#i don’t think the rest of them would have a good reason to die

[ghosthoodie]

now you've got me wondering... what would happen in a scenario where any of the other agents died? (you don't have to answer this if you want, i am just very curious.)

OOOOH u so angsty….. imma be kinda brief since there’s a lot to go through here!

Sicily (Three)

if sicily died that’d be pretty damn catastrophic LOL. her cause of death would probably be related to unattended injuries or bleeding out.

kait of course wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. she’d keep close to other people to help her cope with the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to her. they can’t stop themselves from crying every day.

callie, marie, and caroline would mourn her as if they lost a sister. they’d pack up her things and keep sentimental things of hers for themselves, as a way to remember. they also manage 8.

trikaya, mitsuo and lil buddy would probably leave the splatoon after that. they would be too scared to even attempt to go back again. they keep in touch with the other members, though!

ryley hears about this, and decides to get back into the splatoon. he feels like he wants to sort of… give back to sicily for what she did for him way back when? he’s a confusing guy….

Caroline (Four)

if caroline died, the splatoon would be left with a lot of their strength and resources. her cause of death would probably be an internal problem, such as brain damage, since she’s so physically fit.

sicily would be strong at first, but would begin to break down when she realizes that she truly is gone. she always tries to tell jokes to her, but sobers when she realizes that she’s not there to hear them.

kait would do something similar to sicily. she’s heartbroken that one of her closest friends is no longer a part of her life.

of the squisters, marie would be the most upset. she feels like four was her responsibility and she failed, let alone that she was a good friend of hers. callie tries to comfort her and cheer her up, but it’s hard for her too…

trikaya and mitsuo haven’t really gotten to know her, so they’re not really affected that much. but they stick around to support their grieving friends with some childish wonder.

Trikaya and Mitsuo (New Threes)

if the new threes perished on their campaign, ROTM, that would mean sicily would take over as the exploring agent. their cause of death would be related to the mission, either suffocation from the fuzzy ooze or injuries from the octarian soldiers they fight.

sicily would have a big hole in her heart. she thought these children that she had promised to protect were ultimately dead because of her. she took their small bodies to the surface and gave them a proper funeral.

kait and caroline take the train over for the funeral, and comfort sicily and tell her it wasn’t her fault. they go out for drinks and sicily cries and cries and cries

callie and marie begin to realize just how taxing hiring little kids is, and start discussing hiring older cephalos to do the work.

[neo-nomatrix]

Sunshine and Midnight Rain

Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader

word count: 851

summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story

a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING

Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.

You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.

“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.

“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.

“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?

“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.

“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.

“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.

“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”

——————

“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.

You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.

“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.

“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.

“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.

You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.

“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.

“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.

“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.

“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.

“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.

“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.

“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.

“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.

“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.

“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.

“He was always my favorite,” he adds.

“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.

“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.

Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.

“You’re staring, again” You mention.

“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.

You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.

“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.

“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”

——————

It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.

As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.

“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.

“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.

You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”

“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks

“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.

“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.

“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”

And maybe, just maybe, he could.

[keferon]

So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

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[nathaslosthershit]

Tiny Notes (OP81)

Summary: Oscar was dying, sitting in his first business meeting after signing with Mclaren. Luckily, a pretty girl his age sat right next to him, and she was certainly not in the mood to pay attention to the meeting.

A/n: I think this is one of my most favorite things I’ve written- it was originally the start to my Franco fic (coming tomorrow) but early on I got the idea to change it to Oscar and went from there. Hope you all enjoy 🫶

Neither Oscar nor the eldest Webber daughter wanted to be at the meeting. Actually Miss. Webber herself would argue that there was no reason for her to be there as she didn’t have an official role at Mclaren. But when her grown adult father pouted like a little kid when she said she’d rather eat her own eyes than sit through a 2 hour long meeting with him just because he ‘wants to spend some time with his first mini me’, she stupidly gave in. Now, as she yawned for the 5th time in the past… god, 6 minutes, she could see her dad wearing a shit eating grin while watching her die of boredom. 

Even as a father, Mark Webber could be such an asshole. 

Oscar didn’t know why he was at this meeting. He knew he had to be there, he had just signed a contract to join Mclaren for the upcoming season, but he didn’t know why they needed him there, especially since he couldn’t understand half the words these businessmen were talking about. Assets? Net Loss? He was just here to drive cars.

Maybe he would have figured out the significance of the meeting, if there hadn’t been a beautiful girl his age sitting right next to him. He had already gotten used to the idea that the Mark Webber was his manager, who currently sat across from him, but now he was expected to pay attention when he was next to an attractive girl?

The meeting might have been boring, but Oscar couldn't say his first day at Mclaren hadn’t been memorable. 

“Isn’t that right, Oscar?” The man standing in the front of the room talking asked. Oscar just looked around, hoping he wan’t the Oscar they were talking to, but when everyone stared at him expectantly, he knew he was fucked. 

“I’m sorry, I didn-”

“It is alright,” The businessman laughed, “I was just saying we were honored to sign a new driver for our second seat, and that he seems very promising, isn’t that right?”

“Oh! Yes, I am good.” Everyone laughed at that, but Oscar hadn’t meant it as a joke. He hadn’t meant it in a egotistical way, he was just being nice by agreeing with the man speaking. 

Luckily, the meeting moved on and Oscar could slouch in his chair and try to disappear and die from embarrassment. 

He thought he was out of the clear, that everyone had forgotten about him and he wouldn’t need to speak for the rest of the… hour and a half. This meeting was brutal.

That was until someone nudged Oscar’s leg and he looked up from his hands in his lap to see the girl next to him had pushed the notebook in front of her over.

Have you been paying attention?

Oscar panicked, he hadn’t meant to make his inattention that obvious.

Instead of picking up the pen, he looked at her and nodded his head, hoping his face was calm and convincing her he had been listening

She was not fooled.

She knew who Oscar was, even before he had been introduced. They hadn’t met formally, her dad didn’t want them to meet after she made a joke about how grateful she is to see that Formula 1 has a ‘hot new boy toy’. She was obviously kidding, or at least she tried to convince her dad that she was. 

It's okay, I’m not either, she wrote again, pushing the pen towards him hoping he would reply and give her something to do while this meeting dragged on. 

I don’t know what they are talking about, Oscar replied, regretting it immediately, not wanting to come across as an idiot to her.

She laughed and Oscar felt his heart flutter at the sound. 

She was in the middle of replying that she didn’t know any of it either, when her dad waved his hand at them, grabbing both the young adults’ attention. 

‘At least act like you care, and stop writing to each other!’ he mouthed to them.

Oscar gulped and began to sweat a little, but the girl next to him just rolled her eyes and made an indecent gesture. She’s got guts, he had to give her that. 

But Mark didn’t do anything but try to conceal his laughter, somehow he wasn’t mad at the girl for disrespecting him. 

She began to pick up the pen when Oscar grabbed her hand to stop her, mouthing ‘he said we can’t’

He didn’t want his manager getting mad at him. 

Meanwhile Mark Webber’s eldest daughter loved to annoy her dad, but she knew he loved it too.

“He didn’t say anything about tic-tac-toe” she whispered softly into Oscar’s ear, giving him goosebumps and sending a chill down his spine. That shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did.

Get a grip, Piastri.

So they played tic-tac-toe, and other stupid games to pass the time, until it was finally the moment they were all dismissed from the meeting. 

Both the young adults actually groaned when they realized the meeting was over. 

Oscar didn’t get time to say anything to the girl as his teammate, Lando Norris, came up to have a quick chat. He liked Lando, he really did, but his timing was terrible.

Luckily, the brit could see Oscar was anxious to leave, and he could see who was making him anxious.

“Ohhhhhh, interesting choice, Piastri. Out of everyone you set your eyes on her? Good luck with that, mate.” Lando laughed as he patted Oscar on the back.

What the hell did he mean by that?

She had been waiting for her dad to grab something from his office, but she was also kind of possibly waiting for Oscar to come out of the room. When she looked over and saw Lando was the reason he was being held up, she scoffed.

Leave it to Norris to cockblock her. 

She turned around, not wanting to get caught staring, and impatiently tapped her foot as she waited for her dad to come back. No sooner than she saw him walking as slowly as he could down the hallway, which he was doing because he saw how impatient she was, she got a tap on her shoulder. 

“I just- wanted to say thanks for keeping me sane during the meeting.” Oscar said. “Oh uh, I’m Oscar, I'll be driving for the team next year.” He said awkwardly as he stuck his hand out.

Was it rude to imply she didn’t know who he was, or rude to assume she did?

“I know who you are, Oscar.” She laughed, shaking his hand. “I probably know more about you than 99% of that room.”

That confused him. “Can I at least get your name the-”

“Oscar, what was rule number one when I became your manager?” Mark Webber said, scaring the two of them as he snuck up behind the girl.

Shit, “Uh, don’t bring up Multi 21,” he replied, realizing he had just broken that rule by bringing it up. 

The girl giggled at that, and Oscar felt his heart stop. He also felt a blush creep on his face, one that Mark too saw and by his frown, Oscar could tell he disapproved.

“No- well yes, but the other big rule.”

“If I meet any of you or other racing drivers’ daughters, I am not allowed to flirt or befriend or speak or look or breathe near any of them.” Oscar didn’t understand why that needed to be a rule but he thought fighting Mark on it wouldn’t go well. 

“Damn, two rules broken on your first day, Piastri?” The girl laughed.

“What?” Was all he replied. Then he connected the dots. The glares and looks shared between the girl and Mark, her being able to flip him off and him not getting offended by it, the fact they walked in together.

Mark and his eldest daughter could see as Oscar reached his conclusion.

“Fuck I’m- I didn’t know that- Well you see-” There was no getting out of this.

Thankfully, Mark just laughed, “it’s alright buddy, just never speak to her ever again.” Oscar shuddered at the way his manager’s expression grew darker at the end of his sentence.

The two Webbers walked away from the young driver, arguing or joking with each other, Oscar couldn’t tell, when a paper slipped out of the girl’s hand. 

Oscar picked it up and went to tell her she had dropped it, when he saw what was written on it.

Don’t listen to him, he is an overprotective ass ;)

How had she known ahead of time that her Dad would disapprove? Before he could question it further, he flipped the note to see her number was written on the back. 

Thank god he was forced to be at that useless meeting.

[sungchanarcade]

aftercare w/ riize

this is my first post yayyy!! i'm marina and welcome to my blog! i'm happy ur here :)

shotaro

he would help with cleaning up, but only like… the bare minimum😭

if he was rough with you then he wouldn’t let you get out of bed and instead he’d bring back a towel and some water so you don’t have to move

whether it was intense or not though, he would always be so gentle when cleaning you up. has at least 12 different ways to ask “are you okay?” and you bet he uses all of them every time. he hates the idea of accidentally hurting you without realizing so he always checks in with you

speaking of checking in, he’s definitely asking for feedback after😭 but it’s always in the form of teasing. “you sounded so pretty screaming my name, do i really make you feel that good?” (he also asks questions just to fuel his ego)

has a thing for kissing your shoulder once he’s done and he needs to kiss your bare skin before getting you a clean shirt (that definitely belongs to him) or he’ll get pouty—once, you’d gotten dressed before he could get his kiss and he made you take off your shirt again😐

but despite all his sweetness, that is the extent of his cleanup. would rather die than change the sheets. if they’re actually unusable, he’s taking them off, covering his mattress with a blanket, and leaving everything else to deal with when you two wake up

euseok

SUCH a gentleman oh my god, he’d be a dream

probably rougher during sex but the second you’re finished it’s like a switch flips, suddenly he exists only to care for you and is prepared to travel to the ends of the earth to make you as comfortable as possible

if you shower, you won’t have to lift a finger, he’ll wash your hair for you and massage your shoulders. if you don’t, he’ll clean you up with a towel and rub lotion into your skin (it’s calming enough to send you to sleep more than once)

he feels like he can’t rest until he knows you’re feeling good, even if that means fighting his own tiredness to do so, which is both a blessing and a curse because he never lets you give him the same treatment unless you like… fight him over it (you’ve only won 2 times, once after he’d come back from traveling for two weeks so he was clingy and tired, and again on his birthday)

but he’s similar to shotaro in the sense that he is so so gentle when he touches you. i think he’d love to just constantly let his hands wander, fingertips brushing over your bare skin like he’s saying “i love you” with his hands

sungchan

this mf is passed the fuck out as soon as you’re done 😭

but i think it mostly comes from the fact that he tends to accidentally overexert himself during sex without realizing. poor baby doesn’t realize his stamina isn’t as high as he thinks it is

he likes making you cum at least twice every time, even if it means denying his own release until you’ve already finished, so he unintentionally overstimulates himself every time

crying in bed is probably common with him tbh (the thought of him feeling so good he’s literally in tears actually drives me insane)

cums so much. like so much. orgasm denial + massive cock (we all know it) = so so messy. cleaning up would probably be a nightmare, especially since he’ll be too fucked out to move, much less help, so sometimes you make him wear a condom for the sole reason that you don’t feel like putting yourself through cleaning him up by yourself

on the rare occasions when he doesn’t immediately fall asleep he would still be super tired after. the two of you would take a shower together and you’d have to wash his hair for him while he just holds you in his arms and tries not to fall asleep on your shoulder. he’d also be really clingy, but that’s a thought for another day

wonbin

pillow princess will be a pillow princess… this man is NOT moving

he would also want you to be the one to clean him off (princess treatment) but he won’t fall asleep. he likes to watch you and he always has so much love in his eyes that it almost makes it worth it to be in charge of cleaning up by yourself (almost)

but if you have to change the sheets after—he definitely loves messy sex—he will help you with that, you just have to give him at least 15 minutes before he even considers getting out of bed

he wouldn’t be exhausted after like sungchan, i think he’d recover after a bit of a break and then have enough energy to strip the sheets and start laundry, sometimes even make a snack or meal for the two of you, he just needs some time to regain energy

sometimes he’d cook something or take a bath together, but his favorite thing to do is always just getting back in bed and cuddling. the conversations y’all would have during late hours… he always makes sure you feel safe with him and is a very attentive listener, no matter how unimportant the topic of conversation might seem

seunghan

likes to care for you, but wants to be done as soon as possible

he falls somewhere between shotaro and eunseok when it comes to how much effort he’s putting in. he loves making you happy—he loves loving you—but he’s going to do just the necessary steps because he wants to lay back down with you as quickly as he can

another big post-sex cuddler, it’s necessary to him. he’s a very touchy person all the time, he’s always got an arm around you or hugging you from behind, and that energy amplifies whenever you two are alone so he can’t keep his hands off you for too long

totally gets distracted at least 4 times because “just one kiss” always leads to ending up back in bed tangled up in each other until you remind him that you still need to change the sheets. without that reminder he for sure would forget entirely and probably fall asleep

sohee

to him, aftercare is a two person event. but he sees it as less of a task to be completed and more as an extension of sex, like it’s a part of the whole experience for him

he gets very giggly, a lot of big smiles and cheek kisses. he loves washing your hair for you and gets so so happy when you return the favor. 

after your shower you always do each other’s skincare and it takes twice as long because he keeps stopping to kiss you (“your chapstick tastes better than mine”)he sees aftercare as something just as intimate as sex, just in a different atmosphere, so all his tender touches and soft words are just as special and give just as much effort (and boy does he deliver every. time.)

anton

another one who will take on all the work so you won’t have to move. any complaints will be silenced with a kiss (but just as you start getting into it he breaks away with a cheeky smile)

he really likes holding you

 he’ll hug you into his chest while you wait for the shower to warm up

he’ll stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist to rest his chin on your shoulder while watching you comb your hair

once you’re both back in bed best believe he is not letting you out of his arms and will start whining if you even try pulling away

i feel like he’d mess up your hair (just a little) when you’re in the middle of combing it out just to get a reaction out of you, but every time he’ll just cup your face and his smile is SO big and then it’s impossible to be mad anymore

[mywritersmind]

HI KIMI - KA12

summary : she loves to tease, he can’t help but blush.

listen up : not proofread! kinda hate it! totowolffdaughter!reader. really into the whole bosses daughter thing rn

word count :

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My weekend will always be good when I'm at the Paddock. But there’s one factor that may make it a bit more interesting. A dangerous factor that it’s tan, cute, with curly hair. The same factor that is completely off limits.

Kimi Antonelli walks into the garage as I sit in an engineer's seat, chewing gum and scrolling on my phone.

Most everyone is gone on break except for a few sticking around and talking about the cars. I spin around in the chair so I’m facing him, blowing a bubble with my gum and grinning, “Hi, Kimi.”

He walks up to me slowly, smirking. “Hey, Wolff.”

“How’s my favorite future driver, today?” I sit up straight as he shrugs, clearly liking my antics.

“Pretty good.” He sits across from me, “You?”

Before I can answer, I'm interrupted by my lovely father, yelling. “Y/n! Your mom wants you.” I pout at him as he eyes Kimi, “Now.”

I sigh dramatically and stand, “Duty calls.” I smile at Kimi, not missing the blush on his cheeks as I walk past my dad and into the hallway.

Kimi and I have known eachother forever, my dads obsessed with him, and he’s on the grid for next year. This means two things for my dad,

Mr. Toto Wolff will have someone to bandage his broken heart after Lewis.

He will have a permanent headache with me and Kimi around 24/7.

My dad loves Kimi, he loves him so much that he won’t let me get near the kid! As soon as puberty hit and Kimi started blushing at me, my dad vetoed even the thought of us.

But now we’re adults, and Kimi got hot.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I do have another job then being a permanent fixture to annoy my father and flirt with Kimi. I’m interning with Mercedes (yeah i’m a nepo baby, cry about it.) I work with their socials (yes that’s why they’re so funny!)

I’m videoing Lewis talking to Kimi because apparently I'm the only one who can get Lewis to shoot a funny video. They let me enjoy my tiktok trend before Lewis and George are off in their cars.

I stand with my dad and Kimi, watching them go around for quali.

As soon as Lewis gets out in Q1 and my dad just stares at the screen, I tap Kimi and motion to the door.

We end up in hospitality with all the food, “Are you going to use me to piss off your dad, forever?” He grabs his plate and sits next to me, we both turn behind us to see the cars go around the track.

I shrug and sip my water, “Yes. But I don’t just mess with you to mess with him.” He raises a brow, “I do it because you blushing is hilarious and sorta cute.” He blushes at my words.

“You’re the worst.” He bites into his cookie, “And are probably gonna get me fired.”

I laugh, “Please, my dad would fire me before you!”

He sighs and rests his head against the chair, his curls falling into his face. We watch Alex spin but straighten himself out, both of us sighing. It’s weird to think that Kimi is going to be in one of those cars next year.

“Are you scared?” I face him, his head tilts to me, thinking about it.

“Not really. I’ve always known it’s dangerous but I'm moving up for a reason.” When my dad told me Kimi was getting the 2025 seat, I told him he was too young.

I would die if Kimi found out, but I have to watch all my friends, people who are like brothers to me, crash and take eachother out every week. So maybe I'm a little scared for him.

“You okay?” I realize i’ve been zoning out, So I nod and smile, “Ready to go back? Quali is almost over and i’m trying to get the team to like m-” My eyes are pulled away from him as I see the familiar black and teal car go into the gravel.

“It’s over, now, actually.” We both cringe at George ending quali, “Congratulations Lando.”

“Do not go drool all over him, Wolff.” we start to make our way back, turning to Kimi so i’m walking backwards.

“Kimi Antonelli! Are you jealous?” He doesn’t find his amusing.

“I’m going to find Ollie.” He rolls his eyes at my kissing noises.

“Have fun with your boyfriend!” He flips me off, “Talk about me!” He looks back, shooting me a look that makes my stomach flip.

“I always do.” His accent is smooth and easy.

“What?” He keeps walking away from me, “You always do what!? Talk about me? Have fun with the horsey haas!? Kimi!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The next day I follow the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders around. They're crazy pretty and so talented in a way that’s different from all the drivers I'm constantly around.

I leave them be when Ollie drags me in front of the camera for F1 TV. Ollie and I grab coffee and look around for a bit before we find Kimi who’s holding a plate full of whipped cream.

“I’m getting flashbacks to your birthday.” I shake my head as we approach him, “We could always recreate it!” I reach for the plate but he pulls it away quickly. Damn drivers' reflexes.

“Hey, some people from the track are coming to my hotel and swimming tonight. Wanna join? My least favorite thing about America is the whole 21 thing. But sober fun is still fun!” Ollie claps his hands together, Kini and I nod before Kimi and I get called back into the Mercedes garage.

My dad eyes us, “Really Y/n?” I furrow my brows at him, this time I actually did nothing wrong! I sit with Carmen during the race, cringing as Lewis gets rolled back into the garage.

But George does great and I try hard not to laugh as I listen to his radio. George and Carmen are like my parents in Mercedes. Even though my actual parents are in Mercedes too.

Honestly the day goes by in a blur, I avoid the garage because Lewis did poorly and George did well. So the vibes are off and I make my way to Vcarb.

Except I get intercepted by Kimi and a cupcake. I take it suspiciously, “Poison?”

“You’ll have to find out.” He deadpans as we walk slowly. Suddenly I'm not in a rush to congratulate Liam.

The cupcake is very good and not poisonous. I groan, tilting my head back, “Fuck, K, I could kiss you!”

He stays quiet as I finish my cupcake. When I look at him he’s looking away with an odd expression on his face, “Relax Antonelli, I promise I won’t kiss you.”

He bites back a smile, “Don’t make promises neither of us want you to keep.” This is unusual. Kimi doesn’t usually flirt back. He’ll make a remark or two but the austin air must be doing something to him.

It makes me feel weird and I like it.

Liam rounds the corner with a smile on his face. I snap out of focusing on Kimi and hug Liam quickly, “Ew. You’re gross. But congratulations!”

“Yeah you killed it mate.” Kimi fist bumps the blonde as he nods.

“Points and fucking with fernando! I’m proud.” Liam laughs and thanks us. But a weird part of me is still stuck on what Kimi said.

When he nudges me after Liam leaves, I flinch, “Shit, Wolff. You’ve been weird today.” He just walks away, I follow while running my hands over my face.

Fuck my life. What is happening!?

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Ollie!” I hug the tall brit as he raises a brow, “Yay!”

“Thought we were supposed to be dry tonight.”

I would say, Well I’m with Kimi tonight so i’m never dry. But even I am can control myself better than that.

I just shrug as Kimi takes over, “She had two shots.”

“A confidence booster!” I smile and take my towel from mimi, skipping over to the girls.

I don’t have many girl friends around the paddock, but I like this group and they seem to like me too. We all get into our swimsuits, going to the bathroom so my friend can braid her hair.

“Who’s the italian?” a new girl says. She’s Ollie’s friend, I think she knows Franco too.

Lia Block, my favorite F1 related woman ever, laughs, “Ask Y/n.”

“Shit. Are you two dating?”

“Uh… no.” I laugh awkwardly.

“Oh!” She frowns, “So… hooking up?”

I shake my head, “No, just friends! We’ve known eachother forever.”

“I think they’re made to be!” Lia wraps her arms around my shoulders, I can see her smiling in the mirror, “But Kimi is a shy idiot.”

“But he’s single?”

Lia laughs uncomfortably, “I think it’s time to swim!”

The water is freezing so I end up in the jacuzzi with Lia. I’m watching Kimi talk to his new girl, “He’s not flirting, you know.”

I dunk my head but she pulls me back up, “He can be!”

“No!” She shakes me, “You’re a big fat liar!”

“He has free will! I like to flirt with him, not be with him!” Her eyes narrow before Kimi jumps into the jacuzzi, splashing us.

Lia shakes her head and dives back in the pool, Kimi frowns at her, “What do I smell?”

I sink back into the water, suddenly feeling very aware of my every movement in my black bikini. “Yeah, like pool water.”

He sits on the step next to me, the water up to his neck as he warms up, “I’ve come to hide.” He floats closer towards me.

“Ollie bugging you?” I joke as he shakes his head.

“You told her I was single!”

“You are!”

He gives me a look. The type of look that makes me want him to say that he isn’t, and that I’m not either. “You could have lied.”

“And why would I do that?” His eyes meet mine and it’s that feeling again. He looks away, the blush on his cheeks not from the steam.

“Kimi!” The girl yells from the pool and he turns to me slowly.

“You did this.”

I scoff, “I did not! If you aren’t single then who will I flirt with.” I pout, joking as he moves his arm around me, touching the jacuzzi wall and not me.

I smirks a bit, “If I wasn’t single I'd be with you.”

I lean in, “When did you get so confident?”

“Quite recently actually!” I could have sworn his eyes flickered down to my lips, “I learned from the best.”

“You speak so highly of me, I'm honored.”

“You should hear my thoughts.” I narrow my eyes at him, trying not to look at his arms or past his chin at all.

“You’re playing with fire here, Antonelli.”

He tilts his head, “You play with me everyday.”

“This payback?”

“No. Just foreplay.” I almost choke. My cheeks going red as Kimis smile grows, “You look good blushing too.”

“Time to swim!” I hurry away and practically fall into the pool. I dunk my head, thinking about today.

Next week will be worse, we have plans for next week! Mexico is next week.

I will be ignoring him next week.

[munson-blurbs]

Headcanon: Eddie is a boob man. Best friend Eddie would one day notice your boobs (maybe in a bathing suit or a low cut top or something) and they become his new obsession hehe

Us? Projecting? Never.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unwanted boners, semi-public masturbation (m), Eddie's a perv but he's not thrilled about it, Reader has boobs but no size is given (Eddie loves all boobs, let's be real)

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

Stupid D20. 

Stupid Dustin for tossing it so far across the table. 

Stupid low-cut shirt that exposes your chest when you lean over to collect the die, giving Eddie a stupid boner in the middle of Hellfire Club. 

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth calls out impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the Dungeon Master’s face. “You wanna tell us if we defeated the demogorgon, or are you just gonna stare off into space?”

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry. Right.” He tries his best to proceed with the campaign as usual, but all he can think about are your boobs and how grateful he is to be sitting down right now. 

When he adjourns the meeting, he’s still too hard to stand without someone noticing. “I’m just gonna, uh, hang back and brainstorm for a few,” he lies as smoothly as he can. 

“Can’t wait to see what sadistic shit you come up with,” Mike says. The rest of the guys slap him five in agreement as they clamor out the door. 

The only people left in the room are you and Eddie. 

Of course. 

“You don’t have to stick around, Sweetheart.” He tries not to sound too dismissive, plastering a smile on his face. 

“You’re my ride.”

Shit. “Oh. Right.” He hedges a nervous laugh. “I’ll be ready in five.”

You nod. “No worries. I’ll run to the girls’ room while I wait.” Before reaching the door, you notice that Lucas’s character sheet has fluttered to the ground. You reach down and scoop it up, revealing the tops of your bra-covered breasts. 

“Sinclair owes me,” you chirp, placing the paper back on the table, remaining utterly oblivious to the way Eddie is straining against his zipper once again. 

To Eddie’s credit, he tries to stop thinking about them. He really, truly does. 

You’re his best friend. He doesn’t want to constantly think about your boobs, or the way they’d feel pressed against his bare chest, or whether your nipples would harden if he sucked on them, or—

“Mr. Munson!” Ms. O’Donnell’s shrill screech snaps him out of his breast-induced stupor. “Is there a reason why you can’t be bothered to listen while I’m trying to teach?”

“N-No, ma’am.”

She huffs out an irritated sigh. “Since you must know everything already, why don’t you come up and solve the problem for us?” She taps the piece of chalk against the blackboard, leaving tiny white dots in its wake. 

Eddie shakes his head, feeling his cheeks burn red. Humiliating himself when he can’t figure out the value of x will be bad enough, but to fail while his sail is at half-mast? He’ll never recover. 

Fortunately, the old bird relents and turns back to the board to continue her lesson. 

Crisis averted. 

Except…is it?

Because the only thing—things, rather—on Eddie’s mind are your tits. And he isn’t supposed to be imagining himself caressing them while you’re bouncing on his cock, moaning his name, saying that only he can make you feel that good…

He’s racing out of his seat the moment the bell rings, making a mad dash for the Hellfire room, relieved to see that it’s unoccupied. The door barely closes behind him before he’s ambling towards his DM throne and frantically tugging down his jeans and boxers. 

“Fucking Christ,” he whispers, inhaling sharply as his cock is free of its denim restraint. He wraps his hand around it and squeezes in his desperation for an ounce of relief. Pre-cum already leaks from his red, angry tip, and he knows from experience that this is not going away without some…intervention. 

Eddie reluctantly lets go of himself and spits into his open palm. He bites his lower lip to stifle a burgeoning moan as he slowly works his shaft, fingers tightening to simulate what he imagines to be the way you’d feel. 

“Thassit, mmmf, feels s’good.” He closes his eyes and rests the back of his head on his chair. He needs you underneath him so he can watch your breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. 

“Bet you want my cum, huh? Where do you want it?” Eddie keeps his voice low, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Want it on those pretty tits of yours? Yeah, you fuckin’ do.”

His fist flies over his hardness, choked whimpers escaping his lips. He feels pleasure begin to build and moans your name to bring himself over the edge. 

“Yeah?”

Eddie’s head snaps forward, taking a moment to let reality seep in. He’s not buried deep within you; he’s jerking off in a dark room where he plays Dungeons & Dragons, and you’re standing in the doorway. 

“Eds? You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. ‘M fine,” he lies, silently brainstorming ways to tuck himself back into his pants without you noticing. 

You arch a disbelieving brow. “You sure? Lucas said he saw you running down the hallway—”

“I’m fine!” He insists louder this time. Shaking his head, he bites his lip and attempts to collect himself. 

The two of you have been friends for too long; you know that he’s far from fine when he raises his voice. You walk to him, determined to figure out what’s wrong. 

And then you see it. 

Eddie says nothing, fully focused on covering himself as best he can and avoiding eye contact. 

It doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together: semi-hard cock in his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, the pleading mentions of your name. 

“Eddie.” You let your fingertips brush against his shoulder. “Did I interrupt?”

He only nods in response. 

“What were you thinking about?”

Eddie exhales a long breath before answering. “You,” he finally answers. “And th-that shirt you wore yesterday.” His cock twitches at the mere reminder of it. 

You grin knowingly. You’d bought it at the mall specifically because of its low-cut neckline, hoping it would catch Eddie’s attention. 

Apparently, it very much had. 

“You liked it?” 

“Loved it.” He starts stroking himself again, almost unaware of his own movements. “Want you to wear it every damn day,” he adds with a hoarse chuckle. 

Swiping your tongue over your lower lip, you lean in and whisper in his ear, “What if I didn’t wear one at all?”

With that, you lift your shirt over your head and unhook your bra, letting them both fall to the ground unceremoniously. Eddie’s eyes widen, gazing at your exposed chest. 

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, his free hand reaching out to touch them. His thumb grazes one nipple and he gives your breast a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they’re perfect.”

You smile, using your hip to nudge the table away and get on your knees in front of him. “Keep going, Eds.”

He nods again, shifting forward a bit so you’re between his legs. “Gonna…gonna cum all over these perfect tits,” he grunts. “Please. Please, I gotta…”

“You can cum on them, Eds.”

And, fuck, does he. Thick ropes spill out of his cock, painting your chest in a sticky film. He’s crying out your name as he does it, milking every last drop. 

He floats down from the high, staring at your chest and admiring the way he’s claimed you. “That…wow,” he manages, laughing nervously. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissues, wiping whatever is still leaking out of him before sopping up the mess on your breasts. 

“I don’t know where we go from here,” he admits sheepishly, wadding up the Kleenex and tossing it into the trash. “Like, do I take you on a date? Bend you over the table?” He says the second option teasingly, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t turn you down if you agreed to it. 

You re-clasp your bra and shrug on your shirt. “We could try a date,” you say as casually as you can. 

“Dinner and a movie?”

“I’ll wear that shirt.”

--

[captain-joongz]

Cinderella

Pairing: club owner!Min Yoongi x f!reader x right-hand man!Jung Hoseok

Genre: non-idol au, pure fucking smut i'm not even playing, a hint at s2l??

Summary: Question - what is something that might help a shameless brat trapped in a body of a shy girl come out of her shell? Answer - two hot owners of a local club more than happy to whip her into shape.

Word count: 19.7k (i'm sorry lol)

Warnings: ginger Yoongi and that mama 2022 red carpet Hoseok (*in Britney Spears voice* a guy like you should wear a warning~), intoxication, min yoongi hands, they're softer doms, threesome, oral (f rec.), breath play and slight choking (i'm so predictable), light bdsm themes, spanking, bondage, light use of a whip, humiliation and degradation, reader is a right brat, multiple orgasms, overstim, clit slapping

A/N: indulge in this sope brainrot :). when i tell you this scenario changed my life i'm being only a little dramatic, long live our dom kings and i will die on this hill

„Come on Y/N, you should totally give it a try!” one of my friends exclaimed, drunkenly leaning on another one of our gals to her right, “You never know! And you should be more confident!” Other girls sitting around the dingy sticky table in the club we were currently in all enthusiastically nodded and grumbled their own supportive comments.

I looked over them, still unsure, and then back to the ginger man sitting on the bar, relaxedly swirling a glass of an amber gold liquid and occasionally taking a sip. He wasn’t really talking to anyone, just sat there and watched the two guys manning the bar wordlessly, which in my friends’ opinion made him an ‘easier target’.

Target of the stupidest game our drunken brains could have come up with – whoever manages to seduce a guy the quickest drinks for free for the rest of the night. The second that suggestion hit the table, I loudly opposed it, for two reasons.

First, it seemed kinda mean. And secondly, and most importantly, I was terrified of coming up to someone and just flirting. That’s not something I did, not that I was against it or for the lack of trying, and occasionally I entertained when someone came up to me and flirted, sometimes even going home with them. But I was shy, and when I got shy I got painfully awkward, so I’d rather save myself from that embarrassment.

“Yeah, it would do you some good,” my best friend Yeri, a tall thin pretty girl with her hair dyed cupid pink, suddenly turned to me and joined into the fray, “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re super hot and somehow you don’t realise it at all.” She was already a little tipsy as well, her posture more relaxed than usual as she giggled along every other word. There’s no love like drunk girl talking to her friends.

“That’s easy for you to say, you already finished your mission!” I whined back to her, the whole table’s undivided attention on me. To keep the stakes high and the game fair, we collectively selected a few guys and randomly divided them between us – each of us went to a specific man that was chosen by us and given to each girl.

But mine was out of this world, like unfairly so out of my league it would be embarrassing to even try. The moment I lost the game of rock paper scissors, I tried to bargain my way out of it – there was no way I could bag a guy like that in under a minute! That was insanity! But the girls wouldn’t budge, telling me to challenge myself and have faith in myself. That was easy of them to say when they didn’t have to walk up to a god amongst men and try to awkwardly flirt with him.

“Look at that guy, if I tried to talk to him he’d probably think I’m the valet or something,” I continued to grumble, as the constant stream of complaints didn’t stop since I lost the game.

Our attention collectively jumped back to him as he sat there. He had the kind of smirk on his face that was annoyingly effortlessly hot, giving him the aura of someone who was very well aware of his otherworldly qualities. The black tee with some kind of white print was oversized just right to be fashionable and hung off of his frame in a way that enhanced his physique in the best way. Black cargo pants and black boots gave him a punk vibe, and the whole look was finished with some chunky steel rings and necklaces that somehow managed to be even more hot and not look gaudy at all. My eyes trailed down to the rings, which were comfortably sat on one of the best hands I’ve ever seen, and I had to physically stop myself from drooling.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell I could just hit on that.

“What’s the worst that could happen? He says no. It’s worth a try,” Hana, another part of the friend group tried to wheedle me into going one more time. They all probably sensed I was about to give them another rebuttal, and an understanding passed through all of them.

Suddenly several pairs of hands were manhandling me, pulling me onto my legs and out of from the booth with the table we were sitting at. I let myself be pushed to the edge of the seat, too confused about what’s going on. Someone pushed a glass of alcohol in my hand and I downed it, resigning myself to this happening. A wave of compliments and encouragements washed over me, and I turned on shaky knees, those several drinks I’d already had making themselves known now that I was stood.

I took a step forward, froze, another few steps, and then promptly power-walked all the way back to the table. There was some booing and some disappointment, the girls already grumbling about how I shouldn’t chicken out now.

“How do you even flirt with someone like that?!” I hissed out in panic, not having the slightest idea of how to initiate conversation.

A barrage of tactics flew over me, one stranger than the next one, but I turned to Yeri, trusting her the most. “Just be really bold, he seems the type to like it,” she told me once she saw my trembling eyes, “walk over all confident and say something really crazy and ballsy.” With one last smile she started pushing me away into the direction of the bar again.

Easier said than done! ‘Just be bold’, thanks very much! That was the problem from the very beginning!

Putting my complaints away and pushing my brain to think of something to say to the rapidly approaching bar-dweller, I nervously dragged my gaze over him several times, stumbling in my distractedness several times. Come on brain, what do we like about him? What can we say?

As the man got closer and I got a clearer look at him, one thought overpowered every other – hands hands handshandshands.

I basically crashed into the bar upon my arrival, somewhat inelegantly attempting to lean into it with way too much force. The man startled a little before his eyes jumped up and looked straight at me, no distinct emotion discernible in them, but he certainly didn’t look extremely friendly.

Before I could stop myself, I let go of the reins over my drunken brain and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What nice necklaces you got there, but don’t you think they’d look better around my neck?”

I tried to sell the statement more by putting on a (hopefully) cheeky smirk and then pointedly looked at his hands coquettishly.

The man froze, only stared at me wide-eyed and shocked to his core, hand holding his glass halfway to his lips. Silence. I started panicking, and basically begun melting down with the shame and humiliation, already prepared to apologise and slink off to some dark corner and die there, but then he smiled.

It was a wide shit-eating grin, a devilish glint in his gaze now as he obviously checked me out, eyes gliding over my figure in a clearly appreciative manner. He put his charm on thick, lips curled smugly as he stared me quite intensely.

“Well, I don’t know princess, guess you’ll have to try them out,” his voice was basically a purr, a deep rumble that started up in his chest and drawled out of his mouth in a velvet perfection. I shuddered, now quickly getting flustered when he was flirting back. But I steeled myself, determined to bring this to a successful end. Mama didn’t raise no quitter.

“Oh, and you’d let me have a test drive?” I drawled out with my fingers playing with my hair (how basic!!), only a light stutter to my words that immediately sent a wave of heat to my already red cheeks. I only hoped it wasn’t visible under the lights of the club and the bar.

He leaned forward, chest now pressed into the edge of the bar, which brought our faces impossibly close. His eyes were dark and half-lidded, full of lust and dark promises, as his lips stretched in a self-satisfied smirk. The hand that used to hold the glass was now slowly, teasingly making its way up the skin of my naked arm, breaking a wave of goosebumps in its wake.

My whole body quivered, and my next exhale came out shaky; it was too audible in the tense atmosphere between the two of us. He must have definitely heard and felt my reaction, judging by his soft snicker, expression full of amusement and desire. Then his eyes bore into me, into my very soul, and threatened to consume me.

“I’d let you do that and a whole lot more, princess,” it was a whisper, but that didn’t take away from the intensity of the statement and the promise in his words. It poured over me like hot honey, my back immediately straightening and thighs pushing together on instinct, trying to contain the gush of sensations hitting my lower tummy and my heat. Very embarrassingly, I could already feel my panties rapidly getting wetter and wetter; the effect of the man was immense and he knew it very well, judging by the smug aura.

With a satisfied grin his hand moved from my arm down to my thigh, squeezing the flesh right under the hem of my mini skirt. The twitch that tore through me was completely involuntary and once again I found myself fighting for every shaky breath taken.

A quiet melodic laugh hit my ears and then the ginger menace leaned even closer to whisper straight into my ear. “Cute,” was all he muttered before he pulled all the way away from me, raising his hand to catch the attention of the barman, “but first, let me treat you to a drink, kitten.”

That suddenly snapped me back into reality and my brain jumped back online. As if waking up from a terribly amazingly sweet dream, I remembered the reason why I came over in the first place – the bet. The bet I thought I would absolutely fail at that I was about to complete now.

A laugh bubbled out of my throat, sweet and mischievous, and all the confidence I pretended to feel before rushed through my body straight into my head. With a giggle I leaned in and said: “A drink you say, huh?”

My smug smirk must have been awfully annoying, but the man only looked at me with curious eyes. He sensed the change in my behaviour immediately and it threw him for a loop – his amazingly brave little lamb was now laughing at him like the she was the wolf? His head tilted to the side as he tried to figure me out, but I only made sure he was watching me as I gestured thumbs up back to my friends.

The whole table erupted into cheers, Yeri was wildly gesturing something to me and it took a moment to realise she was trying to say I won. Her finger was pointing at her phone that had the stopwatch app open and she was laughing joyfully and sending me thumbs up. I grinned at her back, elated that I was able to not only overcome the initial fear but also best all the others.

Turning back to the ginger who was watching the whole interaction with curious surprised eyes, suddenly unsure and a little less dominant. I giggled at him, happily plucked the prepared colourful drink from his waiting hand and stood up, not before bowing to him slightly.

“Thank you very much, I appreciate your help,” I teased him with a wide smile, going as far as to lean heavily into his side until my lips were almost pressed to his ear as he did to me earlier and then whispered my killer shot: “It was pleasure doing business with you.”

With that I walked away, hips swaying side to side and confidence like I’d never felt coursing through my veins. The atmosphere at the table was unrivalled, and I had to admit it was probably the most fun I’d ever had on a night out so far, and I probably indulged in the free drinks far more than I should have.

But whenever I’d start feeling a little bad for my behaviour, I’d shyly look towards the bar, hoping I wouldn’t see the man too upset. He wasn’t. Anytime our eyes met, the wild primal hunger reflected in his would threaten swallow me whole, sending little shocks of pleasure and heat through my whole body.

That night I spent dancing feeling those eyes bore into me, eating up my every movement and salivating over me so openly I felt the fire of his lust all across the club. He never disappointed, never failed to deliver, and I lived for it.

And if I put on a little more show than I usually did while swaying my hips and dancing to slow sensual beats, that was only my business.

“I can’t believe you managed to talk me into coming here again,” I muttered grumpily to Yeri, who was happily vibrating next to me, her wide grin almost infecting me with the joy as well, but I held steadfast and kept on a frown just because. To prove a point, actually.

The girls (the same group as last time) were excitedly chattering in the line right behind us as we stood in the blistering heat of the setting sun on the street, waiting to be let inside a club. Why yes, it was the same club as last time.

The fateful Saturday night happened already full two weeks ago, and since then I haven’t stopped listening about it.

As my friends watched my interaction with the handsome stranger (the next morning, incredibly sore and hungover, I shamefully realised I didn’t even know his name), it suddenly was less about the bet for them and more about rooting for me to go and actually fuck him. I was so embarrassed about their loud drunken outbursts, trying to push me back into his direction and very unsubtly begging me to go and “get some premium dick”, but I stood my ground and never strayed from the dancefloor.

When we were leaving at 4 am – tired, already in the awful stages of slowly sobering up and with melting makeup and blistering feet, I was hounded the whole time about going to get his number at least (which I didn’t). I told them some things just end this way and I was okay with it (I wasn’t). In reality I was just a big fat coward.

The following two weeks were hell on earth – nobody, and I mean nobody, ever stopped talking about the ginger guy and how he had me folding with two or three lines and some charming smirks. The amount of scolding I got daily for not taking him up on his offer or at least giving him some contact info was insane, and I was slowly losing my patience with it.

That’s why when this Saturday the suggestion to go to the club again was thrown into the group chat, I knew it was more about them hoping I’d bump into him again than actually liking the club itself. I fought, valiantly, but I was outvoted. Someone even tried vetoing my disagreement.

So that’s how I found myself here, about to walk inside again in a black pleated mini-skirt, black crop with a heart cutout over my cleavage and cute little strapped heels (outfit courtesy of Yeri who wouldn’t let me walk out of my room until she approved that I was ‘extremely fuckable’) and some courageous makeup that I was slightly unsure about but everyone kept saying it was hot.

I was nervously shuffling, leaning into Yeri’s side as she started comforting me and calming me down.

“Don’t you think it’s even more awkward, seeing him again after I fucked him over like that?” I mumbled into her shoulder, careful about not smudging my red lipstick all over her pretty pink dress. Her arm coiled around me tighter and she quickly shook her head, her curled hair hitting me int the face with every move.

“Absolutely not, you think I didn’t see the way he was eye-fucking you the whole rest of the night? That was foreplay, baby. Now it’s time for the main course,” she recited confidently, and finally pushed us towards the stairs down now that the whole group was inside. I didn’t fully agree with her, to me it was obvious the connection kinda fizzled out by the end of the night, but I didn’t want to burst her bubble.

Tonight I’d go along with them, comfort them through the disappointment of him not being here (because what are the chances, honestly), and if he does show up I’d give him the awkward wave and move on and then they can cry about how anti-climactic this whole thing was. They’ll be sad for about ten minutes and then buy shots and promptly forget about any guys.

That was my plan for the night.

And for a while, everything went according to it. Coming down into the main hall of the club, all eyes (even mine, but I’d never admit it out loud) eagerly turned to the bar which the man was glued to the entire time, only to not see any sign of the ginger bombshell. My heart quivered in disappointment only a tiny bit, but I didn’t let them see, only gave them a look that screamed ‘I told you so’ and moved on.

During the first few rounds I scolded myself for actually letting myself get swayed by their words and hoping for his presence against my better judgement, and quickly convinced my heart that it was for the better he didn’t show up.

For a few hours we danced and drank, and it almost seemed that everyone started forgetting the reason why they even pushed to come here, the whole experience slowly turning into a normal night out, when suddenly Yeri that was dancing next to me loudly gasped into my ear.

It alerted me to her, but before I could even turn to her, she started wildly slapping my shoulder until it hurt.

“Ow, ow! Stop!” I slapped her hand away, considerably gentler than she did to me, and scowled at her slightly irritated with the commotion.

“He’s actually here!” she screamed that in my face, but with the loud music pumping all around us she might as well been whispering. The statement took the wind out of the sails of my slight annoyance and I floundered, stuttering and staring at her wide-eyed.

When Yeri realised I was too shocked to look myself, she grabbed my shoulders and forcefully turned me in the direction of the bar. I almost wanted to close my eyes, not even wanting to believe he actually did come to the club two weeks later and now I was facing the real chance of a terrible let-down, but at the same time I yearned to catch another glimpse of the ginger demon that swung my world upside down in literal seconds.

Tonight he was wearing a plain black hoodie and wider jeans with a single cut on both of his knees, showing off some pale skin that glistened under the flashing lights. He sat in the same spot, which meant currently his back was turned to us and he was none-the-wiser to our presence. He was locked into a long conversation with one of the guys manning the bar. They seemed pretty friendly, which spoke of the fact that he was most probably a frequent visitor.

I felt my palms getting clammy as I suddenly sweated for a very different reason than before. Yeri was excitedly shouting and gesturing at the rest of the group, and I saw some of their very crude and very dirty gestures back, before I turned back to the bar blushing and embarrassed.

Before I knew it, Yeri was fighting our way through the crowd towards the bar and I twisted a little in her hold, panicking and ashamed.

“Yeri, wait! God, please wait!” I pleaded with her, and something in my voice must have been truly desperate because she actually listened to me. With troubled eyes she gave me a once over, clocked in the shaky eyes and unsure knees, and then changed the direction towards the hall with toilets.

It was relatively calmer there, the bass still booming through the walls and the echo of the song playing reaching our ears, but we could actually speak in a semblance of privacy where usually no one lingered for too long.

“What’s wrong?” my best friend asked, and to her credit, she was truly worried, but I couldn’t believe she didn’t understand. I threw my hands out and looked at her incredulously.

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?” I asked her, exasperated, “What don’t you understand about the fact that I maybe don’t want to talk to him again?!” My voice raised a little, and I did feel bad about it, but the whole situation put me too much on edge to apologise immediately.

Yeri didn’t seem to be too offended, instead she just watched me with her steady all-knowing eyes, and it felt like they saw all the way inside my insecure little soul. My face crumbled under the power of that, and I knew she’d have me spilling everything to her anyway by the end of this conversation.

“Y/N, you literally have nothing to worry about,” her guess was correct, just as I feared, and I avoided her softened loving gaze, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, and I know you know that, and I know you think you’re too awkward… But you had that man literally drooling all over himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you until the moment you walked out of that bar. He wants you, a lot.”

“I know that we kind of stared at each other, but I don’t know…” I told her and I hated how weak and vulnerable my voice turned as I spilled out my insecurities to her, “the novelty kind of wore off, didn’t it? Now I’m just an awkward girl stuttering under the gaze of the hottest guy I’ve ever fucking seen. I could barely get a word out when he looked at me.” That had my friend smirking up a storm and I narrowed my eyes at her, already knowing she was about to annoy the shit out of me.

“Yeah, and as someone who watched your entire interaction, he fucking loved it,” she said firmly, a teasing lilt to her words, “Please, trust me. Do you trust me?” Of course I fucking trusted her, so I petulantly nodded, even though I was grumbling to myself that it had nothing to do with that.

“Do you trust that I have a set of functioning eyes?” she teased some more, grinning at me mischievously as she poked me in my ribs with her fingers. Even as I tried to stay upset, the laugh was punched out of me completely involuntarily and I found myself slowly relaxing. When I nodded, her grin turned all happy and toothy.

“Then trust me when I say that the moment you walk up to him, he’ll be over the fucking moon,” her voice was soft and loving, and it almost made me a little mushy, “and trust me when I say that tonight he’ll definitely not let you walk away from him.” She winked as she said that and I laughed at her, pushing her a little teasingly.

I did feel lighter and less stressed. I felt like I could actually go and talk to him again, and I smiled at my best friend, knowing she just wanted the best for me and was always on my side.

“And if he turns out to be a dick, then you’ll come back and I’ll buy us a drink and we’ll curse him out,” she added cheekily, already stepping away from me to head back onto the dancefloor. That made me laugh, because… as if I didn’t say that before.

Rejuvenated and slightly more confident, I turned from Yeri and headed in the opposite direction she went in – straight to the bar. The guy was still sitting there, still turned away from me, but now he seemed to be back to not really engaging with anyone, not even the friendly smiling barman that was currently serving drinks to someone while laughing with his coworker… until he wasn’t.

In an inopportune moment his head turned just right for me to graze the corner of his eye and then he was full on swinging around to do a double take, startling the poor guy he worked with. Suddenly there were two sets of eyes trained on me and I froze, blushing under their gazes as the recognition set in and teasing smirks played on both of their faces.

The dark-haired one then went to wave his hand, but immediately I realised it wasn’t to greet me but to alert the ginger who was kind of just staring off into nowhere. To keep the element of surprise, I lunged into movement, basically jumping the last few steps and crashing into the bar in a terrible déjà vu, trying to look elegant and sexy even as I winced lightly at the impact.

My back was now turned to the two little shits behind the bar, and I could only imagine the expression on their faces, but I was too preoccupied with the wide-eyed stare from the man of the hour himself.

This time he shook off the surprise way quicker, relaxing almost immediately as he realised who I was, a truly smug smirk splitting his face. His gaze was unabashedly travelling all over me, taking in every detail, and I was suddenly reminded of how intense it was to be in the centre of his attention.

“Well, well, look who it is,” he drawled out, but it was more amused than anything and I slowly started letting go of the fear that he was incredibly mad at me for our last meeting, “what, looking for another free drink?”

I flushed with embarrassment, avoiding his eyes as much as possible, which wasn’t that much of a great idea when that brought me to staring at his hands. His cursed, beautiful hands that never strayed too far from my dreams even as I tried to forget about the man.

They started flexing, stretching across the expanse of the thick glass and showcasing their strength, and I realised I was caught. Not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my plight, I turned my gaze somewhere slightly above his shoulder, fixating on a pillar or something that stood directly behind.

“Sorry about that, it was a stupid game,” I stuttered out, trying to ignore his insistent attempts to move his head to where my eyes were trained at, “It was quite rude of me.” He chuckled and I could basically feel the entertainment seeping off of him in waves.

“Don’t worry about it princess,” the velvety purr was back and the ginger clearly decided that if I wasn’t going to look at him, he’ll just try every dirty trick in the book. He leaned into me, lips easily finding the shell of my ear as his hand weightily clasped over the exposed skin of my thigh.

“There’s a very easy way for you to make it up to me,” he whispered languidly, caressing over me with his sweet words, “this time when I buy you a drink, don’t run off, as easy as that.” I was so embarrassed by my previous actions I found it hard to actually answer, so I just cleared my throat and hummed low in my throat in agreement.

He seemed satisfied with that, hand moving from my leg to possessively squeeze at my waist as if he was insuring I really wouldn’t leave as soon as I got my drink, and I did have to laugh at that. His narrowed eyes hit me as soon as he heard my giggles, the teasing reprimand in them spoke volumes, but he stayed silent, hand waving for the barman while his eyes never left mine.

“What’s up,” came the low baritone of the guy as he came closer to us. I could clearly hear the amusement in his voice, but the informal address also didn’t escape me, and I started wondering who this guy actually was. This time I would at least leave the bar knowing his name, if nothing else.

Tuning out while he was ordering, I was just about to ask for his name, when the teasing voice of the younger guy registered back into my brain.

“And would that be on the bar, Yoongi-hyung?” it was some kind of a joke, judging by (apparently) Yoongi’s scoff even as he clearly wasn’t mad or annoyed, and he shot back with: “Stop asking stupid questions, Tae.” It was all jokes and games, the two men laughing and smiling at each other, when I froze in his hold.

Wait a minute. On the bar. Yoongi. Hyung. A memory rushed to the forefront of my mind – Hana excitedly rattling off about a club she wanted to go to, that she heard about because apparently the word on the streets was the owners were super hot. Saturday, two weeks ago, as she dragged us off into this club. A club owned by some guy called Min Yoongi and his friend Jung Hoseok.

The very same guy that was currently watching me go through this whole rollercoaster of realisations with an amused grin on his face, hand still securely curled around my waist and pushing me into the bar.

Jesus fucking christ.

I wasn’t actually sure whether I paled or blushed, but something crazy was happening with my face as I opened and closed my mouth like a beached fish fighting for its life, finger slowly lifting and wordlessly pointing towards the ginger man.

Yoongi finally couldn’t hold it back anymore and burst out laughing, the pure joy on his face making him look even more impossibly handsome with his cute smile and eyes closed in glee, but then he was suddenly fixing me with another one of his cocksure smirks and leaning closer.

“Oh kitten,” he purred, and his excitement was suddenly palpable between us, his whole body trying to curl around me eagerly, “don’t tell me you didn’t even know whose hands you wanted to choke you so bad?” My breath got stuck in my throat fighting to stutter out, and then I was just all pliable and melting right in his arms. That’s all it took, and it was absolutely pathetic on my part, but I couldn’t really bring myself to feel ashamed about it, especially not when Yoongi was pulling me closer, off the bar stool and nearly wedging me between himself and the wooden bar.

“Come on, princess, where’s my cocky little tease telling me the naughtiest things and then walking away with a huge fucking grin on her face?” the man teased me, so close that his hot breath was hitting the crook of my neck as I shivered and trembled under him, “You’re being such a good girl right now, I’m beginning to think this might be another one of your ploys.”

At his words, a surge of confidence hit me, reinforced by the clear lust that was dripping off of his voice, off of his aura. Suddenly I was back to the night two weeks ago, preening under his starving eyes, each moment between us packed with so much unreleased sexual tension it might have set the whole club on fire.

While Yoongi tentatively nosed under my ear, testing the waters afraid he’d push me away by being too much too fast, I sneaked my arm up his back aiming to give him exactly what he wanted.

Snaking my hand into his hair, I heard his little sigh, body pulling into me a little further as he took it as an encouragement to continue. Just as his lips lightly kissed at my neck, the slightest sweetest hint of tongue tasting the salty sweat, I grabbed a handful of the ginger locks and pulled, dragging his face away from me.

The moment our eyes met, it was like an electric current went off between us, his pupils dilated and darkened, consumed with desire, and mine couldn’t have looked much different. There was slight annoyance at my action written on his pretty face, but the grin was as amused as ever, pleased, even, that I dared to go against him.

My tongue slipped through my smirking lips very briefly, just teasing the man with little extra disobedience, and it worked to pull his attention, gaze trained on my blood red lips.

“There she is,” he whispered that almost reverently, the unfiltered joy running through him on a shiver, and I saw the exact moment he lost the battle to his instincts and surged to claim my mouth in a searing kiss.

Only… he never got there. Yoongi abruptly stopped midway, eyes jumping somewhere behind my shoulder, and I almost whined out loud, so desperate for his attention after I had it for a few brief moments.

But then his grin turned nasty, just downright filthy, and a shiver of arousal plundered through me. Before I knew what was happening, brain already muddled by this guy almost beyond recognition, he was spinning me in his hold. My back hit his chest, his hand splaying over my stomach in the process, and I was greeted with a delicious sight.

There was a man sitting in the chair that I was previously occupying before Yoongi pulled me off to himself, he was leaning his head on his hand that was propped up on the bar, watching us with an amused smirk and hungry eyes. I flushed under his gaze, and also from realising that he’d been watching us, but with the slightest curl of shame in my stomach I found that I really didn’t mind at all.

This guy was insanely attractive as well, he had dark hair slicked back and swept off of his forehead and an expanse of skin on show. He was also dressed in all black, but a very different vibe – dress pants that hugged his waist and hips nicely, accentuating his slim form, a silken blouse that was open all the way to his fucking belly button, but somehow it still looked extremely stylish and tasteful, covering just enough while giving you a taste of exquisite miles of honey-toned skin. He topped it off with a black suit jacket that fell past his hips and hung off of him nicely. For some reason he was also wearing his sunglasses, even here inside the club.

Looking at him made me feel like a horny nun in a sex shop. I swear to god I started sweating under his obviously interested eyes that peered over the rim of those black glasses and lingered on Yoongi’s possessive hold around my waist.

His hand swiftly tugged the sunglasses off and when he looked at my face again, there was a bright friendly smile on his, but something sharper and darker lurked beneath it, sending shivers down my spine in anticipation.

“Having a fun night, hyung?” he asked, voice happy and teasing, a laugh spilling out of him effortlessly like it was natural for him to do that with every word. Behind me there was a slight rumble as well, and I could only guess what kind of expression graced the ginger man’s face, but something hungry reflected in the newcomer at seeing it.

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi said in greeting and I jerked, recognising that name immediately. Amusement pulsed in the air, making me feel like I suddenly got caught between two starving wolves, while I just stood there wide-eyed and blushing. “You wouldn’t believe who returned to me tonight,” the older man continued, and I could hear the shit-eating grin in his intonation.

The hand that wasn’t currently lightly caressing the exposed sliver of skin between my crop and my skirt lifted from its place on the bar and laid gently on my neck, hold just strong enough to feel its weight there and fix me in place, but not to actually grasp. My heart stammered a few times in my chest, a needy noise getting stuck in my throat and tampering off into a little whiny exhale. My face was burning, but the interest of the two men seemed to skyrocket at the sound.

“Oh!” the exclamation out of Hoseok’s mouth was full of unbridled thrill and he leaned closer as well, recognising the gesture as something to do specifically with me in a way that sent shame and excitement through me, “Look who it is, our very own Cinderella!” Now when his gaze swept over me, there was a slight glaze over it, like he was putting the body to the tale he must have heard from Yoongi himself.

“So this is she,” the dark-haired man said finally when his eyes feasted enough, sparkles reflecting in them as he stared me down before he offered me his hand. Kind of dumbfounded I reached for it on instinct, making me even more aware of Yoongi’s hands coiled all around my body.

Hoseok quickly grabbed it as soon as it got within his reach, but instead of a handshake he pulled my hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the top, eyes sending me cheeky glances as I blushed under the ministration.

“Nice to meet you, Cinderella, my name is Hoseok,” he stated sensually, the fire that was steadily burning right under his surface momentarily showing, and then he pulled back all sunshiney and smiley again, like he wasn’t staring me down like a predator just a second ago.

“Oh, that’s right,” Yoongi suddenly mumbled, and I shamefully realised I was so pulled into Hoseok’s aura I forgot about the presence glued to my back, “What is your name, princess?” The dark-haired man in front of me suddenly gasped loudly, jokingly slapping his friend’s shoulder in reprimand.

“Hyung, you haven’t asked her till now?” he whined loudly, draping himself over the counter a little bit and making himself comfortable leaning his head on his hand again, “How incredibly rude of you. You were about to stick your tongue down her throat without even introducing yourself.” I flushed at the reminder of what got interrupted by Hoseok’s arrival, quickly averting my eyes and staring at the floor shyly.

There were few chuckles all around, and then the hands released me. I stumbled a little, not expecting to lose my tether and allowing my legs to grow weak knowing I was being held up, but thankfully Hoseok seemed to have quite quick reflexes, and his hand shot out to grab my hip, righting me on my feet. I mumbled my thanks and leaned on the bar casually like I was just waiting for my drink, trying to ignore the mounting sexual tension between the three of us.

Quickly clearing my throat, I hoped to dispel the slight awkwardness that suddenly overtook me, drumming my fingers on the bar. Suddenly realising that the drink Yoongi ordered for me stood completely forgotten and melting there, I reached for it and started downing it while I felt their amused but still ravenous eyes on my figure.

“I know, Hobi-ya, I’ve been such a bad host,” Yoongi purred out, fingers playing with the glass with what I assumed was whiskey. Since every time my gaze got stuck on his perfect hands his ego seemed to grow even more (which I thought to be impossible, but Yoongi proved to be an impossible man, so it checked out), I tried to avoid the sight, but my eyes still got dragged down every once in a while, lured in by the massive rings flashing under the lights and the pretty veins flexing with every movement.

There was some rapport between them, shooting one clever dirty remark after another, but I sort of tuned them out for a moment, getting lost in the world of possibilities that opened before me quite abruptly. I try to win a bet and end up getting chatted up by not one, but two owners of the very club. I almost wanted to run off just to whisper this to Yeri and giggle about it with Hana, some slight snickers escaping my mouth at the image of her wide-open mouth at finding out who these guys were.

“What are you laughing at, Cinderella?” a voice right next to my ear tears me out of my musings, and I immediately shuddered, feeling the hot puff of air of his breath hitting the tender skin of my neck. Hoseok was grinning at me wickedly when I turned to him, so close I could count all of his perfect pretty lashes.

Belatedly I realised I never actually introduced myself, the conversation getting derailed immediately and I got so flustered I forgot he even asked, so I cleared my throat and said: “My name’s Y/N.” It came out a little scratchy still, emphasizing how deliciously nervous they made me, which in turn served to excite them even more – I could see it in their dark expectant eyes.

Then I smirked, regaining a little bit of sense now that I wasn’t helplessly caught in Yoongi’s sweet net. “And that’s none of your business,” I added, barely supressing the desire to stick out my tongue at him. I’d keep that one in the arsenal, I was sure I’d get many a chance to be bratty at him until the morning.

Hoseok hummed, a spark running through him at the tiniest bit of attitude, but then he smirked back.

“I see what you mean, hyung, you do have to push her a little to get to that fire,” the dark-haired man said almost too conversationally, like they were discussing their favourite drinks. His head tilted as he regarded me and I felt almost undressed under the weight of that stare. Looking at him, he was clearly already thinking of how he’d like to push me to get the reactions he wanted, so I chose to ignore him even as heat threatened to overtake my face.

Instead I narrowed my eyes at Yoongi, who was trying to look as innocent as possible but he couldn’t hide the devilish spark about him, his smile a little too sharp to get away with anything.

“What exactly have you been telling him?” my voice tilted in faux anger, but there was a grin tugging at my lips even as I was attempting to fix him with my stare. Needless to say, he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

Leaning forward, until our noses were almost brushing and our breaths mingled, and I felt my knees getting a little weak again, he grinned. “Nothing but the truth.” We were locked in what I’d call an eye-fucking staring contest, but neither of us wanted to back down. As I started to feel a little more comfortable in their presence, I quickly found my spine again, and they clearly liked when I sassed them a little. So I let go and slipped into my usual stance.

“Well, I originally came here to talk shop, but this is much more interesting,” came Hoseok’s voice from our right, and we both looked over at the same time. He was watching us with an obvious smile, but not the ones like before, no. This one made me shiver (as if they haven’t been doing that for the entire night).

I quickly spun around, leaning on the bar with my back instead of my front, and looked seemingly carelessly into the crowd, partly trying to annoy them a little and partly actually searching for Yeri to make sure she knew I was okay.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s clearly nothing happening,” I sing-songed slyly, making sure I put a little distance between all of us. Yoongi, who was clearly the one more experienced with me bolting, was shifting around on his stool, and for the first time that evening I realised how much they both towered over me even with my heels, even when they both sat and I was standing. It was exhilarating, like getting slowly sweetly hunted.

I made eye contact with my best friend exactly the second two hands from two different directions wrapped around me and fixed me to place, Hoseok’s elegant hand squeezing at my waist while Yoongi’s bejewelled one made itself home in the crook of my neck, as close to grabbing me by the throat as he could get away with in the middle of a crowded club.

I stuttered out a gasp, my thoughts screeching to a halt and Yoongi took the chance to dip down to my ear and whisper: “You’re not running away from us that easily, pretty girl.” I couldn’t help the little smirk, thinking back to Yeri’s words promising me that if I went to speak to him, he wouldn’t let me go again. Oh how right she was, and she’d be super annoying about it later, but right now I was so glad she convinced me to go I’d accept all the teasing later.

Yeri was watching the interaction with sharp eyes, face a little worried at the sudden appearance of a second man. She raised her hand in the universal ‘ok’ gesture, a question written into her features. I quickly nodded, not wanting to leave her hanging, and then turned to Yoongi and staring right into his eyes.

“If I knew you were this desperate for me, I’d have given you a few more crumbs last time,” I teased him shamelessly, too satisfied with myself for Yoongi’s liking. He growled lightly, the rumble rising through his chest and throat and vibrating on my shoulder. The ginger ducked his head back into my neck and then there was a quick warning nip to the soft skin, which had me gasping breathlessly, thrumming in their arms.

Hoseok was quietly laughing to my right, free hand amusing itself by playing with my dark curled hair while he amusedly watched his hyung getting provoked like that.

With blown out pupils and wild heart jumping around in my chest I turned again to find Yeri’s eyes once more. She was glancing our way occasionally, and by now the other girls noticed as well, all hooting and hollering and gesturing at me happily. I grinned back, and then pulled out my phone from my little bag and tapped it so everyone saw. It was our gesture to have them check their messages.

With that I slowly pulled myself from their hands, and as possessively as they both clutched at me, once I actually showed the intent to leave, they both let go easily, leaning back in their chairs. I could see the moment of nervousness in Yoongi’s eyes, probably afraid he’d taken it too far with the bite, but I smirked at both of them, trying to ease them a little.

“Gentlemen, I need to use the restroom,” I announced heartily, thrusting my bag into Hoseok’s hands, “I trust this will be safe with you.” With a little wink, clutching my phone in hand, I turned on my heel and happily bounced through the throngs of people towards the quiet hallway.

Once there, I quickly pulled up the group chat, not being able to keep this all to myself anymore.

Petty bitch: you won’t fucking believe me what I found out

The slew of messages was immediate, some begging for the tea and some berating me for texting them when I had two very hot men to make out with.

Pink nightmare: istfg if you don’t tell me now

Petty bitch: calm down lol, i’m not gonna leave you hanging

Petty bitch: you know who these guys are?

Petty bitch: min yoongi and jung hoseok

Dressed to distress: ARE YOU FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW??????

Dressed to distress: Y/N YOU BETTER NOT BE PULLING YM BALLS RIHGT NOW

Dressed to distress: istfg you better go there and fuck them until they can’t walk or i’ll never speak to you again

Pink nightmare: i think Hana almost passed out when she read that

Dressed to distress: shut up it’s big news

Dressed to distress: it’s THE min yoongi and jung hoseok

Dressed to distress: FUCK THEM. N O W.

I was laughing at the endless barrage of messages, Hana and Yeri taking over the group chat with their combined freaking out and subtle threats to end our friendship if I leave again. The smile on my face was fixed permanent at that point, and the warmth spread through me quickly knowing I had such support out there, even though it was about getting fucked senseless.

Petty bitch: aye aye captain, will do sir

Dressed to distress: you better

Petty bitch: you were right tho yeri, about what you said before

Pink nightmare: i know ;)

With one last smile at the screen, I locked the device again and made my way back to the bar, where the two man conversed leisurely. A third chair was pulled between them, waiting and empty, and Hoseok was still securely clutching onto the little red handbag. I supposed that was the only reason they were being so chill, though I wouldn’t understand anyone that would be able to walk away from them for the second time.

Confidently walking over, I went straight for the empty stool and sat down without glancing at either of the men, instead gesturing at the smiley barman, Tae if I remembered correctly. He waved at me and without saying anything he started preparing my drink.

Well, there was a certain advantage to being the girl that his bosses were about to fuck.

Said men didn’t waste a second and immediately engulfed me in their warmth, flanking both my sides, hands wandering around the small of my back or the exposed skin of my thighs (that one was definitely Yoongi, judging by the cooling feeling of heavy jewellery dragging across the heated skin that made me shiver more than I was prepared to admit).

A small talk started up between us, talking about mostly nothing or inconsequential things, about what we did that day or whether I also got mad at the latest change in bus schedule (Hoseok got weirdly passionate about that, considering he most definitely either drove a high-end car or even had a chauffeur).

But it was increasingly more difficult to pay attention to a single thing that was said when their hands slowly but surely strayed more and got bolder and bolder, with Hoseok’s sliding up, up, under my little top, until his thumb was sliding across the line of my bra, while Yoongi had managed to slowly inch his way almost all the way under my skirt. He was so close to accidentally brushing against the edge of my panties, and it was driving me insane.

I was endlessly squirming in my seat, legs constantly fighting to either fall further open or squeeze under the rush of sensations, either giving the smug man more opportunities to caress my inner thigh or just trapping his hand there.

And as if sensing what Yoongi was doing, and how he kept me on edge, Hoseok begun inching his head closer, leaning in until I felt every word he said on the skin of my naked shoulder, until his soft lips were brushing against me with every laugh and murmur, sometimes even giving up the pretence of polite conversation and just openly kissing his way around my crop when he wasn’t talking.

It took me entirely too long to realise they were just winding me up on purpose, finding new stupid stuff to bring up just to prolong the sweet torture.

I snapped sometimes in the middle of a heated debate over soap dispensers in public bathrooms, just as Yoongi was detailing his thought process over choosing the ones they had in their restrooms.

“Are you planning to finger me right here on the bar?” I jumped into his spiel, the frustration bleeding into my voice, “Or are we going to talk about soap until morning?” Yoongi immediately shut up, amused grin playing on his lips and his hand flexing on my thigh at the mention of fingering. Hoseok also froze where he was in the middle of gently mouthing at the back of my neck, and I felt his lips pull into a smirk.

Tae that was just passing by looked horrified though and started protesting basically as soon as I was done with my little outburst.

Before I knew what was happening, both men were on their feet and pulling me along, each one hand in their grasp. There was a quick understanding between them, and they both started off in the same direction.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hoseok purred, overcome by the excitement, “No matter how hot fingering you at the bar would be, let’s reserve that for when the club’s closed.” The promise of future endeavours worked like a charm on me, and I quickly melted into their embrace, speeding up to keep up with their rushed steps.

Turns out, they were going towards a dark door, coloured just well enough to blend into the walls. Yoongi impatiently started unlocking it, almost barging into it once the key finally turned. It opened to a narrow little barren hallway that ended in stairs going up.

The three of us couldn’t fit there side by side, so I ended up with Hoseok’s arm around my shoulders with Yoongi going ahead, taking the stairs by two. Up there was a little space and a singular door, which finally led into what must have been their office space.

It was a nice room, a little dark, there was only a single small window and it was currently night outside, but it was decorated nicely, giving it a modern yet cozy feel. There was a dark wood desk in one corner, with a massive chair behind it, and a nice little conference table with a comfortable sofa in the other.

Hoseok led us straight towards there, but just as I wanted to move to sit on the nice dark blue furnishing, I was pulled down by the man and we both tumbled onto the soft carpet instead. He cleverly manoeuvred me so that once down, I ended up almost in his lap, and his arm coiled around my waist quickly to keep me pressed up against him.

I’d have laughed at his cheekiness, I would have, but then his face was buried in my neck and finally kissing in earnest, and all that came out of me was a pleased sigh. There was clinking coming from somewhere behind us, but I ignored it in favour of running my hand up Hoseok’s back until it was tangled into his styled hair. He released a few pleasured chuffs and then he was pulling back.

I whined, I couldn’t help myself, and I wasn’t even particularly ashamed of it once I saw his teasing smile. The dark-haired man amused himself by pressing in closer, our lips only a breath away, and then jerking from me when I tried to close the distance, laughing in earnest at my frustration.

His hands kneaded my hips, similarly pulling me close enough but then keeping me in place when I tried to shuffle closer, until I had enough. I was so turned on, not only from the teasing from before, worked up from their gentle touches on the bar, but also from being so close to finally having what I wanted only to be entertainment for him. So fine, if he wanted to play, let’s play.

Using the hand in his hair, I tugged at it a little harsher than before, enough to jerk Hoseok’s head back as he wasn’t expecting it. A little hiss of pain escaped his lips, but even as I quickly descended on him I saw the swirl of arousal in his eyes. Using the moment of surprise, I finally crashed our lips together and barrelled into him, not giving him a chance to stop me when I finally climbed atop his lap properly and made myself home there.

He took it all in stride, giving me what I wanted, happily so if his overjoyed little noises were anything to go by. I didn’t give him a chance to tease more by controlling the pace of the kiss, instead I kissed him filthily from the beginning, going in hard.

Hoseok matched my pace easily, accepting all of my desire and doubling it with his own, wasting no time in licking into my mouth, pushing his tongue in and claiming me thoroughly. We battled for dominance briefly, our tongues messily pushing against each other, the kiss descending into heated wet chaos, but it was mind-meltingly good and I couldn’t stop the outpouring of moans that the man eagerly swallowed and answered with his own.

When we finally separated for air, I suddenly became aware of the fact that I’ve been rocking against him as his hands firmly gripped at my waist, supporting the flow of my movements.

We breathed heavily into each other, my brain already muddled and its only goal turning to getting railed into oblivion. Hoseok’s gaze was trained somewhere off to my left and I turned, being greeted by the sight of Yoongi leisurely sprawled over the sofa, whiskey glass hanging from his hand.

His eyes were beyond starving, fixed on us in a manner that excited me as much as it unnerved me, but then Hoseok was chuckling into my ear and whispering “hyung must like the show” and my head was spinning with the force of lust that surged through me.

This time when I lunged for another kiss, the man was already expecting me, accepting me. Hoseok was full of eager noises, sighs and moans and groans, all escaping into my hungry mouth and sounding through the room alongside the wet smacking of our lips. And I wasn’t far behind, the quiet moans spilling out freely as my hips jerked over the man, this time very much with purpose.

There was a bulge increasingly hardening right beneath my soaked centre, and every time I rubbed against it there was a hitch in both of our staggered breathing. My skirt has long since ridden all the way up, pretty much exposing my panties to Yoongi’s eager eyes as he watched me hump his friend.

Our mouths fell apart for breath, but Hoseok immediately trailed wet scorching kisses down my jaw and neck, licking into the skin there. At first I didn’t even realise when the scales of power started tipping the other way, not until I was suddenly pulled up and slammed down on the little table, splayed on my back and with a very horny man attached to me and pushing me into the sturdy wood.

My head was spinning and I could barely see through the haze, the fog filling my mind with every swipe of Hoseok’s talented tongue, and when I bumped into something I didn’t even care that much. Not until the dark-haired man bit down hard at the junction of my neck and I threw my head back with a debauched scream, body seizing and arms flying back in an attempt to grasp onto something.

Soft jean material was suddenly between my fingers, and I started slowly noting that there was a bony leg underneath it.

Hoseok’s hips relentlessly pushed into mine, jerking into me and letting me feel every inch of his now erect cock, still confined to his silken pants.

“Going to ruin your expensive slacks, pretty boy,” I gasped out with a laugh and the man scoffed into the skin in the crook of my neck. His hips slowed down to a drawled-out grind, torturing me with delicious drag of the prominent bulge through the thin material of my panties.

I felt his big strong hand splayed out on the meat of my thigh, holding my leg curled around his hips and pinning me into place.

“I’m not a teenager anymore, angel, I can hold my own,” he purred between licks and kisses, enjoying the slowed down pleasure as it made me squirm in impatience, since the turn in pace was quite sudden.

“Oh yeah? You’re already a big boy?” I teased right back, little gasps and moans escaping me with every sharp nip to my neck. I was already breathless, writhing around on the table under a man who seemed to be gradually more and more cocksure as the seconds ticked by.

Hearing my words, he ground his hips into me with surprising force, shocking a moan out of me. “Can’t you feel for yourself?” he giggled into my ear, upping the tempo and force behind his thrusts until I was thrown around and had no idea where was up and down.

Brain overrun with pleasure, any kind of smart retort died in my throat under the sudden onslaught of pleasure coursing through me, only desperately holding onto Hoseok’s shoulders while he ravaged me. The little table pitifully squeaked under us, but it seemed it would hold even with how wild he was getting.

“Oh? No more witty remarks?” he now fully teased, enjoying this little game we had going, “Do you only behave when you’re fucked into oblivion?”

Before I could respond, Hoseok straightened out, hands migrating to hold down my hips as he jerked into me and laughed down at me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what sight I made – flushed, with messy hair and red lipstick smeared around my lips. His eyes drank me up hungrily, mouth open and tongue licking his lips like I was the most delicious dessert. There was a tinge of red on them from mine too, and with his blown out eyes it painted such an erotic picture I felt myself clench around nothing.

A deep dark chuckle from behind me made me remember the fact that there actually was another person here with us, but I didn’t turn to look at him. Instead I channelled all my energy into smirking towards Hoseok.

He himself was far from collected, a tiny line of sweat breaking out at his hairline and his cheeks were a healthy red colour, eyes hazy and dark. Sensing my rebellion, he smiled sweetly and waited for what I’d grace them with.

“And you think you have it in you to do that?” I gasped out cheekily, almost even winking at him, but instead I settled for letting my tongue peek out slightly and poking my upper lip with it, “A healthy confidence is sexy, but don’t oversell yourself, pretty boy.”

The moment Hoseok’s eyes darkened with slight aroused irritation, face pulling into a hard dominant mask, I knew I’d succeeded in pushing his buttons just right. I felt the hands holding me tighten, but his hips abruptly stilled.

A disbelieving chuckle came from Yoongi, who must have been comfortably sitting on the sofa behind us watching everything unfold. “Now you’ve done it, princess,” his deep raspy voice rumbled amusedly.

Anticipation set heavy into my bones, my whole body thrumming in excitement while I watched the tick in Hoseok’s jaw. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head, no doubt coming up with some way to punish me.

“Well, I think we have to teach our little guest some manners, don’t you hyung?” it was like a switch turned in him and there was no trace of the happy smiley man he was mere minutes ago, now only intense determination shined through his face as he began pulling away from me.

Yoongi hummed, then there was a sound of shifting and suddenly the man’s breaths were hitting my ear, the goosebumped skin of my neck shivering at his abrupt proximity. “I couldn’t agree more, Hob-ah,” the ginger whispered, but in the quiet office it was still perfectly audible.

The smirk that split Hoseok’s face was completely different from the one before and it frankly sent shivers down my spine in a somewhat jittery excitement.

Both men then stood up, leaving me alone on the table. Before I knew it, I was whining like a little abandoned pup, scrambling to get up as well, but a firm gesture to stay from Hoseok had me freezing in my spot, only a whimper escaping my mouth where I laid.

I watched them as they rummaged through a small closet, each pulling out something else. When they turned back to me, Yoongi was hiding something behind his back while Hoseok’s hand was wrapped around with some colourful piece of cloth. They made no move closer to me though, just stood there and watched me sprawled out on the little table.

I was squirming under their heated gazes, a little unsure and a lot desperate. I just wanted their hands on my body, their cocks stuffed in whatever hole they pleased, but I was so awfully alone there on that little table – that must have been illegal. Fighting the whimpers from trickling out of my mouth, I seeped in my embarrassment and lust, eyes begging them for anything.

“Look at her hyung,” Hoseok started, ever the more talkative one of the duo, “look how obedient and desperate she gets when we take the pleasure away from her.” The older man’s eyes glided over me for the thousandth time, hungry and burning, and I almost cowered from them on instinct.

“Not so mouthy now, are we princess?” he teased as well, in that voice of his that made me embarrassingly aroused.

Within moments Hoseok was back onto me, but now he just grabbed my waist and pressed me into the wood, arms and hips holding me from squirming but not touching me in any relief-inducing way.

I almost whined again when suddenly Yoongi’s hands entered my periphery from above, where he was situated back on the sofa behind me. While Hoseok held me still, the man grabbed both of my hands and started gently fastening a tie around the wrists, slowly enough to let me see what he was doing and loosely enough for me to protest anytime.

But the second I saw that happening, my breath hitch in excitement and I arched into Hoseok’s hands, the man quietly snickering to himself.

“This okay?” Yoongi’s voice was completely serious, devoid of any teasing from before. I nodded, but quickly remembered myself and before he could ask I rasped out a “yes!”. The answering smile washed over me along with a little murmur of “good girl” and I positively melted under them, hips desperately pushing down to find Hoseok’s.

“Are you familiar with the colour system?” the dark-haired man asked this time, eyes trained on his hyung carefully twisting and turning the tie to properly fasten a comfortable safe knot on it. I caught myself as I started nodding again, and instead croaked out another affirmative, pulling satisfied smiles out of them just as Yoongi lightly yanked on the binding and the knot shrank and tightened until it was snugly sitting on the skin of my wrists.

“Anything, and I mean anything, feels weird – don’t hesitate to let us know,” with last comforting murmur Yoongi moved back to sit onto the sofa – my nod must have been enough for him – and as he went my arms stretched backwards over my head. The ginger leisurely held onto the fabric like it was a leash, giving me slight room to move, but keeping his presence known.

Hoseok’s reassuring smile melted into a smug smirk and I held my breath in anticipation, ready to accept anything the man had in store for me. But instead of returning to me, he pulled back once more, the hands on my hips now almost bruising.

In a split of a second I found myself flipped over. My front hit the table with a big clank, almost sending the poor piece of furniture to the ground and knocking the wind out of me. Hoseok released a big breath, one hand pushing at the small of my back and keeping me pinned down, while the other started a slow journey up the outside of my thigh.

His teasing fingers at first only lightly grazed underneath the skirt, caressing the sensitive yearning skin before finally pushing the clothing out of the way, completely exposing my panties clad ass to the room. I shivered slightly, but the temperature was comfortable and I was only filled with overwhelming waves of lust and eagerness.

Hoseok’s hand gently caressed the skin for a moment, sometimes kneading and grabbing at the meat of my ass and lulling me into a false sense of security, before abruptly pulling back and landing a harsh slap on the right cheek. I gasped out a choked moan, whole body jerking forward with the force until my hips barrelled straight into the table. A loud bang of the table taking the hit combined with my noise of pleasure sounded through the room in a strange yet satisfying cacophony.

In this position I could clearly see Yoongi lounging back on the sofa watching us with dark eyes, hands flexing on the tie holding my bound wrists. His eyes jumped to mine the second his friend started administering the chosen punishment, something predatory swimming in them at my reaction. In that moment he felt more like a beast than a man, and one that wanted to eat me whole. The thought made me shudder, but in the best way possible.

I was quite sure that my own eyes must have been dazed and hazy with lust, as I could barely see through the film of pleasure blinding me, and Yoongi seemed to love that more than anything.

“Give her another, Hobi,” he encouraged the dark-haired man, and I realised he was probably monitoring whether I was okay as much as enjoying the view.

But all thoughts of anything flew right out of my mind the moment Hoseok’s hand descended onto me again, this time to the left side. The shock of pain ran through me like a zap of electricity, melting into pleasure as soon as it hit my bloodstream. The vision of Yoongi in front of me blurred as my eyes rolled back, a strangled moan releasing into the tensed air between us.

The next four spanks came quickly one right after the other, alternating between the cheeks and leaving behind stinging buzzing skin, more sensitive with every touch. I felt the burn there, and the ache of my hips continuously ramming into the wooden table also kept reminding me my position. But I didn’t care, too busy trying to dampen down my increasingly more high-pitch desperate groans and moans, before I embarrassed myself too much.

The wetness building up between my thighs was almost embarrassing, and I started to worry any moment I would start dripping down my legs just over a few spanks, and then Hoseok would never let me live it down.

Speaking of the devil, the man switched again to gently caressing the reddened tender area, humming lowly in his throat. I slumped onto the table, whining and whimpering at every soft swipe of his hand, every delicate pinch and handful he grabbed. Yoongi was smirking at me, but stayed silent, giving his friend all the space to do whatever he wanted.

“Look at you, being such a good girl now,” he purred slowly behind me, pushing his erection into my clothed core once more and teasing me with the hardened bump griding into me. The sudden realisation that I was wet enough for squelches to be heard with his tight thrusts hit me square in the chest and pushed another pathetic moan out of my throat. His hands once again pinned me down by my hips, making sure I wasn’t squirming underneath him and wouldn’t try to grind back at him, but I heard him groaning under his breath when he realised the same thing as well.

“All I had to do was spank you a little and put you in your place, and suddenly you’re all out of smart remarks,” Hoseok continued smugly (if a little breathlessly), hips smoothly riding me. I could hear his little sighs and half-moans with every thrust, obviously more desperate for relief than he was trying to let on.

I wanted to speak back to him, but my mind was blank, filled only with thoughts of his cock and his hands on me. Opening my mouth, only thing that was able to come out were strangled groans, and I worried I might start drooling soon too. And even if I did manage to speak, no doubt the only thing I’d be able to formulate would be pleas for Hoseok to stuff me full of his cock and fuck me dumb.

Yoongi was watching me with amusement, like I was pathetic, and the humiliation was burning through me and heightening everything I was already feeling.

“Aw, look at her hyung,” Hoseok continued, “can’t even speak now.” The older man hummed in satisfaction, tugging lightly on the tie and jostling me into paying more attention to the interaction. I put the last strains of brain power into talking back, the final try before I would be too lost and cock drunk.

“So pleased with yourselves, aren’t you boys,” the words came out of my mouth slightly slurred, but the cheeky lilt was still clearly detectable, and I chuckled tiredly, shimmying under Hoseok’s firm hands to try and get his cock closer to me.

To which the man swiftly reacted by pulling his hips away and instead bending over me. I felt the feather-light brushes of his shirt over the exposed parts of my back, but Hoseok never came any closer – not enough to feel his skin, only to have the feverish warmth of his body seep slowly into me from above.

“Be careful what you say, pretty,” his low voice warned me, the words delivered a touch too sensually to fully register in my mind, “that is, if you wanna get fucked tonight.”

“How many spanks did you get, princess?” Yoongi’s question came before my hazy brain could even fully process Hoseok’s warning, but I managed to choke out the answer, muddled mind going through the sharp delicious impacts to my skin.

Both men hummed, pleased that I kept track even without being told to. Hoseok finally lowered himself onto me, chest plastered to my back, skin pasted to skin by a thin sheen of sweat.

“Now, I was considering letting you off with six,” he murmured straight into my ear, “but it seems you do need the whole ten.” Then he was gone, only reminder of his presence was the sudden cold spot over me and the tingles running through my skin where we touched, and I shivered. My hips still pushed back needily, and he let me for a few moments, before his hand was back to caressing the throbbing red skin of my bottom.

The first spank was a fast one, delivering a more intense sting than the ones before. I gasped and braced myself, eagerly pushing my ass out and arching my back. Someone chuckled, and I had a hard time deciphering who, all my attention channelled into the two hands fondling the meat of my ass leisurely.

The press of his fingers into the burning flesh was something I swore I’d be able to remember 20 years from now, the sensation almost classifying as a life-changing event for my pathetic little brain as the anticipation of the next three spanks drove me crazy with need.

“She’s presenting nicely like a bitch in heat,” a deep voice whispered breathlessly, mockery and arousal mixing into his tone, “are we sure this is even a punishment for her?” In lieu of answer only a whiney moan left my mouth, hips shaking desperately and attempting to push back just as Hoseok delivered another sharp blow.

The last two were a little hazy for me – they came in a fast succession and immediately after the calming cooling caress of Hoseok’s hand returned, his voice soothing me with reassuring coos and purrs.

“What a good girl,” Yoongi whispered, tugging at the tie again to check on me. The praise poured over me, replenishing me body and soul like I was a thirsty traveller stumbling upon an oasis, and I slowly raised my head from the wood to blearily blink at the man. I was pretty sure there was a line of drool connecting me to the table, but I was too fried to care.

The ginger smiled at me, looking pleased more than anything, but still giving his younger friend free reign. Said man gave my bum a few more gentle pats before he helped me turn around on my back again, hooking my legs over his elbows to make it a little easier for me.

His face was flushed, a predatory grin spread over his face. I watched a drop of sweat slide down his neck and plunge down the perfect almost exposed chest, and while the man’s hair was all messy from our previous kissing, lips red from the lipstick I wore, his clothes were still firmly in place.

He was watching me with such overwhelming desire I almost melted right on the spot, the full force of my arousal making itself known in a single burst of fire. Suddenly the wetness in my panties became nigh unbearable, and my pussy fruitlessly clenched and oozed more juice in hopes of getting stuffed soon. And with Hoseok’s cock so close to my centre I was going even more mad with it.

“What do we think, baby? Have we learnt our lesson?” he asked me in a cheery voice, the taunting lilt provoking me and pushing my heated brain into overdrive to come up with a swift comeback. In the end I let the lust override the reason and blurted out what I really wanted.

“We think,” I started, my voice all breathless with a little rasp, “that maybe you should bury your pretty face in my cunt.” Immediately after those words tumbled out of me, a blush overtook my face in unexpected shyness. Even now I was still getting embarrassed – I’ve never bratted this much to anyone and I’ve certainly never said those exact words before – it was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Hoseok tsked at me and then looked to the older man while lightly shaking his head in faux disappointment.

“Oh dear, I think it’s only making her mouthier,” some darker breathier excitement crept into his voice, and it had me alerted in an instant, “what do we do, hyung?” The beastly smirk Yoongi gave in response felt like a bucket of ice water hitting me straight into my face, and I realised that they were planning something more from the beginning and I just played straight into their hands.

“I know these types, Hoseok-ah,” the ginger played along, but he was too excited to sell it properly, “and only one thing ever seems to work on them.” With that his hand reached somewhere down the sofa and grabbed a thin black flexible stick.

A whip. He had a whip.

My mind got transported back to before they spanked me, how Yoongi seemed to hide something behind his back. I got distracted real fast after that, but this must have been it.

I’d never used it before with anyone and as much as slight nervousness set into me, it was heavily overshadowed by the rush of exhilaration. With a single look at it I felt my body jerk in response, pussy clenching and singing in praise.

“Let’s see how bratty you are when you’re too busy crying from overstimulation, princess,” debauchery dripping off of him like pouring rain, pelting me right in my weakest points and leaving me gasping and breathless. I very much did want to see that.

A loud snapping of fingers had me whirling my head back to Hoseok who wore a serious expression, only getting emphasised by the obvious lust swirling in his blackened orbs.

“Colour, baby?” he rasped out, hands kneading the meat of my thighs slowly, in a hypnotising loop of thrills. I swallowed with some difficulty, getting steadily pulled into his intense gaze.

“G-green,” I stuttered out, buckling under the sudden aura these two were exuding, like I only now realised that I was in the presence of two domineering men. The slight hesitation before my answer was noticed as well, and while I was merely taking my time to know surely this is something I wanted, the men seemed to be worried by it.

“You sure?” Hoseok enquired again, mellowing out the rough touch into a gentle caress to make me more comfortable. I nodded, hurriedly and a tad too excitedly, drawing a chuckle from Yoongi still sitting behind me.

“Yes. Green,” I repeated, this time firmer and surer to chase away any doubts they could have. Yoongi’s hand started a slow path along the sensitive inside of my arm, his energy shifting into something more predatory and tangible, making sure I was aware of him.

“Have you ever played with a whip before, princess?” the ginger drawled out sensuously, amusement evident in his tone. I wanted to turn my head to look at him, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the way Hoseok’s face crumbled back into lust.

“No…” the word slipped out of my mouth in a whisper. It almost felt like both of them were holding their breath for something, something that was escaping me in my scrambled state.

“Are you excited to try?” came the next question, now feeling Yoongi lightly nose at my wrists, just shy of kissing there, making me shudder under the sensation. I just breathlessly nodded, not having the strength to actually find my voice. The ginger snickered and smacked a loud kiss to one of my wrists.

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll go easy on you,” he whispered the promise and then pulled away again, gesturing at Hoseok to do what he wanted. The dark-haired man happily giggled and immediately grabbed my thighs, spreading them without much preamble.

I squeaked in surprise, hands jerking to go cover myself, but they got tugged back into Yoongi’s lap. Hoseok paid me no mind though, and didn’t waste time in putting his lips to the smooth skin near my ankle, showing off with loud wet kisses trailing quickly down.

As he was descending down my legs, his quick skilful hands found their way beneath my skirt (that was barely covering anything anyway) and started tugging at my panties, dragging them up my thighs to take them off. The wet spot spanned almost the entire seat of the panties and the size of it would be more embarrassing if I didn’t see the way Hoseok’s eyes rolled back at the sight, the excitement rushing through his body on a shudder. At the same time a veiny knuckley hand descended onto me from behind and tugged my crop up to release my tits from my bra.

Before I knew it Hoseok was bending over and had his face buried in my cunt while the handy little whip was teasingly circling one of my nipples. I barely managed to gasp out, drowning under sudden barrage of sensations and body growing confused under the different stimulations.

The dark-haired man started enthusiastically licking around my drenched folds, swiftly attaching himself to my clit and sucking with loud slurps, hands tightening on my thighs and keeping them thrown over his shoulders. The zap of pleasure hit me like a tank and I arched, mouth opening on a silent moan – and Yoongi, the bastard that he was, chose that exact moment to raise the whip and slap one of my nipples enough that it stung a little.

The desperate cry that left my mouth was almost unrecognisable from my voice, but it wasn’t a negative noise – quite the opposite, if the rush of slick that hit Hoseok’s hungry mouth still latched onto my pussy was anything to go by. The man groaned, debauched and dark eyes rolling back into his skull, before redoubling his efforts and wildly licking and sucking at the swollen lips and clit, slowly working his tongue around my hole and pushing in.

While my body tried to cope with the flood of liquid fire from Hoseok’s eager ministrations, my brain was continuously stuttering under the stinging sensation of Yoongi’s whip slapping my nipples in a seemingly whimsical manner. The man of course, once he caught wind of my obvious interest, didn’t hold back and used the little tool to alternatingly caress and lightly smack both of my breasts.

The dual stimulation made my brain melt quick, and soon I found myself to be a drooling moaning mess under the ministrations of two eager demons. I was teetering on the edge of cumming, the heat and pleasure accumulating in my lower belly until it was dangerously close to consuming me whole; and with every little suck on my clit and another hit from the whip I jerked a little closer to it snapping.

But it wouldn’t be them if they didn’t play with me a little, and every time Hoseok felt me nearing the edge he pulled off, roughly biting into the meat of my thighs to distract me with more delicious pain while watching his hyung distribute his own discipline on me.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he moaned helplessly into my skin finally, hand migrating to grab and fondle the bursting tent in his black slacks, groaning in relief immediately.

“Go ahead Hob-ah, have your fun,” Yoongi purred from the couch, the warmed leather of the whip now trying to soothe the sting with gentle caresses. The man didn’t even answer verbally, only let himself slump into me with a loud moan.

Once again he wasted no time, hands scurrying to undo his pants. He quickly shucked of his blouse, revealing the beautiful smooth muscled torso he hid beneath. I only had a moment to fully sink in the beauty of his arms stretching as he pulled his top off before his trousers were pushed down his hips. Sinking all the way to his knees, Hoseok paid them no more attention as he started hurriedly fisting his flushed red cock just begging for release.

Reminiscent of my reaction to getting spanked, I was unwittingly spreading my legs and arching off the table to offer up my pussy to him on a silver platter. The sinful smirk he gave in response made me even wetter (if that was possible), and I released a series of high needy moans.

“Look at our baby, all mute and docile now,” Hoseok teased, smirking up a smug storm, somehow regaining some semblance of a composure. I couldn’t find it in myself to reply, brain mush and hole wet and needy, so I just moaned again. It was so much easier to let myself ride the wave, to let all thoughts slip away and give myself over into their skilful hands – I felt no more need to sass back, I just wanted to cum. The two men giggled, and I heard a tearing of a foil packet, redirecting my dazed eyes towards Hoseok just to see him putting on a condom.

Anticipation ran through me, my horny mind recognising that I would be getting cock inside of me soon, needy cunt clenching and gushing desperately. Hoseok started pushing in practically immediately, impatient and wanting, and I was so wet and ready for him that he sunk in without a problem on the first stroke, pushing a helpless groan out of the man immediately.

I hadn’t even stopped moaning yet when Hoseok pulled back and thrust back in, overriding my senses with burning pleasure – it felt like my brain was buffering and short-circuiting under the never-ending overwhelming sensations. I finally felt so deliciously full, and it scratched something deep inside me, body catching up quickly and erupting into mindless ecstasy. After a few experimental strokes he set a speedy pace, desperately pumping his hips into me, jostling me on the table. If he wasn’t gripping onto my thighs so tightly, I’d probably find myself sliding up with the force of his lust, while the dark-haired man lost himself to my wet heat.

The moans spilled out of him freely, bronze sweaty body rippling with the movements and teasing some abs. When I managed to take control of myself and perceive anything through my own desperate staccato moans and gasps, I saw the man’s hazy gaze, unfocused eyes glazed over with ecstasy. It made my own lust mount immeasurably, building on my previous almost-there orgasm and throwing me headfirst into heady bliss. The scorching heat gathering deep in my core spilled over shocks of fire through my bloodstream, getting more intense with every stroke, with every time his tip bumped into the magic spot inside of me and made me shudder, so close to release I could almost taste it on my fucking tongue.

Tugging on my hands alerted me to Yoongi’s presence, the stagnant whip now moving again, teasingly making its way across my chest and tummy, here or there thumping down lightly to keep me on my toes. I heard his purred-out hums and rumbles at my eager reactions even through Hoseok’s groans and gasps, even through the wet slapping of skin on skin as he pumped into me wildly.

Just when I got used to the feeling of the leather travelling across my skin, Yoongi distributed four quick slaps, alternating between my nipples. The impact made me jerk in surprise before the delectable mix of pleasure and pain caught up to me and poured through my veins and nerves and I cried out on a moan. I felt my body spasm, cunt clenching and trapping Hoseok’s cock into the warm pulsating walls. A loud desperate moan cut through the room, the dark-haired man’s hips stuttered into me, and I felt his cock throb and twitch inside of me – and it drove me fucking insane with need, my hungry wet cunt attempting to suck him deeper and deeper in mindless lust that overrode all rhyme and reason.

His face spoke of inconceivable bliss, screwed into a grimace of a man on the brink of glory, red and sweaty with mouth hanging open, and breathing hard. He stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath, his cock lodged inside of me begging for release. For few long seconds we exchanged exhausted but content smiles before Yoongi became tired of being ignored.

His whip suddenly smacked my tummy, making me clench again and in succession torturing Hoseok further as he tried to stave off his oncoming orgasm. Our breaths hitched at the same time, our gazes trained to the little black tool slowly sliding down to my cunt. It seemed that both of us had an inkling as to what Yoongi was planning – considering Hoseok’s wink and winning smirk towards his older friend while I was filled with dark anticipation, gaze glued to the sight of it rising right above my mound and coming down almost in slow-motion.

The first smack to my clit almost made me cum on the spot, all the accumulated pleasure bursting in a blinding jolt making my body contort. Hoseok’s hips jumped forward, answering the endless squeezing of my cunt with breathless moans. I thought I heard Yoongi chuckle, but I wasn’t sure through the ringing in my ears.

And then everything disappeared, melted out of my head in a barrage of moans full of honeyed lust as he started slapping my clit, swiftly, in a way that made it sting but the outpouring of achey pleasure that made everything staticky and muffled was worth it thousand times. The continuous feeling of a nearing climax mounting in me was overwhelming me, sending my thighs into fits of tremors.

Hoseok started up his pace again – unable to deny himself any longer and fucking into me hard and quick, obviously chasing his high and helplessly losing to the tidal wave about to swallow him whole. As the stimulation of his cock drilling into me and barrelling into my g-spot returned, even through the fog in my mind I knew I was a goner. The wet squelch of my pussy seemed to intensify, signalling the oncoming beast of a climax too.

Yoongi also kept up his antics, periodically bringing the whip down straight onto my clit and making me jerk and cry pathetically under them (though Hoseok seemed pretty lost too). My hands were pulled over to his lap and in my plight I grabbed onto his thigh to gain at least some stable point. I felt his hand briefly squeeze mine in support, the tender touch calming my beating heart a bit. I screwed my eyes shut, head thrown back and body thrumming, just waiting for the final push.

But then Yoongi was back to his agenda, delivering few hard quick hits down onto my clit. My body tensed up, shaking and right on the brink of a powerful orgasm and head full of cotton and buzzing. Hoseok was also losing his mind, hips accelerating and balls drawing in tight, and I knew he was about to cum as well.

All it took was the sensation of Hoseok thrusting in hard a few more times before he burst, cock throbbing uncontrollably as he came with a piercing cacophony of high-pitched moans, and Yoongi smacking down one last time before my whole body locked, then everything exploded in me and I was suddenly cumming so hard I was surprised I didn’t simply burst into pieces. Distantly I was aware that I was screaming out, but everything was muted through the humming and ringing in my ears, eyes rolled back into my skull rendering me blind. I jerked with the waves of pleasure, warmth pumping into me from all directions and pushing me deeper into a dark fog, pulling me under the endless billows of scorching honeyed nectar spreading through me.

It rocked me whole, thighs and hips shaking while Hoseok desperately grasped at me going through the shockwaves as well, still unwittingly pumping into me to ride out the wave. The added sting of overstimulation prolonged everything and made it sharper, making my toes curl with the mind-numbing pleasure.

When the high started ebbing away, I felt drugged, or on the verge of blackout drunk – eyes barely able to keep open, unseeing through the film over them, face wet with drool and tears. I didn’t feel fully in my body, like I was floating above the table and saw the whole world through cotton candy.

Hoseok was saying something, but his words were slurred as well and I could barely hear anyway. He slumped over me, hips finally calm, and by the bonelessness of his form it could be judged that he went through similarly intense experience. I was suddenly hyper-aware of the amount of sweat that was pouring off of us, of our chests rising in tandem trying to catch our breaths and failing at it desperately.

There was some shuffling and then my arms were released, the tie binding them together gone – but they still immediately flopped down, no strength in them left. Someone pressed their face close to mine, ginger locks coming into my view but not fully connecting as I was still out of it, fighting off sleep.

But then Hoseok started moving, pulling away from me and out of my pussy, and I was jostled from the floaty space somewhere in between, slowly settling back into my bones and feeling the content ache still overriding all of my nerves.

The sound slowly came in and I realised that Yoongi was actually gently whispering praises into me, kissing softly along my neck and jawline while “such a good girl” and “took it so well” slipped out of his mouth on a murmur.

I moved my head just enough to see the dark-haired man collapse onto the carpet, half slumped into the leg of the sofa, grinning at me all doped out and still half naked with his pants undone. Yoongi quietly prowled over to the other side of the table, for the first time since we came here putting himself into my direct line of sight. And while his touch stayed respectful and soothing, his starving eyes ate up my messy wet swollen pussy like it was his last meal.

But then instead of touching me more he leaned over for some discarded clothing item, lightly dragging it down my thighs to clean up the juices that got all over me while Hoseok was fucking me. My eyes naturally slipped to the unmissable bulge tenting his black jeans (he must have taken off his hoodie somewhere during the session) and I couldn’t hold back the whine, brain still not quite capable of putting my thoughts together in a civilised manner.

In that moment it was simply unconceivable to me that he’d be left without release, and in a split moment I stubbornly made up my mind that I needed to make him cum, right there right that instant. But the man was cleaning me up, that was simply terrible!

Another whine, this time more desperate and forlorn, finally tore Yoongi from his chore and he gave me a soft smile, worriedly looking at me to ascertain what was wrong.

“What’s up, baby? What’s wrong?” he asked gently, and I whined again, frustrated with myself that it took me such an effort to put together a simple sentence, but finally I managed to sweat it out.

“Wanna make you cum,” I whimpered pathetically, and the man was split between smug smirks and kind smiles – obviously still horny out of his mind but thinking that he shouldn’t push me.

“You’re such a good girl angel, wanting to take care of me, but I can manage,” Yoongi tried to soften the rejection as much as possible, afraid I would take it badly while I was in a fragile state. But thankfully I was steadily regaining all of my abilities again, and I squirmed on the poor little table that went through all this with me.

“Green,” I stated firmly, looking him in the eye, still somewhat dazed but much more present, “Please fuck me too, Yoongi, please. Wanna feel you cum. Want you to use me as a toy.” The compassionate care-taking look immediately drained out of his eyes, and for the first time I was hit with the full force of his arousal. His dark blown-out pupils starvingly regarded me, hands now giving up on the cloth and instead slowly making their way to my stomach and waist.

“Well,” the ginger whispered sensually, “since you’re begging so nicely…” My cunt clenched at those words, slowly coming back alive and contracting almost painfully in such feral anticipation it left me breathless. The prospect of having him buried inside of me hilt-deep was enough to almost make me drool again, and I spread my legs more to him.

Yoongi’s gaze was trained on my chest though, hands reverently kneading the skin on their way up until he grasped my tits, letting out a staggered sigh. But as soon as he got there he flinched away, pulling himself away to fling his shirt off, hands excitedly tearing at his pants and getting them off as quickly as was humanly possible.

“I swear to god I normally put more care into foreplay, but I’m about to fucking explode,” Yoongi breathed out apological, snatching the condom Hoseok leaned over to give him and without wasting any time pulling it onto his throbbing red cock with a hiss of relief.

I only nodded, eyes too busy sliding over his naked torso and admiring his pretty tits and slim waist. He could probably stick it right in now and wouldn’t meet a shadow of resistance, my cunt was so nicely slicked up and fucked out, so ready and hungry for him it was basically begging to get railed.

Still the man leaned over me as he shuffled closer, putting himself firmly between my thighs and pressing his length into my slit while be busied himself licking and mouthing over my tits. His body was curled over me nicely, damp skin pressed into damp skin and driving the temperature even higher, making me feel small and safe under him, and my hands grabbed onto him, desperately whining and pulling him closer.

With a soft groan he finally folded and reached between us, grabbing himself and guiding his cock into my awaiting cunt – and I was right – I was so wet I swallowed him all up and he slid all in on the first try. He was thicker than Hoseok (even though not as long) and hit all the right spots on the way in. I released a pleased little sigh, basking in the feeling of being full again, but the man was in considerably worse shape.

Unlike Hoseok’s unabashed high moans, Yoongi was full of gruff drawn-out groans and gasps while his hips jumped on their own, starting up a slow grind to curb the edge of the surmounting pleasure.

“Fuck baby, this won’t last long at all,” the man giggled somewhat shyly, planting his face right into the crook of my neck to kiss there as he tried to prolong the experience for as long as possible. I released my own little breathless snicker, and that had Yoongi giving me a chastising look, raising an eyebrow at me in signal that he was still ready to put me in my place if I chose to brat out. I didn’t, only gave him a blissed-out smile and rolled my hips with a sigh.

Yoongi only hummed, and I almost expected him to start up some smartass monologuing, but then he was thrusting forward, hard and deep, and it knocked all thoughts out of my mind. The ginger man’s style was completely different from the fucking I received before him – he started up with a slow but rough pace, focusing on jerking into me forcefully and sliding as far as my body would allow instead on quickness.

While Hoseok’s fucking was a chaotic hot mess of quick-paced rough sex that left me breathless, Yoongi plastered himself to me and went unhurriedly but on every heavy thrust imprinted himself deeper and deeper into my core and fully overwhelmed my senses. The ringing in my ears started up again, and I was already overheating with the gooey ball of fire forming in my belly. I felt dizzy and hazy, my little moans and sighs getting cut off midway with the power behind Yoongi’s hips.

He played me masterfully, gradually speeding up, at first not fast enough to have me notice but to have my nerves overloaded with a mounting surge of pleasure. Then he ended it all. With a smirk that I would have found insufferable in any other circumstance (or if I was more present and not losing my mind on a cock) his hand lazily dragged up my tummy, up my chest, teasingly squeezing a tit on the way, before it settled on my neck. Game over town.

I froze, tensing underneath the man, and then I melted, stretching my head away and offering up my neck all he wanted with a whimper and a whine. And with a chuckle he used it all to his advantage, dear god that he did.

“Let’s go back to our roots, princess,” he whispered meanly straight into my ear, naughty lips brushing the shell of my ear while his hand tightened a touch, “isn’t this what you asked for those two weeks ago?” A barrage of moans spilled out of my slack mouth, my mind already burning with the anticipation of the tight hold of his beautiful strong hands.

Yoongi seemed to have pulled himself together a little for the purpose of teasing this out for a little longer, though both of us were already running full speed towards the finish line.

He straightened out, looming over me darkly with hungry eyes as his hand slowly tightened around my neck, lightly squeezing the sides to give me the rush of adrenaline. Any noise that would have barrelled out of my hoarse throat got cut off and I got light-headed fast, with all the sensations running through me with the flow of oxygen significantly lessened pushing me into an almost out of body experience.

The ginger man picked up his pace, delivering rough hard deep thrusts, eyes hazy and reflecting just how close he was to his own climax. I felt his dick throb and twitch as it rammed into my sweet spot, practically pushing both of us into the beginning stages of overstimulation because neither of us could hold on for much longer.

Hoseok still leisurely sat by us, leaning into the sofa and watching everything unfold half naked, underwear back on but pants still wide open and chest on full display. His eyes were darkened in interest, but he looked proper sated and only enjoying the show as a bystander. I noticed the dark-haired man’s eyes glued to the hand on my neck, eating up the desperate expression on my face and the flush spreading over me whole, like he was filing it all into his memory for a rainy day.

A quick slap to the side of my thigh brought my attention back to the man that was currently railing me into the next week, and he tsked at me with mocking mischievous eyes when he saw me flushing under him in embarrassment.

“Pay attention to me princess,” he hissed breathlessly, “you can ogle Hobi later.” That had his friend chuckling and he shuffled closer, settling in behind me. One of his hands slid softly into my hair only to grab roughly and pull my head back, adding the sting of pain to my already overloaded brain trying to keep up with the periodic tightening and loosening of Yoongi’s hand on my throat and the onslaught of pleasure from his cock. He kept my head in place as he leaned in close and started whispering sweetly into my ears.

All praises, good girl, doing so good, you’re perfect and more, all spilling from his beautiful lips like caramel candy and melting over me, sinking me deeper into staticky molases-like headspace.

“That’s right, what a good girl,” Yoongi reiterated, mumbling the praises with a heavy tongue, he himself slipping into the cosmic pull of the promised high, “take what you need, pretty girl, let go.”

And I did.

The build up of the orgasm creeped up on me – there was no monumental wave, no big crash, only slowly rising tide pulling me deeper and deeper without me realising how close I was to getting pulled under.

The constant stimuli of the Yoongi’s hips barrelling into mine, slapping into my clit and filling me so deliciously I wanted to scream and growl, my body wanted to twist under the pleasure but he kept me in place, not giving me any other choice but to lie still and take the endless cycle of lust and ecstasy, his hand squeezing my neck whenever he pleased, letting his presence known and pushing me into the table, forcing me back into the cotton candy hum as my oxygen deprived brain desperately fought to keep up.

I let it all wash over me, fully trying to feel all the sensations at once and getting hit with the flood of good good good oh god yes god yes please until I was screaming under them, body convulsing and cunt clenching on him one last time before I released all. The relief of the orgasm was immense and I went slack almost immediately while my thighs shook around Yoongi, the slick squelch of my pussy intensifying with every helpless pump.

Distantly I realised my own screams and moans while my body shook with the waves and aftershocks, until I went ragdoll on them and nothing but pure satisfaction and contentment flowed through me, mind completely scrambled.

Yoongi released his hold on me, instead hauling my legs over his shoulders and pressing my thighs to his abdomen, hips kicking up in pace. I twitched under him, pussy sore and sensitive but still willing to receive him in all his glory.

I heard the hitches in Yoongi’s breathing, both me and Hoseok watching him from below as he blindly chased after his climax knowing he’s so close it was palpable in the air.

Then a few rough pumps later the man suddenly pulled out, hand tearing the condom away and hurriedly jerking his red angry cock until he was twitching and spilling all over the back of my thighs. I felt his hot cum hit my heated skin and my cunt clenched so hard it was almost painful; at that moment I thanked god it wasn’t enough to get me going again, because I didn’t think I could handle another round.

Yoongi was still grunting and groaning breathlessly, one hand supporting him on the table while he attempted to catch his breath while Hoseok gently caressed my arms and hair to help me come down from everything.

I was too tired to think about anything, I just wanted to sink into their warmth and let them lull me to comfortable sleep. I let them manhandle me into a better position to be cleaned up, but I grumbled the whole time, already halfway unconscious and annoyed at being jostled from the soft floaty space somewhere above this plane of existence.

To their credit, they both tried their best to move me as slowly as possible, both softly cooing at me and giving out praises easily, but I ended up blinking the tiredness out of my eyes anyway and my brain cleared up. I still ate it all up and played up my grumbling to their great amusement.

Moments later I found myself wrapped in Yoongi’s black oversized hoodie, lying down on a comfortable soft blanket on the carpet with a pillow stuffed between my head and arm, while the men cuddled up to me from both sides. Something thin and cool was thrown over all of us, not exactly a blanket, but enough to give me the feel of not being completely exposed.

“You should let your friends know you’re okay,” Yoongi whispered, Hoseok sleepily humming from my other side, and before I could complain whinily about not knowing where my phone is, he was pressing it into my clumsy uncoordinated hands. I mumbled my thanks and blinked through the sudden ray of light cutting straight into my eyes. Blindly I clicked on the chat and wrote something half passing as a reassurement.

Petty bitch: mission accomplished sleeping over

With that I was completely dead to the world – all snuggled up into a lightly snoring Hoseok while Yoongi’s hand tenderly caressed up and down my side, not even realising an immediate answer came through.

Pink nightmare: atta girl :*

“Jesus fucking christ, I might have as well gotten run over by a truck,” were the first words tumbling out of my lips that morning when Hoseok shook me awake mumbling something about putting my clothes on.

Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, but at least the dark-haired man seemed to be similarly ruffled as he tried to stretch out groaning, face puffy and tired. He still giggled at my words though, and helped me stand up.

I did try to put my clothes on, but none of my limbs were cooperating and I ended up fumbling around like a newborn giraffe until Hoseok took pity on me and pulled my clothes on for me as I steadied myself on his shoulder. He was laughing at me the whole time, to which I replied by smacking him repeatedly while whining that this was all their fault.

As we stumbled back into the club area hand in hand, I finally got a glimpse of the ginger man, who was standing by the bar laughing around with a tired but still happy looking Tae. They seemed to be counting last night’s profit and the ginger bastard looked completely fine, a total one eighty from the two of us making our way over in snail’s pace.

Tae saw us first and the smirk he gave us was so shit-eating even I was considering slapping it off his face (a sentiment which seemed to be returned by Hoseok whole-heartedly). Yoongi’s laugh joined into the fray, and we just stood there and listened to them be greatly amused by the state of us.

“Holy shit hyung! What the fuck did you do to them?” exclaimed the other barkeep, a small thin guy with a pretty face and cutesy vibe, who was cackling like the devil himself when Hoseok glared at him, one arm still pulled around me like we were leaning on each other to stand (we might have been, honestly I was still pretty much asleep).

“Shut it Jimin-ah, I might still decide to keep the bonus to myself,” the man by my side threatened with no real heat behind it, and thus was promptly ignored by all three other occupants of the club while they entertained themselves by snickering at us.

Yoongi slowly walked over, face melting into something a little softer as he took us in, the slightest bit of worry worming onto his face. “You both okay, right?” he whispered to us, one hand squeezing my arm and other squeezing Hoseok’s. I snickered right back at him, amused by how he was trying to not show his tender side.

“Yeah, don’t worry, just half asleep on my feet,” I replied loudly, earning some chuckles from the two young guys at the bar, but they did seem quite used to their hyung’s shenanigans.

He lightly squeezed my shoulder before letting go, more serious gaze sent towards his business partner and friend, which had Hoseok sobering up pretty quickly.

“I’m sorry princess, we’d love to have a breakfast, but unfortunately we have a meeting with a potential partner,” Yoongi explained apologetically, and Hoseok groaned next to me, crumbling into my shoulder and loudly fake crying.

“I completely forgot about that,” he whinily complained, arms snaking around my waist like I was his personal emotional support stuffed animal (well, I was stuffed just a few hours prior, soo…), “I’ll have to go shower and change home and it’s across the whole city.” Yoongi looked unimpressed and pulled him from my side, the man pouting and blinking at him in an attempt to garner sympathy.

“Come on Seok-ah, Kookie’s here to drive us and my place is closer,” the ginger man murmured, trying to placate him – and it worked. Whoever this Kookie was, Hoseok brightened right up at the mention of him and started happily skipping towards the exit.

There was some booing and disgruntled “you’re never this happy about seeing me hyung!” screaming from behind the bar, but all fell on deaf ears as Yoongi started pulling me after the man and I barely even managed to shout my goodbyes.

“Kookie’ll get you home, pretty girl,” he promised with a tender smile, looking so kind and gentle it was almost a whiplash from the predatory smirk and sharp eyes from yesterday. Hoseok was already on the street hanging off of a laughing tattooed man.

His name was Jungkook I learnt, and he was pretty cool and obviously loved both men as his brothers, as the teasing and jokes flew between them the whole ride. Yoongi and Hoseok requested to be dropped off first, so I sat squeezed between them in the backseat while I bickered with Jungkook about the best drama currently running on TV.

Once out of car at the given address, both the men suddenly did seem quite in a hurry, but neither of them left without a hug, a kiss and some naughty words exchanged sneakily while their hands possessively grabbed at me unwilling to part.

“Keep the hoodie, princess,” Yoongi said finally, pulling Seok away and pointing at the clothing I forgot I was still wearing, “You can return it to me next time.” They both winked at me and with that, they were gone – disappearing into a very nice high-rise building in a posh neighbourhood.

With a bit of shame and still blushing from their displays of affection I told Jungkook my own address and he took me there gladly, even though he was teasing me about his hyungs the whole time.

It was all over too soon – before I knew I was standing in front of my quite average building, waving off Jungkook as he drove off god knows where, feeling quite happy even if a little lonely after spending the night with the two men.

His promise of seeing me again kept me warm though, and I reached in my handbag to pull out my keys – only for a little piece of paper to fall out. I bent over and took a look at it before bursting out laughing.

Min Yoongi +82 145-5286-036, Jung Hoseok +82 634-1654-220

Those sly bastards.

divider from @saradika-graphics <3

[todaystarot]

What Will Your Future Child Love About You?

- a pick a card.

one two three

explanation.

I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet… Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card that’s focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you don’t want children, that’s cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.

disclaimer.

Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I don’t trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, what’s not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.

how to pick your pile.

There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you can’t take your eyes off, even if there’s another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.

proof read?

Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.

one

You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! It’s truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldn’t always be calm, but you wouldn’t show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you aren’t capable. -

Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isn’t something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you weren’t happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldn’t get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.

📜 nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands

confirmation.

high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , ‘i will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, ‘vanessa open the door please’, ‘ (…)running out of time’ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile

two

Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldn’t, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didn’t do anything. Such a pure child, the sort that’s very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. It’s like they can’t imagine a life without you.

Now, I don’t mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I don’t mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we don’t know each other, but it’s always nice to look after your health regardless.

On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.

You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.

📜 six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles

confirmation.

twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , ‘i bet on losing dogs’ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -

three

Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesn’t always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. That’s not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you don’t misunderstand the rest of the reading.

They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Y’all will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they don’t even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they don’t look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things aren’t always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Won’t matter if they are in the wrong or not, that’s your baby and you will stand by them!

They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.

Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying “look what I have to deal with”, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for y’all.

📜 nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands

confirmation.

thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , ‘i know a place we can escape ‘ , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC. Talon Dick. Part 2 of Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls

~Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you~

Danny was terrified when he got the body of Talon in his morgue. The Court of Owls was notorious for leaving no trace after work. But Talon, a young man only a few years older than him, did not look like a mindless killing machine at all. Of course, the first time he had a couple of stab wounds from his new acquaintance but after numerous assurances that his help would remain their little secret and that he would not inform his superiors that he had fucked up on the mission, Talon began to trust him a little. as one dead boy to another. In a few months, most of the Talons come to him for first aid, and of course he got attached to the guys. After all, Gotham is not Amity Park and without the other dead ones around Phantom felt a little lonely. It was nice to give these poor people a few quiet minutes. Danny’s assistant has warned him many times not to mess with the Court of Owls, but Danny are Phantom and from the first time he met one of them he was planning to lose his temper and beat the boys' bosses to free them.

Fenton was not prepared to lead the Court of Owls. Even if Danny got his education as a villain he never thought he’d work according to his profession. But leave a whole den? nest? of creatures turned into weapons he could not. Of course, the best choice after defeating the leaders of the Court would be to destroy the entire organization. But Danny couldn’t do that.

Talons were killers, means of intimidation, even if not of their own volition. They will be killed (again) or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. Talons needed safety and a good therapist, not all of this. Danny’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to take care of them, but the others won’t do it. People are afraid of everything different. They won’t care that these dead are just victims, they’ll only see monsters. He could be half-human, but now he has to think like a full ghost. Talons are dead like him. And they have been dehumanized, tortured, used. People can be cruel. To do the right thing, he has to protect them.

It was difficult for Danny to identify likes and dislikes of his new friends because they always had the same facial expression and were taught that they had no feelings. Bullshit. Danny’s parents also think ghosts have no emotions, but they just have wrong theories and do not manipulate them to make ghosts think the same. Well, maybe it’s because they don’t think ghosts can think at all, but still! So, Danny know that number three loves strawberry jam, and number five always steals some of his cereal, and number 11 always gets closer to the music column to enjoy the sound. And he also know that the Talons weren’t fully fed in their organization because they definitely have problems with their digestive system, and he is going to fix it. Vlad said that he had trouble taking human food for only a few months after the portal accident, and some of the Talons were dead for years and still use injecting nutrient solutions. When a Dead Man can’t have a couple of spoons of treats, well, that’s a crime.

He needs to find a way to consult with Frostbite and conduct a full-fledged health diagnostics for his 'minions'. And he needs to settle the paperwork so guys have a legitimate reason to live in the Infinite Realms.

~~~~~ Danny: Hey Jazz, I’m in trouble. When can you come to Gotham? This time I don’t mind hearing a little advice.

~~~~~

Even though Dr Fenton smelled like death and blood all the time, the smell was different. And this difference was enough that something dead inside them swore allegiance to this Owl at their will. Not that they had it, of course. Weapons don’t have free will. But at least pretending to be able to choose is nice.

The new Master was weird, but in a good way. Not that this Talon know more about what is good than any other Talon. Ah, Di- Talon had a headache. Anyway, serving him is right. They all feel it..And feelings matter!! Well, they are not supposed to have them too but… looks like the young owl didn’t mind.

Master was not angry at how Talon № 4 frowned when the master had to pull a bullet out of his shoulder, and he missed Talon's sweet laughter when it saw the battle of Signal and Spice King on TV. The only times he raised his voice to them were when they were trying to threaten people near the master. Looks like this owl wanted to instill fear on his own. Strange. Usually there was always an enemy of the court who had to be hunted down and destroyed.

~~~~~

Danny: See, when you kill people, you do not make it easy for me. First, I will need to examine the bodies and write the report of their death. Second, if their souls remain restless, they will become my problem again. No more trying to get the cashier to have a heart attack. He said they ran out of the product I needed, not that he’s cursing my family for the next millennium. No one wants to see any more angry ghosts in Gotham. Me after a 24-hour shift is enough, okay?

Talons were alarmed. So far the master had shown no signs that he might want to completely break one of the weapons. But what if this owl is planning on punishing them for all their mistakes at once when he’s really angry?

Talon is not supposed to show initiative or empathy. But Talon 12, who suffered an injury in the course of a mission with old owls, has not yet recovered. They inadvertently hid it when the leadership changed. 12 has not yet met Doctor Fenton, and they do not know whether the privileges of medical care are retained now when they belong to him. So far, the Master has been rather careless about their movements and a few of them have slipped away for a while to check on a fellow. They didn’t lie if they weren’t asked about another weapon, right? They shouldn’t be punished too severely when the Owl finds out. Talons were hoping that Doctor Fenton, who was not in a hurry to look at the document of the court, would allow them not to write off the damaged thing. № 12 was an old and experienced weapon and could train beginners even if it has only one hand now.

Well, that was the plan. Talons allowed themselves to become too careless. Terrible mistake. Even the Owl that is usually nice to them remains dangerous. They need to find a way to satisfy their young master. Young Owls always have anger issues, not that Talons can judge.

The youngest Talon shared information that he sometimes had flashbacks of a working red bird who always had a murderous expression until he got to the coffee pot fluid. And it's non-Talon past was never afraid of this bird. The chick could always be calmed with this dark liquid. Coffee is something that will return the master to the favorable mood!

Talons rejoiced at this remarkable discovery and decided to send one of them on a mission as soon as possible to get rid of the potential danger.

~~~~

Danny: Thanks for the coffee, man. Hey, you also took another drink, judging by the dollars in the check. I'm so proud of you! How it was? Good?

Talon thought for a second and nodded. Yes, it was good. He didn’t drink the drink himself but when a coffee shop employee wrote down his order with a trembling hand, a boy appeared in the door.

This boy, now almost a young man, he was from his memories. Another coffee was automatically added to the order.

On his way out, Talon walked up to the sleeping chick and gave a cup to him. Even without opening his eyes, the bat’s cub sniffed and sucked the drink. Dick chirped with delight and patted boy's head, ignoring the frozen people.

That's a true magic drink which is commanding the minds of the powerful of this world. Yes, it will help them for sure!

~~~~

Danny: See, Jazz, Dick’s making progress! He went to the coffee shop today. That’s great, isn’t it?

Jazz: First, don’t call him that, we’re still not sure that’s his name and not the way Owls used to insult him.

Danny: Hey, the fact that he hissed when you called him Richard proves nothing. I don’t like being called Daniel either, or, over my dead body, Dan. I have to call him something. They’re all Talons. What are your suggestions? Jazz: We’ll talk about this later. Now back to the coffee question. Danny, did you forget anything when you let Talon go for a walk? Danny: Which one? Jazz: Don’t play dumb! Did you open the news headlines today or not? This is serious! Danny: What? Shit...civilian clothes. I didn’t think he’d wear a combat suit for it. Jazz: Didn’t you give them outfits for everyday use? Danny: Yeah, I did! But they still wear their Halloween outfits. All the time. Look, it’s not my fault they take everything I say as an order. When I asked them to make the tea and our teapot broke, they broke into some guy’s house and stole it. Jazz: Which guy? Did you at least apologize? Danny: One of Hood’s goons. I’m pretty sure he’s already met Dick on patrol, 'cause the first thing he did called Jason and start crying about being followed. Lucky for him Red was at my house that night and went to calm goon down. But I swear to you, Dick was a little shit on purpose. Of all the apartments choose his? Nah, such coincidences do not exist.

Jazz: I could be happy that he’s getting more independent in his decision making but now I feel like I have to offer the poor guy a discount therapy course.

Damian: Drake, we need to talk. I know about your investigation. You suspect one of the Talons is our missing Grayson. I’m willing to provide some evidence in exchange for… Tim: I don’t suspect, I know that. Damian: What? Where from? Tim: Well, the quadruple somersault was a good hint. And the fact that the Red Hood ran from him through the streets screaming that he wouldn’t take lunch from a damn golden child is also a tip. Damian:...Not a word to my father until we know more, right? I don’t want my older brother thrown in Arkham. Tim: Agree. It’s not like he doesn’t have a memory problem. He wouldn’t have made Alfred worried if leaving was his choice. We need more information.

Meanwhile in Gotham, Alfred aka the only one batfam member with more than one functioning brain cell *on his way to his first grandson and future husband of his sweet angel Jason*.

Danny: Jazz, we need to clean this house right now. Jazz: Since when do you start spring cleaning? Danny: I don’t know how to explain, it’s not a ghost sense, it’s more an unexplained sense of danger. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?

~~~~~

Talon №5 stood in the knitting shop in thought. What color would the little mistress prefer? It should remain useful even if the Owl does not give them direct orders. Knitting a cute sweater for mistress Dani would be a good start. Yeah, that color’s gonna be perfect. And maybe it should stop holding those needles like a weapon, it makes the cashier nervous, and he wants to pay without saving a civilian from losing consciousness.

~~~~~

Danny became a little alarmed when Talon threw himself at the old man standing on the porch. To his surprise, the Briton readily embraced the bird, and Dick let him. Talons who stood behind Danny happily chirped. Making their youngest member happy things always meant something good.

Alfred: Gentlemen, good afternoon. I guess I should thank you all for taking care of my dear grandson. Would you let me come in for a cup of tea?

[felibrary]

╭──╯ DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION !

PAIRING: jiaoqiu x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: how does a healer heal himself when he falls ill? the answer is he doesn't, after all, you're here to take care of him!; alternatively your boyfriend's sick, and despite all his refusals you insist on taking care of him.

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k | CONTENT & WARNINGS: did i play the tb mission yet..no, did i still write this? yes cause i just man idek okay, jiaoqiu might be ooc, banter and bickering and just tooth-rotting fluff (and jiaoqiu rots in bed..literally lol)

TAGS: @azullumi (i hate all of your fans for choosing the blind date one. reject them exes and bring back hanahaki diseases and yearning 🔥🔥)

AUTHORS NOTE: the closed eyes remind me of jouno. jiaoqiu pls dont die. also im trying to be more dialogue-centrish here cause im not familiar with his character yet soooo no metaphors for now

“jiaoqiu, would it kill you to stay in bed for at least once?”

the scent of freshly brewed green tea and aromatic congee slowly fills the air and you lean back against the counter, with your hands on the surface of the kitchen island and a deadpan expression you stare right at your boyfriend who has only woken up now.

an expression that brings no good settles onto jiaoqiu’s face. “do you need help?” jiaoqiu smiles mirthfully and without hearing your answer he swiftly brushes past you. in the blink of an eye, jiaoqiu picks up the kitchen knife lying on the cutting board before expertly chopping the spring onions into thin rings to later sprinkle over the congee.

he cannot be serious right now.

you have to prevent yourself from sighing out loud before grabbing him by the shoulders to make him turn around  “stop being so stubborn and return to bed,” you’re not sure if the reason you’re heating is up due to the congee whose heat is emitting into the air, the close proximity between you and jiaoqiu that makes your heart skip a beat or two, or the fact that jiaoqiu’s sick and is probably spreading his sickness over to you. 

the latter sounds the most reasonable. 

as it seems (and as expected) your demand goes in one (or well two) ears and out of the other one(s). “and since when are you the doctor?” his cheeky tone and the smirk he throws you are both infuriating. “but, i guess i’m lucky to have such a smart and not to mention beautiful partner who cares about my well-being,” he remarks lovingly. 

“you think you can bribe me with sugar-coated words?” as sweet as he might be, you won’t let him off the hook so easily. after all, he also deserves to rest, especially when sick. 

someone who only takes care of others and their well-being but never their own, will meet their demise sooner than those who constantly seek out help, due to never confiding in others when facing hardships.

“i’m simply stating the truth.” he chortles gleefully, tilting his head to the side while doing so.

“what a charmer you are,” you reply dryly before taking a few steps away from him. “anyway, as you’ve already mentioned your oh-so-smart and beautiful partner cares about your well-being, so i ask you to go back to bed, and get your well-deserved rest,” you quickly change the subject.

ironically nothing escapes jiaoqiu’s attentive gaze, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed the rosy tint on your ears by now. but even if that were the case he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it.

“as much as i appreciate your concern, there’s really no need. i’ve experienced much worse and more severe illnesses. a little fever won’t be the death of me.” jiaoqiu shrugs in simplicity, brushing it off as no big deal.

“you’re such a handful to deal with sometimes,” you mumble under your breath before swiftly pressing your hand onto his forehead and withdrawing it as quickly. “jiaoqiu. you’re literally burning up.” 

you don’t wait for him to respond — you won’t give him the time to respond before reaching down and searching for his hand. his lithe fingers find yours and you carefully lace them together before guiding (dragging) him back to the bedroom and forcing him to lie back down as you crouch at his side.

the wet towel that sits all scrunched up in the plastic bowl right next to his bed seems all wrung out already catches your attention and you sigh. “sorry, that i didn’t come earlier to refresh the water,” jiaoqiu’s ears perk up at your apologetic tone and he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”

“stay here, i’ll get you a new one. don’t move while i’m gone okay? just try to relax a bit.” the only thing you receive as a form of acknowledgment is a quiet hum before rushing off to the bathroom to fill the bowl with new cold water.

you return just as quickly as you left and begin to wring the piece of cloth and fold it into a rectangle before placing it onto jiaoqiu’s forehead. “is this okay?” you ask, carefully brushing the strands of hair that stick to the damp towel away. again, a mere hum is the only answer you receive from him.

as you’re reminded of the green tea and congee that are still in the kitchen you jump up. “right i almost forgot the food, i’ll go and get it. wait here for me.” you turn around and before you can even fully leave the room, a whine of your name makes you turn around.

“can you turn the pillow for me? this side is too warm.” your boyfriend starts to complain and you can’t help but stare (in surprise or irritation, you don’t know — maybe both.) you help your boyfriend up and make him lean against the headboard as he continuously holds the wet towel against his forehead. “here,” you present him and he smiles in satisfaction. 

he settles back into bed you assume he has no more requests thus you decide to leave and reside in the kitchen once more. the aroma of spices fills your nose once more and you can’t help but smile as you take the lid of the pot off before using a ladle to scoop the congee into a bowl. 

you reach for a porcelain cup and pour the green tea into it before placing it on a tray with the congee to bring it to jiaoqiu.

as soon as you enter his room, jiaoqiu’s ears perk up. “i’ve missed you,” he expresses wholeheartedly and that makes your heart melt. it’s these moments where you get reminded how lucky to have him. “so now that you’re back can you turn my pillow around again? this side heated up much faster than anticipated.”

okay so maybe you weren’t that grateful to have him.

you sigh and put the tray down on his (unexpectedly but pleasing) tidy desk, normally it would’ve been filled with a bunch of different notes and recipes for both meals and medicines, but it’s exceptionally organized today. 

once again you help your boyfriend once again by flipping his pillow before grabbing the bowl of congee and handing it to him. upon him not accepting, let alone acknowledging the food before him, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“what? do you want me to feed you next princess?” you scoff and although your remark is sarcastic, jiaoqiu can’t help but smile cheekily. “well if you’re already offeri-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you shove the metal spoon full of congee into his mouth which slightly catches him off guard and makes him open his eyes for a split second.

although you’ve seen his eyes countless times, you can’t help but admire them. his eyes resemble honey, beautiful and golden but also sickeningly sweet and addicting. “you know you’re so much more beautiful when you shut up for once,” you tease.

Jiaoqiu detaches himself from the spoon and scoffs. “should’ve added black pepper instead of white pepper. you know that i favor intense flavors over mild ones.” he complains and you can’t help but crack a smile. ”stop being a picky eater and eat.”

END NOTE: this has been sitting in my drafts since June 21 LMFAO but yeah here it is!! also does this look proofread to yall cause it really isn't its quite literally 3am and school's starting next week. my sleeping schedule's so fucked up I'm crying. but shoutouts to Grammarly for proofreading tho fawk u for saying i need Grammarly pro to see my other 92 mistakes like okay. in this economy??

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 14

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 9.7k

warnings: a LOT of bodyshaming and fathobia and sexism

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 14/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“I hope you know that I appreciate all the things you’ve been telling me. I know it can’t be easy, all the things you’ve gone through. So I appreciate it, even if I unfortunately…”

“Don’t have much to say?” you smile at him as you turn to close his bedroom door behind you.

“Yeah. It’s a lot different than when I’m talking to someone who maybe just got out of a… situation because, while that’s always hard, you just have to listen and assure them they did the right thing, going to the cops and that we’ll guide them through the rest and hopefully help them get justice. That it wasn’t their fault, you know? But you know all that already, and I’m not much help; in fact, I was a big part of your problem and going to the police probably made it worse in your case because we let you down instead of helping you.”

It’s sad, the way he says it, reaching for the collar of his t-shirt at the back of his neck. He pulls it over his head before he suddenly stops, the shirt stuck across his lowered arms. You meet his deer-in-the-headlights eyes and see how it dawns on him that despite explaining earlier that he wants to keep his shirt on–at least with you in the house?–he hasn’t actually been committing to that promise. You wonder if it had anything to do with his scars, if he wanted to spare you from seeing them or just not risk you being uncomfortable.

“It’s fine, take it off,” you comment casually, “but do know that I might warm my cold feet against your skin.”

He grins, finally removing the shirt entirely and throwing it onto the chair in the corner. “Feel free.”

Flicking the lights off, Jeongguk joins you in the dark, getting under the duvet and getting comfortable.

It’s silent for a while, and you’re halfway between sleep and consciousness when Jeongguk says something you definitely weren’t expecting.

“Are you still scared of me?”

You roll over to face him, even though the room is almost pitch black.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I think that I will always be aware… of what you can do. Even right now, if you in this moment decided to hurt me, there would be nothing I could do about it. I can spend my days in the gym but odds are a vast majority of men could overpower me anyway. If I were to trust my gut, it would say that you’re a… good guy, but I know that most women murdered by a man they knew or even their male partners didn’t fall for someone openly abusive. They’re sweet at the start, and then they change. Hoseong was like that too; kind until he wasn’t. I know you know that because he fooled you too.

“When it comes to you, I think the only reason I’m here with you is because of what you did that night. I would’ve found any reason to believe that you were still playing a game of making me trust you, just waiting for the right moment to strike, if I hadn’t seen you fight them. No matter how talented of an actor you are, they were prepared to kill you, and you… were prepared to die.

“And this…” you move your hand under the sheets, tentatively finding his chest and the scar. “I don’t like looking at it, and it feels like it’s my fault your mom almost lost her son, but it’s also… almost a relief. I don’t have to second-guess if you really want to help me or if it’s just a long con to… finish something. But like I said… just because you haven’t tried to kill me yet doesn’t statistically mean you won’t. I don’t think you will, but then again, there are a lot of dead women who probably wouldn’t have imagined their murderer being someone they knew.”

Jeongguk places his hand over yours on his chest. “For what it’s worth, I could never hurt you. I know I did; that I hurt you emotionally and scared you, but not even when I thought you were the most selfish person on the planet would I have physically hurt you.”

“I will let the fact that I came to live with you speak for how I feel about you, or at least want to feel about you. Also the fact that I’m sleeping in your bed with you.”

“That you find me entirely irresistible, dying to be close to me at all times?”

You roll your eyes, however, blood rushes to your cheeks. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Good that we’re on the same page then, cause I’m kinda stuck on the fact that you kissed me.”

Inevitably, your cheeks warm up further, but it’s okay since it’s dark anyway.

“I did. It was a good kiss.”

“Yeah. I totally wouldn’t hate it if you did it again. In fact, I am open to kisses anytime, just as I am hand-holding.”

“You’re sure? Even from me?”

You hate that you have to ask, but… you do.

“Absolutely.”

You consider it for a moment, but eventually decide to trust his words, at least tonight. Empowered by the dark, you move your hand from his chest. It travels over his warm neck before it reaches his jaw. Your heart beats so hard you’re almost convinced he can hear it, but you ignore it and move closer. Despite the dark, you see his face and how he’s smiling, patiently waiting. It’s both a blessing and a hellish curse how handsome he is; he truly takes your breath away. 

Using your hand, you move your hair away, and you lean down to connect your lips. His are so soft, and he kisses you back so sweetly, letting you set the pace. You move your mouth against his, pulling back an inch just to do it again. Jeongguk lets his hand hold your waist, and even though kissing him is… a dream, you’re reminded that there’s a limit you’re not comfortable crossing.

So you pull back, but you still let him hold your waist.

“There.”

You fall asleep quicker than the nights before. A few hours later–and a few hours before morning–you blink your eyes open, finding yourself entangled with him. You’ve got your arm thrown over his middle, your cheek resting on his naked chest, right below his chin, and one of your legs lies between his.

For a while, you listen to his breaths, thinking about what it is that you’re doing. He’s so warm, and he feels so… safe, but there’s still a certain thought in your head.

When you wake up the next time, you’re once again alone in Jeongguk’s bed, and the first thought crossing your mind is how unnecessary boarding up your window really was when you’re practically almost always sleeping in his bed these days. Also, does he count on being able to hear a potential intruder trying to break in through his window? Because there is one, and it’s definitely not boarded up.

Your curiosity grows when you hear Jeongguk move throughout the house, and the sound of a…. what is that?

Rolling out of his bed, you yawn as you open the bedroom door to almost run head first into a stressed-looking Jeongguk. The sound you heard you identify as the now turned off blow dryer, something you’ve borrowed yourself but never seen him use. Looking up, you realize that, yeah, his hair is still wet from a shower and blow drying it means that he either doesn’t want to wait for it to air dry or he can’t.

“You’re going to the station?” you ask, noticing that he is actually indeed wearing his dark blue, almost black uniform.

“Yeah, uh, multiple trafficking victims on their way. Want to be there before they arrive.”

A very specific feeling moves through your chest; an uncomfortable sadness that someone has most likely been through hell, but there’s a warmth there too, for Jeongguk.

“What are you looking for?”

He looks around, patting his pockets, “Uhm, I have my phone, wallet, house keys. I need the… bike key and the helmet. The helmet is probably in the garage, but I’m not sure where the key is.”

You blink, trying to remember what jacket he was wearing the last time you recall him using the bike. The leather one, right? You step up to the coat rack, looking through the jackets until you find it. Swiftly, you search the pockets until… 

“Found it. Do I put it in your uniform jacket?”

“Oh, thank you. Yes, please,” he says over the sound of the blow dryer that he grabs once more.

You watch him dry his hair, incessantly running his fingers through it to speed up the process. A few minutes later, he turns the machine off and runs his fingers through the black hair one last time, “It’ll have to do.”

Then, he’s gathering his stuff, taking the jacket from your hands and heading toward the door leading to the garage as he throws it on. “Not sure when I’ll be back, it might take a while cause I don’t know how many they are or what they’ve been through, but I can update you?”

“Jeongguk?”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Come here for a second.”

Confused, he takes the four steps until he’s in front of you looking down curiously but a little stressed at you.

You smile at him, at how pretty and caring he is. “Be careful.”

He grins, a little surprised. “I always am. But it’s mostly just letting them talk and writing it all down, and–”

“I meant on the road. With the bike. I know you can handle the case.”

“Oh. Will do.”

For a millisecond, he looks at you, his bottom lip bitten. Then he’s pulling you closer by your waist, pecking your lips sweetly.

“I’ll see you later.”

With warm cheeks, you watch him enter the garage, thinking of his kind, brown eyes. You don’t know what to feel.

When Jeongguk returns, he’s angry. He doesn’t say much except frustratingly relaying that apparently, one of the women had called the police about a creepy neighbor appearing to watch her house six months ago. The two officers sent did absolutely nothing at all. Couldn’t offer any protection, didn’t talk to the neighbor, couldn’t even give the woman any advice, just left. Two weeks later, the neighbor takes her. You understand Jeongguk’s frustration toward the system, but when he’s spent two hours in the gym without any kind of break, you decide to check up on him.

You hear the brutal beating of the punching bag long before you spot him.

“How are you doing? You’ve been in here a while…”

Jeongguk stops and looks at you from behind the sand-filled bag, breathing heavily. He’s shirtless, and there’s sweat covering his skin and wetting his hair.

“I’m alright.”

But you can tell that he’s frustrated by the turmoil in his eyes. Although it’s hot to see him work out, you don’t like seeing him like this. It has an uncomfortable feeling growing in your stomach.

“You’re doing what you can.”

“Yet there’s always more to do. It never ends, and it’s never enough.”

He’s definitely right about that, but does it help to be so worked up about it? Or are you the weird one, more likely to go apathetic when reminded of the injustices of the world these days?

“But you did your part today, and I know you made an impact in their lives.”

He looks disappointedly at the sandbag, as if your words didn’t affect him at all.

“Hey,” you call softly. He looks at you.

“If it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

‘Right now’ as in alive.

“But I–”

“If you never transferred, they would’ve gotten me at this point.”

“Bare minimum,” is all he mumbles.

“It meant a lot to me. Everything, actually. And I’m really grateful.”

At that, he finally smiles a little, and you find yourself dangerously lost in his eyes again.

Thirty minutes later, at nine p.m., the power goes out. You stop what you’re doing, your hand, holding the kettle frozen in mid air over the mug. Even the very, very low humming of the fridge and freezer stops. You put the kettle down, glad that you probably managed to fill your mug with enough tea water.

Where is your roommate? Last you heard, he was about to take a shower. 

“Jeongguk?” you call, but the moment you peek out into the hallway, you run straight into him, still wet from the shower and with a towel around his hips, you think. 

“What happened?” he asks, his hands steadying your elbows.

“Uh? I don’t know? I was pouring tea and the lights and everything went out.”

“Oh? So that means it wasn’t our doing. I’ll check if there’s a blown fuse; you never know.”

“Okay,” you pat the pockets of your sweatpants, “Here’s my phone if you want a flashlight.”

“Thanks,” he nods, grabbing it from your hand.

He taps the screen to turn the flashlight function on, the light pointed down immediately illuminating every little crevice in his abs and the glints of water still on his skin. The white towel hangs low, exposing a bit of a happy trail.

You look away, and Jeongguk, seemingly none the wiser, turns around to find the fuse box somewhere other than in the kitchen, guided by your phone.

Sighing to yourself the moment you’re alone again, you go back to your tea, removing the bag from the mug. Opening the fridge, you’re once again reminded of how dependent on electricity you are when the open door doesn’t trigger the built in light. Still, you find the milk, and you manage to pour a little bit into the mug and put the container back in the still chilly fridge.

By the time you finish stirring the tea spoon around, you hear Jeongguk’s steps approaching you, and you see the ray of light illuminate the floor in front of him.

“No blown fuses. I’m gonna see if there’s anything on the provider’s site or else I’ll give them a call.”

“Are you gonna get dressed as well, or?” you joke, watching him smile cheekily. 

“Yeah. I was just barely done washing my hair when the light went out.”

“I can see that; you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Sorry,” he says and shakes his head like a dog, launching drops of water at your clothes and face. 

 “Jeongguk!”

Laughing, he leaves the kitchen and steps out into the dark.

“What if I slip and fall?” you call after him, wiping the drops from your face before returning to your mug to take a test sip. It tastes good, but you’ll definitely try to remember to buy honey next time you go grocery shopping because you’re a sucker for a little sweetness.

Half a minute later, you hear footsteps approaching, and when you turn around from the sink, Jeongguk is drying the floor with the towel he was just using, now wearing what looks like a pair of sweatpants of his own. He doesn’t say anything, just makes sure the floor is dry and then he leaves again, much to your amusement. Like you said; you’re a sucker for sweetness.

While he’s gone, you use your phone’s flashlight to pour the rest of the water into another mug in case Jeongguk wants some tea too. Then you venture carefully into the living room, trying not to spill the hot contents. It goes without accidents, and so you set the mug down onto the coffee table before reaching for the remote. Which doesn’t work. 

“Fuck, no TV,” you mutter to yourself. And you’ve used your laptop without the charger all day. Even more fuck.

“Jeongguk, is your laptop charged?” you call out, praying to the gods.

“Uh, yeah,” he appears behind you, having matched a black hoodie to his gray sweatpants.

He’s holding something in his arms, a lot of smaller things. Candles, you realize when he leans down to gently dump them onto the table. From his pocket he then produces a lighter.

“You wanna watch something?” he asks, lighting the candles one by one, the coziness factor doubling with every flame added.

“I was gonna watch this documentary, but my laptop isn’t charged,” you pout. “Oh, and also, the Wifi won’t work.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Mine should be fully charged. And we can use my mobile data.”

Wow, way to flex.

“Great. I made tea, do you want some?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

While he goes to grab his laptop, you return to the kitchen to fix his mug of tea as well, returning as he’s setting everything up, the screen illuminating his face where he sits on the couch. The flickering candles are doing their best too, casting a more yellowy glow across the room.

“Thanks,” he says once more when you place the mug in front of him. “Here.” 

You accept the laptop, navigating to the specific streaming site and the documentary released just last week about the development of the space shuttles. Due to the size difference between Jeongguk’s TV and that of his laptop, you take your seat closer to him than usual.

Jeongguk sips his tea, but the moment he’s put the mug back safely on the table and is leaning back against the couch and watching the screen, he slowly lets his hand find yours. 

In turn, you find yourself moving closer, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smells nice, and he feels nice. And it’s suddenly like someone started some kind of wordless game. You don’t say anything, but there’s also a kind of tension that builds, no less in your body. 

Perhaps also feeling the… electricity building, Jeongguk makes his next move, this time slowly lifting his arm to put around you, making you lean against his chest instead. The action has his hoodie riding up just a little, exposing a sliver of his stomach.

When it’s your turn again–and you feel your shared anticipation grow–you try to psych yourself up. He likes you, he likes you. 

So, you place your hand on the exposed section of skin, caressing it carefully with your thumb.

Besides the documentary, it’s quiet, although you’re almost positive Jeongguk can hear your heart beat erratically; it’s definitely beating loudly in your ears. For his next turn, Jeongguk somehow both swiftly and slowly pulls you onto his lap, and before you know it, you’re straddling him, staring down at his smiling face.

The narrator speaks in the background, but you can only focus on Jeongguk and how your heart might soon beat its way out of your chest. 

You could kiss him. You could.

He looks at you like he’s hoping for it but not expecting it, and you pray to God he actually does want you to. Because you want to kiss him so badly. 

He’s got his gentle hands on your thighs, and you place yours softly on his face, holding his jaw and rubbing your thumbs slowly over his cheeks. Until you move one thumb and press it even softer against his lips.

This man is too good to be true, he has to be. As you let your eyes admire him, you think about the fact that, even if you disregard how he literally took a sword to the heart for you, he’s done more for you in the short period of time you’ve known him than any other man in your life.

So you move your finger from his mouth, nervously switching it out for your lips. You can’t even describe how much you like kissing him. When it’s sweet and innocent and just lips and a wordless confession of ‘I like you,’ or when you use a little tongue, and he chooses to follow your lead, kissing you back with the same growing heat. But there’s still something bothering you that you can’t ignore.

In the midst, you pull back an inch, eyes glued to his lips to avoid his eyes. “I like kissing you, but… “

“But what?” he wonders, his hands drawing innocent shapes on your thighs. Your heart pumps even harder as you choose your next words.

“I’m not really your type.”

He smiles, looking carefree, “You are. I think you’re a sweet girl.”

Jeongguk kisses you again, and you try not to think about it, but even with his lips against yours, it’s hard. A sweet girl. Letting one of your hands fall from his face, you grab the collar of his hoodie, clumsily placing your hand inside it to touch his chest, feeling for the scar.

Taking it as you wanting it off, he pulls away to yank the hoodie over his head, and it ends up somewhere toward the end of the couch. Even without it, his bare skin is just as warm under your hands, but before you know it, you’re on your back on the couch, and he’s above you. He’s very sweet, and in this moment–with your hands splayed across his back and the scar there–you know he won’t hurt you. 

A sweet girl.

Right?

A sweet girl. You hear the voices and feel the anxiety and fear return to fill you. You go with the flow, unsure of what to think or do. Jeongguk helps you out of your shirt and then your bra, and you watch him sit back to throw them onto the floor somewhere. 

But the moment he returns his attention to you underneath him, he stops. Because you’re covering your naked chest with your hands like your life depends on it, eyes teary and absolutely and helplessly begging him to look anywhere but at you.

He still does, and you can tell he’s surprised, his wide eyes taking in the situation from above you.

So you plead quietly, “Please don’t look at me.” 

It takes half a second, and he’s immediately closing his eyes, turning to feel around for something behind him. Your shirt probably lies somewhere farther away on the floor, and so his black hoodie is what he ends up grabbing, handing it to you still with his eyes closed.

And he of course moves off of you, the only sounds in the room being the documentary, the slight rustling as you’re putting the hoodie on, and your quiet breaths.

When he assumes you’re dressed, he opens his eyes, heart visibly breaking when he sees how absolutely shaken to the core you look, hugging your body and sitting up. You turn your eyes to the documentary on the screen even though both of you know you haven’t been watching it.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he starts to explain, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, wanting desperately not to make a big deal out of it. If you could just will your hands to stop shaking.

“No, I–”

“Jeongguk, please. I’m fine, okay. I’m not… I’m not ready, but… Can we not talk about it, please?”

Reluctantly, you meet his eyes and see the somber worry in them as he watches you from where he’s sitting, still shirtless.

“Okay. If there’s anything I can do…”

You smile tentatively at him, desperate to move on from the subject, “Watch the rest of the documentary with me?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, “I’ll, uh, go and change so you can get your hoodie back.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Keep it,” he’s quick to rise to his feet, already on his way somewhere–presumably his bedroom.

The forty seconds he’s gone you use to calm your breathing and stabilize your voice. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t going too fast or not listening to you. He listened to what you gave him; you, yourself only figured out where exactly the line was drawn when it was basically already crossed.

He’s wearing a black t-shirt when he returns, taking a seat next to you and focusing his eyes on the screen, probably more so for your sake than his. “I hope you know that you can tell me anything. And I have no certain expectations you have to fulfill or so.”

You already know that he’s not asking sex for rent, if that’s what he’s wondering. But regarding his first statement… there are definitely things you don’t want to talk to him about.

“Yeah,” you answer regardless.

When the credits roll only a few minutes later, you know that you have two options. If you sleep in your own bed like you ideally want to, you risk there being an awkwardness tomorrow and that you definitely don’t want. Or you sleep in his bed with him like you have the last few days, and sure, it might be a little awkward, but he probably realizes you’re not up for cuddling, and it’ll be easier tomorrow.

“Oh. Finally,” Jeongguk exclaims when the ceiling light flickers on, signaling the return of the electricity. “I was starting to worry about all the food in the freezer.”

Subsequently, he leans over the coffee table, blowing out the small candles one after the other. It’s late anyway.

“So, uh…” he rises from the couch, “I’ll keep my door open, but I’m not offended if you choose to sleep in your bedroom.”

“Okay,” you nod at him, watching as he leaves to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

You stand up too, but no matter how much you want to crawl into bed next to him and have him hold you the entire night, you get ready for bed, and you lie down in your own room. You’re still wearing his hoodie because it smells like him, and it ironically brings you comfort. Still, you lie there in the dark, and you think about his face, and his eyes, and his body. His voice, even, and how he might actually be a good guy. Maybe even everything you want, even if it doesn't matter. And you curl up, a few tears running silently down your cheeks. Because Jeon Jeongguk is so very far out of your league, it’s not even funny.

After waking up, you trudge toward the kitchen, still feeling half asleep. After everything that happened yesterday, you still managed to sleep pretty well, most likely because you were exhausted and sleeping alone.

“Morning.”

You stop, hands mid eye-rub. 

“I… thought you’d be at the station?” you say, redirecting your focus to taming your hair. Jeongguk is sitting at the kitchen table, donning a white t-shirt and black, what looks to be cotton, shorts.

“No, I’ll use today to go over some of the potential leads you helped find. Can do that from here.”

He takes a bite of a cupcake, and you catch his eyes linger a second on your body and how a small smile pulls on his lips before he looks into his phone in front of him. Glancing down, you realize that since you didn’t expect him to be home, you didn’t change out of his hoodie so what he saw waddle into the room was you, swallowed by his hoodie, sweater paws rubbing your eyes.

“It, uh, smells good,” you mumble quietly, realizing way too late that it’s not that great of a defense. “But I’ll wash it and you can have it back.”

It smells good because he smells good.

He waves his hand, still looking almost… fond. “It’s okay, keep it as long as you’d like. I have a ton of them.”

“Okay, uh, thank you.”

“No problem.”

At least the awkwardness was for another reason.

You decide to do a bit of laundry, although skipping the black hoodie and hiding it away under your duvet for a little while longer. Doing the laundry, vacuuming most of the house, and emptying the dishwasher takes you almost an hour, and then you find yourself outside Jeongguk’s office, knocking on the open door and peeking inside. 

“Making any progress?”

He lifts his head from the laptop screen and swivels around in his chair to face you, a pen in his hand. 

“No,” he sighs, “I’m looking into the girlfriend angle and so far, we’ve put detectives on a recent ex of Seunghwa’s and on two of Ryung’s flings, but it hasn’t resulted in anything. Regarding Hoseong… I’m not sure I ever actually heard him mention anyone by name, at least not any name that I can seem to match to anyone.”

“What about… I remember him talking about this Jimin?”

“Who’s that? I think we’ve covered most of his friends?”

You search your memory, but it’s hard to remember details. It’s been years since the conversations you try to recall, and as far as you remember, he only mentioned her in passing. “It was a woman, and I think they were more than friends. Or at least she wanted to be.”

“I didn’t even think of that; I only know male Jimins. Tell me more,” he urges, and you can tell he’s trying to recall if there was ever a mention of a Jimin.

“Well, I heard him complain about her a few times; said she was clingy and honestly a little obsessed with him. He made it sound like he didn’t care for her that much. In retrospect–besides being a very red flag–it sounds like something he could’ve said about me when I liked him.”

“Someone who maybe is mostly just a regular woman and would still maybe help them if they’re desperate enough to ask. Or him, at least.”

“Yeah.”

For a few hours, you and Jeongguk work together in his office, and you nearly forget about yesterday’s mishap, trying to find more info on this ‘Jimin.’ Until you find yourself nearly chest to chest with him after turning around too quickly and not expecting him so close. Instead of meeting your eyes sweetly and slowly lowering his head to kiss you like he probably would’ve even yesterday, he smiles and… backs up a few steps. 

“Hey, should we take a break? Have a late lunch?” Jeongguk stretches his arms out in front of him. 

You continue noting down some last names from your phone onto a paper, using the chair Jeongguk wheeled into his office specifically for you as a table while sitting on the floor. “Uh, you go ahead. I had a late breakfast.”

He stands up. “Oh. I didn’t notice.”

“Mhm, you were already in here.”

“I can wait then, and we can eat together.”

“It’s alright; go ahead.”

He mumbles something you don’t quite catch, but he does leave you to your notes and disappears from the office.

For the rest of the day, it’s just as if you’ve taken two or even three steps back. You don’t… touch a lot, and you definitely don’t kiss. A part of you misses it, but another part is relieved that he’s giving you space. He’s still very, very sweet, of course. You didn’t expect anything else.

Like when you open a cupboard, gaze set on a specific mug of his you’ve taken a liking to thanks to the very big ear that prevents the hot tea from burning your hand even through the ceramic. Compared to your male roommate, you’re lacking a little more in the vertical department and for some reason, whoever emptied the dishwasher placed the mug on the top shelf.

You look at it for three seconds, debating on whether you should grab a kitchen chair and climb or simply admit defeat and choose the next best mug. You’re about to go for the latter option when your hero swoops in, wordlessly and casually picking it down for you, a mug of his own raised to his mouth.

“Thank you,” you take the offering from his hand, a smile growing on your lips.

“You’re welcome.”

Or how he’ll still open whatever door you run into for you, to the point that it wouldn’t surprise you if he tried to open the automatic doors and hold them open with his hands when he takes you grocery shopping.

And sometimes, you do touch. Whenever he’s quick enough to exit the driver’s seat and open the passenger door for you, he holds his hand out for you, and when you take it, he helps you out as if you can’t step out of the car on your own. 

When you watch a movie, you don’t sit glued to each other, but he’s not scared to gently pull your feet–which you’ve complained all day of being tired–onto his lap to briefly massage them for you. He smiles at you, all crinkle-cornered sparkly-eyed and dimpled. On two short occasions, he holds your hand carefully, something you don’t object to because it feels nice, it really does.

But despite all these things, you still sleep in your bedroom. You don’t lock the door, but you do sleep alone.

Three days after the incident during the power outage, you’ve worked a long day in Jeongguk’s office. Alone, because he had to leave for the station at nine a.m.. You’ve had a lot of time to think, not only today but ever since what happened–and before that honestly–and it’s become very clear that you need to make a decision. Maybe you should simply gather your courage, give it a shot, and tell him how you feel about him, no matter what happens after?

Despite feeling somewhat determined and having some kind of honestly not very thought out plan, you’re anxious, wandering around the house as you wait for him to return. 

An hour before he comes home, you find yourself in front of the washing machine, throwing the black hoodie into it finally. With the machine on, you head into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of wine. It helps a little, and the remaining nerves that still reside in your chest, you decide to just try to ignore.

The sound of his bike is what notifies you of his return, and you leave the kitchen to meet him in the garage, watching as he swings his leg over the bike and takes the black helmet off, holding it under his arm.

“Hey,” he greets when he sees you waiting, a genuine smile on his face. “How was your day?”

“Uh… good. Narrowed down the Jimins a bit, I think.”

“That’s great,” he grins, his elatedness infecting you too, causing you to smile a little hesitantly despite the nerves devouring you. “Have you eaten yet? I know it’s kinda late but if not; I could cook something?” 

He puts the helmet on one of the shelves that line one of the walls, and then he comes to stand before you. 

You keep your eyes on the jacket with the police emblem on it before you peer up at him. A little hesitantly, you reach for the zipper of his jacket, fiddling a little with it.

“I, uh… actually have something else I want to do. Something I’d like to try… If you’re up for it…”

Tentatively, you reach your hand out, fingers pulling down the zipper of his jacket. He watches you curiously, doing nothing to stop you.

“What is it? That you want to do?” he asks, his warm voice definitely sounding curious but not overly so.

You swallow, deciding to just go for it and slowly placing your arms around his neck, “Well… Do you have any… handcuffs?”

He tilts his head, holding your waist while looking at you, searching. “For me? I do, but we don’t have to do anything; you know that, right?”

“Yeah, but if I really want to? Or maybe you…” you realize that he might just not want to. Like, at all. Oh, how embarrassing.

Seemingly noticing the way you take a step back, lowering your arms from around his neck, he stops you, his hands keeping them there.

“No, no. I’m always willing to let you do whatever you’re comfortable with. I don’t mind.”

His encouragement has a more genuine smile pulling on your mouth.

“Meet me in your bedroom then?” you ask, “And bring the cuffs.”

Not waiting for a confirmation, you drop your hands from his neck, and you turn around to head inside the house. Your heart is pounding, going absolutely haywire while you wait for him on the edge of his bed. Maybe you should’ve worn something else? Something other than just a pair of mom jeans and a blue sweater, but it’s too late now, you guess.

He shows up only a minute later, eyes curiously observing the heavy chair you’ve moved from the corner and into the middle of his room. The first thing he does is unbutton the dark blue shirt of his uniform, sliding it down his arms and throwing it onto the bed. You look at his chest and his arms and his stomach, and you see how he notices. This… humble confidence looks so good on him, and it’s so insanely different from how he acted during the mission. You’ve never seen anyone so attractive. 

The next thing he does is approach you where you’re sitting, offering you his hand all while smiling sweetly… but still a little cheekily.

Placing your hand in his, you’re pulled up to your feet, basically chest to chest with him. There’s heat in his gaze, but it’s not scalding; it’s just warm. 

You give in.

“Kiss me?”

He searches your eyes for hidden answers, but you really do want him to kiss you, and so he does. He places one hand on your lower back, moving your body with him as he steps back and sits down on the chair. Ending up sitting across one of his thighs, you open your eyes when he pulls away just enough to speak.  

“I don’t mind you doing… whatever you want to do, if that’s just sitting on my lap or… exploring me. I’m all for it. Do what you want to do. But,” he says, emphasis on that last word. “Only do what you actually want to.”

You nod, and he reaches down to pull something out of his pocket. The handcuffs. You take them from him, pocketing the small key.

“By the way, how did you get out of the cuffs at the house?” you ask, weighing the metal in your hand.

“I went and got another key before. So I threw you one key and kept the other.” 

You feel your forehead crease as you think about what that means. You were only able to relax when you thought he couldn’t hurt you, but he… could? At any point, he could’ve simply unlocked the cuffs himself?

“I didn’t keep a key because I had ulterior motives or anything. I was just worried you might hurt yourself or pass out for real, like, stop breathing and everything, so I needed a way to get to you if that were to happen.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” you admit quietly. It’s true; the fact that you had multiple pairs of handcuffs with you to the house, and they all use the same universal key entirely slipped your mind. “But of course. How stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t stupid. You were under a lot of stress, and I used that to my advantage, hoping you wouldn’t think about it.”

Standing up, you round the chair to kneel behind it. Without having to be asked, Jeongguk puts his hands back and waits for you to cuff them together.

“So I’m tightening these extra hard and making sure I have all keys,” you joke, still fastening them tight enough for him not to be able to slip them off.

“If that’s what you need to feel comfortable. But I hope you know that I’ll always listen to you.”

You nod, maybe more so to yourself when you stand in front of him again. He looks up at you where he sits, shirtless and looking gorgeous and absolutely mouthwatering.

You bite your lip briefly. “Can I… kiss you?”

“Whatever you want,” he grins, a smile that widens when you sit down on one of his thighs again.

“Okay. Close your eyes?”

Without a word, he obeys your request, and you feel yourself get almost hypnotized, looking at him. You’ve truly never seen anyone so stunning, even to the point that you could sit and gaze at him for hours. The best of mankind but still very much a man. You remember how you used to hate him, thinking God wasted this incredible beauty on someone so ugly, but although you’re not entirely sure how you feel about him, you know you don’t hate him.

Carefully, you trace your fingers along his sharp jaw, and despite his eyelashes fluttering, he doesn’t open his eyes. Unable to help yourself and because you truly don’t think he minds, you allow your gaze to drop. His neck is relatively thick, and the veins are only slightly visible compared to when he’s physically active. Your eyes then land on his collarbones. Then his wide, muscular shoulders and pecs. Then the scar, before traveling across his abs.

“You’re so pretty,” you state quietly, looking up at his face just in time to watch him smirk.

“Pretty is for girls; I’m a man.”

You can’t quite explain the emotional wave that hits you as you come to terms with what you have to do–the decision he’s made for you–but you know that you have to hide it, can’t make a sound of hurt in the silent room. Pressing your lips together, you look around the bedroom before you rise from his thigh.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk asks, still smiling and oblivious, his eyes closed.

Already at the window, you untie the white curtain’s tieback and hold it up. “What about this?”

He opens his eyes and looks at the white piece of fabric in your hand, but doesn’t appear too skeptical. “For what purpose?”

“Blindfold.”

Trying to keep a positive and somewhat fear free mindset, it still hurts when you see how he immediately connects the blindfold to how you shielded your chest from his eyes. There’s pain and there’s guilt swimming in his dark eyes.

“You can, but please don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

“Okay then.”

With his permission, you place the folded sash over his eyes and tie it in the back, careful not to trap any hairs. When you’re done, you take another second to look at him. There is something so irresistible about him, something that has your heart yearning and your body pulled in. He’s so warm, both body and presence. You bite your lip, using your hand to trace his cheek softly while thinking about how he’s so conflicting. What if you want to stay here forever? Curl up like this where he can’t touch you, and lean your head against his neck where he can’t see you?

Like the time when you kissed three days ago, you touch your thumb to his soft lips, and you let the smile and the mask you’ve been wearing fall. Quietly, you stand up, and you take a step back.

“I thought you were going to kiss me?” Jeongguk jokes lightly.

You don’t know what to say, stuck in your footing to the floor and how he can’t see you. It’s like a weight has dropped from your shoulders, but your heart still feels heavy.

“I’m sorry.”

Not picking up the real meaning behind your words, Jeongguk tilts his head. “Okay. It’s alright. Why don’t you uncuff me and we can maybe order dinner instead?”

“I’m leaving tonight.”

“Wait… what?” he straightens up, struggling to process your words, “Why?”

But you go silent again, unsure of exactly how you’ll ever be able to tell him everything. He calls your name, sounding stressed, and you hear how he tugs on the cuffs.

“You scare me.”

He stops, and you can tell by the way he seems to almost be holding his breath that it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear.

“I… I understand that you’ve been through a lot, but I’m never going to hurt you.”

You keep your eyes on him, feeling like he, himself most likely believes what he’s saying. But it’s not that easy.

“I know… that all in all, you’re a good man. You want to help me and others, and I know you said that not even when you thought I was the most selfish person in the world would you be able to hurt me physically. But you had no problem hurting me in other ways.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry for what I did. I’ve apologized for that, and I’ll keep doing it.”

“I don’t know how to read you,” you add, disregarding what he said because he has apologized, but not in the way that you needed. Not in a way that really matters to you. If this man hasn’t had you broken in a thousand pieces and still insisted on stepping on the remains.

So you keep going. “You look sweet–you’ve been sweet, but you look just like him. Hoseong was sweet too, until he wasn’t. And you… you have this desire to hurt, you want to inflict pain on those who wrong you or who you think have done you wrong. What happens if you think I’ve done something you don’t agree with?”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions without talking to you, I’m not making the same mistake again–”

“What if I actually do something you don’t like?”

For a few seconds, he goes quiet. “I’m not going to hurt you ever again, I promise.”

You fiddle with your hands, glancing down at them. “Are you sure? It was so easy for you, using all my weaknesses against me and breaking me down without ever asking me for my side of the story. And it scares me how you, during the mission, showed just how easy it was for you to one moment act like you could stand me–looking just as sweet as you do now–then angrily tear me down the next.”

It hurts in your whole body but the worst pain originates from your chest. You feel small, insignificant, but also like you take up too much room.

“I know that you probably don’t want to hurt me physically, and that you’re a better man than most, and at first when we came back, it wasn’t too difficult to ignore what you…. think of me, but now…? I kissed you, and you kissed me back, and it just… everything is coming back. I’ve been trying to tell myself that you wouldn’t hurt me at all anymore and that maybe you even like me like I like you, but I know that you don’t. Which in turn makes it hard to know why you’re doing all of this. I think maybe you feel guilty or want to be nice? Give me a chance even though I’m not your… type. But I… I like you. I really, really like you.”

It’s easier to admit than you originally thought, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I want to look at you every second of the day and my hands absolutely yearn to touch you all over. But I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want you to look at me. I don’t want to be perceived at all. I know that if I stay here and show myself to you, you will not like what you see. You will be disappointed.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, not straining against the cuffs anymore but taking on a calmer approach. “It’s not true. I really do like you, and I think you’re really pretty. Please, I apologized for the things I said, and I’ll do it again. I’m really sorry; I just said those things because I wanted to hurt you. “

“You did. You hurt me, and I’m hurt. You apologized for wanting to hurt me, but you’ve never impli–actually, It doesn’t matter. I know what I look like, it’s kinda hard to forget when you’re constantly reminded. You and your friends came for every single flaw of mine, Jeongguk. “

“I only continued because you never seemed fazed by it.”

“‘I never seemed–’”, you stop to chuckle in disbelief. Your eyes are tearing up as you recall the moments you’re about to remind him of. 

“Are you saying that you never noticed that I stopped eating lunch at the cafeteria after what you did? Hoseong said that maybe someone would actually like me if I ‘ate less,’ and you laughed like it was the funniest thing you’d ever heard. That was the day after you walked past me in the cafeteria, saying ‘leave some for the rest of us, why don’t you?’ Jihyo brought cookies for her birthday two weeks later, and you suggested–in front of everyone–that maybe I should do something else with my mouth besides eat. I criticized the fact that no male officer wanted to work on ‘low-rewarding’ cases like my trafficking case, and you… Do you remember what you said?”

Your eyes are already blurry with silent tears, and you feel the humiliation drown you. There’s no way to go, nowhere to hide. People like Jeongguk are watching, inspecting and observing every little part of you. Your bottom lip trembles.

Jeongguk is silent. If he could see, he’d be looking at your feet. You were right to blindfold him because you would’ve never been able to speak so earnestly had you not. Although you like him, and he’s been so kind and sweet to you, you’re back to feeling like nothing in his eyes.

“‘It’s not about the case; it’s about you. You couldn’t pay me to even look at you. In fact, I bet not even the traffickers would take you, otherwise we would’ve definitely traded you.’”

The pain radiates from your chest, leaving no cell of your body unaffected at the implications. You are so ugly and disgusting to him that if he had the chance, he would’ve sacrificed you to a fate no one should ever have to face. 

He doesn’t give you a reaction now either; he just sits there with his head lowered. But this is your one chance to tell him how you really feel. You take a big, shaky breath.

“I was doing okay before all of this. Sure, I’ve always known that I have a lot of flaws, but I was doing okay. But you’ve said over and over again that I disgust you, my body makes you want to hurl, you wouldn’t fuck me if your life depended on it, etcetera. It takes its toll. Eating around men gives me anxiety, even if I try to hide it. I cover up my… shoulders as much as I can because I can hear you describe them as ‘manly,’ and how every man within earshot chuckles. 

“I wear thick bras and tops, especially around you, because you made it a habit to comment on my breasts and how unfortunately shaped and sized they are. I remember how you asked me how on earth I ever expected Hoseong to like me when I had the ‘saggiest tits in the district.’ And I remember the field day you had when you found out they’re a bit uneven, finding a way to lower your rating of me from a 0.5 out of 10 to a 0.1. Then you asked the other men for their opinion and rating. Or how you’ve so kindly informed me that I didn’t have the tits for that pretty, blue dress and that it looked awful on me. Are you saying that you didn’t notice that whatever you’ve commented on, I’ve never worn again? Not even anything similar?

“I don’t wear tighter pants without a longer shirt to cover my ‘misshapen,’ ‘unfeminine’ hips and the ‘weird dips’ you’ve laughed at, and whenever work dress codes require me to, I’ve avoided you and other men the best I could.

“I wore a skirt to work once, and when I ran into you before changing into my uniform, you said that skirts are for pretty girls and that no one wanted to see my… cellulite. You took every chance to remind me that I have myself to blame for being undesirable, and that men weren’t the problem, I am, and ‘how wasn’t I ashamed for thinking someone like Hoseong could ever like me?’

"Believe me, I was ashamed. I am ashamed. Do you think I never considered just… drinking the poisoned coffee? Or just starting the car even though I knew the brakes wouldn’t work? If there was a way to get rid of one’s body, believe me, I would’ve. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know what he did to me at the time because how I looked never changed. But looking like you do, I get that you don’t understand how it is to walk around, filled with shame for existing in such an unfortunate body, but I can tell that you want to be better. Maybe you feel bad and want to give me a free trial of how it is to be with a Good Man. Or you want to do the ‘right thing’ so that your dad would be proud? I don’t know, but I can’t ignore the fact that I know how you really perceive me and how you are so far out of my league, it’s embarrassing to even stand here and say it.

"So while I appreciate everything you’ve done for me cause I’d be dead and gone without you, I can’t stay here. You want someone to hold hands with and to buy flowers for, but that’s not for people like me.”

Finally done, you wipe the tears that fall, and you shakily swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat.

“Take the blindfold off and uncuff me,” he begs, once again straining against the handcuffs. You know he isn’t getting out of them, and while he could stand up, the chair is too heavy for him to just pull along with him when he’s got the blindfold on and no sight. He knows, just as well as you, that there’s no use.

“No.”

“Then listen to me; none of that was true. You are so pretty, so breathtaking. I like you so much.”

“Forgive me for not believing you. If you really thought I was even remotely pretty, there have been countless opportunities for you to say so. Or even just a ‘hey, you know you’re not actually as revolting as I told you.’”

“I… I didn’t want to overwhelm you or have you doubt my intentions, but I’m telling you now that I’ve always thought you to be beautiful.”

You scoff sadly. “Yeah, now when the consequences of your actions have arrived,” you glance down at your feet, feeling so insignificant. 

“Please don’t leave.”

“I’ve already packed my stuff.”

“Where are you going? You can’t go home; it isn’t safe there.”

Truly, at this moment, your safety doesn’t seem like your top priority. “I’ll be careful.”

“Can’t you stay with someone, at least?” he bargains, “Jihyo or Sana?”

Another tear falls, and your voice goes quiet. “I want to go home.”

You really do. You haven't been home in months, and you feel like a child sleeping over at a friend's, missing your mom so much it hurts and just wishing she'd come and pick you up.

“I know, but you just gotta hold out a little bit longer. Call Jihyo, please. Do you want me to watch your house twenty-four seven, cause I will.”

You consider his words, and if there’s anything you don’t want, it’s to have him so close again. “Fine. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah…”

With nothing really left to say, you pull your phone out of your pocket, opening the Uber app.

“I’ll uncuff you in a few minutes, I’m just ordering an Uber.”

Luckily, a car is only three minutes away, and so with quick fingers you confirm it. You packed your stuff three hours ago in case this would be the outcome, something you’re very grateful for now. Maybe, maybe, if he had said something, you would’ve kissed him and decided to stay, hoping that he was being honest. But you know that you might be a sweet girl to him, but you're not a pretty girl.

A minute passes, and you sigh sadly. “Okay, I’m gonna open the handcuffs, but I’m begging you, Jeongguk, stay there until I’m gone, okay? Don’t remove the blindfold, please?”

It’s his turn to seemingly consider what you’re saying. What you did, agreeing to call Jihyo, was for him and respecting his wishes. So he has to respect yours. He can’t rip off the blindfold the moment you twist the key in the cuffs and try to persuade you to stay, no matter if he wants to. 

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You decide to trust him, and with the key belonging to the cuffs, you round the chair where he’s sitting. Kneeling like before, you manage to unlock one of the cuffs in two seconds, and the metal clinks as it falls off his wrist. Instead of freeing his other wrist as well, you grasp his free hand and put the key into his palm, closing his fist around it.

Though you shouldn’t have expected him to be entirely quiet and still, because while he doesn’t make any move to rise from the chair or remove the blindfold, he does swiftly grab your hand, holding it firmly. Despite being blindfolded, it definitely feels like he’s staring straight at you behind him.

“Don’t believe anything any of us said, please. You really are so gorgeous, and not only that but you’re incredibly smart and hard-working. You’re amazing, and I will regret what I did to you for the rest of my life.”

But you hurt so much on the inside that you don’t say anything to that, you just pull your hand out of his grasp.

<previous | next>

author's note: so.... anyway, uh... like, comment, and subscribe <333

[teapartyprincess4two]

Y/n and Matt get closer when it's just them 2 in the house, and i was thinking Fluff and Smut like a lot of Smut. Maybe Matt is a virgin but Y/n aint so she teaches him???

End of the World- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x Matt

classification: Zombie Apocalypse AU, smut, fluff, angst/sad (kinda? Idk it’s a mix of everything)

inspiration: request^^

warnings: 18+, MDNI, set in modern day, use of y/n, literal sex, slight cursing, zombies & general apocalypse stuff (death, lnives, guns, killing, blood, hunger, dehydration, etc.), kinda long

summary: No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.

—

If anyone would’ve told you two years ago that you’d be huddled around the hood of a car, staring down at a worn out map, covered in blood, you would’ve called them crazy.

Two years ago your life was convenient. Now? Now life was simple, all you had to do was survive. All the things you wished would disappear; homework, bills, work, none of them mattered anymore. But they were easily replaced with an even greater burden, a zombie apocalypse and the end of the world.

Two years ago you wouldn’t have had even a spec of dirt under your fingernails, yet here you stand covered in blood that isn’t yours, weeks worth of dirt and grime, and sweat dripping down your forehead. Your hair is pulled back into a ponytail, exposing your shoulders to the harsh Texas heat and further working towards dehydrating you.

Two years ago you wouldn’t so much as hurt a fly. Now you wouldn’t think twice before pulling the trigger if it meant you had a chance at survival.

Two years ago you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal was coming from or if your bedroom was secure enough to sleep in. But the world has changed and so have you.

It’s been months since anyone in your group has had a good nights rest or a warm meal. All you’ve done is run from anything that threatens to harm you. Although you’ve all managed to set up a temporary moderately safe camp within the woods, it’s been difficult to stretch resources that are already scarce.

Food, water, clothing. These are all things that you wish you didn’t need. Why? Because leaving camp to retrieve them is dangerous. But, it’s been 2 days since your last run, and canned goods can only last so long, especially when there’s mouths to feed.

Chris uses his knife to point to an unmarked location on the map, “Nick and I will head south. I saw an old water tower in that direction when we passed through, maybe there’s a town nearby.” He uses the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead before returning it back to the map, tracing the blade up a road.

“Matt and Y/n, you two try looking in this area. We haven’t checked there yet and if we’re lucky it hasn’t been completely ransacked. You might find something…” Chris pauses, taking a look at the group of people not far behind. They’re chatting, all of them wearing exhausted expression and filthy clothes. “…something to get the group through the next couple of days. We can’t stay here anymore, place is crawling with infected.”

Chris became the leader of your group easily. He had a great way of talking to people, of showing them that even though the world was ending, the glass was still half full.

“You want us to split up?” Nick whisper shouts, a clear alarm evident in his tone. “Remember what happened last time? We lost a third of the group!” Nick flails his arms in desperation, almost like he’s willing Chris to realize the stupidity of his actions.

Nick was reasonable and smart, but too kind for his own good. If he wanted to, he could’ve become the leader of your group and done just as good of a job as Chris, but Nick was too empathic to take on that responsibility. He felt the needs of the group and often was led more by emotion than by reason or logic.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Chris bites back.

You stand next to Matt, watching the argument unfold. This was typical for Nick and Chris, but it stressed you out every time.

“If we had more people, we wouldn’t have to split up. But we’re low on supplies and can’t wait around for food to magically appear,” Chris says.

“If we hadn’t split up the first time, we’d have more people,” Nick snarks, storming away. Chris groans, running his hand through his hair. This was much more responsibility than he could handle, but as the youngest, strongest members of your group it was up to you all to pull the heaviest weight.

“We’ll be fine. Y/n and I are always careful,” Matt finally chimes in, placing a firm hand on Chris’s shoulder to ease any tension. “Besides, that part of town is pretty deep into the woods. I doubt any infected will be lurking and if they are, Y/n’s good with a gun and I’m fast.”

“I’m fast too,” you chuckle, knowing that Matt is trying to make light of a dark situation.

“True. I just gotta be faster,” he replies, sending you a cheeky wink. You laugh, earning a small round of laughter from Chris and Matt in return.

Chris visibly relaxes, grateful that at least one of his brothers isn’t giving him a hard time. But truth be told, Matt didn’t agree with Chris’s plan, he was just smart enough to keep it to himself. He knew that doubt created fear, and once fear infected you, you were as good as dead.

That’s what Matt was good at, being quiet. It came in handy on runs like this, especially because he was so quick on his feet. It’s your favorite characteristic of his, he’s a good listener, he’s observant, and you know that you’ll be safe as long as Matt is with you.

“Alright. Let’s head out, we’re gonna lose the light,” Chris instructs, jogging in the opposite direction of the camp to begin loading up a few trucks with guns and ammo.

“You two can take the car.”

Matt mulls the idea over. A car would be faster, but definitely much louder. Noise attracts anything looking for its next meal, especially the infected, and with only you to cover him he’s not sure he’s willing to take that risk.

“Nah. We’re walking. The town’s not too far, we’ll make it back by tomorrow morning the latest,” Matt replies, tossing a rifle in your direction. You’re quick to catch it and just as quick to respond, “Are you sure? A car would get us there and back before dinner.”

He understands your concern, but he can’t risk losing you, not after all the losses he’s already suffered. “Just trust me,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes being enough to calm your nerves.

“Whatever you have to do, Matt. Just come back,” Chris says, slamming the trunk shut.

—

Leaves and dry grass crunch under your feet with every step. It’s late summer and the Texas heat has managed to kill everything left alive that wasn’t infected.

You’ve been walking for two hours, only running into a few infected on the way, managing to take them out with nothing but your blade. Matt hates using guns, in fact you’ve only seen him use them on very rare and necessary occasions. You never understood his apprehension, I mean it’s the end of the world for Christ’s sake, but you’ve never questioned him.

“Heads up,” Matt whispers, nodding his head in the direction of a gas station.

You follow his gaze. It seemed like an easy place to loot. Apart from the few rotted corpses that roamed the exterior, only parked cars litter the parking lot, most of them still connected to the gas pumps.

“We’ll go in through the back. There’s got to be dry storage there,” Matt says, crouching and leading you towards the back of the building. You hum in response, readying yourself with your weapon and following closely behind.

Your scent must carry because as soon as you’re within 10 feet of the infected, their attention is drawn to you. Their arms are limp at their sides and their walk is more of a stagger, but it always manages to get your blood pumping.

“Hurry!” Matt whisper shouts, reaching behind him for your hand. Soon he’s pulling you into the building, shutting it securely behind you and bringing his pointer finger up to his lips to instruct you to keep quiet.

“I’ll go left. You go right,” you mouth, beginning to walk the aisles of the store while ensuring to keep your back to the wall. Matt nods, perusing the aisles as best he can while his life is in immediate danger.

Infected bite and claw at the glass windows, snarling as they watch you and Matt like prey. Sometimes you wondered what their life was like before they were bit, but the second one is close enough to harm you, all sympathy leaves and you don’t think twice before unloading the clip.

When you’re sure the building is secure you put your knife away and grab a shopping basket, securing it in the pit of your elbow as you load it with as many supplies as you can. Chips, jerky, candy, canned food, oil, rags, water, any and everything you two can carry is being thrown into these baskets.

“How are gonna get all of this back?” You ask Matt, noticing the even greater pile he’s accumulated. He scratches his head, taking a look around for something that’ll help lighten the load.

From the corner of his eye he spots a few duffel bags. Matt grabs a few and motions for you to begin packing them with as much as possible. “If they get too heavy I’ll carry them.”

“Bet you wish we had a car now,” you chuckle, neatly organizing the duffel bags.

“Not when those things are staring back at me,” Matt says, shuddering as he looks behind his shoulder to see the group of infected that have pooled at the entrance of the building.

—

You’re carrying two duffel bags full of supplies, one weighing on either one of your shoulders. Matt’s holding three, two rest on his shoulders and he’s carrying the other in his hand. He holds the straps so tight that his knuckles have managed to turn white.

The both of you are exhausted from the strength you’re using to carry this supplies back to your camp, from the long trek up-hill, and the energy you exerted to take out at least a dozen infected.

You stumble on a rock, the weight on your shoulders making it difficult for you to fix your footing. “Hey, you okay?” Matt asks, examining you with his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” you wheeze, hunching over and supporting yourself with your hands on your knees.

Matt’s tired too, of course he is, but it’s not like you two can set up camp in the middle of nowhere while surrounded by infected. He remembers seeing a few houses further up the road, it’s not a long walk and if you can make it, you’ll be able to rest there until morning.

“C’mon I think I saw a neighborhood, just push through a little longer. We’ll rest there for tonight and pick back up in the morning, okay?”

He waits for you to catch your breath, rubbing your back and comforting you, but never once letting his guard down in case something gets a jump on him.

You take a deep breath, straightening up and adjusting the duffel bag’s straps on your shoulders.

“Okay.”

—

The walk to the neighborhood was much longer than you thought, and you were starting to wonder if you were lost.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

Matt looks at you from behind his shoulder, subtly rolling his eyes before averting his gaze forward again. “You wanna lead the way, princess?”

The nickname makes you chuckle, mostly because you knew Matt used it when his mood was starting to sour and that only ever happened when he was hungry or tired. By the looks of it, he was starting to become both.

A small town comes into view just as you’re about to reply. It looks like you’ve stumbled across the Main Street, and as packed as it is with abandoned businesses and stores, a residential home is nowhere to be seen. “Didn’t I tell you I saw a town,” Matt snarks, a hint of sass laced in his tone.

You hum. “No. You said you saw a neighborhood. There isn’t a house anywhere to be seen. We might as well season ourselves for the damn infected to eat.”

A twig snaps in the distance. Your voices, although relatively quiet, have already worked towards alerting the undead of your presence.

“Shut up,” Matt grits, pulling you close to his body. You know better than to argue, instead pressing your back against his and unsheathing your knife.

Snarling and growling echoes through the town, bouncing off the buildings and making it difficult for you to pinpoint exactly what direction they’re coming from. That doesn’t stop Matt though, instead he uses the hand that isn’t holding a knife to grab your arm.

“Stay close,” he mouths, so inaudible that you almost don’t catch it. You nod your head, taking a fleeting look at your surroundings before following Matt through a back alley between a cafe and a gym (or what used to be a cafe and a gym).

The alley is a dead end, fenced off at the end with nothing but hungry zombies reaching through the metal rods in attempt to grab you. The old you would’ve screamed and cried for help, but you’ve learned to suppress your fear in order to survive.

You take a firm hold of your knife, stabbing it into the head of as many infected as you can. Quiet grunts emit from you and Matt as you clear the path, watching undead body after body hit the ground. For a second you feel sad, but only for a second. You don’t have time for trivial things such as emotions anymore, especially not when a trail of flesh eating monsters follows closely behind.

“Through here. C’mon,” Matt ushers, opening a door that leads into a gym. Although it’s safer than being stranded outside, the brick walls can only protect you for so long. You do a quick sweep of the room, looking for anything useful while also ensuring there aren’t any hidden surprises.

Once you’re sure it’s safe, you motion for Matt to follow you with a head tilt. He locks the door behind him, barricading it with an old elliptical before following you into the next room.

You enter a changing room, lined with showers and lockers that were sure to have at least one fresh pair of clothes. You set the heavy bags you’ve been carrying down, sighing with relief as you stretch your shoulders. Matt does the same, joining you in rummaging through the lockers for a new, clean shirt.

A lot of the clothes is tucked away in backpacks, most of it being unflattering male clothing, but you weren’t big on fashion nowadays. “Here. Found this for you,” Matt says, tossing a white tank top your way. You hold it up in the light, “Cute. Thanks.”

You’re about to change your shirt, without any real warning for Matt, so he quickly looks away and fixes his gaze on the shower heads and tiled walls. His hands fiddled with an unopened bar of soap he found in one of the lockers. Matt doesn’t know why he grabbed it, it’s not like he had access to running water, but a man could dream.

“I wonder if the showers work,” he thinks out loud.

You stand behind him, wearing only your bra and underwear as you wonder the same thing. God knows you could both use a shower right now. “Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head in wonder.

“Only one way to find out,” you shrug, pushing past Matt and sauntering over to the knob. You twist it quickly, patiently waiting for even a single drop of water.

Nothing, just groaning pipes and a slap in the face for naivety.

“Guess they don’t,” you say, standing under the shower head and looking at Matt with a sad smile. He chuckles, and just as he’s about to give up too, hot water spurts out abruptly, hitting the back of your head and running down your spine.

“Holy shit that’s hot!” You gasp. In all the excitement, Matt forgets how inappropriate it would be to join you in the shower under regular circumstances, and throws his clothes off. You’ve somehow already managed to remove your remaining clothing and have started scrubbing at your skin with your bare hands, letting the water run down your face.

“Matt! Hurry before it runs out!” You say, waving your hand behind you blindly. He doesn’t skip a beat, joining you under the shower head and letting it relax his sore, aching muscles. The water draws an audible groan from his lips, bringing you back to reality. You were naked and taking a shower with Matt, someone who was a stranger to you before the end of the world.

Suddenly, he remembers the bar of soap still in his hands and he accidentally takes in your naked figure as he opens it. His dick immediately rises, a clear indicator that he’s enjoying the view.

“Turn around,” he instructs, running the soap under the water and lathering his hands up. You do as your told, immediately feeling his fingers tangle themselves in your hair as he massages your scalp. It wasn’t necessarily an in depth hair wash routine, but it would suffice for now.

Soon, you’re turning around and rinsing the soap from your hair before reaching for the bar and instructing Matt to do the same.

“Here lemme get you now.” You shuffle behind him, tip toeing to reach better. Although it was odd and unexpected, you were glad to be sharing this moment with Matt.

The rest of the shower is silent as you and Matt bask in the warm water that runs down your bruised and battered bodies. You try keeping your limbs to yourselves, save for the brief moments Matt’s erect member brushes against your thigh or butt, but it’s hard when there’s only one shower head. You want to say something, mostly because you’ve had a crush on Matt from the moment you met him and his group, but you don’t. This isn’t about pleasure, not in this world at least. It’s about survival and the second you forget that, you get hurt.

“Haven’t felt that clean in years,” Matt chuckles, shoving a shirt over his head. The shower seems to have brought his spirits up, providing both of you with a new surge of energy. Little things like running water meant so much more now, especially when you’re trudging through highly forested areas and fighting for you life on the daily.

As you’re about to reply, a loud bang echoes through the locker room, followed by the sound of shuffling in your direction. You’re putting your pants on, buckling them quickly as you try to keep quiet. Your eyes are wide in fear and anticipation, watching Matt for a signal on what to do next.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing the duffel bags from before and darting his eyes towards the exit. Your gun, which you hadn’t used at all today, rests in your hand. Matt holds his as well. He’s on guard, raising the weapon close to his face as he inspects the area.

You follow behind him trying to keep as quiet as possible, fully expecting him to shoot whatever lurks behind the wall. But, as you near the exit, you see it.

Tense shoulders relax, lowering your weapon and sheathing it back into your belt. A squirrel sits on the cement floor, grooming itself and chittering away. You want to approach it, maybe even pet it, but Matt stops you with a hand to your chest.

Unlike you, he’d inspected the entirety of the situation and didn’t let himself become distracted by the first cute animal that crossed his path. After recognizing that it was a squirrel, he wondered what could’ve lead it into the building in the first place, causing him to check the window it entered through. A reanimated corpse stood right outside the window, dragging its feet as it paced back and forth in search of the fluffy animal.

“Let’s go. We’re done here,” Matt ordered, pulling you back towards the exit. And just like that, you were off to find somewhere to sleep, leaving the fluffy animal to fend for itself.

“Bye little guy.”

—

“Forgot how quiet and boring the world is,” you huff, slumping down onto the worn out mattress. Whatever energy the shower provided you was now long gone. You and Matt walked for another hour before finding the initial neighborhood you were searching for. And, after that, you spent another hour finding the perfect house and clearing all its rooms.

“Quiet’s nice,” Matt replies with a soft groan, joining you on the mattress. It sinks with his weight, the coils creaking as he becomes comfortable.

“You’re just saying that cause you want me to shut up so you can fall asleep.” You kick your shoes off and unbuckle your belt, letting it fall to floor with a soft thud. A smile tugs at Matt’s lips. “Right now yes. But in general, quiet’s good. Means we’re safe,” he replies, toeing his own shoes off.

Matt shuts his eyes, fluffing the pillow under his head and willing himself to finally get a full nights rest. This house is safe. He secured all the rooms, barricaded the doors, and his weapon is on standby. He can finally rest and relax. But, of course, your mind begins to wander and when your mind wanders, your words follow. “Guess you’re right… But quiet also means you’re not learning anything about the people you care about.”

A deep breath causes Matt’s chest to rise and fall. He doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be all philosophical at the end of the world. Nonetheless, he responds, “I know you, Y/n. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a kind person, and I know you have my back. I also know you’re annoying, but I trust you and I learned all that from watching. Sometimes you just have to watch people. In quiet. Can we sleep now?” He turns onto his side facing away from you in hopes that you’ll drop the topic and fall asleep.

You stare at his back. “Those are all things you learned about me now. I was nothing like this back then.”

Matt takes another deep breath. It’s obvious you’re in the mood to talk, maybe because you finally feel safe enough to keep your voice anything above a whisper, so he decides just to give in and turn your monologue into actual dialogue.

“Back then?” He asks. Matt shuffles on the mattress, now staring at the ceiling as your eyes remain on him. “Yeah, before everything went to shit. Before the end of the stupid fucking world when the little things used to matter. You know, like first kisses and picking the perfect outfit for a date with a cute guy.”

Matt picks at his fingernails, listening to every word that escapes your lips. When you put it that way, he really didn’t know anything about you. “Okay, so tell me about yourself then. Pretend like we’re not in a strangers house, in a strangers room, on a strangers bed, and tell me all about Y/n… Before the ‘end of the stupid fucking world.’”

You chuckle, preparing yourself for the vulnerability you’re about to put on full display, but now that he’s put you on the spot it’s much harder than you thought.

“Okay so… you already know my name. Hmm. My favorite color is pink?”

Matt scoffs. “That’s the real you? C’mon, you can’t go on this whole tangent about how you were different before and then say THAT.”

“Fine fine.” You think for a second. “I was a waitress at a hotel bar. Mixing drinks was easy, the customers were nice, my coworkers made the job tolerable. Mostly only worked weekends because I was at school during the week… I went to UCLA. Go Bruins!,” you let out a breathy laugh, “My siblings were going to visit me that weekend, the weekend it all happened. They had planned the trip for a long time and finally were gonna make the drive.”

Your mind goes to a dark place, the only thing anchoring you being the hand that Matt places on yours. You clear your throat before continuing, “I had a small off campus apartment. Cleared the living room out and everything for them. Even deep cleaned.” Matt squeezes your hand.

“College was fun while it lasted. My parents worked really hard to send me off. They threw me a going away party and everything, even dressed up my dog as the school mascot,” a small pause as you recollect your thoughts, “I had a puppy named Pig. Well he wasn’t a puppy, more like an old fart, but the name suited him. Named him after my favorite animal and because he had the pinkest nose when he first adopted him.”

You feel yourself becoming increasingly sad as you reminisce on what once was. “You know what? Maybe quiet is nice,” you laugh solemnly, wiping the tears that are rolling down your face.

Matt offers you a warm smile, thinking of something, anything, to get you to smile again. But he can’t help it, he’s curious, and since you’re already on the topic he wants to pry further into your personal life. “What were you going to school for?”

“Engineering. I’m shit with numbers, but I was pretty undecided so my parents just chose for me. Brandon would help me a lot. He was really smart… really sweet… But enough about me, tell me about you. Who was Matt before all this?”

Matt ignores your question, instead posing one of his own. “Who’s Brandon? Was he your boyfriend?” He cringes slightly, both at his boldness and at his lack of awareness of your vulernable, emotional state, but his curiosity keeps getting the best of him.

You snort. “Brandon? God no. He was my best friend, sure, but I was definitely not his type. Plus, I never had time for anything serious. I made time for the fun stuff, but never the commitment.” Matt couldn’t hide the relief on his face even he tried. A relationship status meant nothing during a zombie apocalypse, yet he found himself relieved to know that your heart didn’t belong to another.

“I’m sure you had girls swarming you,” you continue jokingly, poking Matt’s sides with a teasing edge. He makes a noise, something between a groan and chuckle as he runs his hands down his face.

“I take that as a yes?”

He hums, remembering the short lived internet fame he shared with his triplet brothers before shit hit the fan. “Some would say that. If you consider subscribers and followers as swarming girls.”

You visibly cringe, “Oh God. Were you one of those thirst trappers? Bet you went to influencer parties and vlogged your morning routine.” Matt laughs loudly, a genuine laugh, one of the few you’ve heard from him since you met.

“Rent was due, okay?” He replies between laughter. Soon you’re both laughing, bodies clumsily bumping as you clutch your stomach and wipe away tears. Your bodies are impossibly close, closer than they should be on a queen sized mattress, and you only notice it once your laughter dies down.

Your eyes have locked with his and your noses even manage to graze. Neither of you make an effort to look away or even to apologize for invading the other’s space. Instead, you do the unthinkable, the one thing you didn’t allow yourself to even think about doing even when he was naked in front of you earlier. You kiss him. You lean forward and close the gap, moulding your lips onto his.

Matt doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the kiss. His hands find a comfortable resting place on your upper thigh and lower back, using the little energy left in his body to pull you closer. One of your hands lays on his chest while the other gently weaves its way through his hair.

The kiss is sweet and innocent, and it could’ve been over by now, but because you’re both so touch starved you separate for air and dive right back in. You moan against his lips, caressing the side of his face your thumb before moving so you’re cradling his waist. Subconsciously, as if on instinct, you grind down onto him, wanting to feel and explore him further.

Matt wants to go further, and he knows you know it too, especially with the display he put on earlier in the shower, but he’s a virgin who’s afraid to disappoint. So, he pulls away from the kiss and holds your hips in place with strong hands.

“I— Give me a second,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes shut and gulping so hard his adam’s apple bobs up and down. Matt’s mind is racing, every possible outcome for this situation playing through his mind.

You sense his apprehension, plus it’s written all over his face. You never want to push his boundaries or make him uncomfortable. So, you do the only thing you can think to do. Quickly, you shuffle off of him and off the bed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought— today in the shower— I’ll sleep downstairs on the couch.”

You begin to gather your things, leaving Matt dumbstruck as he stares between you and his raging erection. If he didn’t speak up now, you were going to get the wrong idea and he’d miss his chance at a shot with you. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

“Wait.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, gently pulling you back down onto the mattress.

Matt prepares himself for the vulnerability he’s about to display. He’s nervous, embarrassed, scared, and to top it off you’re the hottest girl he’s ever seen. And it’s not just because you’re the only one left either.

“I’m a virgin.”

Your eyes blow open in shock. “But earlier you said about the? I just thought?” He laughs at your inability to form a coherent sentence, but he gets the gist.

“It was hard to trust people when I was famous, especially girls. I never knew if they truly liked me or just wanted to have my name associated with them for the clout. But it’s different now, I know I can trust you. We took a shower together without making it weird after scavenging through old worn out clothes to find something slightly newer than what we had. You’re covered in the blood of monsters we killed to keep each other safe. You’re here with me when I have nothing permanent or safe to offer.” Matt pulls you back onto his lap, sitting up against the bed frame so your torsos are parallel.

“I should’ve said this a long time ago, but it’s hard to find the time when you’re fighting for your life on the daily… I care about you, Y/n. A lot. I’m not sure what to call it yet, but I care about you and I trust you. I trust you enough to do this.” You’re touched by his words, feeling their effect on your heartstrings and your throbbing core.

“I trust you too, Matt. So much more than you’ll ever know.” In that moment those words felt more real than an ‘i love you’ ever could. Matt leans forwards and kisses you, holding you by the neck. This kiss is different than the one from before, it’s needier and laced with lust.

His hands travel towards your tank top, tugging until he successfully untucks the fabric. You pull away from the kiss and lift your arms, allowing Matt to remove your shirt in one swift motion. The smile on his face as you slowly begin roaming your hands all over his body is genuine, filled with admiration, love and lust.

Your fingers beginning slipping his flannel over his shoulders, your mouth falling down to his broad shoulders to pepper kisses on the skin there. Soon, you’re both removing the rest of your clothes and Matt’s excitement has him flipping you over on the old, worn mattress. He gawks at the sight beneath him. You lay there completely exposed with only the soft moonlight that trickles in through the blinds to illuminate your body. Matt takes it all in, relishing in your beauty like it’s the last time, because in this world it very well might be.

A gentle hand trails from his stomach down to his penis, tracing the outside of his cock and watching intently at the way Matt’s eyes screw shut in concentration. It’s been so long since he’s touched himself and the sight of you alone is enough for him to combust, but he pulls himself together. You trace your thumb over the slit, coating his member with the natural lubrication that’s already spilling out before dragging his cock along your folds. Matt’s breath hitches at the new sensation, you already feel so warm and soft, he doesn’t know how he’s meant to last even one second once he’s actually inside you.

“We can stop if you want to.” Matt gulps, shaking his head feverishly. He doesn’t want this to stop, he’d never want this to stop, even if it hasn’t even really started yet. “No,” his voice is choked, “don’t stop.”

Your lip is caught between your teeth as you continue to guide the tip to your entrance, finally unwrapping your fingers from around him and instead wrapping your legs around his waist. Finally, Matt moves, sinking his cock into you slowly until he’s completely bottomed out. The initial feeling is euphoric, so euphoric in fact that his arms wobble as he tried to keep himself from collapsing on you. You love seeing him like this. A strong man who’d do anything to protect you, so weak and vulnerable from your touch.

His head finds the place where your neck and shoulder meet, forehead resting in the divot there as he slowly begins thrusting. Soft grunts and groans brush against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Praises fall from your own lips as his tip continues to kiss your cervix, egging him further in helping you reach your climax. But tonight was about him, as long as the man on top of you convulsed with pleasure you’d be happy.

Matt’s hips snap against yours, picking up the pace as he chases his orgasm. It’s so close, right on the edge, and from the way he sounds and feels you’re close too. “Keep going, Matt. Don’t stop,” you moan, pulling him in closer with your legs around his waist. Matt whimpers your name, sucking and biting on the skin of your neck harder with each passing thrust.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, words choppy and interrupted by pants and moans. All you can do is whimper in return, snaking a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. As soon as your fingers touch the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body goes into overdrive. Your legs are shaking, pussy fluttering around his cock as you grip his shoulders and moan his name. The feeling of your walls pushing and pulling around him, mixed with the way you chant his name, pushes Matt over the edge. His hips tremble slightly as he spills his load inside of you, his inexperience making it to where he’s unable to pull out before the wave of pleasure washed over his body.

Your bodies remain intertwined for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath. Matt reluctantly pulls out of you, relishing in the way your body chases after him. The mattress dips as he slumps into the spot next to you.

“Thank you.”

You turn to face Matt, a confused look on your face. You’re not sure where this will lead your relationship, but you never expected a thank you after sex, nor had you ever received one.

“Thank you?” You chuckle, curious to where the conversation was heading.

He hums. “Yeah, for not letting me die a virgin.” You can’t help the snort that follows.

“Well in that case, I guess you’re welcome. No one deserves to die a virgin, not even at the end of the world.”

Matt smiles again, a sight you’ll never grow tired of. He leans in for a kiss, pulling you close and keeping you there. The kiss is sloppy, mostly because you’re both exhausted from the days events, but neither of you dare pull away. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring or if there will even be a tomorrow, all you know is that this moment right here is real and you’d like to enjoy it for as long as possible.

“Get some rest, we have a long trip tomorrow.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Thank you so much for this request my sweet anon. I’m currently rewatching (binging) TWD and needed to get some zombie apocalypse type story out of my system, so I hope you don’t mind that I used that idea on your request. Also, I know you requested for the reader to teach Matt and I didn’t include really any of that here. I focused on the whole Virgin!Matt aspect of it all. Hope you all enjoy, sorry for not writing a lot recently :P I’m deep in the trenches of Daryl Dixon fanfiction right now so if u need me, that’s where you’ll find me (if u can’t already tell by my reblogs lolol)

ps, I didn’t go to UCLA so if that’s not the mascot don’t kill me. A quick google search told me that much

luv u all xxx

- L.A.M.B 💗👼🏻

—

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[ecoterrorist-katara]

The tragedy of Katara’s parentification

Sokka and Katara were both parentified, and it’s a profoundly life-changing thing for both of them. One of the saddest things in ATLA, though, is how Sokka sort of got to outgrow parentification, but Katara never did.

Sokka’s told to be the man. The provider, the protector. He’s not so good at the former (his hunting failures are a consistent source of comic relief), and he takes failures of the latter very, very hard. He doesn’t manage to save Yue, and that wrecks him. After Yue, he becomes extremely protective of Suki in a way that’s borderline offensive to her. He’s willing to do anything to protect his friends and his family, including something as irresponsible as breaking into the Boiling Rock. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Sokka is the only one of the Gaang who unambiguously kills. The rest of them may technically have clean hands because of cartoon logic, but Combustion Man is very dead, and Sokka is the one who killed him. We don’t know how he feels about it, because the show never goes there, but I have a pet theory that Sokka is so uncharacteristically (remember he was team “leave Zuko to freeze to death”) against Katara confronting Yon Rha in The Southern Raiders because he’s the only who knows what killing feels like and wants to protect Katara from it.

But by the end of the show, Sokka’s in a place where he can start to let go of his need to protect. Objectively, all his friends are unbelievably powerful and can take care of themselves, including his sister and his girlfriend. Suki is the one who saves him in the final battle, representing not only a reversal of his initial cartoonish misogyny, but also demonstrating that he is worthy of protection. And of course, he and his friends saved the world, so there isn’t really an enemy that he has to protect them from anymore. Sokka’s loved ones create the conditions under which his parentified behaviour is no longer necessary. Sokka would still have to take the first step to stop seeing himself as the one who has to lay his life on the line, but at least it’s possible for him.

But not Katara.

Katara had to take on the mom role after their mother was murdered, which meant she was responsible for domestic labour and emotional support. Sokka says in The Runaway that her role was to keep the family together. Unlike protection, that’s always a full time job regardless of the war. We see Katara spending more screen time than anybody cooking, getting food, mending, and generally doing women’s work. We see Katara giving everyone emotional support, including strangers and her enemy. We see Katara putting aside her own discomfort and her own hurt in The Desert because if she falls apart, they all die. Nobody ever showed her that she doesn’t need to be the only one who cooks, or that somebody else can be responsible for the emotional wellbeing of her friends, or that — god forbid — someone else can actually be responsible for her emotional wellbeing.

That’s why I never cared for the Ka/taang argument of “he teaches her to be a kid again!” Putting aside the fact that Katara ends up taking care of Aang a lot more as the series goes on, the whole tragedy of parentification is that you can never again be a child. That part of your childhood, your god-given right, is robbed from you. It is extremely precious and important to still be able to be a kid, but breaking free of parentification is not about seeing yourself as a kid. It’s about breaking free of being responsible for everyone’s feelings and behaviours.

For Katara, that responsibility is not problem of perception, but of reality. Unlike Sokka, who was told and shown that his loved ones are capable of protecting themselves, Katara has zero reason to believe that her loved ones are able to feed and clothe themselves and not fall apart emotionally. Between Toph and Sokka who emphatically don’t want to do this work, it all falls on Katara. Telling a parentified child that they just need to loosen up is akin to telling an overworked mother that she needs to just relax (“happy Mother’s Day! You get a break from chores, which you will catch up on tomorrow because nobody else is doing them”). It doesn’t accomplish anything if nobody creates the circumstances under which it’s possible to let go of responsibilities. A lot of Zutara fans, spanning all the way back to the early days of the fandom, like the “Momtara and Dadko” trope where Zuko also does chores. Why? Because even without the concept and language of parentification, many fans recognized that Katara’s performance of domestic and emotional labour is inequitable and probably very taxing.

Growing out of parentification is about more than just letting go of old expectations: it’s also about finding a new way to value yourself beyond the role you grew up with. I’ve said this before, but it’s very important to acknowledge that just because a kid is parentified doesn’t mean they’re actually good at being a parent. In fact, it’s probably a given that they’re not, because they’re kids performing roles that are developmentally inappropriate! Sokka remains a shit hunter; he becomes a decent fighter but he’s still miles behind his friends. A big part of healing from his parentification is finding another area — strategy, engineering, project management (what else do you call that schedule) — where he actually excels, to which he can dedicate his time and from which he can derive satisfaction and a sense of identity. For Katara, fighting for the oppressed and combat waterbending give her that. Crucially, however, Katara does not stop being a girl when she becomes a warrior. She’s still responsible for domestic and emotional labour. Unlike Sokka, whose protector duties were more or less relieved as the series went on and he found new ways to contribute to the group, Katara continued to perform her old role in addition to her new one (which is depressingly realistic btw, look up feminist theory around the concept of the second shift). Still, it’s important that she found these new ways to value herself and her contributions…

…which disappear in her adult life. Where’s adult Katara fighting for the oppressed? Where’s adult Katara enjoying her status as a master waterbender? Where’s Mighty Katara? Where’s the Painted Lady? Where’s the person who vanquished a whole Fire Lord?

What do we know about adult Katara? She’s no longer a rabblerouser or an ecoterrorist. She did not translate her desire to help the downtrodden into a political role, like being Chief or on the United Republic Council. She’s not known as the best waterbender in the world, only the best healer, even though her combat abilities are what she took the most pride in. Even as a healer, she established no hospitals, trained no widespread acolytes (except Korra, I guess?), and made no known contributions to the field.

What Katara is known for…is being a wife and a mother. The same role she was forced to take on at age 8. One which she performed for the next 80+ years.

[pianocat939]

Yandere Player 333 (Myung-Gi) Headcanons

This gif screams mansplaining lmao

Lowkey he's kinda super stupid when he was talking with Jun-Hee but never mind that.

Tw: Manipulation. Mostly it. Just manipulation.

This guy definitely gives the type who acts they're rational and always thinks they're right regardless of what the situation is. I think this was super apparent all throughout the season.

Before the game even starts, he doesn't really notice any of the players. All he thinks about is paying off the debt (but then Thanos and Minggyu start bothering him of course).

It was actually the during the consent forms did he notice you first. You were right in front of him. He couldn't help but note you look kind of interesting. He doesn't try talking to you like Thanos would though.

He notices you more during Red Light, Green Light. Especially when Player 196 first gets killed. For some reason, he feels a little protective over you. Maybe because he notices your terrified expression and how you look like you're about to cry.

He doesn't know you, but he quickly shoves you behind him. He doesn't interact you for the rest of the game. Just on his way to win. He occasionally puts his arm behind him to make sure you stop.

He doesn't really do anything during voting time. He won't try to influence your decision unlike Thanos. But he does take note of whatever decision you try to make.

Skipping to the 2nd game, he teams up with you in order to ensure your safety. He’s noticed much more how vulnerable you are. It’s pitiful. But he knows why. So he teams up with you.

“Hey, you don’t have a team yet right? Join mine. You’ll be safer.”

By the 2nd voting, if you aren’t picking O, then he’ll gently coax you. He insists on all sorts of evidence and stuff. Essentially trying to sound smart.

“Do you want to die? Do you want to disappear off the earth with only debt to your name? Then hit X. Around XX% of people die with debt every year.”

The 2nd meal time, he talks to you more. He subtly pats your shoulder or head if you’re freaking out. Or if you’re hidden enough he’ll tug you closer. Warning you to not do anything stupid. That if you want to survive, you need to stick with him.

“That Thanos bastard won’t hesitate to let you die.”

By the 3rd game, he’s tugging you along everywhere. He doesn’t really care who or what. As long as you survive (and himself of course). He becomes much more aggressive about keeping you safe.

“Don’t follow them. They’re gonna push you out!”

All in all, he just hides you or just mostly manipulates you into thinking he’s the rational, smart one. That you need to stick with him because he’s reliable.

—————————————————————————

Ah we love a good manipulative man. Anyway, he’s like the opposite of Thanos, which makes their interactions so much funnier.

I’m still debating whether I do Thanos part 3 first or Myunggi vs Thanos first. We’ll see. Actually, if I do the Myunggi vs Thanos, I’ll probably do 3 parts. Basically the main story and then an ending for Myunggi and Thanos (I want to add some juice).

- Celina

[ayakashiz]

Alien Stage R6 Analysis

VERY LONG compilation of my interpretations, impressions and unanswered questions about Round 6 of Alien Stage. I just wanted to write this to put all my thoughts in one place so I can finally rest (in pieces). TW for mentions of suic*de/suic*dal ideation.

The most debated is no doubt the kiss/choking scene and Ivan’s motivation for doing so in the first place. 

I think from the very beginning, even before R3, Ivan was planning to go out with a bang. That’s the immediate impression I got from the comic where he mocks/criticizes Sua for planning to “selfishly” die for Mizi and feel good being the “heroine” rather than having to deal with the trauma of being the one left behind. 

(I'm too lazy to edit the whole translation as of now, but might do so when I have more time.)

Ivan tells her how he’s “relieved that he’s not the only who’s that twisted” = He’s comparing himself to Sua. He thinks they’re both ‘twisted’ for planning to do the same thing, but from Ivan’s perspective, he at least isn’t fooling himself into thinking his motives are altruistic. He tasted the feeling of being ‘abandoned’, and he knows he doesn’t want to experience it twice. 

He also probably thought that his death wouldn’t be as impactful on Till as Sua’s death on Mizi, and therefore his own selfishness is more justified in his mind. This most likely plays a role in how cold and biting his words are towards Sua –he’s jealous of that difference between them.

I hadn’t noticed this detail the first time I watched the video: Not only did Till look absolutely miserable and defeated from the get go, but he completely gave up and stopped singing at some point. If you look at the video, we can hear the audio that was supposed to be sung, but Till is quiet and still, and THIS is the moment Ivan chooses to act.

Although they do not show the votes at that particular moment, stopping mid song would have definitely taken a hit to Till’s score as it’s basically forfeiting –a huge contrast to his previous match where he didn’t even let his opponent utter a single line.

In response, Ivan doesn’t just walk towards him but throws his microphone to the ground, explicitly forfeiting as well in order to then pull a drastic move like it was foreshadowed in his interview.

The kiss itself imo was the less calculated/arguably unplanned part. He could have just choked Till from the start and it would have gotten him the same if not better results (since it was the act of violence against another contestant that ultimately lowered his score and got the counter to stop). 

That kiss was authentic and for himself entirely, both as a last desperate attempt at conveying his feelings and a selfish way of leaving a strong impression on Till that he wouldn’t be able to forget (a hypocritical move going back to how he criticized Sua). In that sense, I don’t think Ivan was seriously trying to take Till down with him –although that’s up to interpretation. As I see it, that would contradict his actions up until that point.

Till was VERY CLEARLY suic*dal (once again, he gave up singing), and after the initial shock of Ivan squeezing his neck, this fiery, rebellious man who is KNOWN to fight tooth and nail, simply closed his eyes and relaxed his body, waiting for Ivan to end him without fighting at all. 

The thing is, no matter how suic*dal one may be, the fighting response when being actually suffocated is automatic and completely involuntary. People mention there not being marks on Till’s neck but I think the most telling sign is him not going red, not squirming, not struggling or holding onto Ivan’s wrists (again, expected involuntary responses), his eyes not watering or having blurry vision while we see Ivan from his POV, not opening his mouth even a little to gasp for air and not coughing or gasping either when he was finally released.

Ivan definitely had him in a strong grip, might have even made him a bit lightheaded, but the reason why Till could look so relaxed in the first place is because he had given up and was waiting for Ivan to go ahead. If his closed eyes and limp posture were due to the choking itself, he would have fallen or stumbled when being let go, but we see that his eyes open as soon as he feels Ivan’s hands slipping away and he looks shocked instead.

So then what was Ivan’s motivation, if not to kill him? Yes, there’s the already discussed plan to get himself disqualified. But Ivan glances at the screen only a few seconds after he starts the choking, confirming that the voting had in fact stopped with Till having the higher score. He then goes for one last ‘goodbye’ kiss before continuing to choke him, holding his grip even as he starts getting shot.

We see a closeup of him, his eyes and hands trembling, looking more frustrated/emotional than in Till’s first POV where he looks rather stoic. It makes me think that the reason he refused to let go was simply because he wanted Till to look at him. 

They strongly imply throughout the whole video that being annoying or mean or violent was the only way Ivan learnt how to make Till focus his full attention on him, but now even as he’s threatening his life, even as he himself is dying, even after that kiss, Till wouldn’t look. 

It took him getting fatally wounded and realizing there was no turning back to reach a state of acceptance. His bittersweet expression here reminds me A LOT of his smile after Till runs back during the meteor scene, although this one seems a lot more tender. He seems to accept the fact that Till will never love him back, but Ivan cannot stop loving him anyways and he at least got to put his feelings out there. 

(The parallels here are driving me insane. The way there is light in his eyes in both instances as he looks at Till even while 'losing him' in a way. The struggle between wanting to posses him yet realizing his free spirit/strong will is part of what he loves about him. That last genuine gaze from a character who spent his whole life putting on a mask. Yes I am very normal about this.)

Until then, Ivan’s more tender/vulnerable side is only shown while Till is unconscious or looking away.

(That soft, loving nuzzle to Till's face has me in SHAMBLES.)

But ironically, it’s only when he releases him and shows him this vulnerability without a mask that Till really looks at him for the first time. I’d go as far as to say that it was this moment, and not the kiss, that finally made Till understand Ivan’s feelings. And in turn Ivan gets that little shot of euphoria as he falls to the ground.

Going back to the survivor’s guilt… I can only imagine it’ll go completely downhill for Till from now on. Not only does he already think Mizi might be dead and is angry at himself that he couldn’t save her (as seen in the shot where he punches his own picture), but now he has most likely realized that Ivan intentionally fumbled their match for his sake –which would lead to the realization that he was the reason why Ivan chose to run back to Anakt Garden after him in the first place, and that choice ultimately lead to his death. 

Even though we see them fighting a lot as children through the videos and comics, it’s also implied that they were always together and they shared some quiet moments –the “Mizi didn’t play with you, I played with you” art, all that art of the main 4 playing together, those bright smiles as they ran away together during the meteor shower scene and Till looking so guilty when he let go of his hand. 

There are a few cute doodles of them for those who are on Patreon, and some more lore in the Anakt Garden kit –so they were at the very least friends in their own way (as best as 2 very traumatized and abused children could), constantly fighting and making up. Which God… it shows that despite appearances Till must have actually had the patience of a saint when they were little lmao.

But what I’m trying to say is that despite what Ivan may have thought, his death will most definitely have an impact on Till and the narrative going forward, and I’m excited to find out how that reflects in the final round (if the resistance doesn’t manage to get back up in time to disrupt it). 

Despite how much I adored (and SUFFERED WITH) this round, I still have MANY questions that were left unanswered, both about Ivan and Till, and the lore in general, and I wonder if there’ll be time to answer them all, as I can imagine the next MV will be focused on Luka’s perspective, the only one we haven’t been presented with.

One of the most pressing questions being: What’s the relationship between Ivan and that alien dog? Did he tame it? It is implied that it was Ivan who somehow led Till and Mizi to it in the first place in that one scene, and if so I wonder what his motivation was? Normally jealousy would be the first thing to come to mind but Ivan wasn’t interested in Till until AFTER he saw him stand up to the beast to protect Mizi, so it couldn’t have been that. 

This is something that was also teased on Patreon and I was looking forward to the explanation on the MV, but it never came, and now Ivan is dead, so the next video will most likely not be too concerned with his backstory any longer. (Which, also, I was really curious about his life in the slums before being captured, auctioned and brought to Anakt, as that would have played a huge role in his twisted personality/dark tendencies –once again teased on Patreon very briefly, but not explained beyond that frame of him looking famished.)

The second is, how is Ivan able to open Till’s collar/muzzle so easily? This is a question I’ve been having since R3, but chalked it up to Ivan being sneaky and figuring out some kind of code to the cell door and that somehow automatically deactivating the locks on the restraints… or something. But with how many times he does it in R6 with just a touch it’s very clear that that isn’t the case and also imo they’re trying to point this out as a significant detail. 

It may turn out that I’m just looking too much into it, but I find it really curious and interesting. Not only is he the only child without a collar (Mizi and Sua still had them despite being just as well behaved as him), but he seems to be the only one able to take them off –or at least Till’s. I’m pretty sure the children wouldn’t normally be able to remove them by themselves as it seems to be a control mechanism. So how can Ivan? This might explain a lot about how they were able to escape, and also add a layer of tragedy knowing that Ivan could have chosen to escape by himself at any point, but refused to leave Till behind.

Last but not least there’s all the human experimentation Till was subjected to, which was the main topic of the teaser and we see the same images show up in the very beginning of the MV. They help emphasize Till’s suffering and distressed state of mind, but then they’re never expanded on or mentioned at all for the rest of the video. That’s a huge piece of lore that I also hope isn’t forgotten.

I mean, I really doubt it will. So far VIVINOS & co. have been incredible with their ability to hold back information and release it at the moment where it’s the most impactful, which is refreshing to see. So I trust we’ll get some answers eventually. 

Really curious to know why they would experiment on an ALNST contestant in the first place, especially one that is undoubtedly talented and described as a musical genius (aka. has good odds of doing well on stage and earning the segyein revenue). A very plausible theory might just be that he was just getting constantly drugged to make him less of a threat/more submissive –like we see on the karaoke room scene. But it might as well be something bigger.

As for my expectations for the next round… I’m still just trying to process this one, as you can see by the sheer amount of text. There are many things left to address, and the Hyuna/Luka confrontation has been strongly teased. I wonder also, if the round goes on without interruption, what would Luka’s strategy against Till be? Would he go for provocation again, trying to imitate Mizi/hint to his recent trauma with Ivan? It probably won’t be that simple.

I mean, VIVINOS has been known for subverting our expectations with each round:

The ominous/callous framing that was given to Ivan by the end of Black Sorrow and the art that followed, making us suspicious of his intentions, only to have him die for love. The lifeless/doll-like framing given to Luka, vulnerable and cornered by flashing lights, only to have him be the cruelest/most calculating one (that we know so far). The rebellious, rowdy, willing to do anything to survive framing given to Till, only to have his fighting spirit completely break and willingly waiting to die by Ivan’s hands. The naive, complacent and passive image given to Mizi, only to have her snap, beat the shit out of Luka and join the rebellion –and with how things are going (and her being the protagonist) I wouldn’t be surprised if she, and not Hyuna (the one who was framed as the most strong and reliable, giving us a false sense of security going into R6), is who will have to try and rescue Till (and Luka???).

There are still a ton of things that keep me awake at night about R6 –my favorite character dying aside. I could talk about it forever, but I’ll leave it here. 

Feel free to share your theories, delusions, interpretations or any detail I might have missed with me. God knows we need group therapy after this as the cute chibi keychains can only heal us so far. Thanks for reading my rambles if you made it this far. :’)