high-waisted short shorts, under which black garters stick out and are clipped to black thigh-high socks. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, slicked on the sides, and as she approaches, her mary jane heels clack against the pavement. 

"Hyejin," you mutter, swallowing thickly and abandoning the joint you had forgotten to light, cradling it in your fist. "Didn't realize you would be out here."

Tonight, she wears a nude lipstick rather than the red you have grown accustomed to, and her smile is not quite as warm. As she approaches, you are greeted by her lightly fruity, floral perfume. 

"Stepped out for a breather," she sighs, eyes falling to your hand before they meet your gaze. With a raise of her eyebrows, she adds, "Mind if I help you smoke that?"

Your brain has to reboot before you lift your hand to inspect its contents, and you remember what you came outside for, chuckling as you hold out the joint and lighter to her and say, "Of course. You can hit greens."

Every once in a while, Hyejin will smile shyly. She has a practiced shy smile that she uses on Jimin, Jeongguk, and plenty of her customers—honed to perfection to get just what she wants. But this one is soft and delicate, filling her beautifully golden-tawny-toned cheeks with a deep red blush. 

As she unfurls the soft smile that opens into a toothy grin, she reaches out both slender manicured hands and takes your offering, gently scratching her long, painted-black fingernails against your palms. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you giggle, squeezing your hands shut before opening them again.

"That tickles," you admit when she looks curiously, laughing softly at you.

"You're easily ticklish, hmm?" she mutters with the joint cradled between her lips, then flicks on the lighter, giving her face a beautiful golden glow while igniting the tip and sucking in. 

Hyejin takes a slow inhale followed by a sharp one, then holds her breath and passes the joint to you. When she lets out an exhale, smoke plumes in front of her, and you take a nice, big hit and hold it in, just the same. 

The smoke is warm in your lungs and licks at your senses. As you breathe it out, you feel a small sense of release, letting your shoulders drop and your body relax. 

When you turn to hand the joint back to Hyejin, she is standing much closer, leaning on the sliver of brick wall between you and the closed back door. You instinctively take a step back but rotate so that you are facing her, with barely any space between you. This time, when she smiles, her eyes have the sparkle that you are used to, but there is still an unmissable hint of sadness swirling in their deep umber depths. 

"You know, you can always talk to me if you need someone," she offers unprompted as she takes a hit and hands the joint back. 

You nod and mull it over, unsure where you would even begin. You have no idea what Hyejin knows about your situation, and although you think you can trust her, there is a part of you that is unsure whether you really want to talk about it, especially right now. 

"Thank you," you say before taking a hit and holding it in. Hyejin turns her head to blow the smoke away from your face, then she reaches out one hand and gently rubs her fingertips over your wrist, snaking them into the sleeve of your black denim jacket and sending a tingling warmth into your bloodstream.

You turn your head to exhale, then hold up the joint, asking, "More?"

"I'm good right now," she responds softly, and you move your hand away from her inviting touch to pinch the lit end off onto the ground. In your pocket is a small plastic tube into which you slide the joint, placing a little plastic cap over the end so that its smell does not stick to your clothing, and then you return your arm to its spot and allow her fingers to resume exploring your wrist and hand.

"I appreciate the offer," you try, hearing the way your voice trembles as the weed settles over you and fills you with a heavy-weightless warmth, buzzing in a deep thrum that tenses and relaxes and relaxes and relaxes. Sheepishly, with a giggle, you add, "I don't…really know where to begin."

Hyejin's hand sides into yours, palm against palm, fingers wrapping and holding on tight. 

"That's okay," she responds with a disarming smile. "I just wanted to offer, just in case. I know you have Jimin and Jeongguk, too."

At this, you laugh and sink further against the brick wall, tilting your head to rest against the scratchy, unwelcoming surface. "I do have them…for better or worse."

Hyejin laughs in understanding, then she rolls her eyes and says, "Jeongguk is so possessive; I thought the two of you were dating when you first started coming around."

"Oh?" you respond, a bit surprised by this news. Admittedly, when you first began coming to Paradise, you thought there was something going on between the two of them. It took a couple nights to realize that the way Hyejin hangs off of and pouts at her manager is all an act. "We're…not…" you begin, trailing off, unsure what to say.

"He clearly has feelings for you, regardless," she adds, and you search her face and fidget in place. Hyejin seems genuine and sweet, but you are so used to women in this line of work having ulterior motives and using kindness as a tool to gain information and an upper hand. But that does not seem to be what she is doing, and you let out the breath that had gotten trapped in your lungs and nod, chuckling lightly. 

"Yeah," you admit, feeling your cheeks warm. "He…certainly does."

"Oh my god," Hyejin teases, squeezing your hand until you look at her wide, beaming smile. "You like him too, don't you?"

Try as you might to shake your head and mutter, "No," she mirrors the movement, laughing and practically shouting, "Yes, you definitely do! You are a terrible liar, dove!" 

"It's…complicated," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut with embarrassment. 

A sweet giggle flits through the air like a flutter of butterflies, and you open your eyes to find Hyejin regarding you with the sweetest smile. 

"I won't judge you," she assures, giving your hand another squeeze. "I don't know a lot about your relationship, but Jimin has mentioned you are dating two men, which…honestly, sounds like a dream come true."

Your heart seizes a bit around the word dating, and you swallow thickly and nod, unwilling to go down that path. Nothing has ever been established, despite your confessions of love and the huge, expensive fake-engagement ring that sits in your dark, empty bedroom. Sometimes, if you allow yourself to dwell on it, both the distance and time spent away from them make you worry that things may have an end date that is sooner than you expect. 

But none of this is pertinent enough information to share at a time like this, so you smile as convincingly as you can while saying, "It has its perks."

Hyejin returns your smile and closes the already meager space between the two of you to press a kiss against your cheek. Her mouth is soft and warm, and you let your eyes flutter closed, smiling from the smell of bluebells and apple that fills your senses. As she pulls her lips back, she stays close, cradling your chin with her hand while opening her mouth to continue speaking. However, the back door flies open, cutting off what she was going to say.

The sight of Jeongguk looking around the corner makes you gasp and back up, kicking up a flurry of feelings in your chest. Despite nothing happening between you and Hyejn, this feels like too precarious of a position to be caught in suddenly. Daresay, it may appear somewhat intimate. 

Jeongguk's expression is wide and shocked, but it quickly melts to intrigue. He steps outside and approaches, slinging an arm over both your shoulder and Hyejin's. 

"Well, what have we here?" he asks with a tone that is far too gleeful for anyone's good. 

"I was just telling our dove that I am here if she needs anything, and then I gave her a kiss on the cheek," Hyejin says, turning to Jeongguk and standing on her toes to plant her lips against his jaw. 

Jeongguk looks affronted and gasps as she says, "There, now nobody is left out."

"Listen, I'm not here to break up whatever is going on between my favorite girls." Jeongguk says, gaze on you as he raises an eyebrow and adds, "I just didn't know our doll swings both ways."

Feeling indignant and a little claustrophobic, you shrug away from Jeongguk's arm and give his shoulder a shove. 

"For your information, I go…all ways…" you mutter with a grimace, trailing off because you do not owe him an explanation. Labels for sexual orientation may work for some, but they have never been your thing; you like people for people, and it is as simple as that. Defensive, you add, "But she was just giving me a friendly little kiss on the cheek, so it doesn't matter."

Jeongguk grunts unconvincingly, then leans in close to say, "But a kiss between friends can easily spiral into something more, can it not?"

With that, Jeongguk takes a step back, leaving you standing shell-shocked and ready to smack him. Jeongguk winks and says, "Hyejin-noona, when you're ready, I have some things I wanna go over with for tonight," then he walks inside. 

Hyejin holds out her elbow, asking, "Shall we?" and you lift a hand to slide against her soft skin, allowing her to lead the way. 

Once you are back inside, the bachelorette group is still at the back bar, drunker and louder than when you left them, and you wave Hyejin and Jeongguk off as you walk over and allow the women to pull you into their chaotic little group for shots. 

You wake up late in the evening with a hangover after hanging with the bachelorette group the night and morning before, taking shot after shot of overly sweet liquor that was far too strong for its own good. It feels like it has been ages since you have felt so awful, and the thought of having even a drop more of alcohol makes your stomach churn.

So, tonight, rather than go to Paradise, you decide to visit the dance studio to practice the floor moves Jimin has been teaching you. Although you are still certain you have no desire to dance at the club, practicing the moves has been cathartic. And it helps you slow down on drinking. Being a lush for a while has definitely been one way to handle your myriad tumultuous emotions, but the hangovers are too frequent, and after what you felt earlier today, you are eager to change your ways.

Dancing also makes you feel sexy. You enjoy watching the way your body can curve and flex, bending and swaying in ways you had never really attempted before. Tonight you alternate between taking moves slowly on the floor, facing away from the mirrors, before attempting to add speed and flow to them while watching your reflection. 

With the cassette mixtape that Jimin has scribbled Whore Mix onto playing through the boombox, you stretch on a dark purple yoga mat that sits in the center of the floor while a sultry voice sings and raps over a beat that begs your hips to move, with the mirrors to your left and the studio door behind you.  

The approaching click-clack of boots against the wooden floor that greets you does not strike you as odd at first; you have grown accustomed to Jimin and his affinity for boots. So you continue practicing without turning to greet him.

Anchored back on your elbows, sitting on the mat on your left hip, with both legs bent, you stretch your right leg straight and fan it out at an angle lifted in front of you. In the same fluid motion, you lift your left leg, creating a v-shape in the air. Then you curl your legs in, trying to perfect the graceful movement that Jimin is so good at, twisting until you are on your right hip.

Only when clapping echoes through the room do you realize that the boots had stopped moving and that the tell-tale frenetic energy Jimin always brings to the studio is missing. You turn with a gasp and find Jeongguk standing in the center of the room, wearing his standard all-black. His button-up is undone enough to show a dip of his chest, as always, with no shirt underneath, and it is tucked into black slacks that are so fitted, the material strains against his thighs when he shifts from one foot to the other. 

"My, my," Jeongguk teases, approaching before squatting beside you. "What have I walked in on?"

Instinctively, you lean away, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. You sit wearing a tight purple sports bra and very tight, very short black athletic shorts, making you self-conscious to be met with such a hungry stare, especially knowing that he had been watching you, just now. 

"Jeongguk," you mutter, having to clear your throat to get more sound out. "What are you doing here?"

"I was coming to see if Jimin was here. Wanted to run a few things by him."

You nod, feeling like a fish out of water with how your mouth hangs open. Jeongguk's cologne is stronger than usual and a little different tonight—musky and floral with hints of spice—and you find it incredibly intoxicating. 

"But what I found is far more enticing," Jeongguk continues with a smirk.

Silence falls between you, and you feel your hands prickle with sweat. All you can think about is that kiss in Hong Kong and the chemistry you found in his lips—how delicately he asserted control but never pushed or pulled too much, causing you to unravel in moments. You want to feel that again—want to feel him again—so much that it seems like a bad idea for you to be left alone with him, like this. Flirting in the club, with people around, is one thing, but here, alone, seems dangerous.

Jeongguk stands, and you let out a heavy breath, then swallow a lump, feeling relief wash over you at the thought of him leaving. But then he walks over to the corner, to where some black chairs are shoved together, and he grabs one. Anxiety washes over you when he begins to bring the chair over, boot heels echoing loudly against the floor as he places it beside you and has a seat. He spreads his legs and leans forward, resting his wrists against his knees, tattooed hands so close you could reach out to him. 

With his lips tugged into a sharp grin, he says, "Let me see that move again."

You must look as stunned as you feel, blinking up at him, because he chuckles and raises his pierced eyebrow, clearly amused by your lack of response. 

"Come on, dollface," Jeongguk teases, leaning even closer and dropping his voice far too low for comfort. "Don't be shy."

Even as nervous as you are under his piercing stare, you like the attention he gives you. But continuing what was started between you without Yoongi or Namjoon present feels wrong, and it stirs up guilt and shame, starting in your tummy and working its way to your throat. You want to show Jeongguk your moves and crawl to him, grind your hips over his lap until he calls you noona and begs you for more. But not here. Not like this. 

Luckily, the click-clack that actually belongs to Jimin's boots storms down the hallway and into the room, giving you an out. 

"I told you to meet me in my office," Jimin complains, approaching with his hands on his hips, one balled into a fist that holds onto a manilla envelope. "Why did you come here? To bother her?"

"I must have misread the text," Jeongguk responds, eyes still on you while they glimmer mischievously before turning his attention to Jimin. "Office…dance studio…same thing."

Jimin lunges forward and slaps the envelope against the back of Jeongguk's head, saying, "Not the same thing, and you know it!" before shoving the document into his hands. 

You watch somewhat stunned as Jeongguk's mouth falls agape, and he chuckles. Then, as he begins to open and read through the contents of the folder, you take your leave, rolling the yoga mat in your hands as you walk away. Draped over one of the black chairs in the corner is a black hoodie and sweatpants, and you pad over, set the mat onto a chair, and slink into the garments, keeping your hair tucked into the shirt and the hood pulled low over your face.

"Gonna head back to work," Jimin says in a flurry, exiting just as fast as he arrived with the folder in his hand. "Come to the club if you want. Or call me if you need anything."

With a nod, you turn on your toes and begin for the door.

"And just where are you going?" Jeongguk asks, stopping you in your tracks and pushing a sigh from your lungs.

"Home," you say before your lips flounder, and you correct yourself, heavy-blinking. "Jimin's place."

With a hum, Jeongguk stands and says, "I'll drive you," picking up his chair to bring it back to where he got it from. 

Although you have made no plans for a ride, you know that Hoseok was at the club earlier, and you had planned to call and see if he was around. Jeongguk giving you a ride would definitely be convenient, but is that something you want right now?

"You have work to do," you insist, shaking your head and feeling nervous at the thought of being in a vehicle alone with him. 

But Jeongguk sets the chair down, takes you by the back of the arm, and begins to usher you rather forcefully out the door. As your sneaker heels dig into the wooden floor, rubber squeaking with each step he makes you take, you feel petulant, and you are dragged to the dark hallway before you manage to yank yourself out of his grasp and take an uneasy step back.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you ask, feeling anger rise and fighting the urge to slap him. 

"What?" Jeongguk says through a chuckle, looming over you while he steps forward, closing the distance with each step you take backward until you hit the wall. "You're dancing like a whore now, so I figured you wanted to be treated like one, too."

Although you feel anger buzzing through you like a livewire, sending every nerve on high alert, more than anything, you feel deflated. Despite Jimin jokingly using that word to tease you, there is something about the way Jeongguk says it—something almost sardonic and mocking in his tone, met with how forcefully he dragged you out of the room. It settles like bile in your guts and makes you feel extremely uncomfortable. 

But, rather than put up a fight and challenge him, you storm away, shoving past his weak attempt to hold you back as you stomp toward the door. 

"Hey," Jeongguk calls, heavy footsteps trailing behind you. "What's the matter with you?"

Unable to hold in your rage, you spin on your toes, shoving your palms against Jeongguk's chest as you say, "What's the matter with you?"

Jeongguk hardly flinches, and when you step forward to push him again, he grips onto your wrists and holds you still, tugging you close to him but not in a way that is meant to be rough or suggestive. He almost looks worried, brows knit as he studies your face. 

"Hey, hey," he mutters, holding onto you just tight enough that you have no choice but to stop lashing out. 

Somehow it works. Maybe because you are exhausted, or maybe it is the floral, musky scent of his cologne—or a combination of things wrecking your tiny sense of sanity—but you hold still and let Jeongguk softly shush you while rubbing his thumbs over the knobby joints in your wrists.

"I don't like it when you talk about women that way," you say, feeling a swell of sadness fill your chest. You are aware that this is likely a trauma response to the way men have treated you in the past, but you need to at least attempt to establish a boundary. "I know we joke about it at the club, but the way you said it, I—" You close your eyes and shake your head. 

"When have I ever talked about women that way?" Jeongguk asks, voice sounding more defensive than apologetic. "Look, I was joking. I'm sorry."

"Just don't do it, okay?" you insist, yanking your hands away until Jeongguk relents and folding your arms over your chest. "I was a whore before, Jeongguk. Is it so terrible? Do you really need to make it sound so demeaning? Yoongi's mother was a whore, too, you know."

Jeongguk's face pales, and he appears angry for a split moment, but you do not attempt to argue. Perhaps it is out of pocket to bring up Yoongi's dead mother, but you were a part of the honey bees who came after her; you belonged to the same organization, come hell and high water. 

"You're right," he says, taking a step back and sliding his hands into his pockets. "I don't look down on sex workers, and I shouldn't talk as if I do. I'm sorry I offended you. I know that we make jokes, and I guess I got carried away. I didn't consider how even playful actions might bring up bad memories for you, and I get what that's like."

Surprised and unsure what to say, you rock on your feet a little before settling on, "Okay."

"My mother was a whore too," Jeongguk adds, stepping forward slowly. "I never held it against her. Even when it got her killed, I never thought badly about her."

There it is, once more—the taste of guilt.

"Jeongguk," you say, taking a step forward, but he holds up his hand and shakes his head. 

"I offended you. I'm the one apologizing. Let me make it up to you by driving you home?"

You nod, conceding. "Alright."

The walk to Jeongguk's black sports car is quiet in a way that feels charged and awkward, but as you settle in, you begin to relax. Silence continues to hang during most of the drive, and all the while, you think of Yoongi. As you stare out at the city lights that fade the further you get from the city, you wonder how he must be doing and whether he will return home soon. 

"Did you supply the heroin?" you ask without thinking, staring out at the dark roads past the city line. 

As silence stretches, part of you worries that Jeongguk might be offended by your question, and you keep your eyes on the shadowed hints of trees, refusing to acknowledge the expression on his face. 

Finally, Jeongguk mutters a simple, "No," and you allow yourself to regard him. 

Jeongguk's jaw is tense, and he stares ahead at the road, tonguing on the inside of his mouth while both hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

"I didn't think you did," you respond softly, watching as his pierced eyebrow raises. "I don't know why I felt compelled to ask."

Jeongguk's gaze flicks to you, then back on the road. "Because you overheard my conversation with Namjoon that morning outside your bedroom. And because I was the one in charge of the drug operations."

"Yeah," you respond with a shrug. "But I don't think you would be that careless."

With a hum from Jeongguk, silence settles once more. You relax back in your seat, watching the road curve and become a little hilly before evening out. By now, you are familiar with this stretch, anticipating the sight of the property to come into view very soon. 

Whenever you pass the mansion these days, it is dark and quiet. If not for the outdoor security lights, it would be nothing more than a looming shadow—a silhouetted remnant of lives at a standstill. Namjoon must sleep in his own home, and from time to time, you consider walking down the dirt and gravel path to his property to see him.

But everything feels off balance in a way that you struggle to reconcile, and you feel like you need a little more time. You fish your phone from your hoodie pocket and check his Instagram feed, sad to see he has not posted anything to his story. 

Namjoon likes to post his workout routines, what he is listening to, and shots from trips to museums. Lately, though, he barely shares anything, making the lack of his presence feel heavier. You nearly ask Jeongguk to drop you off at his place, but you cannot seem to open your mouth to get the words out.

Instead, you text him. 

Me: It's hard to keep tabs on you when you don't post story updates.

The message feels stupid, and you chew on the inside of your mouth once you hit send, staring at the screen and hoping that when he sees it, he does not find it annoying. Is there a chance of him being offended?

Three dots appear and disappear, over and over, making the anxiety in your tummy frantically build and crash like a wave pool that has just been switched on. But then he sends a simple little sentence that stirs both immense joy and deep, profound sadness— 

Namjoon: I miss you too, sweetheart.

—and you stare down at it until your vision blurs with tears.

As you open your mouth to ask to be taken to Namjoon's house, the dots appear and disappear again, and rather than speak, you clear your throat and wait for him to say more. 

"What is it?" Jeongguk asks, and you turn your head to him, confused at first, then realize he may have taken the sound as a feeble attempt at starting a conversation. 

"Oh," you respond, "Uh, nothing."

"Alright," Jeongguk says simply as he begins to turn into Jimin's driveway, waiting as the metal gate opens and allows you entrance.

As you pull into the drive, listening to the gate close behind you, the urge to cry becomes more difficult to tamp down. You swallow thickly, blinking away tears as Jeongguk stalls in front of the door. 

"You good?" Jeongguk asks, and you turn to regard him, but as soon as you open your mouth to tell him you are fine, the sounds die in your throat, and you have to swallow everything back down again. 

"Th-thanks for the ride," you manage to mutter as you get out of the vehicle and run to Jimin's door, punching in an eight-digit code and holding your eyes open as wide as you can manage for the retina scan. 

Once inside the dark, empty mansion, you sink against the cold, wooden door, feeling your chest heave with emotion so deep, you become nauseated. Gripped in your fist, your cell phone vibrates, and you lift the device in a shaking hand, checking the notification—

Namjoon: I miss your voice. And your smile. I hope you're taking care of yourself.

—which sends you crashing over the edge as tears pour and your voice comes out in a loud, terrible sob.

Your heart pounds as you cry, feeling the crushing weight of how deeply you miss Namjoon. Although each breath that enters and exits your lungs is a storm, rattling and shaking you to the core, you sniffle and hold your phone tightly in both hands as you place a call. It is late, but Namjoon is responding to texts, so perhaps he is free to talk. 

Namjoon picks up on the first ring, and when his deep, surprised voice says, "Hey, sweetheart," you sob even harder. How is it that something so tiny could make his absence feel so much heavier?

"Hey," Namjoon says, sweet and alert, "are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm okay," you cry, punctuated by a sniffle. "I'm at Jimin's. Everything is fine."

"Everything does not sound fine," Namjoon insists, and you smile softly at his concern, taking in a deep breath. "Do you need something? Can I…can I do anything?"

Namjoon still owes you an explanation, and it is not something you will easily let slip. But you are certain that you cannot continue to keep him at a distance, even if it means putting the much-needed conversation on the back burner. Although life with Jimin has been fun and a little exciting, the loneliness you feel from being away from Namjoon and Yoongi has a tendency to become excruciating. 

"Can I see you?" you ask weakly, like a child who is afraid of being scolded. 

The soft chuckle that proceeds, "Of course, you can," warms your heart, and you close your eyes and smile wide, clutching your phone tightly to your ear. "Give me ten minutes? I'll be right there."

With a wet, disgusting sniffle, you say, "Okay," and rub the back of your hand against your nose. 

"I'll be there soon," Namjoon says as he ends the call, and you nod to nobody as you drop your phone down and clench it to your heart. 

It takes effort, but you peel yourself from the floor and kick off your shoes before heading up the stairs to your borrowed bedroom, squinting as you switch on the light. The room is similar to your room in Yoongi's mansion, but the bedding and curtains are pinks and oranges—a permanent sunrise. 

As you cross the room to the walk-in closet, you pull off the joggers and athleticwear from earlier and find a cute, soft pair of pink sleep shorts and a matching, loose pink tee. Then you run into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Even though you did not drink anything tonight, you want to kiss Namjoon until your lips bruise, and you need to be minty fresh. 

By the time you are rinsing your mouth and wiping your chin off, you hear a loud knocking on the front door, surprised that ten minutes could have passed so quickly. You run out of the en suite and find your phone on the bed to shoot off a message before heading down to let Namjoon in.

Me: One minute!

Although the rest of the mansion is dark, Jimin also has security lights on outside, and they shine through the windows enough to cast a silver glow over the small mezzanine and down the steps. You scurry down quickly, feet carrying you light and fast, and when you get to the front door and fling it open, you hardly have a chance to take in the sight of Namjoon before he is crossing the threshold and lifting you into his arms. 

A sob quakes through you as you wrap your arms and legs around him, burying your face into his neck. He smells musky—a bit sweaty—but the bright cologne with gentle floral hints you are used to are present. Namjoon closes the front door, haphazardly steps from his shoes, and makes his way to the stairs, stepping slowly, as he holds you tight. If you are not mistaken, it feels like his breathing shutters through him, and you wonder if he may also be crying. 

"I'm sorry," you find yourself muttering when the silence stretches on long and oppressive. 

Namjoon squeezes you harder. 

"No," he says softly, voice trembling, "sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I made you cry," you sob, feeling guilt and sadness fill your lungs until it hurts to breathe.

Namjoon chuckles and sniffles, reaching the top landing of the stairs and turning to the right, toward the only light in the home that is on. He says, "Making someone cry is a side-effect of being in love, I'm afraid," and your heart goes wild behind your ribs, bursting with affection. 

"I've missed you so much," you whimper against Namjoon's skin, and when he leans forward and attempts to put you down onto the bed, you tighten your limbs, clinging to him like a koala.

"Let me set you down so we can get comfortable," Namjoon suggests, and you shake your head, groaning as you hold on tighter. He sighs, and tries, "Come on, I want to see you. I want to kiss you."

Once his attempts are futile, Namjoon gets onto his knees on the bed and bends until you are lying on your back with him towering over you. You finally move your head away from his neck and heavy-blink as you meet his eyes—which are bloodshot and blinking back tears.

"I've missed you too," Namjoon says as he kisses you, soft and sweet and warm. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened. I should have told you about everything, but I was scared to."

Namjoon's kisses are salty and wet, and he trembles above you, gripping the blanket tightly in his fists on either side of your head. Finally, you concede to his need to get comfortable, and you press against his chest, rubbing your fingers over soft black cotton. 

"Hey, lay down," you say softly, pushing a little harder. "You were right, let's get comfortable."

Namjoon sighs through his tears and gets up onto his knees, then crawls over to the pillows and makes a feeble attempt at moving the bright pink and orange floral comforter away. You sit up and help him, then run to the door to close it before adjusting the dimmer switch, lowering the lights just enough so that you can still see him. 

When you turn back to the bed, Namjoon has figured out the comforter, which is bunched up at the end of the against his feet, and he is sitting against the wooden headboard with his hands in his lap, watching you with a soft expression while tear tracks shimmer against his cheeks. He wears a black tee and black joggers, with his legs extended out but one leg bent slightly at the knee, and he is breathtaking—just as you remembered him. Maybe even more so. 

He has gotten a haircut recently, just above his ears, making him look younger. And it is darker; a more natural color. Some time ago—maybe a few days, or maybe a week—Namjoon posted a mirror selfie of the cut, obstructed mostly by his phone, and you are happy to finally see it in person. 

As you get onto the bed, on your knees, Namjoon reaches for you, pulling against the backs of your thighs until you have no choice but to straddle his lap, giggling at his insistence. You settle and drape your wrists over his shoulders to rub your fingertips over the short hairs on his nape while Namjoon's smile oscillates between joy and sadness. 

"I want to tell you I'm sorry," you begin, without giving him a chance to speak. You have been thinking about this every sober waking moment of however much time has passed—and some intoxicated moments, as well—and you feel it is necessary to get it off your chest. Emotions rise as you gather your thoughts, and your next exhale comes out shaky. "I was angry in Paris, but the things I said to you and Yoongi did not come from the heart. I was hurt, and I still am, but…I don't understand addiction. I have no idea what Yoongi must be going through, and I—"

You choke on a sob suddenly as a flash of Yoongi's face comes into view. The hurt way in which he stared ahead, straight through you, while you screamed and cried and demanded to be taken home.

Gently, Namjoon rubs his hands up and down your back, covering you in comforting warmth. His smile is sad, but he does his best to show that he is listening and that he is receptive to what you need to say.

"I just feel so awful," you continue as tears fall. You are so tired of crying and hurting, but it is a necessary step in healing, and you do your best to let it quake through you and settle into your bones. "I love Yoongi. I don't want him to be in pain."

"He knows," Namjoon finally says, but you screw your eyes closed and shake your head. He may have an idea of what you are going through, but he needs to hear from you that you are sorry. You need to tell him, yourself. "Yoongi using again was a bit of a surprise to all of us. Although it is something I always fear may happen again, I really had no idea it would happen like that, especially on vacation."

"When is he coming home?" you ask, feeling hopeful.

"Less than a week," Namjoon responds, smiling sweetly as he lifts his hands to thumb away the tears on your cheeks. "I have cleaned out the mansion, and Jeongguk has made sure the team taking over his responsibilities knows that heroin and other opioids are off limits. Jeongguk was already avoiding selling either, in the first place, but he has reiterated that fact, to be on the safe side."

"That day, outside my room, you said there was a package with what looked like heroin," you say, watching as Namjoon's face screws up with worry. You grimace, adding, "I'm sorry I was eavesdropping."

"That…I still don't have all the details ironed out," Namjoon responds sullenly, "but I am certain that Jeongguk had nothing to do with it. Yoongi admitted that he had sent for the package on his own, and it arrived from overseas with a bunch of tailored suits. I don't know how he got a connect in Italy, but I really shouldn't be surprised; Yoongi knows people everywhere."

You nod somewhat listlessly, waiting for the crucial detail where Namjoon tells you he threatened the Italian guy, or found some way to rough him up—whatever the case—in order to keep him from sending Yoongi junk again. But when he does not continue, worry and sadness sink into your tummy like a brick. 

"So…" you begin, heavy-blinking and feeling at a loss for words before settling on, "...how do we make sure he doesn't use again?"

Although Namjoon continues to smile, his eyebrows pinch sympathetically, and he returns to rubbing your back. 

"We just love and support him," he offers, which feels both gigantic and minuscule, all things considered. "We continue to be there for him and…hope that it is enough."

"That's it, huh," you sigh, defeated. 

"Yeah."

Silence hangs, and you let your vision blur, attempting to sort out what you could possibly do. What if loving Yoongi is not enough? What if the pressures of his lifestyle only continue to press and press on him until he sinks another needle into his vein, desperate for relief?

"I wish he could just…not do this anymore," you mutter, blinking Namjoon back into focus. "Maybe having all this power and responsibility is too much."

With a sad chuckle, Namjoon nods. "Yeah, well…the only way out of a life like his is death."

Although that is not the response you want, it is the one you expect, and you lean heavily into Namjoon, accepting it for now. There is not much more to say until Yoongi is back. 

"Can we sleep?" you ask, feeling your body become weighted down with exhaustion and warm with a comfort you have not felt in what has seemed like eons. 

"I would love to sleep," Namjoon responds sweetly, releasing you from his hold as you slide down to the bed and begin to reach for the comforter. 

Namjoon gets out of bed to turn off the light, and for a split moment, in the cold, crushing dark, you begin to feel anxiety rush over you. In the cold, crushing dark, you are alone, alone, alone, isolated and heavy and so terribly scared. But then the bed dips, and warmth slides into place beside you. Limbs settle with a familiar weight, and suddenly, the darkness feels and smells like home.

"I love you," you tell the darkness, gasping when lips graze your cheek, your nose, and finally, your mouth. 

"I love you, too," the darkness tells you sweetly as you begin to drift to sleep.

Tonight, you did not get to kiss Namjoon until your lips bruised, but you feel satisfied with the fact that you were able to lighten the burden of heavy sadness just a little. And, in a matter of days, when you have the same conversation with Yoongi, it may not go the same way, but at least the three of you can continue to take steps in the right direction, and that allows you to sink into sleep with a smile on your face. 

When you wake up alone, your first instinct is to panic. You sit up with a start and check for any sign of Namjoon, but the en suite door is wide open, and there is no sound coming from inside. The spot where he had slept is cold, and you begin to worry that it was all a dream and that he was never here at all. 

Frantically, you begin to search for your phone, which is not on your bedside table where you usually keep it, feeling the overwhelming urge to cry take over. What happened last night, and why is there no trace of him to be found?

With a deep breath, you close your eyes and run over the events of the night. You came in and changed, then you messaged Namjoon to let him know you were going down to let him in. Vaguely, you remember tossing your phone to the bed, and you begin yanking at your comforter, desperate to find it. 

Your phone must have been wrapped up in the bedding, because after only a moment of tussling and searching, you hear a nice loud thunk against the floor, at the foot of the bed. You let out an exasperated sigh and crawl to the edge, draping your body over the end as you reach and search for the device that has managed to find its way just under the bed frame. 

As soon as it is in your hand, you turn on the screen, eager to find evidence of Namjoon's existence, with your torso suspended in air. As soon as you see a notification from two hours ago, you smile and wiggle backward into a seated position to properly read it.

Namjoon Hey, sweetheart, I'm so sorry I left while you were still asleep. I tried to wake you, but you were out cold. I'll be visiting Yoongi this afternoon. If you want to come along and you see this before 2 PM, let me know. Otherwise, I hope to talk to you soon. Thank you for letting me in this morning; I slept better than I have in weeks. I love you. 

Although affection blooms brightly in your chest, you feel sadness squeeze you tight, like an old friend. You do want to see Yoongi. You want to see him so badly, it hurts. But you are not sure you want to see him before he comes home. Wherever he is staying, and whatever state he may be in…you are not sure that you are prepared for that. 

It is only 1:45 PM, so you decide to call Namjoon. Not only are you eager to hear his voice once more, but you are not eager to voice what is in your heart over text. 

He picks up on the second ring, sounding a bit winded when he says, "Hey, sweetheart."

"Namjoon," you respond brightly, smiling widely. "Hey, I just woke up and saw your message."

"Ah," he responds, breathing heavily, "what time is it?" After a pause, he shouts, "Oh, shit, Gguk, I gotta go!" 

You laugh as you hear them chatter lowly, then say their goodbyes, imagining how adorable Namjoon becomes when he is frantic—eyes wide and worried while he flails his muscular limbs around somewhat aimlessly. 

"Gguek and I were working out," Namjoon says as you hear the sound of a door open and shut. "Lost track of time."

You smile, nibbling your lip. "Good thing I called."

"Good thing, indeed. So, did you—"

You don't mean to cut Namjoon off, but there is enough of a break between his statements, that you say, "Listen, Namjoon, I'm—" then halt, realizing you had spoken over him.

"Go on," Namjoon urges, and you close your eyes, listening to the sounds of his breathing, of birds singing around him, and of feet walking somewhat frantically down the dirt and gravel path between mansions. 

"I don't think I can go," you finally say, feeling meek and embarrassed as your voice drops and comes out with a tremble. "It's just…I don't know what to expect, and it…it scares me."

Namjoon says nothing for a few moments, and it makes you worry. But then you hear him keying in the passcode to his home and let yourself breathe. He is probably too stressed to be multitasking while in a rush. 

"Can I call you back? Or maybe we can talk about this later?" Namjoon finally asks, and you let out an even deeper sigh in relief. "I don't blame you at all for not wanting to come, but it feels like there is more you need to get off your chest. I have to take the fastest shower of my life, though, so that I can leave soon."

"Yeah, no…yeah. That's…" you stammer, squeezing your eyes closed and allowing yourself to smile while hot tears run from your eyes. Namjoon is so kind and understanding—so caring and giving. Affection burns for him, and you want to hug him so tight and never let him go. "If you want to tell Yoongi that we talked, I think it might make things easier for me later, but do whatever feels right…I don't know."

"I'll tell him what we discussed," Namjoon responds breathily as feet storm up a flight of stairs. "I know it'll make him happy to hear how you are doing, and how you have been handling things. I'm bringing him home in four days, so we can all sit down whenever you feel ready."

Four days is not soon enough, yet it feels like no time at all. Looming and terrifying, yet promising. 

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, Namjoon."

When Namjoon says, "I love you so much, sweetheart. Thank you for calling," your heart squeezes, and more tears fall, cascading like tiny waterfalls. 

"I love you, Namjoon. Drive safe."

"Will do. Bye."

You mutter, "Bye," but your finger is already pressing the end call button, giving Namjoon all the time and space he needs to get ready. And then you hug your phone tight to your chest and continue to cry. 

Somehow, the happy tears feel thicker and hotter than sad tears—more present and urgent. If Yoongi comes back in four days, that means it has been just over two weeks in Jimin's home. You heavy-blink in an attempt to conceptualize the time, feeling ashamed by how little of it you remember. Briefly, you worry that you may have imposed, but Jimin has never so much as hinted at that fact, so you allow yourself to let the idea go.

It is difficult, at times, to accept the many ways in which you are loved. It feels strange to look back on how you ended up tangled in this web, with these men. Part of you wishes you and Yoongi could start over—meet organically and fall together not because of proximity and a need to cure a deep, aching loneliness that had built over years, but because you simply want to.

But could you simply want to fall in love with the head of a crime syndicate? No, you think. Probably not. 

Still, how do you explain that to someone who asks? I was kidnapped as collateral, but we fell in love feels like a story not too many people would understand. Probably, the average person would ask if you were alright and attempt to help you find refuge. Probably, they would be in their right mind to do so. 

The next three days drag. Knowing that you will see Yoongi and Namjoon again soon has you a little on edge, but not necessarily in a bad way. Your dancing suffers for it, and you find your movements too stiff, too off-beat; your head and your heart are clouded, and you cannot seem to get your body to do anything. Still, you try. Wasting away drinking at Paradise does not feel like the best way to spend your lonely nights, but you want to wait for Yoongi's return before spending too much time with Namjoon. 

Although the three of you have different bonds and dynamics, you almost feel guilty at the thought of hogging Namjoon to yourself while Yoongi is out healing in the countryside. Despite knowing he would tell you not to worry—to be with Namjoon and keep him company. 

And, part of you thinks of this time as getting your last moments in with Jimin before moving out of his space. You have not voiced it, but you have been going out of your way to spend just a little more time with him after work, before the two of you crash for the morning and sleep, curled up on the couch with whichever anime he feels like playing in the background—currently, Attack on Titan. 

Jimin is phenomenal company, and you have really enjoyed following him around the house while he cooks, practices impromptu dance moves around furniture, and talks about nothing and everything. Even in quiet, still moments eating ice cream in the glow of the television, you feel the bond that has formed quickly and effortlessly, thankful to have a friend and ally on your side.

Despite the budding friendship, Jimin remains a somewhat secretive person. You have learned that his upbringing was privileged and full of wealth, but his parents were not kind about his desire to chase his own dreams instead of taking over the family business, and they quickly cut him off when he went to school for contemporary dance. It took no time at all for Jimin to wind up houseless, using his beauty to sleep with wealthy men and women for a meal and a warm bed. 

When Yoongi's mother found Jimin on the streets, she took him in with the promise of a better life, but how he came to replace her is unknown. How long Jimin spent on the streets, the kinds of things he saw in that time…all of those details, he hides behind a bright, practiced smile, only given away by the sadness that pours from his beautiful, round eyes. 

"I see myself in you, dove," Jimin says often, usually accompanied by a side hug or a kiss on the cheek. 

And at first, it made you feel strange. Jimin has come so far that maybe, you had originally thought, he sees you as a pet project; someone who needs to be fixed and turned into something beautiful. But now, you know that is not true. You know that Jimin sees persistence and survival; he sees someone imperfect but caring who just needs a little push to understand and figure things out, at times. 

Everything he has, he gained with persistence and survival; nothing was handed to him. Yoongi and his men, and possibly Yoongi's mother, taught Jimin the skills he knows today, that make him who he is. None of them became this successful alone; all seven of them play a crucial role. Eight, now, with you. 

You feel sentimental tonight when you lean against the bar cradling a glass of whiskey that you have been nursing for the last hour. Tomorrow, Yoongi returns home, and although it has not been voiced aloud, you can tell that the prospect has Jimin and Jeongguk in a better mood. You even spot Seokjin, Hoseok, and Taehyung coming in and out of Paradise, and they all seem chipper. 

Jimin is done up with pink and silver stage makeup, with his eyes and lips bright and shining. He wears his standard black satin top tucked into tight, leather black jeans, and tonight, he has a thick black rhinestone choker around his neck. 

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is pattern-clashing in a way that is both alluring and confusing. As standalone items, his silk, long-sleeve, plunging neckline leopard print shirt, and tight silver and blue floral lurex pants are solid choices. The shirt's neck falls nearly to his navel, showing beautiful topography of his chest—dips and hills of muscle and golden-tanned skin, accentuated by several mismatched gold necklaces; and the pants shine brightly in every light that dares grace his figure, drawing the eye to his muscular thighs and perky, round ass. But they look so strange and mismatched together, you cannot help but question what on earth he was thinking. 

"You sure have a staring problem, tonight," Jeongguk chides as he walks by, sending an inviting wink that makes you laugh far too boisterously.

"Just trying to figure out what you have going on, here," you respond with an incredulous smirk. "Did you get dressed in the dark, Gguk?"

With a roll of his eyes, Jeongguk responds, "Both items are Dolce and Gabbana, but okay."

And, without missing a beat, you say, "Pretty sure Dolce and Gabbana also produce plain clothes that would match better than this. Your black satin shirts would look really good with those pants, and…well, anything else would look good with that shirt."

"I don't expect you to understand fashion," Jeongguk teases, raking his eyes over your form as he takes a step closer. 

"Black, Jeongguk," you say, chin tilted high. "You have a closet full of black that would look phenomenal with both pieces."

With Jeongguk stepping into your personal space, that damned cologne hits you, and you begin to lose your composure. He really is suitable for smelling like a bouquet of wildflowers, especially with the spicy musk underneath; it is perfectly him. 

"I don't expect someone in boring Vuitton rags to appreciate the nuance," Jeongguk teases, voice dropping lower as he towers before you. 

"This dress costs as much as both that shirt and those pants combined," you bicker more quietly than before. The dress you wear tonight is certainly less flattering or flashy than what he wears—a Louis Vuitton brown and black knit mini dress with glitter thread mottling throughout. It has a square, rolled neckline and thin straps, but it hugs your curves nicely, falling mid-thigh. You raise your eyebrow to add, "Boss Min happens to like the way I look in Vuitton rags."

At the mention of Yoongi, Jeongguk softens, and you know you have won this round. Jeongguk scoffs, then slams back the rest of his drink, spinning on his shiny black leather boots before stomping off to where Hyejin and the dancers are congregated behind the main stage, going over something pertaining to the newly installed dance cages on either side of the bar, judging by how she points to them. 

You watch as Jeongguk walks away, allowing your gaze to linger on how those gaudy, silver-blue pants shimmer when they hug his ass, thanking your lucky stars that his silly fashion sense has, at the very least, provided you with a good show. 

When you turn back to the bar, you drink the rest of your whiskey and ask for another. The night is still young; the club has barely just opened and only a few patrons linger during the hours before the dancers take to the stages, but you have a feeling you are going to need to at least have a steady buzz to handle whatever bullshit Jeongguk is on. 

Two hours into your night, you are proven correct during a very flirty conversation with Hyejin about the dance cages—about how she thinks you should make your Paradise debut in one, asking if you would ever let her handcuff you to the bars—when the bartender informs you that the boss would like to see you in his office. 

Jimin seldom calls you to his office, but he is the only one who properly has one, so you head toward the back of the main room, past a security guard, and into a hallway that leads to Jimin's office, the dressing rooms for the dancers, and a meeting room that Hyejin and Jeongguk use when they need to. 

As you make your way to the door, you can hear the sounds of dancers chattering and laughing coming down the hall, and you assume that Jeongguk must be giving them their nightly pep talk in one of the dressing rooms. You knock twice on the office door, then try the handle. To your surprise, when you enter, the room is empty. 

Jimin has allowed you in his space alone plenty of times, so you make your way to have a seat in the leather armchair just in front of his desk. You decide to check your notifications while you wait and pull your phone from a small black purse that is slung over your shoulder.

The door opens and closes behind you, so you put the phone away before you have a chance to turn the screen on. And, instinctively, you stand to greet Jimin, surprised when you turn to find Jeongguk closing in, fast. 

Before you have a chance to speak, Jeongguk has the armchair shoved away, caging you against Jimin's desk, leaning close and low with both of his hands gripping the wooden surface. You practically sit against the edge, doing your best to lean back and away from Jeongguk, but he is a persistent, towering presence, and he wastes no time dragging his lips over your neck, just below your ear, sending a rush of arousal tingling through you at the touch. The scent of his cologne has your senses simultaneously dulled and on high alert.

"Jeongguk," you gasp, attempting to twist away but finding you do not want him to stop. "We can't—"

"I know," Jeongguk responds, voice deep and silky, lips dipping lower, dragging across your throat and leaving only the faintest hint of a spit trail. "Just want to tease you a little; make you squirm."

"Why?" you breathe, leaning back to create more space. 

When Jeongguk does not move, you lift your hands and press against his chest, attempting to push him back, but your palms slide on the silk shirt, and you wind up rubbing over his nipples, feeling metal under the drag of skin, causing Jeongguk to hiss as you gasp. Arousal builds and builds, and you squeeze your tights together, desperate to stave off the effect he has on you; you are, admittedly, touch-starved and somewhat feral. 

"I know you feel it, too," Jeongguk practically groans, still leaning way too close, voice spoken beside your ear. "We have undeniable chemistry."

"Of course I feel it," you respond, closing your eyes in an attempt to get your bearings while your heart pounds dizzyingly fast. 

Jeongguk asks, "Do you know how fucking hard it is to keep my hands off you?" in a tone that almost seems steeped in pain.

"Yes," you mutter softly, nodding shallowly. "I think I do."

With a sigh, Jeongguk finally takes a step back, but he stays close enough that you have to crane your neck; there is no room for you to stand away from the desk. The two of you stare at one another, and then Jeongguk scoffs and shakes his head. 

"Seeing you around so much has been…god, you drive me insane."

You chuckle, though you feel somewhat awkward being faced with his admission. Although, truth be told, being in Jeongguk's proximity so much during the last few weeks has also made you want to see him more and more; you know that, once you return to your normal life, you will come to miss him a lot. Or, perhaps, you can continue spending time at Paradise; there is nothing saying you cannot. 

"Last night, when I dropped you off," Jeongguk says, reaching up to gently cradle your chin in his hand, surprising you with his shift in demeanor, "were you crying?"

Although you glance away to respond, shyness rises, you nod slightly and say, "Yeah."

"Was it something I said?"

Quickly, you nod and return your gaze to Jeongguk, who looks genuinely concerned. "No. I was crying because I was missing Yoongi and Namjoon."

Jeongguk hums, drops his hand away, and takes a step back. 

Suddenly, the silence feels heavy, and you struggle to identify his reaction. He very clearly knows your involvement with both men, so why tense up at the mention of them?

"What's the matter?" you ask, unwilling to let anything weird hang between you. 

Jeongguk shrugs, but his eyes are on the floor, and it is clear that something is bothering him. 

"Jeongguk," you insist.

He sighs, and, without looking at you, says, "It just sucks that when things become normal again with you guys…I just…it's been nice to see you here."

"Ah," you respond. And you get it; it has been great to be around here and see him, Jimin, and Hyejin regularly. 

"But Yoongi will return and demand all your attention—" Jeongguk practically snarls, and you tut your tongue at him, staring incredulously as he balks at the interruption. 

"Yoongi does not demand anything from me," you say, standing up straight now that there is some space between the two of you. You feel defensive, but you can understand where Jeongguk is coming from; you really have not had any independence since moving into the mansion, but part of that is not having any direction or much desire to venture out, finding comfort and safety behind the familiarity of those walls. "Honestly, I have been loving it here. It's nice to leave the house for no occasion and see other people. I consider Hyejin and Jimin friends, and it has been so great having friends again. I don't want to suddenly stop seeing them. Or you."

"Won't you have your hands full with both of your boyfriends?" Jeongguk teases, and you are glad to see his mood has at least somewhat lightened; his smile has returned, even if his gaze remains sad. 

"Oh they definitely know how to keep my hands full," you respond with a wink, watching as Jeongguk's eyes and mouth widen comically. "But it is also nice having some space. Although I hate how all of this came about, I think taking a step back and allowing myself to really miss them and think about the many facets of our relationship has been important. I needed it."

"So I might actually see you from time to time?" Jeongguk asks, stepping close once more, seeming hopeful. It still amuses you when Jeongguk is all soft edges after so much time spent bickering with one another. 

This time, you step in close and rub your palms over his chest, making sure to drag your hands over his pierced nipples, smiling when he shivers beneath your touch. 

"We still have to finish what we started in Hong Kong," you say, voice dropped low and intentionally sultry. "I just haven't wanted to do anything without the others present…we haven't really discussed that, and I would feel too guilty leaving them out."

"I understand," Jeongguk responds, leaning into your touch and surprising you with a very soft, very chaste kiss on the lips before he mutters, "Taehyung will fucking kill me if we do anything without him."

Warmth floods your cheeks, and you drop your hands while taking a step back. Even after such a tiny taste, the urge to kiss Jeongguk is too great to stay in such close proximity. 

"We're going to have an entire audience, huh?" you ask, feeling more turned on by the prospect than shy.

Jeongguk chuckles and says, "Sounds like we will."

It almost feels surreal to discuss the topic of you and Jeongguk having sex so openly. Although you have had enough whiskey to give you a steady buzz, you are still clear-headed enough to spiral just a little over the thought of his body, and having it all to yourself. That is, unless the others want to play, as well; you really have no idea what to expect, and you are not certain you would deny them if they wanted to.

As you search for a way to end this conversation and return to the main bar before someone begins to notice the two of you are missing, Jimin comes barging in with his brows knit. Although you have done nothing wrong, there is a split moment of panic over how this may look, with the two of you in Jimin's office alone. 

But he simply glances between you and Jeongguk, huffs out a sigh, and says, "Oh, thank god. I was hoping to find you two in here."

"What's up?" Jeongguk asks, and you straighten out, worried that something may be wrong. 

"One of the regulars came in piss drunk and started harassing Hyejin. He groped her ass and when she slapped him, he got in her face. Security was able to intervene, but I need you to take him out back and fuck him up. Let him know shit like that doesn't fly at Boss Min's lovely establishment." 

Anger spikes heavily in your chest, and when Jimin turns to you and adds, "Dove, if you don't mind, I think she could use a friend," you nod, determined to do whatever it takes to make Hyejin feel safe. 

"On it," you say, walking past the men, down the short hallway, and out into the bar. 

Loud R&B music with a quick, enticing trap beat plays, and you stomp in your overpriced patent leather chelsea boots to the beat, storming into the main bar room like you own the joint and scanning the room for your girl. 

Standing at the main bar with her arms pulled tightly over her chest, is Hyejin surrounded by dancers. As soon as you approach, a girl who goes by Lily backs up and opens her arm wide to welcome you into the space. Hyejin is shaking when you drape your arm around her, hugging it loosely across her chest.

"Hey, beautiful," you say, and she turns and melts into you, throwing her arms over your shoulders and letting out a deep sigh. "Want to go out back and have a smoke?"

Hyejin hugs you tight and shakes her head, and you rub your hands over her back, waiting for her response. The dancers begin trickling out, having to get ready to perform, leaving pats on your and Hyejin's backs and soft words of support and encouragement. Once there is more space for her to breathe, Hyejin stands up straight and lets out another deep breath.

She is not crying, though her eyes are red, and when she looks at you with a frown, you gently place your hands at her temples and thumb at the smudged mascara under her eyes before muttering, "Perfect," with a grin. 

"I hate men," Hyejin says with a fake snarl, and you roll your eyes and nod dramatically, making her giggle. 

"Wanna talk about it?" you ask, and Hyejin shakes her head and says, "No. I want to dance."

Sitting on the bar is a half-empty pint of something bright blue, and Hyejin chugs it back, then leaves the empty glass behind and takes your hand, dragging you to one of the dance cages. The floor of the cage is raised about three feet from the ground and is a glowing octagon of rainbow color. Hyejin, wearing only a black satin bodysuit with lace trim and black stiletto heels, walks around to the back of the cage, closest to the nearby wall, and opens a door that blends in with the bars, then she takes a step up and hoists herself onto the platform. 

You follow behind and step up and into the cage, moving to the other side of the space to allow Hyejin to close the door. Although you are no stranger to dancing in sight of others, being in an elevated cage has your nerves spiked, and you wish you had taken a shot or three at the bar before agreeing to follow her. 

Hyejin wastes no time closing in on you with her fists around bars on either side of your head, and she holds on as she drops her hips low and swishes back up, all the while keeping her eyes on you. You sway to the beat with slower movements than the ones you watch Hyejin make, feeling entranced by her beauty and struggling to actually move the way she does. 

"Are you shy?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow, and you chuckle, letting go of some of your anxiety while you nod and mutter, "A little."

Hyejin spins with her arms still lifted, and wraps them over your shoulders, then dips down again, rubbing her ass against your thighs before standing up straight. You realize too late that you are frozen in place with your arms somewhat bent, like a Barbie doll, and Hyejin turns and immediately starts to laugh, bending and flinging her hair in front of her face. 

"I'm not apologizing for who I am," you whine as you join her in laughing, feeling embarrassed by your inability to act like a normal person around her. 

"I would never dream of asking you to," Hyejin says as she leans back against the bars across from you, swaying her hips with an amused grin. "But it is very cute how flustered you get."

You roll your eyes and smile, glad to at least be considered cute. Flirting and being flirted with is hardly an issue, and you would probably relax more around her if things were not so uncertain at the moment, in your love life. You are sure Yoongi and Namjoon would not mind, but it is a conversation you would like to have before you allow yourself to get carried away. 

Or, perhaps, there is nothing to allow. Probably, there is no way in which things could get carried away, but you are once again spiraling because Jeongguk has gotten under your skin. With a deep inhale, you remind yourself that Hyejin is likely just being friendly and that you are allowed to relax and have fun with her. 

So have fun, you do. The song changes to something with more of a club beat, and Hyejin begins to pump her hands in front of her chest while shaking her ass in overexaggerated movements, gyrating in a chaotic circle. With your hands pulled over your head, you begin doing some wiggle-shake move creating waves all the way down to your legs, laughing as Hyejin throws her hands over her head in an attempt to do the same. 

"What do you call this one?" She shouts over the music, and you shake your head and say, "I don't know! The overcooked noodle?" 

Hyejin practically throws her body against yours with laughter, and you trip backward, catching yourself with a hand on one of the bars to lessen your collision. There are definitely patrons behind you who have a view of whatever it is the two of you are doing, and you try not to feel too embarrassed. 

"Yah," Jeongguk calls, making you attempt to turn around, trapped in place by a hysterical Hyejin. He rounds the platform enough to come into view and grabs onto two of the bars as he teasingly says, "You girls are gonna scare away the customers."

You raise one hand toward him as if threatening to strike him, shouting, "Oh, shut u—" but the word dies as soon as your eyes fall to Jeongguk's knuckles, which are scraped and bloodied. 

"Jeongguk, what the fuck?" you ask, reaching for the nearest hand, which he slides away. 

Hyejin stands alert, then squats to be at eye-level with Jeongguk, and you fully turn, checking to make sure he has no other cuts or bruises, glad that he seems otherwise perfectly fine. 

"Relax," Jeongguk grumbles, tonguing the inside of his mouth while he cracks the knuckles of one fist against his palm, then switches to the other side. "This is nothing; scuff marks. That guy didn't land a single punch before he was lights out."

You sigh but accept that there is nothing you would be able to do to convince Jeongguk not to fuck someone up. It is, after all, something he has likely been trained to do and is celebrated for within the ranks of the family. Still, you hate to see his pretty hands bloodied. 

"Well, you know I don't condone violence," Hyejin says, reaching her hands between two bars, smiling when Jeongguk steps closer and allows her to grab onto his wrists. "But I really appreciate you sticking up for me."

"Of course," Jeongguk grumbles, smiling the soft smile that he does when he is attempting to hide the sweetness that festers inside him, threatening to burst. Cute. 

With a sigh, Hyejin lifts the wrist that Jeongguk wears his watch on, yanking it close while tilting her head to get a look. "I should go tend to the girls," she grumbles, releasing Jeongguk and standing to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You follow Hyejin's movements, watching which bars are part of the door, nervous that they blend in well enough and that you could be trapped in this cage for the rest of eternity, then you turn back to Jeongguk, who has two hands on two bars, and is staring up at you. 

"So," he says, stretching himself tall to speak to you, arching his back and tipping his chin upward. "I was wondering…"

Since you are already in the cage, and Jeongguk had already been a menace to your health and well-being earlier, you decide to take a page out of Hyejin's book and swish your body in an inviting wave as you squat, dragging your hands down the bars but keeping them lifted above your head. 

Jeongguk visibly swallows, losing what he was just in the process of saying, and you watch as his eyes trail to where your short skirt hugs your thighs, undoubtedly giving him a view of the black panties you wear underneath. And although you do not mind letting Jeongguk sneak a peek, you are glad that the lights are fairly dim in the club.

"What was that?" you ask, tilting your head to the side and giving a look that feigns innocence. 

The expression on Jeongguk's face flashes comically from needy to pained to frustrated, and he huffs out a sigh, shaking his head as if trying to rattle his thoughts free.

 "What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me, is that we should have dinner soon."

Jeongguk's offer takes a moment to compute, and you stare at him, heavy-blinking, trying to determine whether he is asking you on a date, or if we means more than just the two of you. 

"We, as in…"

"You, me, and our men."

"Ah," you respond; that makes sense. "Yeah, we should. That would be fun."

Jeongguk nods, letting his gaze fall once more to your legs before drifting slowly back to your face. "I'll talk to Taehyungah. Perhaps he can host, and I'll cook."

With an incredulous raise of your brow you ask, "Oh, you cook?" in a mocking tone of sheer disbelief. 

Jeongguk reaches up and holds his hands over yours, gripping firmly while he leans in, head between the bars and close. From here, you smell his cologne; from here you resist the urge to lean in close and kiss him. 

"I happen to be an excellent cook, dollface."

"Is that so?" you ask, voice much less confident than a moment ago.

"That is so," Jeongguk says, then he leans in somehow even closer, making your head spin. "So, it's a date?"

"Yeah," you respond, feeling your heart go wild behind your ribs. "It's a date."

What you did to me made me see the world differently Mis lágrimas se secan solos, solos Pues mírame a los ojos Dime si ves el vacío que deja amor perdido Yo no duermo hasta que mis sueño' están cumplidos Sé que estoy perdiendo, pero el juеgo no ha concluido

🎵 visit the playlist

ahhhh!!! how are we feeling??? i presonally really love this chapter. the next one containing the promised smut™ is coming very, very soon!!!! i promise. i was sad to leave Yoongi out of this chapter, and it was not my intention to have a full chapter without him, but it made sense to split the mega chapter this way, and it felt wrong to rush him back without mc taking time to sort her thoughts out and attempt to gain some independence.

thank you for reading!!! 💜💜💜 reblogs and comments make the world go 'round, and likes are nice too!!!

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Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bootylicious

Stray Kids Bang Chan x Idol!Reader Summary: You're known as the gym rat in your group, and quite frankly, you only have two moods: shredding or chilling. This was why when you're not asleep in between schedules, you're spotted with a male idol you happened to meet in the gym you were at that day. It's a known fact though, that you and Bang Chan are gym buddies and each other's spotter. Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: Internet toxicity, sasaengs, vulgar language, sexism, misogyny, pining, fluff, mentions of Pentagon because why not <3, etc.

A/N: Girl, i shouldn't do this but I did. It's so funny to me someone requested this cause I have recently become an exercise junkie lol. Also, if you can't tell, there is a pov shift after the cut so yeah. I also wanted to keep the reader gender neutral but I want to write about how psychotically different people treat male and female idols because that stuff aint it. It's most definitely not what anon was expecting me to write but I hope they enjoy it nonetheless.

There's compilation in YT with growing parts centered around you flexing your physical fitness and prowess. It ranges from you affectionally touring your fans, which really meant the cameraman, through the gym, introducing your trainer, and doing your routine on camera, to your group (and others) both fawning and bragging about how strong and how hot you are.

CLIP #1: A scene from an interview of your group in Japan, struggling to talk about how you can do 40 straight push ups.

There was a male interviewer in a suit you could all faintly recognize was talking about your recent Instagram post of a gym mirror selfie.

One of your youngest members smirked and in broken Japanese, cutely said, "Wah, she does 100 push ups! Everyday, every night."

You snap your head to the maknae and raise your brows, "nani?" You begin to shake your hands in protest and begin to explain your truth, "absolutely not 100. Maybe around 40, but nooooo, not 100."

The interviewer and your group comically react in awe. The man in the suit urges, "can you show us?"

You give a face, "Excuse me, but I'm not getting paid to do that in this miniskirt."

Everyone, including the film crew, break into laughter.

CLIP #2: A scene from a variety show where you had to prove you were, in fact, yourself, by doing a shortened version of your exercise routine.

One of the hosts of the show asks, "Wait, do you honestly do all of this in your workout? Like you can do all of it?"

The list of your exercises were written on a colourful cardboard, held by the one who just spoke. It was a range of exercises in 10 sets, from jumping jacks to sit ups, to vague sounding exercises like crab pinches and robot arms.

You purse your lips at the last question asked of you, not really liking the tone in which it was asked. You answer quickly and nod proudly, "I actually do more, cause when I get in the zone and I'm already really sweaty, I feel like I should keep going until my whole body burns." You chuckle.

The older hosts, tilt their head and mutter lowly under their breath something along the lines of, "I'd rather die."

You finally do the routine, quickly, continuously, earning impressed reactions from everyone.

"That's hot," one of the hosts note.

"Ya, for some reason it looks easy to do."

The hosts begin to clamour at that statement, and force whoever said to do the exact thing you did. Clearly, they don't work out as much as you do and cannot even get halfway through it without stopping.

You break out into a breathless laugh in amusement of the comical attempt but then protest, explaining how bad it is to force yourself to do more than you can

CLIP #3: Pentagon, Hongseok especially, fawns over how fit you are

Trailing a conversation about how your group is close with Pentagon because your companies are situated closely to each other and you wind up eating together a lot, there is an anecdote about how there was a jar no one could open, no one but you, that is.

The interviewer asks no one in particular, "wah, none of you could open the jar? Really? Or did you all just pretend so she could open it?"

There is a chorus of answers concluding with, "no really, she was the only one that was able to open it."

The story is backed up by how the jar had a really small lid and some hands were too big. Then came an explanation how you were recently into the new rock climbing machine in your gym.

Hongseok speaks up, "I was invited to go to rock climbing in, like, an actual rock climbing place and I was honestly so surprised when she began to climb. She said she never actually tried rock climbing on a wall, but it seemed like she had been doing it for years."

Shinwon agrees, "Right, right. I was also really curious about what they did that day," he points to Hongseok, "that I joined them one time. I never felt so out of shape in my life. I just stayed back and filmed everything."

Pentagon laughs, and then agrees that you were exceptionally fast and just super fit in all honesty.

The interviewer catches Hongseok's expression then suddenly asks, "do you like a woman like that?"

"Yeah, I like my women strong."

Then came a lot of teasing remarks from Pentagon, and a plethora of complaints from delusional fans who did not want Hongseok to ever breathe in your direction again.

With all that's been said about that, in all the parts of this series floating around in the internet, one thing remained, there was a slightly larger population of impressed fans than the still large portion of antifans who wanted nothing to do with it and only came around to hate.

It's hard not to think about it, but even the slightest back handed compliment can sometimes linger in one's mind.

And right now, as much as I kept my mind on my counting as I finished my set high knees, I couldn't help but think of how much backlash I got from posting a post workout photo with my midriff exposed.

Apparently that was not only enough to merit hate for being both a whore and an attention whore, but people baselessly began to hate on my groupmates simply for being associated with me.

It's kind of sad really, how, say Wonho, can post a fairly exposed photo of himself and get so much praise for it, and yet I couldn't even do anything remotely close to that.

And I don't even mean to come at Wonho, we all know he's a beast at the gym and should be able to show as much of his hard work as he is comfortable in showing, but why can't I?

"Hey trooper. I thought you said you were only doing 80 counts?" a voice cracks me out of my train of thought.

I turn to whom spoke and chuckle at myself as I stop my leg raises, "ah yeah, I got lost in thought, and your really good song."

I pull on my earphones and give a lopside smile, "I love working out to God's Menu."

He gives a soft, "he he, thanks."

"No need for a thank you when I'm only giving my honest opinion, Chan."

"Yeah, well still, it makes my kokoro go doki-doki," he sniggers, crossing his arms and flashing a dimpled smile. I raise my upper lip and reel back, "EWWW!"

I playfully shove him. He acts hurt, "this is violence against children."

"Chan, you're literally older than me."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a child at heart."

"You mean, it doesn't mean you're not a drama queen."

"Hey, I have no interest in having a throne, my only interest is," he leans in and whispers, "you."

I feel my soul leave my body as he snorts to himself and runs away. I regurgitate in surprise, "YA!"

"You better do your next set properly," Chan says heading off to a cable row machine, "I'm always watching."

I try to ignore the blood rushing up your neck, "creep."

He shrugs, "rather that or have you get injured, sweet heart."

Yeah, Chan has saved me from a lot of injuries I could have had. It was a bad habit. It stemmed from the same thing that made me mess up my count a while ago, my overthinking.

Sometimes I thought of rather harmless things, but sometimes I began to fixate on the hate I received for simply being. I do a lot to get my mind to realize that they hated me simply because they could and because it was easy. Exercising helped tremendously, especially when I had someone fun to work out with, especially when I was with Chan. He just... made me feel safe, y'know.

But when the news of us being work out buddies surfaced, a lot of sasaengs came for me. Of course, a lot of Stays and my own fans were really kind about, speaking out that we were our own people and exercising together did not mean anything in particular really.

But some really went for it, and made it a hobby to comment on everything I was in that I was a slut for 'working out' with different men every day."

I let out a breath as I finish my routine. I catch my breath and go for a swig of my water. I take a moment then sit down by the mirror, which was near where Chan was currently working out.

"You're doing it again."

I turn from where I was blankly staring at turn to Chan who gave me a soft look, "you good?"

I release a sigh then purse my lips, "maybe."

He pouts, "what happened?"

I shrug and stand from where I sat, "you know, the usual."

Chan then comes up to me and takes my water bottle from me, "you know, no matter how much people say you don't need water to live, you can never change the fact that you are extremely dependent on water to live."

I look at him and half- heartedly point, "are you calling me thirsty?"

He begrudgingly groans and releases a chuckle. He calls my name out in a scolding tone. I feel myself relax, "I know what you're getting at Chan."

He nods, "good. I'll always be here to remind you of that."

I smile and feel an urge to hug him, "if you weren't so sweaty, I would totally hug you right now."

Chan then gives me a look then does not hesitate to crush me into his arms. I groan and whine in protest. He chuckles, "you literally just said you wanted a hug!"

"YOU'RE LITERALLY SO SWEATY. NO ONE WANTS THIS TORTURE."

Chan huffs and gives a wounded look, "hmp. You better spot me while I lift or else I'm unfriending you."

"Hmm... I think I'll be good without you as a friend."

I half expect Chan to whine about it, but he instead smirks, "ahhhh, you must want me to be your boyfriends so badly huh."

I- I mean...

CLIP #4: A crack edit of Chan when he gets asked about his gym relationship with me in Chan's Room.

He was looking through the questions and suddenly chuckles, his ears noticeably began to redden. Cue a zoom in of his face and his red ears. Cue a clip of Cardi B saying, "that's suspicious."

He says my name then continues, "am I close with her? Yeah. I would say I'm close with her-- and her whole group actually."

Captioned: Nice save, Chris.

"The kids and I are close with her group," he says, clearing his throat.

A clip of him clearing his throat is repeated about ten times.

Chan adjust the beanie he was wearing as he thinks of what he was going to say next, "we actually do work out together a lot because she's under a trainer that works with my trainer."

Captioned: Sure, Chan. That's the only reason, right?

Chan catches another question, "Is she a beast in the gym like Hongseok says?" He breaks into a laugh. He then rubs his cheek and grits his teeth.

A clip of someone saying, "Oh he's jealous," flashes on screen.

"Yeah," Chan finally says, "she's got a really high stamina."

Cue the clip, WHAT DID HE SAY?

Chan continues, "she can go between exercises without stopping. she doesn't even take that much time to catch her breath. In fact, she sings while exercising sometimes, which helps make her vocals stable."

Captioned: Queen Tingz.

The next thing that happens is Chan breaks into a laugh and begins to chuckle. He says, "Sorry I saw a funny comment."

Captioned: WHAT HE MEANS IS HE SAW A COMMENT SAYING 'SHUT UP CHRIS, YOU'RE WHIPPED."

Then came these comments:

LITERALLY LOOK AT HOW FLUFFY BANG CHAN GETS WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT HER DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME MY SHIP IS ALIVE

They are dating period. prove me wrong. you cant

Chan literally blushes over anything, buT HE TURNED INTO A TOMATO WHEN HE TALKED ABOUT HER BYE

if you hate on your faves loving each other, you most definitely need Jesus (:

PLEASE CAN YOU SEE HOW WHIPPED THEY ARE FOR EACH OTHER

Yeah... it's not been confirmed to this day.

[mystic-sky]

A/N: In honor of reaching 400 followers, I decided to make this into a short series. I don’t know how many parts it’ll be. Thank you guys for reading my stuff and showing me love 🥺💕 you’re all so sweet 😭😭😭😭😭 I would also like to thank @teoran for the precious idea that allowed this story to come to be ❤️❤️

✨Part 2 here✨ | ✨Part 3/4 on ao3 only✨

“So, you’ve never actually been here before?” Suguru let out an annoyed sigh as his best friend draped his arm over his shoulders.

“No, but I heard this is one of the nicer ones.” Satoru says. “Besides, none of them are hard to look at.”

“I would’ve been content going out to dinner with everyone else-

“Lighten up! You do that all the time. You’re single so why not spoil yourself a little?” The white haired male insisted.

“Stuff like this feels degrading, and some of them are topless.” Suguru really hasn’t been to a strip club before. He wasn’t a prude, but surely his respect for women had him steer clear of places like this.

“Yeah— strippers do that sometimes.” Satoru laughed, taking hold of his drink. 

“And it’s not degrading- they’re hard working women. Stop talking like an old man and enjoy the show.” He added, respectfully. Suguru took a sip of his drink, watching a new dancer approach the platform. A sweet, caramel skinned girl had taken the stage, swaying around the pole in front of them.

“This is Tasty.” Someone over the loud speaker introduced her. “We recommend Tasty for new comers. She’s a bubbly, friendly dancer who feels like the girl next door. Tasty is currently ranked 3rd in our private dancer line up for this week.

“Look at her,” Satoru said, pulling his lip between his teeth. “That’s Tasty. I heard so many good things about her. She’s so much more petite and cuter in person.” 

Suguru only nonchalantly took another drink, but he was definitely looking. The tan skinned girl wrapped her body around the pole, delicately twisting herself right in front of the both of them. After shaking her ass for a bit, she moved down the stage, dancing for other customers. 

“I’ve got so much cash on me, Suguru-chan~! We’re gonna have so much fun.” He nudges his barely flustered friend.

“And try not to look so serious, before you scare the ladies away.” He rolled his eyes underneath his dark sunglasses.

“You think I’m scary looking?” Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah but in a sexy way.” Satoru leant forward, almost touching noses with the dark haired male. He really had no regards for personal space. 

“Wait til the girls find out you’re a huge softy underneath.” Satoru laughed. 

The tan stripper on the stage descended down the steps, wrapping up her routine and passing the two of them. Satoru pulled his shades down, winking at the girl, and handing her a generous tip. He watched her swoon a bit before running off, bra full of singles. 

“Candy, you’re on next.” Tasty called out to you as she entered the locker rooms. You were intently positioning your false lashes on in the mirror. You heard all the girls bustling on about some attractive men who were tipping nicely tonight as you got ready.

You hum in response, bending down and adjusting your straps on your shoes. 

“He winked at me, he winked at me!!!!” Tasty said, fawning with the other girls who were peaking out the doorway.

“Girl, you have to see this. They’re the hottest guys I’ve ever seen.” Tasty cooed at you. 

“They’re so tall. I got so shy and ran off. I’m sure the one with the sunglasses was flirting with me. I’m gonna go give him a dance, I just needed time to collect myself.” The tanned skinned girl held her cheeks in her hand as she spoke.

“Tasty’s got a crush hmmm?” You say smugly before standing up straight. You look at the hundred dollar bill sticking out of her bra amongst the many singles. You raise an eyebrow at her before you take both of your breasts in your hands, doing a jiggle test to see if they’d pop out your body suit. 

“You’ll have a crush too as soon as you see them.” Tasty rolls her eyes. You’re barely intrigued. You’d been infatuated with the same man since high school, and no one could compare to him.

Granted, the both of you weren’t actually dating, nor do you believe he had any idea about your affections or actually reciprocated them. He would occasionally flirt with you, but do not be mistaken— he was a complete asshole. You often rejected his advances, telling him to fix his off putting attitude. This led him to tease and mess with you more, but he still loves to do his best to get you flustered all the while. You couldn’t date someone who lacked so much compassion. But even so, every time you saw him, your knees went weak.

You were partially rejecting him because you were also a busy woman, and you barely had time to fraternize with him the way you wanted to during your day job. When you both were younger and went to school at the academy, he actively made you feel like you were losing to him because he was such a prodigy. Being on his team really sucked because even though you were producing proficient results, standing beside him only made you look just above average.

“Let’s see what this is all about.” You say, strutting towards the huddle your co workers created in the hall. You worm your way through, getting a glimpse of the two men that had everyone’s hormones in a frenzy.

“Oh no.” 

You watched as the white haired narcissist threw his head back in laughter, conversing flirtatiously amongst the other waitresses and dancers that crowded around him.

Fucking Gojo Satoru.

“Oh no, no, no.” 

Impossible. You were upset that you’d know that laugh of his anywhere. Not to mention his hair made him stick out like a sore thumb.

The only person who knew of your double life was Shoko. And Shoko wouldn’t tell a soul. 

Beside Satoru was a seemingly mellow Geto Suguru, grinning softly towards all of the women around them.

You sought death. That was the only way out of this situation- on a stretcher, covering your face and body and keeping your anonymity.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, squatting all the way down to the floor and crawling back into the locker room, praying not to be seen.

“Candy, girl, are you okay?” Your stage manager peered down at you as you slumped behind the love seat in the corner.

“Those guys out there— the two of them work at my day job.” You mutter, burying your face into your knees.

“You know them?!” Tasty interjects. 

“Unfortunately,” you nodded. “And the white haired one likes to mess with me a lot.”

“You wanna go home early?” Your manager asks. You had bills to pay, and but quite honestly, one day wouldn’t hurt. 

But for some reason you couldn’t help but feel like you’d be allowing him to win somehow by doing that. It was silly- he had no idea of your existence here so this was hardly considered a competition. But this was your space, and you refused to be forced to cower within it.

You stand up, scanning the room for something unique to wear. 

“I’m not letting that bastard ruin my bag. I’m getting my money tonight.” You sway towards the vanity, discovering a silk blindfold with eye sockets. You wrap the cloth around your eyes, adjusting it so you can see properly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” You say confidently, fluffing your hair in the mirror. Besides, it’s only one night, you thought.

You walk out of the prep room, walking towards the steps of the stage. You walked right past the two of them, feeling so many eyes on you as you slowly ascended the stairs.

Both their heads shifted towards you, the sound of pre-cheers and compliments from regular customers ringing with your every step. 

“This is Candy.” The host spoke into the loudspeaker. “All the boys want a piece of her. She’s the sweetest dancer here, and she’ll make you forget all your troubles with her playful smile. This week, Candy currently ranks number one in our private dancer line up.”

You were above the two gentleman who were posted up in the front of the stage. Just how did these fuckers find this place? You looked down at the two of them, like a queen looking towards her subjects. You started your routine, smiling your signature smile just like you always did. You wrapped your hands around the pole, swinging your body. The cheers and music rang through your ears. Dollars were being thrown at you, but you were so distracted by two of them.

The both of them had been eyeing you just like everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel self conscious anyways. You swayed your hips, swooping down elegantly to pick up some of the money while you danced, offering winks to some gentlemen in the crowd. Your eyes caught on Satoru, whose sunglasses were tilted slightly downwards. Your eyes nearly met, and you swiftly shifted your gaze towards Suguru. He really dragged you here, you thought. Poor Guru-san.

You watched as Satoru threw a generous wad of singles towards you. You refused to pick it up. 

It was a 10 minute set before you would go around and flirt with other customers. You eventually collected your earnings before you gracefully walked down the steps, flipping your hair.

“Candy~” The bastard called out towards you.

You didn’t want to turn around, but you did anyway, breasts bouncing full of bounty. 

“That’s for you,” he cheekily handed you a folded wad of cash. You felt the thickness of the money between your fingers. You almost wanted to give it back to him and walk away. Unfortunately, it was custom to lurk around customers who tipped that generously. Your eyes shifted towards Suguru, who had been subtly ogling your breasts.

“Thank you.” You smile plasticly, which you don’t normally do. You were typically and genuinely nice to customers. Most of them abided by the no touch rules and were decent.

“What brings you both here?” You say, leaning on the banister, breasts in full view.

“It’s my buddies birthday.” He grinned. “I wanted him to get a private dance with this weeks number one dancer, or Tasty, if she’s not too busy.”

Your eyes panned over to Suguru, who honestly didn’t look like he wanted a dance from you. You knew better though, not all customers were forward like that, so you didn’t take it personally whatsoever. You even contemplated going to get Tasty to take your place, but something in you made you want to dance near Satoru. Knowing you could rub your hot body in his face and he couldn’t touch you turned you on just a bit. You had no idea where this power complex of yours was stemming from. 

“Sure,” he had already paid you more than what the dance costed. “So do you wanna stay out here or go for a private one? I’m fine with whatever, baby.” 

You could’ve cringed at yourself, calling your childhood friend baby. You tucked the wad of cash into your body suit. There was enough money here to pay for either kind of dance, possibly two of them. 

“I’m good actually.” Suguru says, taking a seat on the sofa. Your eye twitches a bit, and you looks towards Satoru. 

“Sugu-chan’s just shy. He couldn’t stop talking about how good you looked.” The white haired male waved his hand. It must’ve been true, because the blush on Suguru’s face was something you could’ve burst out laughing at. Keep it together (Name), you thought.

He was so reserved and gentlemanly at work. You never would’ve guessed he could look this worked up about getting a dance from a beautiful woman. You sit beside him, crossing your legs. 

“If what he said is true, thank you. I’ve done my best to perfect that routine.” You said proudly, shifting your body towards him. “Do you really not want a dance?” You ask again, completely ignoring Satoru, who had been going on about something. 

Suguru shifted in his seat, and he was obviously trying not to look at your breasts when you squeezed them together with you arms like that. 

“I guess I wouldn’t mind one.” He breathed out. You smiled at him before standing up and spreading his legs a bit. You danced in between them, while he laid back and admired you. Satoru sat on the other end of the couch while another dancer attempted to make a pass at him. He accepted her offering, tipping her nicely as well. While she danced for him, you could feel his eyes burning a hole through your back.

You whipped your ass a round, graciously showing Suguru what you had going on. You were feeling mortified on the inside considering he was your childhood friend. However, he was undoubtedly good looking. A little part of you found some sort of sweet satisfaction showing yourself to him like this. He didn’t seem to know it was you, casually sipping while he watched you do your thing.

Your eyes met Satoru’s, who had been peering at you through the body of your fellow dancer. He could feel himself getting aroused at your womanly form, shifting in his seat. He found it hard to focus on the lap dance he was getting from the lovely woman in front of him. 

So this is what she’s really like, he thought to himself.

He had been staring for so long your were getting spooked. Did he realize it was you?

For God sake’s, please no.

He offered you a wink and smirked devilishly before going right back to giving his attention towards his current dancer. Your blindfold was your safety shield, and if he stripped that away from you, you would quit your day job and the go find work in a different club. 

After some time, you and your partner finished, receiving generous tips yet again. 

“Thank you Candy~” Satoru hummed, thanking you on Suguru’s behalf. You waved goodbye, before going towards a new set of customers. He never did stop staring at you that night. Not until you completely removed yourself from the floor. Once your shift was nearly over, and you needed a breather, you seeked refuge back in the prep room.

“I’m glad that’s over,” you sighed, sinking your body into one of many beauty chairs. You decided you had made enough money for the night, removing your blindfold and setting it down on the vanity. Tasty trailed in moments after, swooning excitedly.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, removing your earrings as well.

“I got the dark haired ones number.” Tasty squealed. You were happy for her, considering Suguru was always a decent guy growing up. 

“He’s not bad,” you throw your head back, throwing your hair out of your face.

“It’s the other one I’m particularly wary of.” You say, attempting to tie your hair into a ponytail. 

“Oh yeah! The white haired one told me to give this to you.” Tasty tore another piece of paper from her bralette. 

You stared at the folded strip between her fingertips before anxiously grasping it with your own. You unfolded the thing, eye twitching in agitation.

Call me, if you want ;) XXX-XXX-XXXX

This motherfucker.

[writersmilex]

Spike Wall.

Craig Jones X Reader

Summary: At a Meet and Greet event, (Y/n) gets a little uncomfortable with fans getting so close. Luckily Craig is there to assist.

Requested by: Anonymous.

(A/n) : i going to be honest with you, i have no idea what a meet and greet is supposed to look like.

_____________________________________

Craig can tell that (Y/n) is a little nervous, and there is nothing wrong with that of course. Being a good friend of Jones, (Y/n) has been a part of the band from the beginning he joined in. The whole band knows (Y/n), and they're allowed to come along to events that the band goes to. (Y/n) is a lot more talkative than Craig, and often speaks for him even.

Some fans are aware of (Y/n)'s existence as well. Known as 'the Supporter' by fans, a few have even approached them to ask them about the band once or twice.

~~~~

"you good (Y/n)?" Jim asks, noticing their nervousness as they stand there and fidget. "Yeah, I'm fine." (Y/n) half-lies, smiling at the guitarist. Craig pats (Y/n)'s shoulder reassuringly. They offer him a nervous smile. "stay cool, (Y/n) everything will be fine." The guitarist says to them. The Supporter sighs, "I'm just not a big fan of large crowds." They admit, looking at the buildings entrance where the fans will come flocking in at any moment. "it's not so bad once you get used to it." Corey pipes in and Craig nods in agreement at the statement. (Y/n) nods at the two men, it's just something that they have to get used too or else that they'll never get over their nervousness. The band and (Y/n) gather around and wait for the fans to arrive.

Not soon after the doors open, and people start to walk in, gathering around the band and await their turn to say hello. (Y/n) decides to stand a bit in the background, letting the band get all the attention, for the fans are there for them anyway. "Hey." a person called out. (Y/n) didn't react at first, thinking at they were calling someone for someone else. "Excuse me." the person called out once again, now getting (Y/n) attention. They snap out of their day-dream and look into the direction of the noise.

A woman with blond hair and wearing a Slipknot t-shirt walks up to them with a smile. "you're 'The Supporter', right?" she asks politely. (Y/n) tilts their head quizzically. "is that what I'm called? Well yes I am, I guess." they are unsure of how to react to this entirely new situation.

The fan beams, "what you're doing is so great! Must be lucky to be associated with the band that closely." she comments, looking at (Y/n) with a hopeful smile.

"uhh. I don't really think about it that way." (Y/n) answers and shrugs. The fan nods in understanding. "so do you have a number like the rest of them?" she just keeps on with the questions. For (Y/n) it just feels strange to get fawned over like this.

"err... No I, don't. But if. I'd ever get a number it would probably be number 10." (Y/n) responds. Actually getting a it uncomfortable now. This girl is making them nervous.

"can you sign this for me please?"she says and holds out a picture of Slipknot, with (Y/n) standing at the side. (Y/n) takes a haste step back in surprise. Why would this girl want the autograph of someone much less popular than the band itself?! The fan takes a step closer. "Why-why would you want to sign something?" (Y/n) stammers,  holding their hands up to keep the girl from coming closer. ~~~~ Craig didn't have long conversations with fans, for he doesn't interact with them vocally, merely shaking hands and people trying to get him to talk. He could only grin in amusement inside his mask when fans try to coax a noise out of him. He hasn't seen his friend (Y/n) in a while now. He even thought they had left, but (Y/n) is not one to leave an event without saying anything. He look around, scanning the crowded room for any of (Y/n) distinctive features that he could recognize from afar. Over there! In the far back, he spots (Y/n) talking to a female fan. They didn't look very comfortable talking to this girl. Perhaps the fan is a little too excited and standing a little too close for (Y/n)'s comfort. He can relate to that, although he had grown accustomed to it by now. In-fact he knows that every fan-base has many overbearing fans. But (Y/n) is not familiar to the popularity yet, or how to deal with fans. So, Craig will be there to help them. He maneuvers him through the crowd of people to approach (Y/n) and the fan. "I...I'm not sure." (Y/n) stammers, pushing the female fan's hands that hold the picture away from themselves "Come on, please." The fan begs. pushing against (Y/n) hands. The fan is suddenly met with a hand wearing a finger-less glove, stopping the girl from talking to (Y/n). Craig pushes himself in between the other two people. Standing in front of (Y/n) and guarding them. "Oh my god Craig!" The fan beams. her pearly smile so bright you could need sunglasses to look directly at her. Craig wags his finger at her, as if scolding her. He snatches the picture from the fan's hands, takes a pen and signs it, then handing it back to her. She seem happy with what she received from one of her idols, thanks him and skips away. (Y/n) let's out a sigh of relief, patting the middle of their chest of calm their rapid beating heart. The sampler puts a hand on their shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of their shirt to help them calm down. He points to the back, pulling at their shoulder to guide them to the back outside. ~~~~ Once Craig and (Y/n) are outside, (Y/n) leans against the wall and take a deep breath of fresh air. "Thanks Craig." (Y/n) pants, looking at him with a tired smile. He puts a thumb up. Then reaches over to pat their shoulder again. "man, i really gotta get used to crowds or i'll never get used to anything." (Y/n) complains, scolding themselves for having trouble with crowd. Craig waves his hand dismissively, as if to say that it'll come eventually. Then he pats their shoulder a bit more roughly, forming a triumphant fist with his hand, to encourage them. "Yeah, you're right. I just gotta keep trying." (Y/n) says, understanding what the sampler is trying to say. After (Y/n) has calmed down completely, they push themselves off the wall. "Okay i'm ready to go back." They say, tone of voice filled with courage. The sampler envelopes (Y/n) into a hug. Making sure that he doesn't stab them with the spikes of his mask. (Y/n) happily hugs their friend back, a bright smile on their face. The two friends let go of each other and move back inside, Craig's hand on their back. 'just gotta keep trying.' _____________________________________ Craig sounds like a good friend :D Thanks for reading. - Missalot.

[ickymichi]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.

a tendou satori x reader series.

✟ there’s always been the one rule every person who’s been in a band knows not to break, never mess around with your band mates. but Satori was sick of the groupies, sick of catching the bra’s and panties that were flung at him every night. he just wanted the one thing he couldn’t have.

✟ warnings: swearing, eventual smut, eventual angst(?), drug use, inappropriate themes, comedy.

✟ things to know: band au!, some timeskip careers mentioned, slow updates.

✟ if you’d like to be added to the taglist just send an ask! <3

✟ word count: 1.8k

✟ note: first actual chapter of this series! it’s nothing big but obviously i wanted to get something written for this series! but i hope you enjoy my dears! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

all contents belongs to k1ttykawa 2021. please do not repost or modify on this or any other platform.

.:previous:.

.:next:.

.:masterlist:.

𝟎𝟎𝟐:. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬

The bright lights and screams from the small crowd in the underground venue was what brings you back down from the high you’re always on whenever you sit on the small bouncing stool behind the drum set on stages every second or third night. You heard Semi thanking everyone for coming and whatever shit he always says. Once you seen him bow and Tendou go to pick up the collection of bra’s and panties thrown on stage, you raised a hand and threw one of the drumsticks into the crowd, your own way of saying goodbye before making your way offstage. Semi and Tendou’s tall frames following behind, the same order as always.

The sweat was pouring out of you, tonight being more of a wilder one than the usual calm sets you’ve been having in bars or party’s recently. they were easy money, but they got boring after just a few hours. so all three of you were in desperate need of a night like tonight.

Turning the corner of the small, dark corridor to your dressing room for tonight you were met with the stench of weed, 3 different girls on the beat up leather couch, a rolled joint in one of the girls hands and white lines on a tray to the others left. Like always, you went straight to the showers to get the scent of sweat and fake smoke of you.

You really don’t know when but the cropped black tank top you had on was ripped down one side but your usual headband you sported every show was missing and it now became you new priority to track it down. “Satori! Where the fuck is my headband?” you stomped back out to see the wanted man desperately trying to pull the tight leather pants down his lanky legs. His head was whipped up to at the sound of your annoyed voice and then quickly darted his eyes over to the blonde that had previously rolled the joints and was now fawning over semi and his revealed tattoos. “oi” was all you muttered out behind her and holding out your empty hand—also noting some of your rings were gone. She turned her head to you with a scowl covering her features, which also revealed your missing accessory that caused your distress. “that’s her bandana and she’s quite obviously looking for it back,” Tendou quipped in making every one bar the girl laugh. After time, she untied it from the back and forcefully placed it back in your hand. Dramatically you held your arm, acting as if she pained you, tendou again laughing with you.

Finally you were able to hop into the shower and quickly get your self freshened and rub the accesses makeup off your eyes that was already smudged from your constant wiping, trying to stop the sweat dripping from your hairline.

“(y/n)!! please help me out of these, semisemi just keeps fucking laughing!” the peace and quiet you had was quickly interrupted by Tendou’s loud whining. “how the fuck am I not supposed to laugh when your walking around with them swinging around your ankles and your dick hanging out?” “what, Its out?!”

The large door separating the bathroom from the connected dressing room swung open and revealed Satori with his leathers pooled at his ankles and— surprising his dick not actually ‘hanging out’. “please help me sugartits, they’re fucking stuck even with my skinny ankles,” he hopped onto the counter and held his legs up for you to guide them off him. “well for starters, take your fucking shoes off!, and also I swear i saw these in the women’s section of some online store?” jokingly you shouted at him and moved to untie the doc martin’s around his feet. “yeah? You probably did, stole them from that chick that wouldn’t stop hanging off me last month,” both of you laughing at his silliness and falling into a comfortable silence.

The only noise was the voices off the others in the separate room and a recognisable Mötley Crüe song shaking the floor from the stage.

“what you think of tonight then?” the silence being broken by Satori like usual. “uhhh, it was definitely something but yeah, it was fun. Its nice to have a night like that every now and then, specially since we’ve just been in bars doing the same covers for the past two weeks. What about you huh?” he hummed, a noise of agreement showing he was listening, a habit you grew to learn. “I guess it was good fun yeah, although I didn’t appreciate nearly getting hit with a dildo within the first two songs. But I agree, it’s nice to do our own shit and not covers in a bar with a bunch of middle age boring shits. I think we’ve another show that’ll probably be like this again on Saturday.”

Saturday, today was Thursday so you’ve a nice day or two to just lie around, the other probably filled with travelling and setting up.

After about 10 minutes you had unlaced both his boots and chucked them onto the floor and not too long later his ‘borrowed’ pants joined them. “thanks chicken, lifesaver as always,” he pulled you into an embrace with one arm before leaving to find his spare clothes in the other room. He did always have the weirdest nicknames.

The night bled into the early hours of the morning, Semi and Tendou both getting their share of the girls there while you kicked your feet up, sparking up a conversation and passing the joints with your friend Taichi who was also your ‘manager’, he wasn’t really he just acted like it when venues would ask important questions and tagged along for the free show and nights at different clubs.

He was also the one who suggested you start moving to the motel down the street for the night before the venue boots you all out. Quickly you agreed, not fancying seeing any more glimpses of your friends and strangers body parts. Obviously the girls whined to the boys, asking if they could come, saying it’s dangerous for girls to walk home alone at night, “sorry ladies, but we’ll be sharing a bed tonight and I don’t fancy getting an unwanted facial on a Thursday night,” you butted into their persuasive conversation by wrapping an arm around the boys from the back of the couch and giving a friendly smile.

By the time you all got your equipment packed away and into the van it was nearing 4:30 in the morning and you, quite literally we’re going to fall into the bed. It wasn’t the nicest of places but you were just spending tonight and the next two there, unless you decided to go out after the shows and find some rando’s condo to spend the night in. All three of you pushed your way into the small room trying to get the edges of the double bed. And it wasn’t easy trying to squeeze through two 6’2 lean men, resulting in you again stuck in the middle of them staring at the blank roof, desperately waiting for the sun to rise so you could find some place to get food and away from the mess of limbs under the covers.

When you did wake up it felt like you’d only slept for two hours, when in reality it had been about 10. The afternoon sun melting through the old curtains and falling into your pillow. As you moved to see what had finally woke you from the deep sleep you saw Semi at the small table, his guitar resting on his knees and his worn, nimble fingers scribbling words on his notebook he kept for when lyrics would come to him.

“mornin’ early bird,” all you could let out was a groan, your mind still coming to its senses. “there’s food n’ shit there Satori went out to get it, we was the first up, surprisingly,” he breathed out the last remark before moving to pick up the red pencil and get back to writing lyrics before they left his head.

The food that Tendou got was still warm so he must’ve of been up long before you anyway. “where is he?” “beats me, probably wandering round like always,” quickly he responded and took the pic from between his teeth and started strumming a tune while humming, what you were guessing, was the lyrics on the page.

Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you pulled your phone from where it was connected to the wall by the charger and found Satori’s contact and pressed the call icon, moving away from the sound of Eita and his guitar you went to go outside and sit on the bench outside your rooms window.

“hello, hello,” his ever cheerful voice filled the speakers of your phone that was wedged between your shoulder and ear. “hey, I was just calling to see where you are that’s all,” you piped up when he went quiet, tutting when you realised you were out of cigarettes. “oh you know, just out sightseeing ‘tis all,” “cool cool, well i’m going to the store now you need anything?” he hummed into the phone, indicating that he was thinking of something he needed. “just cigs I guess and get me that drink I like while there, i’ll pay you later,” bidding him goodbye as the small shop on the corner came into view you slipped your phone into your sweatpants pocket and walked to the back where they kept the energy drinks.

Exiting the shop with everything you needed you walked to make your way back till you saw a familiar head of red locks across the street and quickly, but quietly made your way to his figure.

Sneaking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his middle, feeling his ribs press into your arms, something you’ve noted recently. He sucked air into his lungs and jumped slightly before laughing with you. “here you go your highness,” was how you greeted him and chucked him his requested items. “thanks muffincake, i’ll pay you back later I swear,” you scoffed and shook his offer off, suggesting you stroll around the city until Semi called either of you to ‘get your sorry asses back to the room’.

Your stroll progressed into a very long walk and by the time Satori suggested you head back with an arm around your shoulder it was already dark, the night life staring to come out of hiding. eyeing a club across the street you thought might be a good shout to visit in case you three got bored tonight, making a mental note of its location.

“Didn’t Semisemi say we need to go over the set list again cause, someone, messed up last night,” a sing-song voice dragged you out of your club browsing and brought a scowl to your face. “excuse me, you’re the one who told me we were doing ‘nasty’ after the interlude, prick,” he pulled his chin up and started to ‘think’ about your accusation before loudly dubbing it false; “nope, I don’t recall doing such a thing. I could never, but if it boots your already sky high ego then, of course I did my dearest apologies baby cakes,” “do you ever shut up,” “when i’m face first in pus-” “Don’t even!”

t a g l i s t: @evan-rose @elianetsantana @weebintheinternet @kuroos-roosterhead

please lmk if i missed you if your not there! <3

[desi-lgbt-fest]

Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

[ray-jaykub]

Headcanons on what the turtles would do with their pregnant s/o ? And how would they react when they are in labor?

I know nothing about pregnancy 😕 but i will try... also i rewatched the 2016 movie and like... leonardo and his hot ass voice gotdamn

Leonardo:

•He has always fawned over the idea of children, always wanting a few ninjas of his own to train like his dear old dad. Never thought he would live to see the day of being a father but here he was!

•Y'know the dorky thing dads do where they put their heads to the s/o's tummy and just... talk to the baby, like it understands? Leo does that before bed EVERY night and before patrol Every night.

•Leonardo is pretty basic with name calling, pretty sure he got it out of a baby book. If it's a boy=Caleb if it's a girl=Renae. He was lucky to get the name leonardo instead of something weird like gilbert or something so he wants to make it easy for his kids

•He's like that really calm, stoic oersin when you're in labour but as soon as Donatello asks if he wants to see the baby crowning he fucking faints. Like dead, raphael had to catch him before he broke something. When he sees that baby though... oh he'll sob. Yeah he's crying real heavy, he just really loves you and the baby.

Raphael:

•This shit was not planned. Technically he knocked you up after a real bed breaking night and turns out it was just one of those days your genes become compatible. He's both scared out of his wits and more in love with you all at the same time and it's hard for him to get his duckies in order.

•Speaking of duckies, he totally decorates the baby room. Got pale green walls up and helped donatello make the furniture (although he broke many pieces in the process of making a crib) Raph will scavenge for toys and clean them up for the little tyke too

•His naming skills are a little better then leo's, nothing unique persay but just things that sounded like strong names. If it's a boy= Malikai and if it's a girl= Anastasia (yes because of the movie)

•When you go into labour he's really gentle and patient because he doesn't want you yelling at him. Raphael cannot handle mommy anger like any other parent in the room. It is scary, you are scary, but he loves you so he'll wait by your side. And when it's his turn to hold the baby it's like the first time in his entire life... Raphael is finally at peace

Donatello:

•Hell this motherfucker probably tested you himself. So 9 times outta 10 you both figur out at the same time. Doesn't mean he isn't jumping and hollering with joy though. Literally sprints to Master Splinter first thing to tell him the wonderful news. You will walk in on two wonderful men hugging and crying with eachother and then you'll start crying and it is such a mess

•Brags about the baby. Every chance he gets he will make dad jokes and show the little black and white pictures to everyone that'll let him talk about it. Always talking about how big the babies getting and what y'all are gonna name it. If it's a boy= nethaniel and if it's a girl= Melanie

•He makes toys and furniture for the baby and it's all decked out. Galaxy mobile? Check! Toys that stimulate the babies beautiful mind? Absolutely! Donnie won't expect his child to be a genius like him but he does pray for that chance

•Donatello has been with you through the entire process. From check-uos to throw-ups, he was there. So it would be the greatest honour to deliver your baby. He isn't grossed out by this stuff, he's done his homework and now he's ready. *Cue the panicked screaming as he tries to get ahold of your baby* Donnie will be the first to hold the baby and you'll have to snap him out of it if you want them. He's just so fascinated...

Michelangelo:

•Panic. He's panicking. Mikey is pretty sure he'd be the last person on earth for someone to want a baby with. Hell, he doesn't want a baby with himself! Literally has an anxiety attack, you gotta comfort and soothe this sweet turt because he will need you every step of the way.

•After everything has cooled down, and mikey has gained some of his confidence back, he is instantly on board. What was he thinking? He's amazing with kids... he thinks? Either way please please please let him name your children, you won't regret it. If it's a boy= Jax or calum if it's a girl= Blair or Anaith    (forgive him he can't pick just one)

•Looks through all his really old shit to pick out some books and a blanket for the baby. Mikey has to admit that he kept this stuff with him in the hopes of being a daddy so you can imagine the smile that nearly splits his face in half. He is constantly complimenting you throughout the pregnancy, making sure you don't feel down for a second and that what you're going through is natural... even if your farts crack glass 

•The only brother whose really chill and cool during the labour and birthing process. Like he's hyped himself up for this sinse the beginning and he ain't backing down now. He'll obviously let you hold the baby first but when he gets them and they open there eye to show bright sapphires he just never wants to let go, he recalls it being almost euphoric

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Green-Eyed Monster (Ethan x MC)

Summary: During a fundraising event for Edenbrook, Ethan’s jealousy gets the better of him.

Warning: NSFW!! 18+

Author’s Note: I wrote this 3 times. I hope you enjoy

2nd Author’s Note: Ethan is canonically rich. And I like reminding y’all of that fact.

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @lion-ess24 @contrerascecile @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey

~v~

The ballroom of the Four Seasons is lit beautifully, the Dom Perignon is flowing freely, and he has some sort of fancy crab cake in his hand, but Ethan couldn’t care less about any of it.

He hates parties. That’s not a secret, everyone knows it and he’s always been vocal about it. The board thought getting all of Boston’s elite hoarded into one room was a sure fire way to get them to open their pockets. And by the looks of it, it is working. But Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the pomp, the circumstance, the luxury of this ball, or the money that went into it.

He has eyes one one thing, and one thing only. Or, one woman only. Naomi Valentine.

There aren’t enough words in any of the languages he’s fluent in to describe the way she looks. Her normally curly hair is bone straight, falling right down her back, a few strands tucked behind her ears. He likes it like this, his view of her face unobstructed.

And her dress. Scarlet red, downright sinful, the neckline so deep and plunging, it shouldn’t be legal to wear it in public, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

He’s been quietly observing her all evening, watching as various men - and some women - fawned over her, flirted with her, flaunting their wealth, as if she cared about any of it. The only thing Naomi wants is for these people to write checks and save their place of employment.

She danced with politicians, attorneys, trust fund babies, real estate developers, the works. She’s currently swaying on the dance floor with some guy, though he can she’s not into the dance. The mystery man is talking, but he’s not holding her attention, not in the slightest.

But the mystery man makes a mistake. Ethan watches as his hand slides down her back, landing on the swell of her behind. Not wanting to cause a scene, Naomi simply twists out of his grasp.

Naomi has the situation under control. He sees that clearly, but Ethan doesn’t care. He doesn’t like that someone else is touching her, especially so intimately. Anger swells in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t stop him himself, even though he knows he should. He gets up from his seat at the bar, leaving the tiny crab cake, and marches over to where they’re at.

Wanting to make his presence known, Ethan clears his throat. The action garners Naomi’s attention and she stops dancing.

“Ethan!” She exclaims brightly. “How nice to see you.”

“Rookie,” Ethan greets back, purposely ignoring the man she’s standing next to. “Care to dance?”

“She’s a little busy, pal!” Ethan hears the man talking, his shrill voice a nuisance in Ethan’s ear, but still he pays it no mind.

Naomi is nicer than him though. She smiles at the other gentleman politely. “I’ll save a dance for you, Carl! And you can tell me all about your new yacht.”

That seems to do the trick as the man steps aside and walks off.

Ethan holds out a hand for Naomi, which she eagerly accepts. They begin swaying in time to the music. “You looked like you needed a save. That guy was too handsy.”

“I was managing him just fine, but thank you anyway,” Naomi replies. “He was just so dull. Most of these people are.”

“I’d never know it by looking at you. You have a much better poker face than I do.”

“I grew up around people like this. I know how they operate. Give them a few well-placed compliments, and they’re putty in your hands.”

Ethan doesn’t have a reply for her. He just holds her close, vaguely aware of their surroundings. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Red looks good on you.”

“It happens to be my boyfriend’s favorite color,” Naomi explains, her hand mindlessly stroking the back of Ethan’s tuxedo jacket. “I wanted something to really wow him tonight. Do you think it’s working?”

“Oh you have no idea how well your plan is working, Rookie.”

She pulls back only slightly, looking at Ethan’s face. His blue eyes have grown darker. “I think I have some idea the effect I have on him.”

Three months. It’s been three months since that fateful night at Ethan’s apartment where he kissed her. After that, the doctors decided to see if their mutual attraction towards one another was worth exploring.

And while no one else knows of the relationship, opting to keep it just between them for as long as they could, Naomi and Ethan had never been happier.

“You look so beautiful tonight, and every guy in here is ogling you.”

“Ogling?” Naomi rolls her eyes. Ethan could be so dramatic when he wanted.

“Yes, ogling. I’m not a fan of it.”

“Well, you’re going to absolutely hate what happens later,” Naomi says with a sigh.

“Why, what happens later?”

“The auction.” Naomi swallows hard. “I’m one of the doctors participating in the people auction.”

“What?”

“My friends all volunteered, and they signed me up as well. I couldn’t say no, they all think I’m single and it’d just raise too many questions.”

Ethan frowns. The thought of these rich scumbags fighting over a chance to take his girlfriend out on a date didn’t sit well with him. It was annoying enough not being the only one she danced with throughout the evening.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Naomi continues. “But they sprung it on me yesterday, and I knew you would be upset. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He sighs. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want anyone else getting a chance to wine and dine you.”

“You worried I’m going to leave you for one of these pretentious bores?” Naomi smiles, teasingly. “You know better than anyone that rich and old happens to be my type.”

Ethan’s hand travels down the small of her back, and he feels her shudder under his featherlight touch. “What did I tell you about calling me old, Naomi?”

“I like seeing you jealous,” Naomi continues.

“Is that right? Was that your plan all along, to make me envious of the other people here tonight?”

She shakes her head. “No, it happens to be an unintended outcome of the evening, but I’m happy nonetheless.”

Without warning, Ethan pulls Naomi flush against him. A quiet groan escapes her upon contact with him. She looks around to see if anyone heard anything. Thankfully, everyone else is too wrapped up in their own dancing.

Ethan lowers his head close to her ear, just to make sure no one else is listening. His breath is warm on her neck and he feels her shift her weight from one foot to the other, squirming. “I’m really tired of sharing you.”

“Oh, really?” Ethan can hear the challenge in her tone. “Well, there’s still a few more hours left in the evening. I think you can be a team player until then.”

“But I don’t want to be a team player.” His hand is on her hip, squeezing so fiercely through her dress, Naomi is sure she’s going to bruise. She likes it. “You, in this god forsaken dress, waltzing around here with men that would kill for even 5 minutes alone with you? How ever will I survive?”

“You’re a patient man,” Naomi says. “You’ll manage.”

Ethan spins Naomi away from him, and she twirls back into his arms. The song that’s playing reaches its crescendo, and he can tell it’ll be over soon. “I won’t. I want you all to myself.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you, all alone with me, in our room,” Ethan whispers.

Naomi surprised him earlier, getting them a suite for the evening. She knew that with all the drinking they’d be doing, driving home was going to be impossible. Plus, it’d be a fun little retreat, a romantic night for just the two of them.

“I want you out of this dress,” Ethan continues. “I want you under me, writhing uncontrollably.”

“Ethan…”

“Saying my name, just like that. Or louder, I’m not a picky man.”

Thank God he’s holding her, because her knees are buckling. Liquid heat pools in the pit of her stomach, and she rests her head on Ethan’s shoulder. She pants hard, trying to keep her composure. They’re in a crowded room, full of colleagues and Boston’s most influential residents, and she’s getting dizzy with desire.

“That sounds fun.”

“You think you can make it upstairs in 10 minutes?” Ethan asks. The song ends and he steps back, letting Naomi go. She wobbles slightly, adjusting to standing on her own two feet.

Once she’s steady, Naomi clears her throat and locks eyes with the man in front of her. “I’ll meet you there in 7.”

~v~

Naomi makes it to their suite in 6 minutes, tops. As soon as she saw him swagger out of the ballroom like the smug jackass that he is, she grabbed another champagne flute and quickly downed it, letting the bubbles coat her tongue. Once she’s done with that, she makes her own exit and heads off to meet Ethan.

Their suite is lovely, with a gorgeous view of Boston Common. On any other day, Naomi would be able to appreciate that, but not now. 

She pushes open the double doors to their bedroom, and she finds Ethan. He’s staring out the window thoughtfully, but her entrance gains his attention.

He checks his watch with a smirk. “You got here sooner than I anticipated.”

“What can I say? You were down there making some pretty hefty claims. I had to see if you were really going to put your money where your mouth is.”

“I plan on putting my mouth on a lot of different places, Rookie.” Ethan shrugs off his tuxedo jacket, tossing it onto a nearby chair and he loosens the cuffs of his shirt. Slowly, he walks over to the large king-sized bed and sits casually. Crooking a finger, he summons Naomi over, and she nearly trips over herself in a rush to be near him.

Neither one of them speaks as Ethan silently appraises his girlfriend, figuring out where to start first.

He picks her feet, and he bends down, his fingers reaching her ankle where the shoes are strapped. “How attached are you to these shoes?”

Of all the things he could’ve said, that wasn’t what she was expecting. “W-what?”

“I’m trying to figure out how much care I should exercise with them,” Ethan explains.

“They’re Aquazzura and they cost me $800. If you break the strap or the heel, I can’t be held responsible for whatever harm comes your way.”

“Even if I replace them?”

“Even then.”

“Fair enough.” Ethan carefully unbuckles her heels and she steps out of them. He trails a finger up and down the back of her calf, reveling in the softness of her skin before looking up at her. “Take off your dress.”

“You don’t want to do the honors?”

“Trust me, I do. But if I get my hands on it, I can’t promise that I won’t rip it off of you.”

Naomi’s very tempted to let him do just that, but she reaches around and unzips it herself. It falls to the floor in one fell swoop, and she steps out of it.

The dress didn’t call for a bra, so Ethan is rewarded with an uninterrupted view of her. He sucks in a deep breath at the sight. Naomi in that dress was a vision, but this is her in his favorite form.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her thong and he slides it down. She does the rest of the work and impatiently kicks it away.

And now she’s just standing here, stark naked, subject to his piercing gaze while he’s still fully dressed. The obviousness of the power dynamic makes her shift uncomfortably.

Ethan grabs her hips and pulls her forward, so she can straddle his lap. His hands find her face and he cradles it. “You’re so beautiful.” His mouth crashes against hers, not allowing her the chance to reply to the compliment. 

Naomi grabs hold of his shoulders in order to not fly backwards due to sheer force. Ethan set an undeniable tone. Urgent, hot, demanding. His hands keep her in place, locked in the sensual embrace. Not that she’d ever willingly leave his arms, now or ever.

His tongue invades her mouth, clashing with her own and he groans. He can still taste the champagne on her, something light and bubbly. It’s intoxicating.

All too soon, Ethan breaks the kiss, leaving Naomi breathless and buzzing with energy. His hands leave her face and roam freely, exploring.

“I have a challenge for you,” he says, his lips finding the column of her neck.

He sucks on her pulse, and she finds it hard to concentrate. “Huh?”

“I want you to stay quiet. Absolutely no sounds.”

“I thought you wanted me saying your name.”

“You will,” Ethan assures her, and the promise makes her stomach clench. “But right now I want you to be quiet.”

“And if I don’t keep quiet?” Naomi challenges. Ethan cups one of her breasts in the palm of his hand and squeezes, the pad of his thumb circling her nipple.

“Then you don’t get to cum. I go back downstairs and I leave you here like this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

With a raised eyebrow, Ethan pulls at her nipple, twisting it between his thumb and index finger. Naomi gasps. “Are you willing to challenge me on that?”

Naomi’s head is fuzzy but she swallows hard. She nods, not willing to test him on this front. “Fine. I’ll be quiet.”

Ethan smiles. “Good.” He kisses her with a renewed energy and his unoccupied hand travels down to her thigh, his nails scraping against the flesh. 

Naomi bucks in his lap. She’s shaking and her fingers are digging into his shoulders. The anticipation of what he’s going to do is killing her and she’s almost afraid to breathe.

His finger slides between her thighs teasingly, and before she gets a chance to respond, Ethan slides a single digit between her folds. It catches her by surprise and she gasps.

Ethan tsks one disapproval. “Silence, Naomi.”

Fuck you, she thinks, but she obeys regardless. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades and she tries her hardest to stay quiet.

He moves at an unnaturally slow pace, not allowing Naomi to settle into a rhythm. Any other time, she’d spur him on. “Harder, deeper, more,” is what she wants to say, but he’s cursed her with silence. Instead she buries her face in the crook of his neck.

Ethan continues his torture, enjoying the view. A hot and bothered Naomi is a sight unrivaled, and he’d keep her like this forever if it was possible. He can feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, all the muscles in her thighs and abdomen tight with the effort it’s taking to keep quiet.

He adds another finger and groans. “Fuck, Rookie. You feel so good. So tight, so wet, and all for me.” 

She needs to breathe. Her lungs are tight, her chest heaving against his, but he has her walking a tightrope right now, and one false move can end it all.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Ethan continues, the rough pad of his thumb sliding against once, twice, three times. “And you’re all mine. How did I get so lucky?”

Naomi’s skin flushes furiously. He knows she’s has kink for him talking during sex. On their volition her hips rise and fall, rise and fall, trying to keep pace with him. As soon as she does, his fingers slow down, dragging her from the edge of ecstasy, before speeding up again.

He does this repeatedly, the randomness of his movements making her head spin. Every nerve in her body is on fire, and she can feel the pressure building in the pit of her stomach.

So close, so close, don’t stop, plays in her head on a continuous loop as Ethan keeps working against her. The pressure builds, a heat settling in her veins and before she can stop herself a quiet, “Yes,” slips past her lips.

The energy in the room changed instantly. Ethan stills his fingers, then removes them, and Naomi feels the panic bubbling up and she pulls back to look Ethan in the eye.

“Oh, Naomi,” Ethan frowns.

“Don’t stop.”

“You violated the deal, Rookie. You were supposed to be quiet.”

She could cry in this moment, the frustration too much to bear.

“And you were doing so good,” Ethan adds, kissing the side of her head. “You were so close, weren’t you?” He toys with her, his finger sliding up and down her slit, doing nothing more than teasing her entrance.

When she’s back to herself, and not the ridiculous mess of flesh and lust that he’s reduced her to, she’s going to fucking kill him.

A whimper is pulled from her throat when his fingers plunge into her again.

“Come on, Naomi, I’m allowing you to use your words. Tell me how close you are. Let me know how badly you want to cum. You’re right there.”

Naomi really doesn’t not want to give him the satisfaction of begging, stroking his ridiculous ego, but there’s no room for foolish pride when your boyfriend has his hand between your legs.

She moans, broken and terse. Now that she’s finally allowed to talk again, words escape her.

“Please…” is the only speech she’s finally able to muster up. Groundbreaking.

“Please, what? What do you want me to do to you?” His finger thrusts into her again without warning, slow and languid. “Do you want me to do more of this?”

“Yes! Ethan, please dontfuckingstop!” She’s not sure if the words are coherent, but she doesn’t care. She got them out, and that’s what matters.

Ethan smiles, his mission accomplished. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The teasing doesn’t register because all Naomi can focus on is the pounding of her pulse, the feeling of his hands, the smell of his cologne. She can feel it building again, the fire deep in her core. She’s so close. So cl–

He stops. Again. This time, he wraps an arm around the small of her back and flips them, Naomi’s back hitting the soft down comforter dramatically.

Now she wants to scream at him. “Ethan, I seriously cannot–”

Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to chastise him because in a flash, he’s dropped to his knees, his hands on her ankles pulling her forward on the bed with an unexpected roughness.

“Be as loud as you want now, Naomi. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

His beard scrapes against her inner thigh, and god, she’s glad she convinced him to keep it. Slowly his tongue darts out, flattening against her folds.

Her hips fly off the bed against her will, arching to meet his mouth. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Naomi pulls, keeping him in place. “Fuck!”

The expletive works as encouragement and Ethan continues this work, his tongue alternating between expertly lapping at her folds and flicking against her clit. Naomi grips his hair tighter, earring a deep growl from Ethan. The vibration alone is enough to send her flying.

“Please, right there,” Naomi begs. If he kept it up just a little while longer, she’d finally get to taste the release he’s denied her.

His fingers nudge at her entrance again, sliding in with ease, and lips wrap around her swollen nub and he sucks hard, and that’s all it takes.

Her orgasm is something that’s long and drawn out, a culmination of teasing, anticipation and sheer relief. Her entire body goes tense as the sensation holds her in a vice grip, and then finally, she relaxes, falling back onto the bed.

“You okay?”

She can’t tell if Ethan’s genuinely asking or if he’s being cocky. It doesn’t matter either way. “I’m dead. You killed me. RIP Naomi.”

“Yeah?”

Naomi nods. “Yeah.”

“Good. Because we’re just getting started, Valentine.”

Ethan stands up and quickly unbuttons his shirt, letting it slide to the floor next to her dress. Next are his shoes and pants. Any other time, Naomi would be right there with him, on him liking a second skin, helping him get rid of the clothes, but every bone in her body feels like it’s been replaced with Jell-O. She’s content just watching this time around.

He slides his boxer-briefs off, not intentionally putting on a show, but Naomi can’t help but stare. For all the compliments he pays her, Ethan, naked and painfully hard with arousal for her and her alone, is a masterpiece.

In a flash, he’s all over her, his hands interlocking with hers above her head, pressing her into the mattress. Ethan captures her in a heated kiss the moment he enters her, swallowing whatever guttural sound she was going to make.

His thrusts start out slow and measured, but they quickly grow more frenzied as his control over the situation slips. Naomi arches, desperate to meet his pace, but she’s crushed under him, pretty much immobile.

Needing to do something, Naomi swings her thigh over him, the heel of her foot pressing into his lower back. The pressure forces him deeper, something she didn’t think was possible.

Her head snaps back pressing further into the mattress and Ethan takes advantage, his mouth finding purchase on the exposed skin, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck before sinking his teeth in, biting down hard before soothing the flesh with his tongue.

That’s going to leave a mark, but that’s nothing Naomi can bring herself to care about because the mix of pain and pleasure is heady and all-consuming.

The obnoxious bite is a sign. He wants to claim her, mark his territory. She knows he has a possessive streak, but this is new.7

“Ethan, oh god.”

She can feel him smirking against her, and his thrusts pick up in tempo once more. “Say it again,” he demands, groaning into her skin.

“Ethan,” Naomi repeats, her voice going up an octave. He’s about to make her cum again, she can feel it.

He frees her hands, and while she enjoyed the intimacy of the position, she’s glad to be free. Her hands roam, one gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, the other digging into his shoulder blade. His hands grip her hips, somehow pulling her even closer. 

“How close are you?” Ethan asks, his voice gruff.

“V-very.”

The thrusts become sloppier as they both chase the inevitable release. Soon the only sounds that can be heard are their shallow breaths and their slick skin colliding against each other.

Fire floods Ethan’s veins and he reaches between them, pinching at her bundle of nerves once more. A pleasant growl settles in his chest at the way she clenches around him.

“Let go, Naomi,” Ethan demands. “Right now.”

The command is more than enough to send her over the edge again, her body tensing, toes curling. She comes undone with a silent cry, her nails piercing into the skin of his back.

Her release triggers his own. It doesn’t take much, one more deep thrust and he moans, spilling inside of her, hot and urgent.

He rolls off of her and Naomi inhales deeply, not realizing just how crushing his weight was. Neither one of them says anything for a while, just trying to catch their breath and get their heart rates back down.

“Fuck,” Naomi says, still shaky and breathless. She turns her head and looks at Ethan with a smirk. “I should get you jealous more often.”

~v~

The couple takes their time getting dressed again, not yet ready to go back downstairs. They lazed around in bed for a while before taking the world’s quickest shower and searching for their clothes that are scattered around the suite.

“How long have we been gone?” Naomi asks, sliding on her shoes.

“Too long.”

“I know my friends are wondering where the hell I am.”

“I’m sure you’ll find an excuse.”

 “Of course. I’m nothing if not quick on my feet.” Naomi turns around and sees Ethan readjusting his bow tie in the mirror. She walks over and leans into his side. “Is it bad that I just want to stay up here with you?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“What if I want to tempt you?”

Ethan groans and drops a kiss onto the side of Naomi’s head. “You little seductress. Don’t you have an auction to be a part of?”

“About that, I wasn’t thinking. If you’re really uncomfortable, I won’t do it.”

Ethan dismisses the statement with a hand wave. “Nonsense. You’re a big girl, I trust you, and if you want to do it, you should. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to make this hospital a lot of money.”

“Okay.” She spins around and poses dramatically. “How do I look?

“Like you just got thoroughly ravished by your boyfriend. Absolutely perfect.”

Naomi makes it back down to the ballroom by herself. It’s later in the evening, so more people are out on the dance floor, and the drinks are still flowing.

Sienna is the first one to spot her. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. Were you getting any of my texts?”

“Sorry, Si. I haven’t checked my phone all night.”

“Where the heck have you been?” She asks.

Naomi shrugs, noncommittal. “Wandering around mostly. This hotel is huge, I almost got lost.”

“What happened to your hair?”

Naomi touches the crown of her head. While she was getting freshened up, the humidity of the shower made her curls come back, so she decided to throw it in a messy bun.

“I got really warm,” Naomi explains. “It was too much effort to keep it down, and it was making my neck and back hot.”

Sienna seems to believe the excuse because she simply shrugs and nods. “Okay!” She grabs Naomi’s hand and drags her along. “Come one, Dr. Banerji says it’s almost time to start the auction.”

All of the people participating in the people auction line up on stage, as Naveen acts as the emcee.

It wasn’t just people auctioning themselves off for dates. A Celtics player offered up seats in the VIP suite at their arena, restaurants offering certificates to get private dining experiences, Ethan even offered up his box seats at the Citizens Bank Opera House for one evening.

When they got to actually auctioning off dates, Bryce was naturally a hit, with two women bidding back and forth until $1500 was reached.

“And for our next participant of the evening, we have Dr. Naomi Valentine!”

Naomi steps up to the podium next to Naveen and she’s met with polite applause from the audience. She’s never been shy before, but being part of the crowd and looking down on them are two different experiences.

“Let’s start the bidding at $100.”

“$100!”

“$150!”

“$150, do I hear $200?”

“$250!”

“Someone’s eager!” Naveen teases. “How about $275?”

$400!”

“$450!”

This goes on for a while, various men throwing out numbers, vying for Naomi’s hand.

“$2000!” Naomi scans the crowd and sees it's the guy she was dancing with earlier before Ethan cut in Carl Something or Another.

“$2000! $2000 going once, going twice–”

“$15,000!”

The number is so not what Naomi was expecting to hear, she nearly loses her balance. Holy shit, someone wanted to spend that much money? On her?

Murmurs fill the crowd as the guests all turn to one another, gossiping aloud.

“$15,000 going once, going twice, sold!” Naveen scans the audience and chuckles. “Sold to Edenbrooks’ very own Dr. Ethan Ramsey! Step up and come greet your date, son!”

Naomi’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as Ethan saunters onto the stage, a lopsided grin on his face. Naomi can feel the arrogance rolling off of him in waves.

All of the Edenbrook employees in attendance immediately begin talking. Of course there was talk of Ethan and Naomi maybe being a thing, but this confirms it.

“What on earth are you doing?” She asks, looking around. Everyone’s staring at them.

“Bidding.”

“A small down payment on a house?”

“What? I can afford it.” Ethan shrugs. “Besides, you couldn’t have possibly thought I was going to let someone else get this honor.”

Naomi narrows her eyes at him and laughs. “You know, you’re really crazy when you’re acting possessive and jealous.”

“I know.” Ethan steps forward and wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist. “And you love it.”

“I kind of do.”

He kisses her, earning a few whoops and whistles – and one rogue “Get it, Nay!” from Sienna – from the crowd. When he pulls away, the apples of Naomi’s cheeks are a deep red, not used to this level of attention all at once.

“So, now that I’ve proved my point, how about we get out of here? I think I need to take you on a date that’s worth $15,000.”

[petri808]

Secret Santa fic for @fawn-eyed-girl enemies to lovers trope. Happy Holidays :)

Helping others was something Kagome Higurashi really enjoyed doing on her time off. There were so many people in need in their city with its large homeless population, it was an easy decision to join a local organization that did things for them. From food drives to holiday meals, they’d visit shelters, or scouted the back alleyways looking for anyone that was struggling. Especially the children, oh those broke her heart and fueled her desire to do what she could year after year. Of course, there were dangers when going into the seedier areas because they weren’t just full of homeless people. Drug users, thieves, gamblers, prostitution. Most steered clear of people like Kagome, but on occasion her pepper spray came into use.

On a summers night as she made her rounds near a bar, two drunkards with a loss of inhibition saw a pretty young woman and decided she’d make for a great way to end their evening festivities. Kagome tried to be nice at first, noting the heavy stench of liquor on their breaths. It wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with men like this. But talking was getting nowhere and before she could pull out the pepper spray from her pocket, one of them grabbed her from behind. If it had just been one man she could have fought back, but not two. Kagome screamed for help, praying that someone from the bar would hear her.

“Stop being such a bitch!” the man who held her growled as she fought fiercely in his hold.

The second male grabbed her face and squeezed her cheeks to silence her screaming. “Behave or this’ll only get worse.”

At that moment, a flash of white ripped the man facing her away and her eyes widened as the guy is flung against the building 10 feet away. Next, the one holding her suddenly let go and took off running, but he doesn’t get far and is tossed through the air into the darkness of the night. Kagome stood there frozen, heart racing, just watching her white-haired savior. She’d never seen him before in the area and assumed he must have been a bar patron.

“Are, you okay?” The white-haired male questioned Kagome.

“Yes. T-Thank you, sir.”

“Good, but what kind of stupid woman are you to be in this kind of area late at night alone?! You got a death wish?! If I hadn’t heard ya screamin’, they would’a made you their bitch!”

Kagome was taken aback by this strangers outburst. He wasn’t wrong, but did he have to be an asshole about it? “I’m not stupid okay!” She crossed her arms, “I’m here doing something important.”

“Keh! Picking up idiots at the bar? You don’t look like a pro.”

“Cause I’m not a pro! I help homeless people. And what do you do sir? Bouncer at the bar cause you have no education?”

“For your information I’m a thief. You know, like Robin Hood.”

“Pfft, I doubt that. You’re a common criminal who’s just as bad as the other nasty elements I deal with, so get off your high horse in berating me and look in a mirror!”

“Look wench,” the man towered over Kagome. “Criminal or not I coulda just let them kidnap you!”

But unafraid, Kagome stood on the balls of her feet and glared right back. “And I said thank you!”

The man seemed shocked by her attitude because he stepped back while still pointing a finger angrily. “J-Just, stop being so reckless!”

He then literally jumped away, scaling the building next to them. Well, at least it was over. Kagome huffed and let out a long sigh. Good riddance! Sure, she was happy to be okay but geez, he was so mean! She hoped to never see him again!

Over the course of the next two years, her wish never came true. Which confused Kagome. Before their first encounter, she’d never seen him in the area, but after, she couldn’t go a month without running into the guy. So, after six months had passed, she’d had a friend in the police department search their records to see if this stranger had a record. Kagome never got the man’s name, but his appearance was very distinctive. Long white hair and dog ears perched atop his head. Sure, enough he was in their system. Inuyasha Taisho. Mostly petty theft, nothing major, a few fights, but often ruled defensive. Okay so he didn’t start fights, but he ended them. Even more curious is who Inuyasha’s parents were. Kagome expected to learn he had grown up in a poor area or something that lead him into thievery, but it turned out the family was wealthy.

The rest of their encounters weren’t as explosive as the first one had been, but still as irritating as ever. Someone would start to harass Kagome and Inuyasha would scare them off. He’d snap at her for being reckless, then jump away as she screamed at his fleeting back. In a few strange incidences, Kagome suspected he was nearby because she’d hear footsteps following behind her and suddenly, they would disappear. She didn’t know if he was following her or had stopped someone else from doing so, but the alleyway would always be empty when she turned around.

Don’t get her wrong, she appreciated his protection. But what had she done to illicit it in the first place? Kagome suspected Inuyasha stole things out of boredom, so was watching her his new line of amusement? And fine, since he’d never done anything to hurt her, she could tolerate his knight in white armor routine if he wasn’t such an asshole when he spoke to her!

It was maybe around the first year mark that Kagome had noticed a change in some of the activities. The amount of people bothering her had slowed, left mostly to the more foolish elements who were hell bent on trouble. Certain crowds fully stayed clear of her, especially organized elements like gangs. She wondered if word was traveling through the underground to leave her alone or face his consequences. Kagome had to admit the thought brought a flutter to her chest. Because okay, he was an ornery asshole, but he must have a heart to protect a woman... not to mention he wasn’t exactly ugly. Quite the opposite in fact...

“Yeah Sango, I just got here,” Kagome balanced the phone on her shoulder as she turned her car off. “I’m gonna unload the gifts for the kids Christmas party. Oh... okay, see you soon.”

She clicked off her phone and got out of her car, popping open her trunk before pocketing the phone. There was a lot to do before the small holiday dinner they had prepared at the community center for homeless families in the area. Gifts for the children, food, a Santa Claus was coming, tables to set up, games and decorations. As she leaned into her trunk to grab gifts, Kagome ran down her to-do list in her head.

“Don’t move.”

A chill runs down her spine at the deep voice right behind her and something poking into her back. Kagome’s body stiffened up instantly as all the blood drained from her face.

“Don’t turn around, don’t make any sudden movements if you wanna live.” The hard object pressed deeper into her side. It was cold like the muzzle of a gun. “I know money is kept in the office to pay vendors, so you’re gonna get it for me,” the male voice instructed.

Kagome whimpered. “Okay, I’ll get you whatever you want, just please d-don’t hurt me.”

The man forced her away from her car towards the building, keeping constant pressure to remind her he could fire off his weapon at any time. This was the first time since the night she’d met Inuyasha that Kagome had felt true fear. So many things were running through her mind, her family, friends… What if this man killed her and left her for dead and the children saw it? Those kids had it hard enough. They don’t need to be traumatized further. All she could do was pray in her head to be spared.

She fumbled with the keys to open up the side door, but Kagome’s hands were shaking so badly, she drops them. “S-sorry!”

“Stupid bitch!”

“I’m sorry!” Kagome cried out and braced for some kind of backlash, but instead is greeted with the most demonic sounding growl she’d ever heard. In seconds, she’s knocked to the ground, pushed out of the way as white hair flies past her vision. It was Inuyasha fighting with the robber! She scrambled away, pressing herself against the building as the two men battled on the ground. Inuyasha was trying to wrestle the gun away and strike at the same time. But unlike the other attacks, this stranger was much, much stronger. She covered her ears to the growls and curses, the sounds of her own screams ringing in her ears but couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Until a loud boom, followed by a flash of light made Kagome’s scream cut off. She instantly shielded herself in reaction and all noise was replaced by a buzzing sound. The gun had gone off! Inuyasha let out a guttural roar at the impact, but it didn’t stop him, only made him ten times angrier. She watched in a mixture of horror and intrigue as his eyes turned red and purple markings appeared on his cheeks. He slashed deep into the strange males chest and abdomen, once... twice... not to stop but to kill. At the third raising of his arm, Kagome cried out, snapping Inuyasha back to reality. He stopped, hand raised, staring down at the man who was semi-conscious, and fatally injured without immediate medical treatment.

Kagome stumbled and rushed over to Inuyasha, ripping her jacket off in the meantime. “Oh, my god you’ve been shot!” Tears are clouded her vision and her hands shook, but she pressed her jacket against the wound in his stomach. “Keep the pressure,” she instructed while pulling her phone out. “I need to call 911, y-you need to get to a hospital.”

“Tch, don’t worry about me. I’ll live.”

His nonchalant response made her stop what she was doing and sent Kagome to such a level of anger, it took Inuyasha completely by surprise. The tears that clouded her vision now freely poured down as she rapidly punched his shoulder as hard as she could. “You asshole! You asshole! You asshole!! You’re not invincible! You just got shot because of me! Why?! Why would you go this far to protect me?!”

More sounds appeared around them. A car, running footsteps. Her friend Sango’s voice, talking, yelling about hurry and emergency. But all Kagome and Inuyasha could do was stare at each other oblivious to it, he wide-eyed, and her crying and shrieking.

“Tell me!” Kagome beat his chest one last time before slumping from exhaustion. “Why do you keep protecting me?”

Inuyasha turned his head away in embarrassment, cheeks the color of a tomato and ears pinned down. He mumbled, “Because I like you,” then braced himself to be cussed out and/or completely rejected.

What he gets in return is a snorting laughter from the woman who quickly grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the lips.

“You dumbass!” Kagome snapped at him through smiling tears. “All you had to do was talk nice to me and ask me out!”

“I’m not good with women, and besides I didn’t think you’d like a guy like me.”

Kagome is moved to the side when the EMT and police arrived to treat Inuyasha, but it doesn’t halt the conversation. “Well, you will need to behave yourself if you wanna go out with me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t give you a chance.”

Inuyashas ears perked back up. “You’re serious?!”

Kagome smiled. “I believe that everyone deserves a second chance, why else do you think I do the things I do?”

“So, when I get out of the hospital, can I take you out for dinner?”

“It’s a date.”

[ikeservant]

How would the ikesen boys react to an mc who is blind but can take care of herself?

This took forever but I finally finished! 

MC has been blind for a good chunk of her life. She adapted quickly though through her sense of hearing and echolocation along with vibrations, being able to detect walls, objects, and people around her. She got sucked into the wormhole and BAM! Sengoku era! 

Nobunaga: She could smell and hear the fire around her and also..someone coughing? She followed the sound until she found the source, remembering the path she took so she can get out, and dragged Nobu’s butt out of the flames. “Do you know who I am?” “Well I can’t see you so nope.” When he realized that she was blind he was very impressed. “Men with all their senses in tact don’t have the bravery that you have. You are indeed a lucky charm.” He took her to Azuichi and told her that she could just laze around and have others take care of her if she wished, but mc is an independent woman that is able to do things herself so she immediately tells him to give her a job and she’d be able to accommodate to it. He admires her ambition and sets her to work. When she isn’t working he invites her to sit with him and chat bc he wants to get to know her as a person as well as how she’s able to adapt to the world without the sense of sight, intrigued with the clever methods to manage on her own. He feels inspired by her to create an education program for his citizens affected with physical limitations and how to help them live a fulfilling life while feeling capable just like mc.

Hideyoshi: His suspicion of mc decreased dramatically when he found out, as a matter of fact, she is blind. Suspicion immediately turned into concern and pity, making him really hesitant of Nobunaga letting mc do chores since she wanted to earn her keep. He was silently watching her with her rag and bucket, ready to step in the moment he sees her struggle. Instead, he sees her stepping around the perimeter of the outside hallway, mentally mapping out the length and width of the hall. Then, picking up the rag, cleaned the whole hall without a problem. Afterward, he approached her and told her about his concerns and worries of her struggling. She reassured him that she was able to live on her own for the most part where she came from, and as long as she made a mental map of the castle and heard when she was getting close to a wall or object, she would be just fine. He’d still insist on going to the market with her since it’s hard for anybody to navigate by hearing and mentally taking notes when there’s a huge market crowd. VERY protective and VERY mama hen Hide around mc to the point where she nags at him to give her space bc she doesn’t want him to worry about her as much as he does.

Mitsunari: Very helpful while also being very curious about how mc strategizes her everyday life. While giving a tour of the castle, he could tell she was taking her time while using her other senses to get a feel for each area. When he talked about her possibly having a helper maid to take her from place to place, mc answered “No need. I now know the area. I’ll ask somebody if I get lost but I’ve got a good mental map of the area.” “Very impressive, mc!” Mitsunari would beam. Mc can take care of herself better than he can, making that the staple point that the others drive into Mitsunari so he actually starts taking care of himself. They often brainstorm of ways to help mc do errands. Like with delivering scroll letters, cutting off a small little square at the bottom in a certain area so she can tell who is getting what letter and travel accordingly (ex: cut in left corner is Nobunaga’s letter. Cut in right corner is for Hideyoshi. Square cut in the middle on the bottom of the scroll is Ieyasu, etc.) Thinks mc is smarter and has a stronger willpower than anybody he’s ever met (besides his “friend” Ieyasu) bc of how she’s able to think and adapt to compensate for her lack of eyesight to survive and be capable and on equal footing as everyone else.

Masamune: He found out when trying to flirt with mc. “Hey I’ve had my eye on you this whole time, lass.” “Wish I could say the same. But that’s physically impossible.” “Ha! I see you have a sense of humor. I would have said I had my EYES on you but that would be only half true.” Both would probably joke about their eyes and brush it off as no big deal. Impressed that by her second day he saw her in the halls carrying supplies by herself, already aware of the area. “Masamune, is that you?” “Yeah it is! I’m impressed! Your senses must be very on point.” “That or the fact that you always smell like spices and walk kinda funny.”mc laughed. Likes how free and independent mc’s spirit is, admiring how she doesn’t let her disability stop her from doing what she wants to do, finding ways to adapt to things. Since boi really likes to write letters but would have to have someone else read it to her while he was away, she taught him braille. Giving him a guide with a scroll listing the indents/holes that indicate different characters, he was able to give her flirty messages while he was away and imagine her blushy face while she’s reading the letter herself.

Mitsuhide: Could tell almost right away that mc was blind. Would secretly be watching over her to see if she was having trouble. Every time he would walk up to her with a “Are you lost, little mouse? It must be hard for you.” in a condescending tone to tease her while also being slightly concerned. “No. I know I’m in the right hallway to go to the cleaning supply room. Just two more lefts then a right and about 10 paces to the left.” He actually was shocked for a second but felt like praising her for having a sharp mind. Tries sneaking up on her but she can always tell he’s near due to just sensing his presence and hearing just the slightest glide of his feet on the hallway, calling him out. Sees a bit of himself in her, being mentally prepared and alert of their senses to adapt and compensate for their shortcomings. When deciding to teach her because he wants her to survive and thrive in this cruel world, he realizes he’ll have to read everything to her and verbally quiz her. However, she introduced him to braille, intriguing him and inspiring him to use it as a new secret code language to send info. Also feels like it’s a special bond between them.

Ieyasu: Would be against mc doing chores or going around by herself because she’ll just be an inconvenience (not because he just doesn’t want her to get hurt I write sarcastically). Would make him stand up and follow her as she gives him a whole tour of the castle, remembering every hallway within one week. He’s glad that mc can’t see how embarrassed his face is that she’s better adapted than he thought. He’d still lowkey be like mama hideyoshi, silently watching her and trying to tell her that she should still be careful. He draws the line at her planning on going to the market on her own because things are constantly shifting and changing there and the noisy crowd might throw her off, leaving him no other choice but to escort mc. As thanks, mc would buy him something spicy, using her nose and advice from others to get him the gift. Normally mc is able to go through the day fine, but sometimes she’ll accidentally tumble, causing Ieyasu to lightly scold her while checking her bruises and letting her see Wasabi. She was SHOOK finding out that she was petting a cute lil deer since she could tell it was a smaller 4 legged animal with lil hooves but didn’t know that it was a baby fawn. Ieyasu would also give mc a walking stick to help her navigate better, especially in unfamiliar areas or areas with possible obstacles in the way.

Kenshin: Was at the bar minding his own business when he heard a cane tap a seat next to him. Mc sat next to him, ordering something to drink. “If you were to try to find a woman, how long would it take to find her in this bar?” she’d ask, hoping that she could get some free time away from an overbearing escort. “Depends on the target. Why? Did you start a fight? If so, can I get in on it?” “Oh nah. I want a break from being smothered with attention and feeling like I need help. If I can go to this specific bar blind then that should be proof that I don’t need helpers for short trips.” He was surprised a woman, much less a blind woman, was confident in her abilities to get from place to place while being sure of herself. Mc and Kenshin met quite a bit after that and the more he heard her complain about her work, the more he realized she was working for the Oda. Not trusting the Oda and not wanting her to face a horrible fate if someone overtakes the Oda first, he convinces her to move into his castle. She memorizes the area quickly and feels less crowded with warlords, but the closer she gets to Kenshin the more he is overbearing and protective over her safety. She gives him several demonstrations of her doing tasks by herself to convince him that it’s very low risk and that she enjoys feeling independent and capable. Although overprotective, he thinks she has the most determined spirit of anyone he’s ever met and will cut down anybody that makes her feel weak or helpless because she’s far from that in his eyes, even if he still worries about her.

Shingen: Shingen was well aware that almost all the women at the tea shop were swooning over him, all except mc, who was eating sweet buns and drinking tea in the corner while waiting for some of the warlords to come back from their long in-town meeting. He tried winking at her, but she just kept staring off and making no expression change. He decided to walk up to her, feeling curious. “Whoever smells like woodchips and cologne that is walking up to my table, please state your business.” Since he’s very intuitive, he’s able to realize mc is blind by now. He decided to have a normal conversation with her, learning how she’s able to stay strong and manage w/o sight. When he saw the other warlords coming back he bolted, but realized she was working for the “terrible” Nobunaga. Since in his mind he thinks the Oda are going to hurt/take advantage of her, he makes an elaborate plan to take her away. When she got to Kenshin and Shingen’s place, she was FUMING bc of being kidnapped. However, Shingen explained everything about how the Oda overtook his homeland and all the horrors he’s seen them do and how he wanted to save her from facing that same fate. Mc pretty much told him that it isn’t his choice to make that call but understands from his voice that he’s being sincere so she decides to stay for a while. He’s very impressed she knows the whole layout of the castle and can tell when he’s walking up to her because he has a “flirty saunter”. When she does feel a little down about being blind he helps her find silver linings like how she’s been able to be braver and determined to adapt, and how she is able to look at someone’s character and words instead of being thrown off by physical appearances. Although he is chivalrous and offers to help her with tough tasks, he will ROAST anybody that calls her weak or fragile because she’s the strongest, most resilient goddess in his eyes. Would make a beautiful wooden cane for her so she can look stylish while walking around outside.

Yukimura: When mc freaked out and ran away, running straight for the cliff, Yukimura caught her. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING RUNNING OFF A CLIFF LIKE A WILD BOAR? ARE YOU BLIND?” “Actually yeah.” Yuki went o_o before trying to scold her more for running aimlessly w/o knowing where she’s going until Sasuke swooped in, recognizing she’s the person from the present and offers they take her in. Yuki agrees, not wanting anybody to get hurt cuz he’s a caring boi. Since he didn’t want her to trip on anything and could tell she was exhausted and overwhelmed at the moment, he gave her a piggyback ride to the castle. When showing her around he keeps awkwardly asking if she needs help or assistance and gets more embarrassed when she says she can do most things on her own. “Of course I can feed myself. I have hands, dummy.” Is glad she’s capable of doing a lot on her own so he doesn’t have to keep worrying about her safety. Lowkey forgets she’s blind at times but is glad mc can laugh it off and says it makes her happy that she can go about life so normally that people don’t notice her blindness. When mc talked about seeing eye dogs being a thing, lowkey he’s thinking about making Muramasa a guide dog if mc ever wanted to go explore so he can guide her and pull her along. Also embarrassingly asks Shingen to teach him how to carve wood so he can make her a walking stick with their names carved on it and will blush like crazy when mc feels the names on it and tackles him in a hug.

Sasuke: Found her running in the woods the night she landed in the Sengoku era. Since she was overwhelmed and scared for her life, not knowing what the heck was going on, she was stumbling and tripped, making a branch snap loudly. Sasuke, who was nearby, used his ninja hearing and went to investigate. She could hear him approach and turned towards his direction. “I HAVE A WEAPON AND I’M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT” she threatened, gripping her walking stick while whipping out a pocket knife. He noticed the red band around the white stick, which was the noticeable sign of a blind person’s walking cane. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” “You sound like the guy from the temple before that big lightning strike. What the hell is going on?” He explained to her the current predicament and how they’re back in the Sengoku era. “I guess that explains why I teleported into a flaming building and just heard a bunch of warlord names and felt like I was in a historical reenactment.” Sasuke helps her go to Kenshin’s place, explaining to Kenshin her predicament and Kenshin agrees as long as Sasuke duels him every day for a month (RIP Sasuke). Is impressed how she’s able to remember how to get around the castle after just 2 days and makes Kenshin give her a job and proving that she’s plenty capable, earning Kenshin’s respect. He has faith that she is plenty independent and capable of living a decent life in the castle, but he still offers assistance in unfamiliar settings and will always come up with good ideas to help when mc asks for advice on how to get around certain tasks.

[period-dramallama]

Spanish Princess episode 6: my tired chronological thoughts

Say it with me now: “previously, on the Spanish Princess!”

-Is it just me or is tsp!koa sympathetic in this episode? 

-charlotte was actually acting really well in the first scenes. I really felt for her. Probably because she wasn’t spouting any stupid dialogue. 

-SO WE’RE JUST GOING TO FORGET ABOUT BABY STEALING HUH

-i wish i could forget

-”Cardinal Wolsey has been speaking with your daughter” if More and Maggie are now Mary’s adopted co-parents, can Wolsey please be the cool uncle?

-Please can we have wolsey speaking to mary in the fawning tone he uses with Henry and Mary’s just like...unimpressed.

-I will say this for tsp!koa, she does give good Hugs

-Yet again, Thomas More is babysitting the girls. While it’s good that Mary has adopted parents, it’s only sadder given her biological dad will execute both of them.

-it is actually historically accurate to have maggie p looking after Mary, she was Mary’s governess IRL, IIRC.

-also you wouldn’t leave the princess with just one person. She’d surely be supervised by at least 2 people, in case like one person had a heart attack or smth.

-PLEASE go back to calling her Lady Pole. AND GIVE THOMAS MORE TO DO

-”it will all come to nothing” sounds like something that WON’T come to nothing

-and now Henry and Wolsey have had a lover’s quarrel, they are such boyfriends they even quarrel like boyfriends.

-’summit’ sounds too modern

-Are Angus beefburgers named thus because of hard Meg roasted him this episode?

-”I wasn’t expecting to see you” yeah bc wasn’t the Field just F and H? 

-The cinematography was great last episode, and now we have weird close ups on the riot ringleader’s face. Why. I can practically see his saliva. Yum.

-Someone else got to the “Wolsey whispers like David Attenborough” joke first.

-What is that weird af flooring? It looks like they stole it from the set of Rivendell in LOTR.

-No dancing? No revels? No tongue in cheek allusions to Glastonbury or Woodstock? This Field feels more like parent’s evening at school.

-I’m now certain Flodden swallowed the budget whole and it was not worth it.

-”we are being threatened” “they drew a gallows in pig’s blood” This is so frustrating. You didn’t need Lina to spell it out for the audience. It would have been so much more suspenseful if you just saw the drawing, and then Lina’s terrified face, and we cut to the next scene. But you think the audience is so dumb we won’t realise a gallows drawn in blood is a threat? GTFO. And stop making Lina state the obvious!

-How good is Rosa’s hubby at his navigator job if they’re wearing brocade at a royal summit?

-To be fair to the show, “she’s only six years old,” is said by Rosa, not Catherine, and Rosa has been living outside England, so easy mistake.

-I like the compass gift, that was cute.

-Maggie watching the shadow play reminds me of the shadow puppets her mother and aunt played with in twq :’)

-THE WINE FOUNTAIN YES I CAN SEE THE WINE FOUNTAIN i was worried we wouldn’t see it

-I misheard Rosa and thought she called Buckingham Aardvark instead of Edward. I will now call him Aardvark. Yes I am very mature.

-I get that Wolsey is meant to be the Bad Guy, but he was literally just standing there with his wine, doing nothing. Stop shouting at him, Aardvark, YOU walked into HIM.

-”raise the price of ale” do you have any idea how much ale people were drinking in this period, Henry? That’s like the government putting up the price of water. You raise the price of ale and you’ll make the unrest worse. 

-People have been discussing Bessie’s behaviour, I think the issue is classism rather than xenophobia, cause she's worried for Lina and Oviedo and their kids but they’re servants of the crown, like she is, so they’re not ‘riff raff’, and she’s also dismissive of the rioters and wants “order restored” she said “heads on spikes” but I assume the heads are the rioters’ heads. Idk, either way the dialogue is clunky and stupid and this whole plotline is badly handled anyway and i do not care enough to rewatch that scene. 

-given how rude Francois was to Mary, IN PUBLIC, I kinda love the idea of her taking the mickey out of him. and look at that, Reggie Pole’s silence finally has a plot purpose! Given that Reggie was Mary Tudor’s archbishop and right hand man, it’s kind of touching that they’re connected in this way.

-Twenty minutes left of episode and the Field is over. Le disappointment. 

-”he’s gone!” Oviedo, I get that you’re probably in shock but... are you honestly trying to do CPR on a man who’s been skewered with a sword. I love you, Oviedo, but you were holding the show’s single braincell and now you’ve dropped it. I’ll give you a pass if you genuinely panicked.

-wtf henry pole your mother will hear about this

-The climax was very emotional...but ruined by the fact it’s total nonsense. Everyone in this show continues to be a total idiot. FINALLY we can be finished with the “not loving Mary” BS that should have lasted no more than 1 ep, if you had to do it at all.

-To be fair to the show, Mary comes across to me at least as traumatised, not as a gleeful baby tyrant. She’s not happy about men getting executed

-”My father cuts their heads off” it would have been such black comedy if koa was like “No darling, he won’t cut their heads off. Beheading’s for rich people”.

-please tell me you’re not hanging them by trapdoor method. The trapdoor method was invented in the nineteenth century.

-”grant them mercy” dude you said “they can die without me watching” so they’re probably all dead by now. 

-”first time he’s agreed” I will give the show a tiny tiny benefit of doubt and say maybe they mean this particular pope?? Actually scrap that they probably mean all popes.

-This should have been Thomas More’s time to shine, IRL he was involved in the govt response to Evil May Day, (I think he even addressed the mob to get them to surrender to the king) which I assume this riot is based off of. But because he was also at the Field, and the showrunners forced these two events to happen simultaneously, the showrunners decided to keep him at the Field...doing nothing. 0/10. 

-some lovely choral singing this episode. 

[cylonalyna]

Alyna watches Xena! S01x01 – Sins of the Past

Beware. For the road is long and full of spoilers… I mean, if a 25 years old show can be spoiled. But fair warning.

I was never a fan of Hercules so when I watched the pilot I didn’t know what Xena’s back story was and that it was Hercules who convinced her to change her ways. And because I didn’t know that, I thought Xena was just this ex-evil warrior who changed her ways because of some reason known to her. Anyway, I remember watching this episode out of boredom and thinking it’s just a female version of Hercules, but oh boy, was I wrong. Thankfully. And this thing here was supposed to be short but I made a very long recap of the episode. Sorry not sorry, I’m gonna be making recaps of the series. Yes, every single episode… Not regularly... And it's gonna be long… Deal with it.

And maybe read it and let me know what you think. :)

Oh, and if there are any grammatical or punctuation errors also let me know. English isn't my first language so there might be some things to fix. :)

We start with Xena is going through some burned village reminiscing on her past when she was just killing, pillaging and burning villages… And people too, I guess. And then there’s this boy coming out of a burned house asking for food. And when Xena asks him where his parents are, he says Xena killed them. He describes her attack as if the goddess herself showed up and fucked the village up for no reason and Xena is all like:

And it’s really one of the best moments of a pilot, because we’re shown flashback of the attack so even without watching Hercules and meeting Xena there we can see she used to be a bad bitch. So before leaving she gives the kid some bread and cheese so he could hide in his burned house and eat something before he dies of some sickness, gets killed, is eaten by wild animals in search for food etc. Brilliant plan boy, you’re a prodigy.

So then we have the scene where Xena digs a hole and puts her armor her sword and chakram there and frankly, she’s not really a clean lady since there’s still blood and some meat pieces on her chakram.

*rule #1 - wash your weapons from enemies intestines*

And suddenly, a whole bunch of villagers is chased by some warlord taken straight from Mad Max movie. Xena observes the situation, the Mad Max warlord says he’s gonna get the girls (men, smh) and then this blonde girl is all like “take me and leave everyone” and warlords are like “lmfao, nope” and Xena is all like:

*Carless Whisper saxophone solo intensifies*

Because frankly, who wouldn’t be? I know I had the same reaction to Gabrielle so I get Xena. I totally get it.

So when the warlord wants to whip Gabrielle for being insubordinate Xena suddenly jumps into action and starts kicking ass. We get backflips, kicks, punches and a really awesome action sequence until Xena is hit in the head (because she was watching if Gabrielle was safe and it got her distracted. Again, totally understandable).

Men are standing there groaning “argh, grr, rghhg” or something like that and then BOOM! Xena takes out her sword from the hole and with a laugh starts fighting them. And you can see how much fun she has. She kicks warlords’ asses and realizes they’re from Draco so she tell them to say hello from Xena. But who’s Draco? What does he do? Is he more evil then Xena? We don’t know! And… opening!

In a time of ancient gods, warlords… Well, you know it.

So later on Xena is in this small village surrounded by the villagers and Gabrielle is fawning over her and the whole situation, and Gabrielle’s father comes in being all like “thanks for saving us, but now GTFO” and this tall dude behind him wants to take Gabrielle. But Gabrielle is all like “dude, I know I’m supposed to marry you against my will and then die in childbirth or of boredom, but I’m not gonna listen to you. GTFO”. So when he leaves, Gabrielle begs Xena to take her with her. Xena being stoic and supposedly unmoved by Gabrielle words of course disagrees, because “she works alone” and… Then she tells Gabrielle she’s going to Amphipolis, because OF COURSE Gabrielle wouldn’t try and follow her. Nope. Not at all. And she goes like “don’t follow me, you don’t wanna make me mad, do you?” and of course Gabrielle is all like “yeah, no sure, I get it” but then is of course “meh, she’s not that scary. I just need a plan!”

So we move to Draco’s camp where he’s without shirt exposing his bare chest, being all handsome and shit, and being badass when catching almost four arrows at once. But then he’s sort of colorblind… I mean he notices the color of the arrow that wounded him but can’t see who has green arrows when the dude’s arrows are visible from behind his back...

*seriously Draco…*

Anyway, later he’s alone and Xena sneaks in and they have the whole who's tougher bitch, which is Xena of course, and she asks him to leave the village alone (because of her future wife or something) and Draco’s all like “yeah, sure… If you join me” and when Xena says she can’t join Draco, being a typical man he asks why. And we get this really awesome scene where Xena dramatically turns her back, stares at nothing and says she’s going home. OH, DRAMA!

So Draco becomes even a bigger drama queen than Xena and tells our warrior saying he’s dreamt of being in love with her or… fighting in battle or whatever, can’t remember, but Xena turns and Draco goes all soft and says he’ll spare those villagers. But he also asks Xena what's she looking for at home. Being still in drama mode he tells her that when he tried to come home his dad beat the shit out of him with a blacksmith’s hammer. And he survived that. Damn, he IS badass! I mean, have you people ever seen a blacksmith hammer?!

*10/10 wouldn't recommend this an educational tool*

Meanwhile, Gabrielle wants to escape home in the middle of the night and while sneaking out she… Hits strategically placed table waking up her sister Lila. Gabrielle explains to her she needs to follow Xena because she’s in lo… She wants to be a warrior like her and that she doesn’t love Perdicus and it’s her destiny. So Lila being a supportive sister is all like “Go, chase your girlf…. Dreams! Just do it!” and Gabrielle leaves.

*Lila being a supportive sister*

It’s daylight and Xena is riding Argo when suddenly her horse stops all afraid. So Xena gets off the horse that suddenly runs away and… The Blind Cyclops shows up with Draco’s dad’s blacksmith’s hammer! (I honestly don’t know if I used Saxon Genitive in the right way, but I hope you get the meaning). Xena is all like “Fuuuck, that’s a big hammer!” which makes the Blind Cyclops even more badass than he already is, but she stands to fight and humiliates him by dropping his pants. He starts bawling like a baby and Xena leaves him and continues her journey to Amphipolis, because she has no time to deal with Cyclops drama.

But Draco is plotting against Xena. He decides to attack Amphipolis and pretend it was Xena who told him to do it. Plot thickens, you guys.

Gabrielle is afraid of bridges… And gets caught by…Yes, you guessed right. The Blind Cyclops. But being a smart girl she says she’s out here to find and kill Xena because… And here we have very subtexty dialogue:

C: “How’s the young thing like you is gonna kill Xena?”

G: “That’s the point. She’d never let a man get close enough to do her. At least not that kind of do her. But a young, innocent looking girl like me, I’ll catch her totally off guard…

*You sure will, Gabrielle. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)*

At the same time, Xena is being followed by Draco’s warlords. They’re dumb enough to think she doesn’t know so she goes all ninja on them, fingers the Mad Max warlord… I mean, she cuts the blood to his body… Pervs. ;) And when she learns about the plan she leaves to stop the invasion.

In the next scene, Gabrielle is chilling out on the road when some old dude stops and tells her to GTFO, because she’s blocking the only route to Amphipolis. So Gabrielle convinces him to take her with him and the old dude agrees.

So while Gabrielle and the old man are traveling on the only route to Amphipolis, Xena is taking a detour through the hills for dramatic effect or something. Basically, New Zealand… I mean Greece is a beautiful place so why not show it, right? Right?

She meets those peasant women singing Bulgarian…  I mean Greek chants and rides through them, but they don’t give a shit being too into chanting and putting on stacks of… Hay, I guess. Meh, whatever.

So Xena reaches Amhipolis and goes into a tavern to drink wine and sleep with beautiful women. But unfortunately it’s not that kind of a tavern and there’s no wine and beautiful women to sleep with. All she meets are angry people, silence and… wait for it… her mother, Cyrene!

Cyrene grabs Xena’s sword and tells her she’s not welcomed there and she should GTFO. Xena wants to rally people against Draco but Cyrene is against and she tells Xena she’d rather die and that she’s not her mother. And it’s a rather powerful stuff, because we only know glimpses of Xena’s past so we don’t really know how big her crimes are. Of course burning one village and killing peasants is a big no no, but Xena is too big of a character to be hated for such a minor offense. Anyway, villagers in the tavern also tell Xena to GTFO so she does.

Draco is pissed that Mad Max warlord told Xena about his plans and tells him to pick a weapon. Sadly it’s not Draco’s father’s blacksmith’s hammer because that’s been stolen by the Blind Cyclops, but a simple spear. Still, Draco proves to be truly awesome by kicking Mad Max warlord’s ass and killing him while telling new plans to his people. Truly, he was a great choice for a pilot.

In the morning, Xena comes back to the tavern looking around hoping to find some wine and beautiful ladies to sleep with, but to her disappointment there are still none. But her sword is there. And her mom is there. Oh boy, this tension between them could cut diamonds in half. But we get a bonding moment where Cyrene and Xena open old wounds so they could heal, and Xena tells her mother she might not be able to set things right, but she’s gonna spend the rest of her life to try. It’s another great moment in this show where we see Xena in her vulnerable state and not all powerful and strong. And this moment is ruined by villagers coming into the tavern saying Xena’s army is burning fields to which Xena answers they’re lying, Cyrene feels all hurt thinking it was all a ruse and leaves, and villagers start throwing rocks at our warrior princess.

But then Gabrielle comes to the rescue! Because Gabrielle has a natural talent to talk her way out of troubles, she uses it to save Xena. She uses a cunning bluff of “if you hurt bad guy’s girlfriend imagine how pissed he’ll be”. So the villagers reluctantly agree and decide to not commit murder. After a small talk Xena takes Gabrielle on her horse and takes her to her dead brother. Because, you know, there’s no better start of a romance than a visit at the crypt.

So Xena is talking to his dead brother saying she’s lost but that she’s gonna be ok, but that she’s alone and then Gabrielle shows up saying she’s not. And by the way that they’re looking at each other we’re to believe these two weren’t into each other from the beginning? Please.

*they’ve known each other for like 1 hour and we get those looks already? So straight indeed*

Meanwhile, the villagers are waiting for Draco to make a deal, but when he shows up he’s threatening to destroy everything and kill everyone unless they tell him where Xena is. And this is another great moment for Draco, because he really is a scary and ruthless dude and I really wish he was more in this show then just 3 episodes. It was a wasted character, imo.

Anyway, while threatening the leader to kill him, Xena shows up and Draco makes fun of her asking about the homecoming. Again, he tries to convince Xena to join him and goes all Palpatine saying she should “celebrate her dark side”, but Xena is all like “pfft, fuck off and let’s fight to the death”. Draco tells her to choose weapons, but Xena leaves the choice to Draco. Now, Draco being a really smart guy and someone who knows how good Xena is with swords, chooses staffs. I’m sure he believes it’ll give him advantage or at least even oit the odds. Xena chooses the conditions and her conditions are to fight on a scaffolding. The first person to touch the ground is gonna die. Draco agrees and tells his people that whoever falls first is to be killed.

Doing a flip with the help of his people he gets to a scaffolding and grabs his staff. Xena is way more of a showgirl. She hits the dude with his staff and when he leans down she jumps on his back and then on a head of another warlord and jumps to meet her opponent.

They start fighting. It’s an even fight and Draco proves to be a worthy opponent. Soon Xena has to fight to stay on the bamboo scaffolding as it starts to fall off. The archers prepare to shoot, Cyrene shows up and everyone is thinking if she’s gonna fall. But no, Xena standing on one bamboo stick starts hitting bamboos under Draco’s feet to make him back out and leave him vulnerable. But Draco stands tough and very soon he manages to make Xena almost fall again. She manages to hang on her staff, her legs barely touching the ground. Cyrene starts panicking, being all teary, because, come on, she’s a mom. No matter how pissed our moms are at us, they worry 24/7.

Draco starts hiting Xena’s hands wanting her to let go and fall, asking her why she would die for the people that hate her. But Xena grabs Draco’s staff with her feet and doing a truly awesome backflip she manages to stand on the scaffolding again attacking him. Draco almost falls but jumps on people’s heads and give Xena a signal to join him.

And the same villagers who earlier denied Xena her wine and beautiful women to sleep with, and wanted her dead are now supporting her… Literally. She manages to stand on the arms of one person and attacks Draco. They do backflips, kicks, punches and all that for a few minutes and then with one swift kick to the chest Draco falls down on the ground and Xena jumps on his chest looking down upon him to let him know he’s just a little bitch and not a match to her skills. Xena promises to spare Draco if he leaves the valley and he agrees.

But one of his warlords decides to sneakily attack Xena from behind. Gabrielle’s warns her, but before the warrior can react Draco throws his knife at him. After all, Draco may be a ruthless warlord, but he’s honorable.

After the fight Xena is preparing to leave when Cyrene shows up and hugs Xena, who asks again for forgiveness and is, of course, given that. It's a truly awesome moment in this pilot.

But, and honestly I have no idea why, Xena doesn’t stay in the tavern for wine and beautiful women to sleep with. Maybe there is no wine and beautiful women to sleep with after all. Instead, Xena starts a fire near some woods when she hears some noise and goes into a warrior mode. But, as it turns out, it’s just Gabrielle saying she wanted to follow Xena without her noticing, but she couldn’t start a fire and it’s cold and there are mosquitoes looking lkke eagles or something.

Xena wants to send her back home, but Gabrielle says she won’t go. There’s a talk about not belonging there and Xena seems to understand Gabrielle completely. So when she gives Gabrielle a blanket we get one of the most beautiful moments in the pilot.

*couldn't find gif so you're stuck with bad screenshot*

And in the morning we see Xena and Gabrielle travelling to new adventures to right wrongs, drink wine and… Oh forget it.

This episode is all kinds of awesomeness. It’s a great introduction to a character of Xena even to those, like me, who didn’t know her from Hercules. It has tons of very well choreographed fights, amazing music and it’s a rreally strong pilot that makes you wanna see more.

10/10

[sxngshine]

If Tomorrow Comes

• Chan x reader x Minho

• Genre: FLUFF, BIT OF CRACK, ANGSTTT

• Word Count: 2.03k

• Love triangle au, college au, Enemies to lovers(kind of) au

• Summary: you were a temperamental girl who lived a hard life ever since your dad died. Your grandma and mom always fought and it always brought troubles to your already broken family. But after meeting a man who came all the way from another country, you knew your life wasn't going to be the same. But don't judge a book by its cover, otherwise you'll never know the full story.

• Extra: This story is based off of a movie I watched. I really liked the plot so I made a story out of it. Obviously not exactly like the movie, I added my own parts to it. All creds go to the creators of the movie ily all💕

Ps. I may make a series out of this.

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♡Y/n's POV♡

Beep Beep Beep Beep Bee-

You groaned and turned off your stupid alarm. Mornings were definitely not your thing. But alas, you had a class today and you couldn't be late, so you begrudgingly got up and dragged your feet towards the bathroom.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you almost screeched at your ugliness- just kidding but you did groan at how much of a rats nest your hair looked like.

After showering and completing your morning routine, you walked out of your bathroom and towards your closet. Throwing on whatever you saw first (which happened to be a gray hoodie and unfortunately, jeans) and then tamed your hair so it looked hair presentable.

Not bothering to put it up you grabbed your bag and made your way downstairs. And then you immediately regretted it.

There was loud screaming coming from the kitchen and the sound of crying. You sighed and walked into the kitchen, you mood worsening when you saw your little sister crying. You hated seeing her cry, she was a wholesome child and you would never allow her childhood to be ruined because the to two people yelling.

"Enough!" You yelled, gaining the attention of all three present. "What is going on?"

"This nuisance spilled her juice all over me!" Your grandma yelled, throwing her hands into the air.

"She's just a kid! It was an accident and she even apologized! Why are you being so mean!?" Your mother yelled back.

"Ever since you adopted this child shes been nothing but a pest! Always leeching off of us-"

"I said ENOUGH!" You had enough of their shit. Walking up to your crying sister, you gave her a hug and picked her up so she was secure around your hip.

"Grandma, I love you. But that's no way to speak to her. She apologized so you dont need to start yelling such things." You said calmly, controlling your temper.

"Now both of you break it up," you looked at the two women who eventually went their separate ways, muttering under their breathes.

"Hey princess, are you okay?" You asked your little 6 year old sister whole wiping her tears away.

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. "I'm okay, did grandma mean it?" She asked sadly.

"No of course not, she may not show it but she loves you baby. Don't worry okay? Now you go play in your room alright?" You told her, setting her down.

"Okay unnie, I love you," she said, kissing your cheek before running upstairs.

You smiled and grabbed your bag once again, deciding to just grab some juice and skip breakfast for today.

"I'm leaving!" You yelled before walking out the front door. Seeing your neighbor Mr.Bang, you waved hi. Mr.Bang was a nice and jolly old man who lived by himself.

You walked to the bus terminal and sat down waiting for your best friend. After a few minutes she ran up to you.

"Hey Y/N!" She chirped happily, a little too happy for your taste.

"Hey Nari, why so happy? Its Monday," you stated, sipping on your juice.

"Because! I just saw this super cute guy on the way here and oh my god we was so good looking like-"

One thing you didn't like about your bestfriend was how crazy she was about boys.

"Girl! This is like the 4th guy this week! The week only started yesterday for crying out loud! How long are you gonna keep doing this to yourself? Guys are a literal WASTE of time. Do something better with your life rather than fawning over guys all the time." You snapped, already tired hearing where this conversation was heading.

"But-" she tried to say but the bus arrived and cut her short. "Come on," you said standing up, walking towards the entrance of the bus.

You were waiting for everyone to get off while you sipped your juice, but of course, someone just HAD to bump into you, spilling your juice all over your hoodie.

"What the hell man!" You screeched. Thankfully you had a tshirt on underneath so you took off your sweater.

You glared at the guy who spilled your drink. "Shit, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to here's a tissue-" he said, fumbling with his bag.

People were now boarding the bus and you had to go. "Watch where you're going next time blondie," you seethed before getting onto the bus, leaving the mysterious boy on the sidewalk.

*time skip to after class*

"Finally! I was growing tired of listening to her talk," you sighed and got up from your seat. Being a business major was such hard work, sometimes you considered just dropping out.

Packing your things up and saying goodbye to your classmates, you walked out the university and sat down in the bench where you and your bestfriend usually met.

After waiting for another 10 minutes, you started to grow impatient.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice yelled as they ran up to you.

"You know Minho, it's rude to keep people waiting." You stated, crossing your arms.

"Were there others waiting here as well?" He asked, catching his breath. "Me Minho, I'm people," you groaned and began walking away.

He just laughed and followed you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "I'm sorry, I saw this really hot girl and-" you blocked out the rest he was going to say.

You see, Minho was a fuckboy. A player. He's been going from girl to girl, no one ever lasts a week with him. There was no doubt, Minho was definitely cute and he was really smart. But when it came to girls, there was no end to his fanclub. That's what happens when your bestfriends with the son of Lee industries.

Yep, you heard it folks. He's the Lee Minho, heir of Lee industries. How the two of you became friends, you'll never know.

"Whatever I dont care about what you did to get the girl man, just drive me home please!" You pleaded. You just wanted to go home and flop onto your bed for a few years.

Minho just rolled his eyes and nodded. You started talking about random things as he Lead you too his car. He started the engine and drove off.

After talking a bit more he spoke up "Y'know Y/N, don't you think it's about time you got yourself a boyfriend?" He asked you.

You snorted. "Men are a waste of time. Besides I don't need any man but you Min. Why do I need a boyfriend when I have my bestfriend?"

Hearing that made Minho smile as pink busted his cheeks. He was happy you felt that way about him. Although that last line was a bit of a sting. Man just got friendzoned.

Once arriving at your house you said bye to Minho and stepped out of the car, walking to your front porch and turning around to wave at him once more before he drove off.

Walking into your house you kicked off your shoes and trudged upstairs, throwing your dirty hoodie in the hamper beside your closet. You dropped your bag and jumped onto your bed closing your eyes.

You didn't even close your eyes for 30 seconds before you felt someone's weight on you. Groaning, you open your eyes to see your little sister.

"Yunaaa.... what is it?" You whined.

"I wanna go to the park," she said.

"Unnies tired sis, ask mom.." you mumbled.

"Mom had to go to work and there's no way I'm asking grandma," she whined.

You sighed and sat up, the little girl now sitting in your lap instead of crushing your chest.

"Alright, only for a little while. Okay?" You told her and she nodded, jumping up and down.

You grabbed your phone and decided to wear your glasses today cause you were to lazy to put on your contacts.

You held your sisters hand as she happily skipped down the sidewalk beside you. Arriving to the park, Yuna let go of your hand and ran towards the swings. But she, being the clumsy child she is, bumped into someone and scraped her knee. You gasped and ran towards them.

The guy she bumped into bent down and helped her up. He put a bandaid on her cut and helped her up.

"What's your name sweetie?" He asked, grabbing a flower nearby and placing it in her hair, making her giggle.

"Yuna" she said.

"I'm Chan" he said smiling at the little girl.

You put a hand on her shoulder and went to apologize. "I'm so sorry about her clumsiness-" you went to say but he cut you off.

"Hey! You're that girl from the bus terminal!" He exclaimed. You properly looked at him and scowled.

"Oh it's you blondie," you said, picking up your sister and placing her on your hip. "You okay?" You asked her.

"Yeah! Channie oppa made it better!" She giggled.

"Did you thank him?" You asked her. You may not like him but you still had manners.

"Thank you Channie oppa!" She said happily before wiggling out of your arms and running towards the swings.

Now it was just the two of you. You were about to leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"Am I not going to get a thank you?" He asked.

"Why would I?" you scoffed. "Call us even for that time you spilt my drink all over me"

You began to walk away when he yelled. "Nice meeting you glasses!" You just rolled your eyes.

-The next day-

You didn't have a class today and you couldn't me happier. After doing assignments and listening for so long you needed a break.

You were eating a snack while texting Minho when someone rang your doorbell. You looked at the door with furrowed, who decides to visit at 10am??

You walked towards the door to see your mother with Yuna in front of her. You glanced at them before opening the door.

There stood Blondie.

"Oh! Pleasure seeing you again." He said to you before looking at your mom.

"Hi Miss! My uncle asked me to bring you this dish," he said, showing you guys the dish.

"And you are?" She asked.

"Oh right! I'm Chan, I'm from Australia and I'm Mr.Bangs nephew." He stated while smiling.

"Its a pleasure to meet you Chan, thank you for the dish. And please, call me Nina." You cringed when your mom told him her first name

He smiled "What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Looking down, he saw Yuna and gasped.

"Yuna my favorite girl!" He exclaimed, crouching to give her a hug which she gladly returned. You just rolled your eyes and continued to stare at him angrily.

You weren't sure why but he was getting on your nerves. "Ah right! What brings you here all the way from Australia? Important businesses?" Your mom asked.

"Ah no, I'm here to visit someone important to me. And maybe get married," He said happily.

"Ah really!?" Your moms eyes widened.

"That being said, Nina I want to marry your daughter!" He exclaimed. What???

"Excuse me?" You scowled.

"I wasn't talking to you glasses I was talking to little Yuna over here. Yuna will you marry me?" He exclaimed dramatically. Yuna giggled and shook her head.

"No!" "No!" Both you and Yuna yelled at the same time.

"Quick question Nina, is she in a bad mood or was she born this way?" Chan asked you mom, making your anger skyrocket.

"Shes always like this-" you mom said and you whined. "Mom!"

"Hahaha it's okay we can work on it." He said nonchalantly.

"Work on it-?" "Anyways! It was nice meeting you all, I'll see you at 8 o clock!" Chan said.

"8 o clock?" Your mom questioned.

"For dinner! At your place. I'm you're new neighbor, obviously you'll invite to show your hospitality... won't you?" He asked looking hopeful.

"Okay..." your mom said.

"Also, glasses over here might be a bit angry with you when I go. Apologies for that! Bye now!" He gave Nina the dish and walked off.

What just happened?