#idk the brand name of the bottom ones but i like the designs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sombreboy · 4 years ago

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Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own.

Written together with @chimoona as JM and @sombreboy as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest.

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close.

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications.

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs.

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise.

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face.

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man.

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied.

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more.

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks.

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time.

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles.

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed.

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him.

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes.

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock.

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

#fic: expensive doll #Mused Obsession #jikook smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #bts mxm smut #bts mxm #bts smut #sub jimin #dom jungkook

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honeytae · 4 years ago

Text

I can’t wait to create more memories with you.

hi my loves! so this is a super fluffy little piece about jungkook and his s/o moving in together - it starts out on moving day and there’s a little flashback to when the topic of moving in together was first brought up :) it’s overall just really cute idk i hope you guys like it <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy

genre: fluff

word count: 2.8k

Slowly turning the handle to enter your apartment, you tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for what you would inevitably see. That didn’t seem to work, though, since it felt like an absolute sucker-punch to the gut.

The space looked brand new; a completely blank canvas for its next tenants.

Walking into the empty apartment you used to call your own now felt heavy instead of homey. The path to your bedroom felt routine, but slightly shaken with the absence of all your things. Photos of your family no longer occupied the walls, that little throw rug you’d picked out for the summer had been cleaned off the floor, and the various vases of flowers your boyfriend surprised you with were no longer kept front and center on the table against the wall.

And even though those items were still in existence, even though everything was still intact and far from gone, it still made your heart clench a bit in your chest that they would no longer be here.

Rounding the corner to enter your bedroom, you leaned your shoulder against the door frame for a moment, admiring the pristine openness of your room in its empty state. You couldn’t recall it ever feeling so big.

Heaving a deep sigh, you let your legs carry your body over to the bay window, taking a seat on the ledge to peer out at the view one last time.

At the sound of Jungkook calling your name, you glanced back to the doorway of your bedroom, staring at your boyfriend as he tipped his head at your unreadable expression.

Although he’d been lifting boxes all throughout the morning and afternoon, somehow he barely looked strained. In fact, he was still annoyingly attractive. He had his grown out hair tossed back into a bun (with one of your hair ties), and he was wearing plain black shorts hidden beneath one of his many oversized t-shirts.

How he could make it all look so good, you had no idea.

“Hi.” You said, the man wordlessly approaching you with a run of his palms down his thighs, crossing the room in only a few long strides to get to your swinging legs.

“I didn’t expect to find you in here. You okay?” He asked, his brows pulled together as he took a seat beside you.

Taking a stray strand of your hair between his fingers, he pushed it back from your face, subtly analyzing the emotions written into your features with dancing pupils.

Immediately wanting to ease him, you leaned forward, pursing your lips underneath his jawline before letting your chin rest on his shoulder.

Wrinkling your nose at the odor rising from his t-shirt, you tilted your head slightly to escape the smell, unbeknownst to Jungkook.

“You’re sweaty.” You observed, the man craning his neck to look down at you, comically raising his brows at your bluntness.

“I’ve been working!” He defended himself, making you chuckle a bit before picking your head up to smile at him.

“I know you have.” You said appreciatively, leaning forward to press your lips to his when he subtly puckered them out to you.

“Saying your goodbyes?” He offered in explanation to your presence in the apartment, having already successfully gathered every last box there was to take.

You laughed at that, nodding a bit in response.

“In a way.” You shrugged, letting your temple fall on his bicep with a sigh. Shifting your eyes down to your leg as Jungkook grabbed ahold of your thigh, you smiled as he lifted and draped it over his own thigh, drumming his pointer fingers on your muscle.

Feeling his lips purse against the top of your head, you let your eyes fall shut, the distant sound of birds outside the screened window behind you letting you zone out into a much more peaceful space than your mind had been in previously.

It was the only serene moment you’d had today. From movers bustling in and out of your apartment, your mom coming to help you label and sort all your boxes, your neighbors poking their heads in to the chaos to finally nose their way into seeing the layout of your place in comparison to theirs; it had been a lot.

“Are you gonna miss it here?”

Peeling your eyes open at Jungkook’s sudden question, you lifted your head to properly look at him, curiosity evident in the slight widening of his eyes.

“Hm. The memories it holds, more than anything.” You answered, watching as he nodded in understanding. “I never liked the kitchen layout.” You added as an afterthought, causing the man to burst into giggles before shaking his head at you.

“I don’t think the kitchen was too bad. Although I love our kitchen.” He grinned at the emphasis he could officially put on the word, you sharing the same reaction at the phrase. Our kitchen. Our new apartment.

“I’m so excited.” You all but squealed, the man chuckling as you squeezed him tighter to you in your excitement.

“Me too.” He said, smile slightly closing his eyes as his face creased with the strength of his happiness.

“Remember how nervous you were when you first brought up moving in together?” You wondered, peeking over at the closet across the room that had started it all.

“I do.” He chuckled, making you smile as your brain took you back to the event that had taken place only a few months prior, in this very room.

“Hey.”

Looking up from the heap of clean clothes at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you had eyed a pouty Jungkook, raising your eyebrows at his expression as his eyes briefly fixed on the clothes before focusing back on your face as he shuffled into your bedroom.

The tone and facial expression that Jungkook greeted you with had your eyes widened slightly, examining his approaching stature, his eyes squinted at you accusingly.

“Hi.” You responded, laying Jungkook’s clean boxers on your thigh to straighten the fabric before you creased it.

“Are you hiding something from me?” He asked, causing you to tip your head in confusion as you stared back at him, bottom lip jutted out slightly.

“Not that I know of, no.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raised at that, walking further into the bedroom to approach where you sat on the mattress folding a fresh load of clean clothes.

You watched as his eyes searched the pile, sighing dejectedly before turning back toward the closet to rummage through it some more.

“What are you up to?” You asked, Jungkook’s actions stalling only a bit when he picked up on the annoyed tone you used at his messing up of the rack of clothes in there.

“I’m looking for my hoodie.” He explained his actions, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back.

Jungkook seemed to have an emotional attachment to each and every one of his hoodies, even though he had hundreds to speak of. Every time you borrowed one, he tracked you down and made you give it back.

It was never in a mean way; he only wanted his stuff returned, and you understood that. But at a certain point, it was just annoying.

“Which one are you looking for?”

“It’s the black one with the blue flames on the hood.” He recalled, scanning the row of clothes for the design before grunting in disapproval upon coming up empty-handed.

Shaking your head, you sighed as you diverted your eyes back to the clothes awaiting folding. You could still hear the man rummaging through the plethora of hung items over your music, pressing your lips together in slight annoyance at the stubborn man.

The closet in your bedroom was now a fifty-fifty split of your clothes and Jungkook’s. You couldn’t recall when he had started keeping clothes there; you suppose it just happened naturally as he spent more and more time with you.

In fact, you were going on two years. You had picked up his habits and him some of yours, you knew all his little quirks and vice versa. Including his necessity for keeping all his precious hoodies in check.

“Why must you fret about each and every one of your hoodies' temporary absences?” You sighed, the man mumbling an “ouch” as something fell out onto his foot.

“Because I know someone,” he looked back to you for emphasis, “likes to steal them and then I never get them back. I swear you’re renting a storage locker for my hoodies just so I can’t find them here.”

At his dramatics, you merely sighed again, going back to folding your t-shirt before you paused, looking up to stare at the back of his head.

Thinking back, you could picture the black hoodie in a heap on his bedroom floor the other day, tossed aside after some activities between you two and obviously forgotten about by your boyfriend.

“Did you check your place?” You asked, Jungkook’s actions pausing at your words before he slowly spun around to you.

His face was plagued with guilt, cheeks full in a different kind of pout than the bratty one he’d greeted with as his sweet doe eyes came out to play.

“Ugh, sorry.” He said, cheeks heated before he made his way over to you, landing on the mattress with his head resting on your thigh.

You chuckled at the embarrassed pout on his face as he nestled his head into your leg, staring up at you with a ‘hmph.’

“I just can’t seem to keep track of what’s at mine or yours.” He explained, you nodding with a fond smile as you brushed hair back from his face.

“I know. You just get so damn protective over those hoodies.” You teased, the man scrunching his nose at your cooing tone.

“It is really difficult to keep track of what is where.” He sighed, looking up at you with a gleam in his eye that told you he was thinking something he wasn’t saying.

“It is. What’s going on in here, baby?” You tapped your pointer finger against the crown of his head, the man smiling shyly as he grabbed your hand in his.

“Why don’t we,” he trailed off, hoping you’d get his hint so he didn’t have to come out and actually say it. When you only stared at him in response, he sighed, shaking his head to negate what he’d been saying causing you to grab his wrist with a pout.

“Why don’t we what?” You asked, jutting your bottom lip out at the disappointed look on your boyfriends face, smoothing your thumb over the corner of his mouth to ease his frown.

“Well, you know,” he shrugged, “since it’s so hard going back and forth between each other’s places,” he trailed off, groaning when you only smiled back at him, eyebrows raised in amusement as you waited for him to continue.

The look on your face told him you knew. The gleam in your eye told him you knew exactly what he was trying to articulate.

“Baby,” He groaned, realizing you were messing with him as you pulled begging eyes down at him. He removed his hand from yours, pulling it away with a pout as you chuckled at his reaction.

“What, Kook? What’s on your mind?” You continued playing dumb, wanting to drag the words you’ve been waiting so long to hear out from the man.

“C’mon, why are you making me say it if you already know?” He whined, you giggling as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Because I want to hear it from you. And I like seeing you squirm.” You smirked, the man scoffing underneath you as he recaptured your hand in his own.

“Baby, my sweet angel, the brightest star in the entire universe-“

“Jungkook!” You laughed, lightly squeezing his hand as you grinned down at him, his teeth shining up at you as he shyly blushed at the words in his brain.

“Can we move in together?”

“Hm,” you hummed, the man’s eyes bulging as he slightly panicked beneath you, “give me some good reasons to.” You smirked again, your boyfriend gasping at your words before he took control, flipping you over to hover above your frame as you squealed at the sudden action.

“You brat.” He leaned his forehead down to yours, effectively silencing you with a kiss to your lips, your fingers tickling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“For one,” he started, “you wouldn’t have to hear me complaining about my missing hoodies anymore. I can make a mean cup of tea, I’m really good at laundry, I-”

You cut the man off with a press of your lips to his, silencing him with a muffled noise as his hand squeezed at your hip.

“You don’t have to give me any reasons.” You mumbled against his lips, feeling them curl into a small smile as he made a noise of delighted surprise. He knew you were only teasing, but he couldn’t believe you hadn’t dragged it out longer.

“Really?” He grinned, causing you to giggle beneath him out of sheer fondness.

“Yeah, I’ll move in with you.”

“Really, really?” He grinned, his doe eyes sparkling at you as you nodded to confirm, laughing at the man’s goofy repetition of the question you’d already answered.

“So, we’re actually doing this? We’re moving in together?” He raised his eyebrows, face melting into a grin as you brushed his hair back from his forehead.

“I think we’re ready, don’t you?” You smiled, the look of absolute happiness on your boyfriends face almost making you tear up as he all but hugged you to his frame.

“I know we’re ready, baby.” He nodded, kissing you again as you both continued smiling like idiots.

“Wait, how do we do this?” You asked, Jungkook furrowing his brows as he pondered your question.

“Huh. I don’t know.” He chuckled, you giggling along with him before sighing in thought.

“Do we want to look for a new apartment altogether?” You wondered aloud, Jungkook bouncing his head back and forth in thought, hair moving with his head.

“We could. Do you really want to leave here, though?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise when you shrugged in response, raising your hand to cup his cheek lovingly.

“I don’t care where I live as long as you’re with me. What about your place?” You offered, Jungkook mirroring your earlier response with a quirk of his shoulders up to his face.

“You’re my home.” He put simply, laughing when your bottom lip jutted into a pout, pressing kisses over your face as your eyes filled with water out of pure adoration for the man.

At the memory, you felt your eyes water again, looking up at Jungkook with a pout. Your boyfriend, wrinkling his nose at your expression, poked at your bottom lip, tutting his tongue at you.

“What happened to not caring where you lived as long as I’m with you?” He teased, squeezing your shoulder with a smile.

“I still feel that way, Kookie.” You assured him with a grin, taking his hand as he wiggled his fingers out to you.

“Good. We’re going to create so many more memories in our new home, I promise.” He said, baring his teeth to you again as he felt you squeeze your fingers around his hand.

“I know. I can’t wait to create more memories with you.” You sighed dreamily, leaning in for another chaste kiss on the man’s tempting pout.

“So,” he leaned his forehead against yours, “are you feeling ready to leave now?”

His words were soft, but they weren’t spoken with tentativeness. There was obvious excitement in his tone, an emotion that had you wanting to spring off your bay window and never look back.

“Let’s go.” You smiled, coming to a stand as Jungkook remained seated, grinning at you in amusement at your sudden change in attitude about leaving this place.

“Alright, boss.”

With a grunt, he came to his feet, never letting go of your hand as you made your final stroll through the apartment together.

Passing through the years’ worth of memories within the walls, you both took a silent few steps before pausing in the entryway, giving the place one last glance before meeting each others eyes with small, matching smiles.

Turning the handle to your front door for the last time, you let the latch slide closed like you had so many times before, tick-tick tacking as it came to a secure shut.

Shutting the door behind you, simultaneously opening a new one.

#bts fanfiction #bts member x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts reader insert #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #fanfiction #x reader #imagines #fluff

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brainmaniaman · 4 years ago

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2019 Kia Soul (Bertholdt Hoover/Reader Smut)

PAIRING: Bertholdt Hoover/Reader, mentions of Eren Yeager/Reader AU: my own personal toxic!roommate eren/reader/stoner bertholdt hoover au PLOT LINE: your toxic roommate eren has been telling everyone that you've been official for nearly a month now, despite only having what you thought to be casual hookups. you decide it's in best practice to flex your freedom as a single woman and fuck one of his friends. bertholdt was always nicer to you, anyways. BACKGROUND: basically . . . like my friend and i came up with a toxic eren / reader alternate universe but i am too lazy to actually put it into an actual cohesive storyline so i'm just going to make different works of fiction and put it in the same cinematic universe ig. idk my friend basically said "i feel like bertholdt would have so much anxiety in a modern au that he'd self-medicate with marijuana and become a major pothead" and like, idk i fell in love with it. i literally do not care if you don't like toxic eren because he is the love of my life and that's just how it be. there's actually a cohesive storyline it'll come together somehow it's just not in sequential order. TAGS/WARNINGS: NSFW, recreational drug use, sex while high, reader is definitely topping bertholdt i'm not sorry, car sex, dry grinding, top!fem reader, bottom!bertholdt, light toxic! eren/reader, lots of exposition WORD COUNT: 5,436

JANUARY 23RD, 2021

Even though you loved Historia, you hated parties. It wasn't that you thought you were better parties - in fact, you could see why people enjoyed them. Even so, there was something about the noise and the strobe vicious lighting that assaulted your eyes. Despite this, Historia's parties were always incredibly fun - something about the overall vibe of her parties was excellent simply based on the fact that they weren't normal. Sure, the atmosphere was normal. Drunk people still stumbled and fumbled all over the lawn, laughing as they danced and toppled over each other. It was no different inside, either. All sorts of people stumbled up and down the large bannister inside of a very large home. (One might even call it a mansion, but for some reason - you hated the word mansion. It just felt pretentious. )The only difference? Everyone was dressed to the absolute nines. Those who weren't in suits or small dresses were in outfits branded with all sorts of designer logos - some so high-end that you couldn't even recognize them. In all honesty, it felt like something ripped straight out of The Great Gatsby. For a second, you surveyed your surroundings. Despite it only being 10pm, you could already pinpoint a few people who were passed out in the front yard. "(Name) -" Historia had practically bound down the front steps of her home, waving at you with a big smile. Trailing lazily behind her was her girlfriend Ymir, who defied the dress code of the party by simply wearing jeans and a nice top, with her hands shoved in her pockets. "So good to see you!" A few guys dressed in very nice, but now very crumpled, suits pushed past the three of you, though only made it a few steps before leaning over to hurl. "Wonderful . . ." you muttered to yourself. "Good to see you, too" You leaned down and exchanged a hug with Historia. For a second, you and Ymir shared a tense moment - but both of you relented, simply nodding in each other's direction. Given that the two of you had a somewhat intense relationship, one that was characterized by constant banter and quips, simply acknowledging each other's existence without bursting into flames was a great step in the right direction for the both of you. "You look good!" Historia complimented the very tiny red dress and very high heels you donned. "Thanks." was your short response, unsure of how exactly to proceed with the conversation. What else were you supposed to say? There was a silent pause. "Look - there's Armin!" Historia broke the silence, desperately grasping for any form of conversation. She raised herself onto her toes, waving at Armin above the crowd. Armin waved back cheerfully, uncharacteristically happy to be at the party; perhaps it was because he was content being surrounded by his friends. "And don't forget (Name)'s boyfriend, Eren" You almost choked on your spit. "Excuse me?" You interjected, your head creaking in Ymir's direction, clearly in a state of shock and disbelief. "Your boyfriend, Eren." Ymir repeated, this time slower - as though you were stupid. "I don't know what you see in that asshole, though" You turned your head towards Eren, who stood several feet away from you, seemed clearly pleased - you could tell by the way that the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a slight smirk. He even had the audacity to send you an arrogant little wave, his fingers wriggling playfully. I'm - you thought, I'm going to suffocate him in his sleep - "Oh, hush" Historia interrupted, "You don't know what their relationship is like - besides, Eren isn't all the bad. I'm sure the two of you have quite an interesting dynamic going on between you . . ." Ymir scoffed at Historia's comment, ". . . one that isn't any of our business!" ". . . right, because Eren is the world's best boyfriend. . ." Ymir wasn't convinced. For a bit, you were too stunned to speak - but after the three of you fell into another uncomfortable

silence, the anger radiating from you being so thick that you could cut it with a knife, you finally spoke up. "Who . . . who the fuck did you hear that shit from?" You were livid. "Whoever told you that . . . was a fucking idiot and you're a dumbass for believing it" "Woah, what the fuck?" Ymir responded quickly, "I don't know who you think you're talking to, but it's sure as hell not me. Why don't you take a couple steps and calm the fuck down? Eren told everyone last month's game night at my place that you two had been at it for a while and were now a thing. Maybe if you actually came to a game night, you'd know what the fuck is going on -" "Ymir." Historia breathed out a word of caution, a slight edge in her voice. "That's not -" "For Christ's sake, Historia? You're just gonna let her talk shit like that? Man, fuck this - I'm not going to sit around and let someone talk to me like this, I'm going inside." It wasn't like Ymir to leave Historia's side, but the reality was that she was beyond pissed; that and she had the confidence that Historia would follow shortly after - which she was right about. "I'm sorry" Historia let out a flurry of apologies. "We all thought it was kind of weird, given how tough your housing situation is . . ." "No," You responded sheepishly, "I should apologize . . . I shouldn't have lashed out like that" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. "I should probably apologize to . . ." "Now probably isn't the best time . . . maybe later?" Historia answered honestly. You nodded a bit, the palm of your hand still resting on the back of your neck. "I don't want to leave you here alone, but . . ." You were about to interrupt Historia and tell her that you would fare fine, but her expression seemed to light up a bit as she saw Armin approaching. "Oh, perfect - Armin is this way! I'll let you two talk a bit while I go see where Ymir went off to . . . talk to you soon!" "Talk to you soon . . ." "Hey!" Now you were face to face with Armin, who was beaming straight at you, only looking away for a split second to exchange a quick hello with Historia once moer. However, his smile faded a bit when he noticed the frown that was curling at your lips. ". . . are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm uh . . . fine" You were scratching nervous rash into the back of your neck by now, "I like your new haircut. It looks nice on you." "You think so?" Armin ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it around a bit, though was clearly happy with the compliment. "Eren suggested it . . . said my hair was getting too long . . . kind of ironic, considering his hair is so long he keeps it in a bun - right?" "Right . . . right . . ." You trailed off a bit. You wet your dry bottom lip with your tongue, clearly uncomfortable. "So, uh . . . speaking of Eren . . . did he, uh . . . he hasn't said anything about us being like, a thing or anything right?" What little smile was left on Armin's face completely disappeared. "Uh - you're not dating?" "Nooo . . ." You drawled out the o's, so embarrassed that you couldn't even make eye contact with him. ". . . well, this is awkward." Armin pinched the bridge of his nose. As far as he had been concerned, both you and Eren had been dating for nearly a month now. "Yeah . . . it is. It's just . . . well, he said at the group game night that you two were . . . you know, a thing, and . . . well, we just assumed because the two of you live together and you're . . . well, you know . . . you've -" "Had sex?" Armin's face turned red at your statement. "Well, yeah - but that was a mistake on our part." "Clearly." He was growing increasingly more nervous. "I - I'm sorry" Armin sputtered out, wringing his hands together in front of him. "It's not your fault." "I know - but -" Armin pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead, clearly very stressed out. " - I'll fix it. Just

stay here."

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You did not stay in your place. In fact, mere seconds after Armin had disappeared into the crowd to find his friend and sort out this awful situation, you found yourself awfully angry, bored, and alone - and there was nobody around you to take your mind off the fact that your roommate wasn't only an asshole but he was also a liar. Of course, that was before you saw a very familiar figure huddled over the fence at the edge of the property, holding in his hand what was very clearly a blunt. Much like Ymir, he was very casually dressed - except unlike Ymir, he hadn't even bothered wearing a nice shirt with his jeans . . . simply his standard, oversized, blue sweater with the white collar of his shirt folded over the edges. Excitement bubbled in your stomach at the sight of Bertholdt - someone you actually liked. "Hey - Bert - !" You were waddling in your heels over to him, desperately trying to keep your heels from sinking into the dirt, "Don't finish that blunt! Save some for me!" He looked over his shoulder, his eyes locking with yours. For a second, it seemed like he didn't recognize you. You tripped over your heels, stumbling forward. It wasn't until he caught you, hoisting you up by the elbows back onto your feet, that he realized who you were. Bertholdt's gaze moved from your eyes to your chest and his face exploded red before he respectfully shot his eyes in a separate direction out of sheer panic. "Don't be stingy -!" You exclaimed, pointing your index finger to your lips, "Put the damn thing between my lips! I know you keep like, an ounce on you at all times - so you can miss me with that but this is my last joint shit" Bertholdt seemed beside himself by your sudden demands. For a second, it even took him quite a bit to process what the hell you were even saying. "Eh -?" "Are you too high to understand me?" You teased. "Weed. Lips. Now." "I don't know . . . last time you smoked, you didn't seem too good . . ." Bertholdt responded slowly. You frowned at the comment. He wasn't wrong. The last time he had seen you smoke, which was the first time you had ever smoked, you had become a bit paranoid and out of it - reacting rather adversely to the weed. However, you and your special roommate had become quite frequent smokers. "Well, the last time you saw me smoke was the first time I had ever smoked in my life. It's been a month since then, and I've smoked more since then. Also, last time I was drinking and smoking - a lethal combination, you know." The irritation in your voice was quite obvious. The last thing you wanted right now was to be judged by someone. Bertholdt grew somewhat anxious, growing more nervous and anxious as he became increasingly more aware of your frustration. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to, uh -" Bertholdt scratched the side of his face uncomfortably. "Offend you . . ." Now that he wasn't hunched over you and his shoulders were pulled back, it was apparent just how much taller he was than you. "Well, I suppose if you promise not to drink . . . I can let you smoke" He offered you a rather meek smile as he tried to crack a joke. Once he could tell you had received the joke well, his shoulders relaxed a bit. Once more, he leaned against the fence - adjusting himself down to your height. "Here -" He held the blunt in front of you. Without second-guessing, you leaned forward - wrapping your lips around the end of the blunt tightly and taking a few puffs. Bertholdt grew silent - his cheeks flaring a bright red. "You know, I don't know why you do that?" You pulled back, coughing up a bit of smoke. "Do what?" "You don't grab your own blunt, like -" He brought the end of it back to his own lips, finishing off the end of it. He dropped it into the dirt, smudging it out with the toe of his shoe. "- you just smoke it straight from someone's hand. And by someone's hand, I mean -" He wanted to finish his comment with Eren's

hand - but the sharp look in your eye warned him not to. "It's just, you know - you act strong, and in many respects you are . . . but you know, for someone who claims that they don't rely on anyone - you sure rely on someone a lot -" "I didn't know you liked to get into other people's fucking business when you're high -" "Hey, hey, hey -" Bertholdt held his hands up in defense, as though he were trying to pump the breaks, "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. Relying on someone isn't bad. I rely on Reiner and Annie regularly . . ." He bent his neck backwards, his lips parting in the cold air as his adam's apple slid up and down his throat a bit nervously. ". . . we're not meant to be alone or anything. But, I should say . . . you might want to find better people to rely on, you know?" "We're not the same" You blurted out in the spur of the moment. There was an awkward pause of silence. Man, it seemed like tonight was full of awkward pauses. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to come off like a bitch . . . like, you can depend on whoever you want just . . . don't go projecting your shit on me, okay? That's between you and your friends." You turned your head away from him, watching as strobe lights lit the night sky. "You can be dependent on whoever you want . . . I'm just not like that." It was a lie, of course. You depended on people more than anything. Eren, your next door neighbors Erwin and Levi, Armin, Mikasa . . . you just hated to admit it. "Alright" Bertholdt laughed out loud, "So you come over here and demand me to share my weed and you can't even pretend to go along with what I have to say? I see how it is" He jested, nudging you in your side lightly. Relaxing a bit, you let out your own laugh. "I'm a bit uptight, aren't I?" Bertholdt made a small gesture with his thumb and index finger. "Just a little bit" "It's okay, you can say a-lot-a-bit" You poked your tongue out from in between your lips, the familiar pressure of the high building up in the front of your head. A few moments of silence passed by as both you and Bertholdt watched strangers stumble by, tripping over their laces. "So are you . . . actually dating Eren? When we first met, you and Eren didn't seem to be exactly on . . . the same page . . . you know?" You let out a hefty sigh. He felt like he was walking on eggshells. "Well -" you began to answer his question honestly, but were interrupted by a few girls in the distance whispering. "What the hell is he wearing? Is he seriously wearing that sweater at a fucking party? Isn't that the guy who hangs out on campus and drinks monster like, every day?" Bertholdt pulled at the collar of his shirt, as though he were trying to relieve the choking feeling that was building in his throat. "And what about that girl next to him?" the other one chimed in, "Isn't that the girl that like, got so fucked at a party everyone had to leave and go home?" "Isn't she supposed to be Eren's girlfriend?" the first one scoffed, "What's she doing hanging out with some other guy what a -" "What a what?!" You let out a loud holler, practically ready to throw hands, "Come on! Finish the damn sentence -!" You were about to speak out more until you felt Bertholdt's hand grip gently at your upper arm, tugging you in the opposite direction. "Let's go sit in my car. It's quieter - which will probably make it a better place to talk about . . . you know, this whole debacle"

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Sitting in the passenger's seat, you couldn't help but squirm a little bit. "You didn't strike me as the kind of guy that drove a 2019 Kia Soul" You spoke, leaning your chair back as far as possible. "What did you expect? A 1999 Honda Civic?" "I mean . . ." You trailed off a bit, "Yeah . . . you know, it's a classic stoner car." "So you're stereotyping me?" He laughed, leaning over and opening the glover compartment. He pulled out the fake bottom, revealing a few more pre-rolled blunts underneath it. "Jesus - how much do you smoke?" You inquired, somewhat surprised. "A lot. And you would, too, if you lived the life I did." "Someone's moody." "I'm just being honest" He retorted, placing the pre-rolled blunt between his lips. For a second, the only sound that filled the air was the steady clicking of his lighter as he struggled to light the end of it. Upon finally lighting it, Bertholdt reached beside him - pulling at the seat's lever and sliding himself all the way back. As he puffed on the end of the blunt, smoke began to accumulate and fill the entire car. "You know, during moments like these, I wish I had a sunroof." "So everyone can smell the weed coming out of your car?" You asked sarcastically. He turned his head to face you, his eyebrows furrowing. When you squinted, you could see the red lining the whites of his eyes - indicating just how high he was climbing. "No, so I can see the stars." He answered bluntly. "I would have never guessed." He chuckled. "So . . . you aren't actually dating Eren?" Bertholdt asked, passing the blunt over to you. "No." You took the blunt from his hand, holding it between your index finger and thumb before bringing it to your lips. "In all honesty . . . I don't blame anyone for not asking you. To go around lying about dating someone . . . you'd have to be . . ." Bertholdt coughed as more smoke began to accumulate in the car, ". . . well . . ." "Insane?" You finished his sentence. "Yeah." More silence filled the air as the two of you passed the blunt between each other until he finally reached its bitter end. Bertholdt finished the end of the blunt, as you weren't a big fan of the way the last little bits of weed mixed with ash made your throat burn, before putting it out in the ashtray he kept in the car. "It wouldn't surprise me if he was a clinical psychopath" Bertholdt said. He paused for a second, staring up at the ceiling. The silence became deafening again as he furrowed his eyebrows in thought, his hands folded over his abdomen. "Are psychopaths the ones who don't have feelings? Or are those sociopaths?" Bertholdt appeared genuinely confused. "I can't remember." "Fuck if I know." You shrugged. "A sunroof would be pretty cool . . ." Your gaze lazily slid from looking outside of the passenger's window to staring directly at Bertholdt. "Either way, he's a complete mental case . . . hasn't really been the same since . . ." He squinted, ". . . since that thing in his life happened. But he wasn't always like this, you know - and he's not really a bad guy. Just . . . has a lot of baggage. He used to be really nice, just very angry and loud. Now he's just . . . very angry and quiet. Don't know what clicked in his brain." "Can we change the subject?" You asked, "This talk about Eren is really ruining my high." "Oh. Uh. Yeah. Sorry." His movements and statements were slow, primarily from the weed. Turning on his side, Bertholdt stared rather intently at you. "What are you looking at?" You asked him rather lazily. "You got -" Bertholdt reached his large hand out, gently pressing his index finger underneath your eye without a thought, "An eyelash." He also took the time to tuck a few stray hairs of yours behind your ear. You could feel your body temperature rise.

"Uh . . ." Bertholdt was beginning to panic a bit, suddenly aware of what exactly he had just done. "Sorry . . . I just . . ." He swallowed hard, suddenly jerking onto his back again and stared at the ceiling - his arms rigid at his sides. "I shouldn't have -" "When's the last time you had sex?" You asked bluntly. "E-Excuse me?" "That was really blunt. I'm sorry. It's just, you seem constantly anxious, which is ironic considering how much weed you smoke. Isn't weed supposed to relax you?" "Well, it does . . . most of the time. But

sometimes it can cause a bit of paranoia, you know . . . but for the most part, it kind of helps not think about some of the things that stress me out . . . but that's . . . that's not really important . . ." "I can fuck you, if you want. Like friends do." "L-Like friends do?!" Bertholdt practically choked. "Friends fuck? - I don't think -" "You can say no, if you want. I just thought I'd ask you because I thought it'd relieve you of some of the anxiety." A few months ago, you wouldn't have thought to ask a question this bold. However, in your string of hookups with Eren - you had learned firsthand that sex could be rough and even emotionless. But you imagined that with Bertholdt, it'd be different. For starters, the two of you actually got along - and he was nice to you. And if someone was nice to you, then you were nice back - right? And what was nicer than sex? You probably needed therapy. "Look honestly . . ." He was staring intently up at the ceiling now, squinting, "I'd love to . . . I mean I feel comfortable with you, I like talking to you, we get along . . . but . . ." He became a bit more nervous. How did someone even say that they were a virgin? It made him uncomfortable. "I haven't - you know - like I've done bits - but not -" Bertholdt let out a sign of defeat. "You probably think I'm a loser . . ." "No, I don't think -" "Oh, God!" Bertholdt propped himself up on his elbows, becoming increasingly more frantic as something in his brain seemed to click. "I don't want you to think that I brought you to my car just for sex! Please don't think of me like that - ! I'd never take advantage of someone -" "Hu?" You asked, raising a lethargic eyebrow, "Uh - no. I don't think that you're the type of guy to take advantage of anyone. I was the one who asked you" You were struggling to crawl over the console now, fumbling a bit. Bertholdt's hands came out to grab you by the elbows in order to give you better balance. Once you found your equilibrium, you pulled yourself over into his seat - straddling him. "You're just -" You dipped your head downwards, brushing your nose against his. "You're overthinking it. Don't overthink it." "Oh . . . okay . . ." He laid on his back, looking up at you. Anxiety dripped on his face and he couldn't help but reach upwards, resting his hand on the side of your face. "I just . . . I don't want this to be a high mistake, you know? Like I don't want this to be something where you have sex with me because you're upset. I don't want to be your mistake" "You -" Your dress was hitched up to your thigh now and when you shifted against his dick, he couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan. "- you're not a mistake" Your breath fanned against his face and he could feel his heartrate quickening in his chest. Tilting your head, you leaned forward - placing a very gentle kiss to his lips. - When your lips met his, Bertholdt felt as though a fire had been lit in his stomach. It took him a second to adjust, but soon he was lifting his head upwards - both hands on the side of your face as he returned the kiss with the same fervor. His hands slowly moved from the sides of your face, to your neck, and very hesitantly gripped at your ass. When his long, thin, fingers did grip at your ass, you couldn't help but grind down against his hardening dick in response. In all honesty, this wasn't how he planned on losing his virginity. In fact, he always somewhat hoped and assumed that the first time he had sex, it would be with Annie in a really nice hotel room after a few months of dating. But this? This was pretty fucking great, too. Your hands gripped at his face, pushing him back down in the chair as you slowly slipped your tongue between his lips, using it to push against his own tongue before biting the bottom of his lip and pulling it gently between your teeth before letting it ping back into place. The man looked obviously starstruck by the mere fact you were even touching

him. Your hips, which sat heavy on him, pushed downwards slowly and rocked. His breath hitched in his throat as you rocked against his dick, which was growing uncomfortably hard in his jeans. Instinctively, he rolled his hips against you - albeit a bit awkward and clunky. Is this really happening? he thought to himself. Man, Reiner was not going to believe this - and if he did, he was going to absolutely lose his shit. Your fingers trailed up underneath his shirt, trickling against his skin - causing him to shudder. Small gasps, sighs, and moans left his lips as you continued to grind against him. Dipping your head downwards, you stole another kiss - swallowing his moans in your own mouth. Soon, you broke the kiss - taking the time to drag your tongue down the right side of his neck, biting and sucking on the soft skin. When your mouth hit the crook of his neck, your lips latched themselves onto the skin - sucking and biting the same spot as you continued to grind down into him - the only thing separating you being the fabric of your very thin panties and his jeans. "Christ -" He breathed out. This man was going to go crazy. Soon, you became impatient and unzipped his pants, struggling a bit to push his jeans down. "Here -" He exclaimed excitedly, "Let me help -!" Bertholdt had lifted his hips a bit, shimmying his pants down his hips slightly but quickly became incredibly self-conscious when he realized that his dick was hard and pressing against his boxers. You palmed his dick, rubbing your hand gently in a back and forth motion against him. Bertholdt let out a moan that was so guttural, it startled him. "I bet you'd feel wonderful inside of me" You cooed. His face turned red and he turned his head away in embarassment. You captured his chin in your right hand, your left hand still palming him. "Look at me." You breathed out, "I want to see every expression you make." Bertholdt's eyebrows furrowed together with embarrassment as his lips parted involuntarily, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated rate. You couldn't help but mimic the mouth movements he was making, your mouth forming into various shapes as his did. "Keep eye contact with me." You breathed out. You were pushing down his boxers down, now, bringing them down to his upper thighs. Your eyes slid down to look at him. His dick was very clearly larger than average. Despite being long, it was fairly average in girth - cautioning on the skinnier side. It was only half-erect, pre-cum dripping from the tip, which seemed to fluster him even more. "I'm sor-" "Let me help" You interjected. Gently, you wrapped your hand around his cock - your hand gliding from the its base to the top. When your thumb gently rolled against the tip of his dick, his eyes practically rolled into the back of his head. He was wriggling and shimmying beneath you as you continued to stroke at his cock. "Good boy" Your purred. He wasn't sure what it was about good boy but something about it drove him wild. His fingers curled against the palms of his hands before stretching outwards. As you used your free hand to move some hair from his forehead, Bertholdt nervously reached his hand up, letting it hover over your breast. "Can I -" "You can touch me." Hesitantly, Bertholdt pushed the strap of your dress down underneath your breasts and let gripped at the flesh, the entirety of his hand covering your entire breast. Nervously, his index finger and thumb pinched and pulled at your nipple. You couldn't help but moan yourself. "you . . ." Bertholdt found himself growing more confident, ". . . like that?" "Christ -" You breathed out, "I want to ruin you -" His dick grew fully erect in your hand at your statement.

"I'm gonna -" With your free hand, you began to work your underwear off your body. Eager to help rid you of your panties, Bertholdt helped guide the fabric off of you as well. You guided the tip of his cock to your entrance, "Are you ready - don't want to back out or anything?" "Back out?!" Bertholdt exclaimed, almost desperate, "God, no - please don't stop - " That was confirmation enough for you. When you lowered yourself onto him, Bertholdt leaned his head back. The hand stuff? That was pretty great. But this? Being inside of her felt so good he was pretty sure he could base an entire religion around how fantastic your slick pussy felt around his hard dick. As you slid up and down against him, Bertholdt let out small whimpers and whines - his hands gripping at your hips almost desperately. "You're so pretty -" He whimpered out, "You feel so good - keep going . . . please." Bertholdt's whimpers only encouraged you to bounce up and down faster, the sounds of how slick and wet both of you were filling the car alongside his whimpers, moans, and pleas for you to keep going. His hips rolled upwards to meet your in a way that was clunky and awkward, but cute nonetheless. Your fingers curled around the side of his neck, gripping his flesh gently. Surprisingly, he found that he enjoyed the way your small hands curled around his neck. In many ways, it made him feel like a toy beneath you meant to be used for your pleasure only - and admittedly, he liked that. When you squeezed his neck gently, he couldn't help but sputter a bit. Soon, you found your fingers slipping into his mouth - his sliding and wrapping around the appendages, sucking on them without a second thought.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing everything in. The heavy high that kept him rooted on his back made it more excellent. As he continued to climb his high, his brain clouded by both pleasure and the extreme amounts of dopamine from his high, Bertholdt ran his hands over your body, pushing your dress further up your body. His heavy hand gripped at every bit of skin he could and you groaned as his hand ran up your abdomen.

"Sex while high feels like watching TV in 4K" You breathed out. He couldn't help but agree with and laugh at your comment. However, his laugh was swallowed by more moans as you began to pick up your pace, becoming more and more needy as you slid up and down his cock. "Smoking certainly does make most things b-better -" His statement was cut short as his body jutted dramatically "I'm -" He could feel a tingling sensation build up in his body, his legs beginning to twitch just a bit, "Close - are you -" Despite the immense amount of pleasure that was pooling in his body and his absolute inability to spit out a full, cohesive, sentences due to three of your fingers pressed into his mouth - he still found himself heavily concerned with your own pleasure. "Yeah -" Your choked out, feeling pleasure pool in your abdomen as the tip of his dick thrust into that perfect gummy spot inside of you. You dropped your head back, breathing heavy and accelerated as his thrusts upwards became sloppier and more desperate. As the smoke began to clear in the car, he finally reached his climax - his body tense as he came into you - spilling onto your thighs and the driver's seat of his car, which was now probably ruined. Shortly after, you reached your own orgasm - your wetness dribbling down his cock and dripping onto both your thighs and his own. There was a moment of awkward silence as you pulled yourself off of him and the two of you spend the next couple of minutes desperately trying to clean yourselves up. "That was -" You began. "Amazing." Bertholdt interrupted. "Yeah." You couldn't help but crack a smile. Bertholdt couldn't help but think to himself -

I can't believe I just lost my virginity in my Kia Soul.

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babbushka · 4 years ago

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For your Hanukkah special, would you please do something with the gift giving prompt with Flip, but make it really really sexy?? Thank you 🖤

Anonymous said: Please please please can you write about Flip helping the reader unwind after a stressful day. Nsfw please. I’ve had such a horrible day I need to find a way to relax💜

(1.2k, NSFW [PIV by the fireplace, praise kink, dom!Flip, clothed man + naked woman, come shot, jewelry kink (idk man it’s horny)])

The warmth of the house is a great welcome, when Flip comes home to you. He had been stuck out undercover on the last night of Hanukkah, which was something neither of you were happy about. But work was work, and he was getting so fucking close to busting this thing – he was on track to get it all finished up before the new year, and he was so looking forward to starting off ’75 with this cleared off his desk.

Normally you’re running right up to him with a big smile on your face, this time of year especially – so when you wrap your arms around him and he feels wetness on his neck from where your face shoves against him, a little sad shudder of a sob wracking through your chest, his heartrate spikes.

“Hey, no tears.” Flip frowns, mind already spiraling, trying to figure out what could have happened, what went wrong, what he has to fix.

He doesn’t give a shit what it is, he’s going to fix it.

“I’m sorry Flip I’m just so fucking stressed out and nothing was going right and – what are you hiding behind your back?” You get yourself all worked up, breath hitching as you pry yourself away from him, wondering why he isn’t hugging you the same way he usually does.

Flip had hoped to give you your final present with you in a more cheerful mood, but your eyes blink tears away when you look at him, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, this present might be exactly what you need.

“Just a little something for my favorite girl.” He murmurs softly, holding the small box out to you.

It’s teal and tied up in a white satin ribbon, and your eyes widen considerably because you recognize that design instantly. He gives you an eager little nod, and you pull the ribbon off the box right there in the foyer, letting it fall to the floor.

Cracking open the box, your hand flies up to your mouth as you gasp, revealing the diamond necklace.

“Oh Phil,” You can barely touch it, it sparkles so beautifully, catches the light so well and throws little rainbows all around, “It’s gorgeous.”

“Put it on.” Flip cups your cheek in one of his hands, leaning into kiss you. You kiss him back, and he whispers against your lips, “…And take everything else off.”

You aren’t sure you can wait to go all the way upstairs, so you quickly rush into the living room where the fire had been slowly rolling and warming the house. Flip follows the trail of your clothing as you strip and leave pieces of your outfit on the floor, until he finds you lounging on the big soft rug near the fire.

The diamonds catch the light perfectly as the necklace rests around your neck, and Flip thinks that he must be dreaming – surely you can’t be real, you’re too beautiful, a movie star.

“I’m gonna fuck the good mood back into you if it’s the last thing I do.” Flip announces, and that alone has you smiling at last.

You’re completely naked by the fire, and Flip is too hard in his pants to even take off his jacket, he has to fuck you and he has to do it now. So, he steps out of his boots and manhandles you onto your back, making you chuckle at his excitement, your hands yanking at his belt, undoing his fly.

Once his cock is free, he wastes no time nudging it between your legs, pulling apart your folds, making your legs fall apart and your hips rise as he slides and thrusts his cock in and out, your warm wet pussy calling him home.

Kissing you, he lets his hands wander up and down your body, and you let yourself be pleasured, letting him do all the work. Your arms are thrown over your head, and your breasts bounce for him as he speeds his hips up, as he works to get you more relaxed with each thrust, each drag of his cock against your tight walls.

“Flip please – harder, I can take it, I want it.” You moan, mouthing at the skin of your upper arm where it’s nestled against your face. Flip grabs at your jaw, tilts your head towards him and gives you a deep passionate kiss.

“You look so good honey-bunny, look so pretty with that around your fucking neck.” He praises, compliments you, tells you the truth, “You look like a million bucks.”

Each word is punctuated by the hard press of his hips, he’s bottomed out all the way inside you, and he grinds his cock against that spot he knows so well, the one that makes your toes curl and your nipples stiffen and your body break out into goosebumps.

“Oh – yesyesyes, Flip – yes!” You tangle your hands in the soft shag of the rug, holding on for dear life as Flip fucks you dumb, makes you forget all of your worries.

You barely remember your name, let alone what was bothering you, instead you’re reduced down to the ability to moan and hiccup out the pleasure that he gives.

“Push your tits together for me.” Flip demands, and you do, unable to really speak, but wanting to do well, wanting to make him feel as good as he always makes you feel. Your hands grab and squeeze and push at your breasts, creating the perfect amount of cleavage for him to bite and suck, “Just like that pretty girl, fuck you’re squeezing my cock so tight, damn that’s good.”

“Philly please, please!” You want to come, and so while he sucks on your nipple, he lowers a hand to your clit and rubs it in time with his thrusts, until your legs kick out in little tremors underneath Flip’s tight hold, and you’re coming coming coming on his cock.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you, here move a little – right there, perfect, you’re so perfect.” Flip manhandles you, body gone limp in your little shocks of pleasure, and he’s close to coming too, “Fuck – fuck ketsl.”

He pulls out just in time, and shuffles up your body on his knees to let thick white ropes splatter all over your breasts, shooting up onto your chin and neck, getting a mess all over those diamonds. The sight makes Flip keen over, his legs and arms starting to turn to jelly, the debauchery of getting his sticky come all over your brand new necklace.

He flops down onto the rug next to you, heart beating fast, and he regrets not getting naked before fucking you. It’s way too hot by the fire, and he’s sweating, but you’re grinning and reaching for him, and that matters more.

“Feeling any better?” Flip asks, pinching at your chin, your nose.

“Mhm, thank you honey.” You beam up at him, the worries of the day long behind you now.

“Anything for my girl. Like I said,” Flip kisses you, sweetly and gently, petting your hair back, “No tears on Hanukkah.”

Well, he thinks as he wipes a thumb over your eyelids to collect the nears of overstimulation, pleasure and bliss -- no sad ones, anyway.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman fluff #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman fanfic #adam driver fanfic #adam driver character #adcu #Anonymous #cowboy answers

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i-did · 4 years ago

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HELLO 👋 I WAS SENT HERE BY PALMETT-HOES. What are your thoughts on the foxes + tattoos?? Originally it was Neil + tattoos but if you have thoughts of the other foxes too I'd love to hear them if you want to share 🥺

Okay, so I actually might try to become a tattoo artist and love tattoo culture. I also have already about 30 tattoos, some the size of my whole hand and some the size of a quarter, a lot of mixed and matched stuff. I also always try to think of the foxes in their timeline, so 2006-2007 era, and when I think said foxes would get tattoos in their life and why.

NEIL

First off: I personally HC Neil has keloid scarring and a lot of scarring so tattooing is hard on his skin. I have a friend who has more scars than I've ever seen on anyone else IRL before and we both love tattoos but even with him trying to prep the artist, unless they were a scar micropigmentation expert, they usually underestimated how hard it was going to be to tattoo on his skin. It's uneven and dense and doesn’t hold ink well. His non-scarred skin faired a lot better but his skin was something artists just weren't prepared for. I might get some micropigmentation on some skin grafts I got to even out the coloring and make it look more “natural” but I’m waiting to see if the pigment will settle and heal more first.

I personally don't see Neil ever getting a tattoo, and this bums a lot of people out lmao. I think his scars are too thick and too raised and it's too cosmetic and aesthetic centric for it to be something on his radar. On his skin that isn't touched by scars I think he would want to leave as be mostly out of neutrality. I don't see Neil as the type of sentimental tattooer, I see him thinking “well if it matters to me I remember it” sort of and him wanting to keep the really deep stuff personal just for himself and even another person putting it on him is someone else there. I think if he were ever to get a tattoo, he would be like… idk it would be the kind that says “yes I got shot, stop asking” over a bullet hole scar or like that one guy whos missing his leg and above it there's a tattoo that says “one foot in the grave” that's the only type of tattoo I can see Neil doing and even still I'm not convinced he would do it.

ANDREW

I don't ever see Andrew covering up his scars with tattoos either. I think he likes how the armbands can come on and off and be fully covered to not at all. He's not ashamed of them but he's private, and I think the tattoos could seem like he's trying to hide them when he's not-it's just nobody's business. I think if he were to get anything it would be American-traditional, it ages well, its classic, and doesn't really go out of style. Before the…. Let's say 80s, there weren't the different tattoo “styles” like there are today. It was just… tattoos in America. There was Japanese-style tattooing and then American-style tattooing, and since tattooing started curating its underground culture in the ’50s in America… those circles did not blend. They do now, but they sure as hell didn't then. So I could see Andrew with American-traditional because it's classic and I could see it appealing to him, but I could also see Russian prison tattoo style black-work something that appeals to him too. Get him some gulag tats. However if he had those, and since I currently HC him as white and with a buzzed or grown-out messy buzzed head, he would deadass look like a fuckin skinhead so... yeah lmao. Overall I don't see Andrew getting tattoos really, but if he would, American-traditional seems fitting.

KEVIN

Okay, so Kevin out here looking like a MF SoundCloud rapper with his single face tat and nothing else going on. I know it might be OOC but since his mom is Irish and I HC his dad as Maori (even tho in the canon Wymack likely has 90s new age tribalism, which is a complicated issue but instead I choose culturally significant tattoos over the tattoo trend that was largely popularized by a movie lmao anyways-).

So I think Kevin is the only one who dives into tattoo culture and bonds over it with his dad. If he just has the chess piece, it still feels like a branding, like a mark so distinct against the rest of him, but one full sleeve of Celtic knots and symbols and the other arm full of Maori's distinct tattoos of swirls and symbols could be a cool way for him to reclaim his own skin and have it not be something he did just to cover something up, but make tattooing something connecting him to his cultures and family.

NICKY

Nicky is the guy who got like, fierce, or pride, or something like that tattooed if he got a tattoo. I see Nicky getting a pride tattoo of some kind maybe and it being calligraphy or like if Nicky/Erik is a bear then he gets a bear paw. I could also see him getting his and Erik’s wedding date tattooed somewhere. I also don't see him as the type who didn't know how much research and shit goes into finding the artist for you, and kinda assumes you can go to just anyone and just walk in and then was like “wait what” when he couldn’t (or couldn't if he wanted to get exactly what he had in mind) so he probably got/gets tattooed by some non-homophobic apprentice, maybe even that apprentices first tattoo, and also since Nicky is Mexican and darker-skinned I doubt he thinks to put on sunscreen and the sun makes his ink lines bleed and so it doesn't age the best (it be like that).

ALLISON

Got a trendy tramp stamp to like, really stick it to her parents. Right on her lower back I bet it's the classic 2000s swirls and a butterfly and some of those stars, idk what they're called. If she was a young 20-year-old now tho she totally would have gotten a fine line tattoo, like not a tight three, a real 1 needle tattoo. They were seen as really nice back then and “so Cali” and like I could see /maybe/ her getting it done before she's 30 but they were not that common yet and like micro-realism is so new we still kinda don't know how it's going to age at all since tattoos before it have been designed they way they have for aging. Again if she got a micro-realism/single needle tattoo tho it would be something kinda basic like a butterfly or like a lion. I swear I've seen the same google image lion tattooed on a lotta people and like IDC it's your skin. But yeah, she gets the classic 2000s swirl butterfly and stars tattoo above her crack one night, maybe after a really bad phone call with her parents and she got drunk and pissed off. Maybe someone said she couldn't take the pain. (which btw, tattoos don’t hurt as much as they make them out to be in shows and shit, they can hurt tho)

DAN

I HC Dan as very dark-skinned, she's 75% black and 25% Sioux and grew up in a very very white area when outside her home on the res. Tattoo culture is still really sexist and really colorist, and at this point in history I think if she ever did want a tattoo, she maybe asked vaguely about it and they flat out said “I don't know how to tattoo on black skin” or “it doesn't go with my art” which… are shithole excuses and I think she thought, “well fuck u too” and never thought about it much since then.

RENEE

I HC as Renee as darker-skinned than Dan, and like the only places she could possibly get tattooed are maybe her palms, the bottoms of her feet, or her inner mouth probably. Some people genuinely are so dark that tattooing is hard, because it's based on the concept of black ink on a lighter surface, which is why scarification catches on in cultures where the skin is too dark to pigment with ink effectively. However, the idea of fuckin, 15-year-old Renee who is still Natalie with “PU$$Y” tattooed in her mouth kinda sends me. I think lil kid Renee thought she was gangster, and tbh she was, and I could see her getting some “fuck you/in your face” tattoo, especially if she was a lesbian in such a homophobic world, getting that tattooed is even better. We also know she got her back tatted in the EC with angel wings that look almost closer to dragon wings, so I imagine they show up as almost raised dark lines like scars from the untrained tattoo artist going way too deep, making it a cross between a tattoo and scarification, even if accidental. (also white ink really wasn't a thing yet and even now is still kinda hard to tell how it will heal, so that's why I don't think she gets any white ink tats)

MATT

He's a rich boy from NYC, he could really get like… whatever he wants. Once he's famous he can afford it that's for sure, but even before then he could with his allowance similar to Allison (even if on a completely different level). However, I doubt he gets anything lol. He's not particularly religious in my HC and doesn't have the same sense of being lost like I feel Kevin does with his own parents (I mean Kevin was raised like an orphan, kinda so it makes sense). I need to develop Matt’s background further on what it means to him personally to be a Filipino-American. I have several ideas about how his parents met in the Philippines and then came here but I would need to flesh out locations and then local cultures and then his parents said opinions on tattoos and then how matt would react to said opinions. I could see him possibly getting something for dan or his kids tattooed on. Which really makes me want to have him get his first kid's name tattooed really big or intricate somewhere like on his chest over his heart and then his kid comes out as trans and he's like “...fuck” lmao and gets it removed maybe and then redone or something. I see him viewing tattoos are personal and symbolic, and if he would get something it would probably be family-oriented, possibly Dan's portrait or like his baby's footprint which I've seen before.

AARON & SETH

Stick and pokes were not nearly as common then as they are now, and I feel like people kinda have to remember how taboo tattooing was then and still is now in a lot of cultures. My family is Not happy lmaoo. But it is what it is. Stick and Pokes were not a thing bored white middle-class teens did like I see them doing now. It was seen as super sketchy and I know someone who was 16 getting tattooed in a garage by someone who was both drunk and just out of prison for the first time, and that was seen as sketchy as stick and pokes at the time. I could imagine either Seth or Aaron having a failed and fucked up stick and poke tattoo, and out of the two of them, Seth seems like the drunk tat guy. Maybe once he got drunk and mad as fuck after Allison and him broke up and she said he didn't seem serious enough so he got her name drunkenly tattooed on his arm or something and then she was even more pissed because it was spelled wrong “YOU FORGOT THE SECOND L OMFG SETH.” (I can also imagine his future girlfriends don't love it lmao). I also love the idea of Seth just having Marvin the Martian or the Tasmanian Devil tattooed on his ass.

Anyways sorry for the lack of pictures but I didn't want to do that... so I didn't. I didn't go into niche tattoo culture and history like I was expecting myself to but this also got fuckin long. Might not be what you were hoping for at all but it is my current opinion on the foxes and tattoos. (This is also surprisingly free of my own personal aesthetic opinions on tattoos and that I'm kinda proud of ngl, since my preference is none of these, but also I grew up in a very different tattoo time than them)

#aftg #all for the game #ask #mailob #fig writes

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tronnyboyo · 4 years ago

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Bad Idea #921331231

THE REAL DADS OF HEARTLAND CITY

6 dads. One city.

Byron, rich, handsome single dad with a bunch of people interested in marrying him. He’s super sweet and holds the group together.

Kazuma, the hot, happily married dad who likes to go on adventures. A man’s man.

Papa Kamishiro, the entitled fashion model dad who is unhappily married and is kind of a jerk

Don Thousand, proud single dad of seven, running a successful business. In truth, he just wants his kids to be happy.

Eliphas, the wealthy suburban white helicopter dad but alien

and...Faker. idk. Just Faker. Everyone says they hate him and don’t get why he’s on the show but they always come back for him because surprisingly it’s him that causes the most drama.

Byron: I’m proud of all my children. Christopher is a world famous astrophysicist and has had his works published in various journals and currently, Michael is interning with the British Institute of Anthropological Studies for his freshmen year at Cambridge...Oh. And Thomas! He’s a world famous duel Champion. I love all two—three of my children.

Kazuma: Hey! I’m happily married to my wife and we love going on adventures. Whenever I am home, I like to invite the other dads plus Faker to a barbecue and show them how it’s actually done.

Papa Kamishiro: (A bunch of black and white shots of various parts of his body, then goes to his face) Yes, my name is Regée Kamishiro. I’m a model for Ralph Lauren. You may have seen me on Heartland Vogue a few times. My marriage is falling apart and I have a mistress

Don Thousand: (filing his nails and has a Jersey accent) Hello dawlings, I’m a proud papa o’ 7. As you know, I’m a pawht time fashion designer of the DK brand, y’know, we got a whole season on Barian World’s Next Top Model. Awesome brand promo, delicious juicy fashuns and la dee dah. Oh and I’m also a pawt time chaos deity.

Eliphas: Greetings earthlings, I am Eliphas the Radiant, Father of Astral World and its Holy Guardian, Defender of the Darkness and—

DK: WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY WE GET IT

Eliphas: (Sighs) Since our worlds merged, I’ve become roommates with Don Thousand. As a father of one, Don’s ideas about raising children are so...out there. I’m just here, wanting to send my child Astral to the best planets and universes to complete their mission as the warrior of Astral World. Signing them up for all the extracurriculars, dance classes, choir, Astral Dictatorship Junior classes...I just...I just want my child to be happy.

DK: LET YOUR KID RUN FREE AND DISCOVER WHO THEY ARE INSTEAD OF SHOE-HORNING IN EVERYTHING UNDER THE DAMN SUN

Eliphas: BETTER THEN LETTING MY KID RUN AROUND NAKED IN THE STREETS! YOUR CHILD DURBE, ESPECIALLY, IS OBSCENE TO LOOK AT. (Back to camera) Anyways, it’s hard being a single dad.

And...finally...we got Dr. Faker.

Dr. Faker: Uh...hey. I’m a single father of two but (awkward finger guns) I’m looking for a special someone who will love these boys as much I do. Maybe even more. Uhm...I run this city. Like, I micromanage it. Sort of...? It’s pretty cool. I’m called the genius of the century and I build robots in my spare time.

(You can hear a distant voice off camera.)

...Ah. Really? Do I have to? It doesn’t make me look so great—

Director’s voice: Trust me dude, you’re at the bottom of the barrel already

Faker: (sighs) Fine. A few of the dads have beef with me because I maaaaay have thrown a few of them down a cliff once...It was to save my son, okay?!

#zexal #shitpost #dr faker #kazuma tsukumo #byron arclight #don thousand #eliphas #astral zexal #papa kamishiro #Writing from iris #cursed content #thomas arclight #michael arclight #christopher arclight #cannot unhear jersey DK after trickbuster's iconic performance ins BWNTM

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blackwoolncrown · 5 years ago

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So the thing about Onlyfans is like...

I was around when it and its competitor were created and knew about the motive and all and at that point it was kidn of a big deal bc some of the money behind the push was all ‘sex workers creating stuff for sex workers’ (LOL nt way) but like...

idk this is going to be messir than most of my posts bc I just don’t care to translate this into civvie talk but no mainstream anything is ever going to help sex workers get agency bc IMO the entire approach is completely counter to how sex work works, what it is, and how a sex worker can best sell it.

Sex work isn’t fucking breakfast cereal. It is not best sold in bright sterile storefronts, row upon row of similar yet slightly varied faux-diversity that puts us all ‘one click away’ from the clientele.

I’ve always held this opinion that sites need to replicate the boudoir experience. If someone wants a sex worker or our content, whatever, they WILL go and find it as long as they know what channels there are. The more they push a homogenized sense of putting us all ‘out there’ lined up in the open the more it kills interest and drive and forces the performers to compete with each other for front page attention.

Any site that actually wants to give success and agency to SWs needs to replicate virtually the best IRL sex work experience. And that’s not gonna be a white and blue version of a red-light window district with us all put on display for ‘Free’ (I’m looking at every single fucking ‘free’ vidchat site here, ugh) nor is it going to be lining us up from ‘most mainstream appeal’ to least and paying us that way like we’re in some cheap brothel.

It’s going to be more like in/outcall.

While a platform has a huge audience that allows models who can crack its algorithms or meet its branding best to make bank, it doesn’t respond well to individual branding and disadvantages anyone who doesn’t meet the brand image. The issue with platforms, again, is that if you are on a platform, the more ‘platformy’ and streamlined the UI is, the more that UI takes over any possible branding the model can have.

If you’re on OF right now, you’re an OF model. That’s your brand. You can have a flavor under that but OF is your brand, OFs site layout and color scheme dominates and DICTATES how you are viewed. OF IS your brand and it owns your brand. You don’t exist outside of it unless you’re smart and eventually drag your core audience off of it and onto your own private site.

And with more and more sites leaning towards the silicon valley capitalist strealined format of hyperwhite sterile UIs, it homogenizes models down to an expectation. You are constantly competing for the users’ attention bc sites like this-- IWC is another good example, but pretty much every clip site is now using this model-- is NOT made to make YOU money it is made to make ITSELF the most money.

This is why they don’t want to give you a custom drop page, which would make a ‘space’ for you to define yourself, your brand feel, and prime your customers to YOU-- doing so would minimize the amount of browsing a user does on the site, so to fix that they not only keep you from being able to add a sense of personality to your page they advertise *other models* on the same page at the bottom. That takes attention away from your content but do they care as long as the site makes the sale? Meanwhile it doesn’t matter what you’ve learned about site design, or branding bc you’re hardly allowed to describe or present yourself layout wise bc again, that would skew the branding to being about you and not the platform and the site would have to allow you the resources to do so. Older sites used to let you do this, either through HTML or just giving you paletttes/fonts to choose from. But none of that now bc we’re just meat lined up to make some fucker in CA rich.

This is also why, if you are a SW and haven’t already: YOU NEED TO MAKE YOUR OWN SITE. First of all p much every site will do some sheisty shit at some point and you may not want to rely on them. The site may go down. The traffic may go bust. And lastly clients WILL google your name and guess what comes up? If you don’t have a site, it will be stolen content of you. If you DO have a site it will be your site ...and stolen content of you. Your choice. Many clients will go to your site and pay you-- but they won’t do that if the site isn’t there.

All in all I was never really happy about OF and while I’m always looking for different places to peddle my stuff the direction of these sites with these hideous impersonal UIs irks me deeply bc it’s a great example of hypercapitalistic ‘efficiency’ robbing sex work of any shred of personality and intimacy it has-- which is a good portion of its value-- and grinding it down to low dollar high sale profit machines for some rando in silicon valley while models sell their content way under value just to get audience exposure that in turn just exposes them to more and more cheapasses who wanted more T&A on their TL and expect the best quality content for the lowest fucking price.

#SW

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kim-seungmine · 5 years ago

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the time is now

title: the time is now

characters: (fem) reader x kim seungmin of stray kids (feat. choi lia of itzy, lee felix + bang chan of stray kids)

genres: romance, rich kid au, friends to lovers au, (sort of!) mafia au, dedicating this to 191109 seungmin & levanter era!seungmin

word count: 7.9k

warnings: alcohol consumption, violence (nothing too wild tho), i haven’t proofread, idk what im doing tbh (but seungmin drives an aston martin i hope that makes you feel better)

synopsis: you and seungmin spent years pushing each other away, only to be confronted by your biggest fears when you finally decided to stop running away.

a/n: i hope this doesn’t suck :(((

Summer is for fun. Summer is for rest. Summer is for romance.

But summer is also for opportunities, and that’s the sole reason why you’re standing inside the Laura Ryu boutique—where you can’t even afford its cheapest pair of earrings. The luxury fashion brand is open for internships for the very first time and now it’s one of those “a million girls would kill for that job” positions in South Korea.

“Good morning, everyone.”

The sweet but regal voice belongs to Julia Choi, Laura Ryu’s daughter who’s specifically flew back from New York to Seoul for the summer to help her mother managing the internship. You know her better as Choi Jisu, your childhood friend who’s currently attending Parsons School of Design.

“I’m Choi Jisu, and I’m going to be your mentor throughout the internship. Well, technically I’m responsible for all of you here so please, stay in one piece until the end of summer although it’s going to be absolute hell, okay?”

Everyone laughs, and soon you’re ushered to one big studio inside. You see a placard with your name on one of the table and quickly head there, giving Jisu a little wave as she tells the other interns to find their stations.

After all the interns are seated, Jisu claps, effectively silencing everyone. “And now, something to motivate you,” she announces. “We’re going to monitor every single one of you and by the end of summer, we’re going to choose one intern to help with our next collection. How’s that sound?”

Excited whispers are heard all over the room, and you hope you’ll survive summer in one piece.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Jisu is running down the stairs, her heels making loud clacking sounds against the marble floor. She envelops you in a tight hug the moment you’re within an arm’s reach. You’ve missed Jisu, it feels like it’s been ages since you volunteered at the animal shelter together.

“I can’t believe you actually applied!” she chirps.

You chuckle. “Well, I can’t believe I actually got in.”

Jisu snorts. “Oh please. I don’t need to see your portfolio to know how amazing it is. You’re probably the only one who sent a proper portfolio.”

She greets the shopkeepers, leading you outside. “Are you free? Let’s catch up!” she offers. You nod, linking your arm with hers. “What do you want to do? Coffee?”

“O—”

A white Aston Martin pulls over in front of you, causing Jisu to gasp and check her watch. The window rolls down, revealing an annoyed Kim Seungmin on the driver’s seat. “Yah Choi Jisu,” he snaps. “I know I’m just your insignificant cousin, but couldn’t you at least tell me that you were going to be at your Mom’s boutique the whole day?”

“Oh shoot, sorry Seungmin! I totally forgot,” Jisu panics, turning to you with apologetic eyes. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “Go. You’re stuck with me for the whole summer anyways.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m not gonna leave you behind. Seungmin, you don’t mind if I bring Y/N along, do you?”

Yeah, Kim Seungmin. Someone from your “summer is for romance” phase two years ago. You’re well aware that you’re an intern at his aunt’s boutique, but you thought you wouldn’t meet him since he’s set to take over his father’s law firm instead of becoming the heir of Laura Ryu’s fashion empire.

“It’s fine,” you refuse. “We can hang out some other time, Jisu. You two have fun!”

“Come with us,” Seungmin interjects, calmly as usual. Two years of not seeing him in flesh has weakened your defense. Seungmin has always looked fine, but now he looks ten times hotter with his dirty blond hair and you’re cursing yourself for being so shallow. Jisu shrugs, opening the door and pulling you inside.

Seungmin glances at the empty passenger seat then at the rear-view mirror. “So where are we headed, Young Mistresses?” he asks, his tone both sarcastic and playful.

“We were going to grab some coffee. Just stop by at the first Starbucks you see,” Jisu answers before attacking you with questions. Seungmin mumbles an, “Okay Miss” before making a u-turn. You feel all eyes are on you when you enter the café, suddenly realizing that you just stepped out of Kim Seungmin’s Aston Martin with Choi Jisu attached to your side.

For a split second, you forgot that you’re hanging out with South Korea’s top socialites who are way too cool for Starbucks.

After getting your orders, the three of you are chatting about every little thing. “And how is our little Byul? Has she been adopted?”

You and Seungmin exchange awkward glances, causing Jisu to cock an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“I didn’t go to the shelter last year,” you confess.

“Me neither,” Seungmin mumbles, sipping his Americano in a haste.

“Okay, neither of you went to the shelter last year, so what? What are you guys being so weird about?”

“Nothing,” you and Seungmin answer in unison. Jisu examines your face and snaps her fingers, seeming to get the idea. “Well, if that’s the case… why don’t you two talk things out?”

“Wait what happened to catching up?” you panic, while Seungmin grabs his cup and stands up. “I should drive you home,” he says.

Jisu clicks her tongue. “Sit down, both of you.”

You and Seungmin do as told, begging her with your eyes to save yourselves from this situation. “As you said, Y/N, we’re stuck together for the whole summer so we still have a lot of time. And no thank you, dear cousin. I’ll just take the cab. See you!”

Your friend smiles at you one last time before walking out, stopping the first cab she can find. You turn to Seungmin, finally letting yourself indulge in his pretty eyes that only seem to warm up whenever you’re around. Contrary to popular belief, there’s nothing special about Kim Seungmin except for the fact that he’s a straight-As law student, looks both adorable and hot, and is actually a sweet, humble boy despite being filthy rich.

Okay, you’re definitely not over him.

Seungmin clears his throat. “So, how’s the internship so far?”

“It was only my first day,” you answer. “We didn’t do much yet. The real fight starts tomorrow, I guess.”

“You’re in good hands. Jisu handles everything well, and her Mom won’t even show up until the last day so you’re going to have fun.”

You laugh. “But one of the interns is going to be included in the team in charge of the next collection so I suppose your aunt will appear once in a while, right?”

“She’ll be in Paris the whole summer,” Seungmin explains. “Jisu begged her to let her handle the program because she misses home, and here we are now.”

“How about you? Been doing fine, I guess?”

The little spark in Seungmin’s eyes fades at your question. He stands up, returning your puzzled gaze with a cold one. “Let me take you home.”

“You don’t need to,” you retort, slightly offended. “Seungmin, did I say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” he denies. “Please let me take you home. Jisu will kill me if I leave you alone here.”

You’re not satisfied with his answer, but decide to follow him. Seungmin enters the driver’s seat and starts the engine, heading to your neighbourhood without a word. “You still remember where I live?” you ask.

“I’m a law student Y/N. I can remember a lot of things.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. This is probably the only thing you hate about Seungmin: he shuts down everyone the moment he shows a hint of weakness. “Seungmin… are you okay?” you try again. “I’m not getting off until I get a proper answer.”

Jisu once told you that everyone in their big family sees a therapist every month; you know for sure that Seungmin must be their favorite patient because they get paid a fortune for counselling a very good boy who answers everything with positive words.

Seungmin is a strong, positive guy, but not all the time. People tend to forget that. He tends to forget that.

Looking at how tense he is, you decide to drop the subject. “How’s Chan and Felix?” you ask while scrolling through your Instagram feed, looking at a photo of the said boys posing in front of their luxury cars.

Seungmin’s eyes soften at the mention of his best friends. “Aren’t you the one who go to the same university?” he questions endearingly.

Christopher Bang and Felix Lee were your classmates in Fashion Journalism—a class which Felix signed up for by mistake. He tried to have it erased from his timetable, but changed his mind when he realized that everyone in that class was girls. Soon, his best bro Chris Bang joined him and when they found out you were friends with Seungmin and Jisu too, they wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Yeah, but everytime I want to say hi they’re always surrounded by their friends.”

“You mean Seo Changbin, Lee Minho and Yang Jeongin?”

You nod. Seungmin laughs, slowing down his pace as he reaches your neighbourhood. “Just say hi. Those guys are harmless.”

“Easy for you to say,” you scoff. “Seo Changbin radiates this ‘you can’t sit with us’ vibes stronger than those girls in Mean Girls.”

“I mean it,” he repeats. “Just say hi. Felix calls you all the time anyways. You’re a part of their so-called circle.”

“You mean your circle?” you correct him jokingly, unfastening your seatbelt as he smoothly hits the brake in front of your house. “Thank you for taking me home.”

Seungmin smiles your favorite smile, the one where his eyes disappear into crescent moons. The door is opened, yet you’re just sitting there, trying to look for answers inside Seungmin’s doe eyes.

“What is it?”

You chew your bottom lip, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

Your Golden Retriever puppy named Sun died when you were in fifth grade. You couldn’t function for the rest of summer, so your Dad suggested that you volunteer at an animal shelter. You eventually registered for a 2-week volunteer program where you fell in love with a lively Pomeranian you ended up adopting and a lovely boy named Kim Seungmin.

You and Seungmin went to different schools (he attended an elite all-boys school), the volunteer program was the only time you could meet him. He brought his cousin Choi Jisu the next year, and it became a routine for the three of you from then on. Your beautiful friendship was perfect until your 18th birthday, when Seungmin gifted you a box full of photos of you he had taken as your birthday present.

After 8 years, you finally realized that Kim Seungmin wasn’t just a friend you volunteered with. He was the one you played hide and seek with, he was the one who taught you to use a camera, he was the one who sang to you when you cried after one of the dogs in the shelter got sick.

“Have I ever told you that I love your voice?” you asked him on one Sunday morning, right before you turned 20. “You could be a singer.”

“No, but thank you. You said it right when I started doubting myself.”

“This is not an empty compliment, Seungmin. I’m serious.”

Seungmin ruffled your hair, eyes lighting up at your seriousness. “You never say empty words, Y/N. I know that.”

After a few minutes of trying to find the right response and not finding any, you decided to let his compliment hang in the air. You laid beside him, keeping a safe distance because hearing him breathe so peacefully was enough to mess up your insides.

Seungmin turned to you, and for a while he just stayed like that, quietly examining your face while you were on the verge of freaking out.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t change his position, eyes still locked on your face as he whispered, “I asked myself that too, but I honestly don’t know. I just hope I can see you like this forever. Seeing you makes me happy.”

Speechless, you didn’t dare to meet his eyes. How were you supposed to react? Was Seungmin drunk?

“Seriously,” you croaked to break the silence. “You should audition to become an idol or something.”

“Should I?”

“Well, depends whether you want it or not, but go ahead if you want! You have nothing to lose anyways!”

His lips curled into a sad smile. “Nothing to lose? Y/N, money isn’t the only thing I have.”

Whenever you started to feel that maybe you and Seungmin could become something more, the universe always made sure to remind you that he wasn’t just a boy you grew up with. He was the only son of a successful lawyer who rode limousine to school and owned a black credit card he used without thinking. He appeared on nation’s newspaper after attending exclusive parties you could only dream of going. He was someone who flew to London with private jet over the weekend because he wanted to take some photos.

You laughed, locking eyes with him without realizing. “But with your money you can have everything, Seungmin. You and Jisu are different from the rest of us.”

Ten years of friendship and you never once talked about this. You knew Seungmin wouldn’t mind; he wasn’t the type who liked to flaunt his wealth, but he wasn’t one of those people who didn’t like to be reminded of how loaded they were. He never cared. But you were afraid he would think that you did, so you always avoided making comparisons.

That day, you had to do it. Maybe you were too protective of yourself, but you couldn’t risk getting hurt. One little slash on your heart, and the wound would leave a permanent scar.

Seungmin hummed in agreement, breaking the eye contact to look at the clear sky.

He left the shelter the next day, and you never talked to him again.

“Jisuuuu,” you whine as Jisu pulls you into Rose’s, a fancy bar that she frequents. “I thought we were just going to hang out!”

“We are!” Jisu exclaims, waving at the bartender before choosing a spot. She orders you a drink you’re not familiar with before pouting at you. “Okay, sorry for not telling you, but we’re not gonna hang out alone today.”

The door opens, revealing Chan and Felix. The latter immediately throws his arms around you, and you can’t help but break into an endearing laugh. “Y/N!!!! Why is it so hard to meet you? Don’t you miss your expensive friends?!”

You pull away from his grip. “Excuse me, but since when your socialite agenda includes your humble friend right here?”

Felix pouts, ordering a glass of Dry Martini while Chan and Jisu are whispering among themselves. You scoot closer to them. “What are you guys whispering about?”

The three of them snicker at the same time and you figure this isn’t just the usual “hanging out” session.

You turn to Chan. “Bang Chan, spill.”

“Wow, hearing someone that’s not my parents calling me Bang Chan is so refreshing,” Chan says. “It’s like having 2 personalities. Christopher is this hot, alluring, seductive man no one ever says no to, while Bang Chan is his inner child—soft, caring, funny… but still hot—”

Jisu shoots Chan a deathly glare before smiling at you. “You like Seungmin, don’t you?”

You take a sip of your drink and let her question sink in. Looking at your friends’ faces, you know that it wasn’t even a question. They feel it, and there’s no use of denying your feelings anymore.

“And that’s all we need to know!” Chan exclaims, standing up from his seat. He slips in a few dollars into the bartender’s pocket. “Seungmin doesn’t know we were here.”

Felix slaps his shoulder. “Bro you were literally the one who told him to come here. Stop trying to be cool.”

“Ah… you’re right,” Chan answers as Jisu rolls her eyes. “But anyways, Seungmin is will be here soon. Talk to him, okay?”

After waving them goodbye, you glance at your surroundings. Everyone is chatting with their friends while sipping their drinks happily; they’re in their natural habitat, while you’re just sitting there hoping Seungmin will come soon so you can get out of there as soon as possible. The bartender notices your uneasiness and offers you another drink to try.

Just as you start contemplating to leave, Seungmin enters the bar. He gives you a small wave when his eyes land on you, like it’s natural to see you there. The bartender serves 2 glasses of drinks before Seungmin even reaches you, “Gin and tonic, Mr. Kim’s favorite.”

Taking off his suit, Seungmin sits beside you and sips his drink. “When Chan kept terrorizing me to get here ASAP I know something’s up,” he says, examining your face. “… and you want to leave.”

Without waiting for your answer, Seungmin takes his coat. “Put it on my tab,” he tells the bartender, putting his hand on the small of your back and leads you out.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks after you’re sitting inside his car. “For real this time.”

He sounds apologetic, hurt and hopeful all at once and you recall everything you said to him two years ago. Those words left a deep scar in your heart, you can only imagine how broken Seungmin must have been.

“Yeah, we do need to talk.”

You never want to allow yourself to feel insecure, but the voices in your head get wild sometimes. You hate to admit it, the same way Seungmin hates to admit that he’s not always the calm and strong heir everyone expects him to be.

The only way to tune out those voices is to visit the park near your house to play on the swings

Seungmin has rolled up his sleeves so he could help you push the swings. You try to look over your shoulder. “Kim Seungmin what are you doing? Push it harder!” you demand, to which he shakes his head.

He continues to push the swings gently, still allowing you to feel the cold wind on your face. “No,” he answers firmly. “You’ll get sick.”

Knowing you can’t change his mind, you just let him set the pace, and soon your heart starts to feel lighter. The voices get muffled by Seungmin’s low humming. You have a lot of explaining to do, yet he hasn’t said anything, not even telling you to smile a little. This time you’re not sure if it’s because of the swings or Seungmin or both, but the voices are almost gone now and you decide that’s enough for tonight.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper quietly. Seungmin stops pushing, letting the swings moves by itself before coming to a halt. He kneels down in front of you, a frown on his face. “Why? What did you do?”

“Two years ago… I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you sigh. “I’m sorry I did it like that. And I’m sorry for pestering you the other day. I don’t have any right to force you to tell me things.”

Seungmin heaves a sigh, grabbing your hand to stop you from fiddling with your shirt. He slowly laces his fingers with yours, the warmth of his eyes reminding you of the old happy days when the two of you would sneak out from the shelter to have a picnic under the clear sky. “And I shouldn’t have left,” he reminds you. You only stare into each other’s eyes until he blurts out, “Can we start over?”

You almost cry at how easy and right it feels. You spent years of your adolescent life telling yourself that this wouldn’t work, the wall you built to protect your heart was destroyed by the very person you built it for. But you find it impossible to lie when he’s looking at you with so much hope and adoration. When you finally nod, Seungmin rewards you with his toothy grin that always makes your insides flip.

The voices in your head shout out warnings at you, but you quickly shut all of them down. You’re not going to let them win. You’re not going to let them stop you from loving the only boy you want to love.

“Let’s take things slow, yeah?”

Seungmin beams at your words, pulling you up to envelop you in his arms. He waits until you relax before tightening his hold. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, breathing him in as he mouths words you can’t decipher into your hair. “Remember when you managed to persuade that young couple to adopt Vivi?”

“My lucky day,” you murmur, unconsciously pulling him closer to you.

“It was my lucky day too.”

“Of course it was! The owner also bought you chicken when Jisu and I were the ones working hard! You just nodded along with us!”

Seungmin chuckles. “I got to hold you for the first time that day. You were so happy that Vivi got a new home that you just jumped into my arms. Then you started crying and ruined my Balenciaga shirt, but I was beyond happy. You stayed in my arms until you fell asleep, and I got to watch you sleep.”

You pinch his waist softly. “You’re such a creep.”

Seungmin’s laugh only makes you feel even giddier than you already are, so you just close your eyes and relish in the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist securely. “Shall we go to Jeju tomorrow?” he suggests.

“Jeju?”

He pulls away, enough for him to see your face but still holding you close. “Yeah. I can book us tickets so we can fly tomorrow and spend the whole weekend there. You don’t have internships on weekends, right? We’ll go to pretty places and I’ll take hundreds of pretty photos of you. We can have dinner by the beach since our villa is facing the ocean. You love seafood, right? Our chefs—”

“Kim Seungmin, what happened to taking things slow?” you giggle, causing him to let out a cute frustrated groan. “I’m sorry. How about a road trip to Busan then?”

“You can drive to Busan?”

“You’re underestimating me, love.”

Seungmin’s phone rings when you’re about to utter a sassy remark. He glances at the caller and releases you, his eyes turn cold as he accepts the call. “Yes, father?”

You can’t hear what his father is saying, but whatever it is, Seungmin doesn’t look happy. You reach for his hand carefully, and he quickly squeezes yours while responding to his father in a polite, business-like manner. He walks you to your house, telling his father that he’ll be home soon.

Seungmin pulls you into his arms again as soon as he slides his phone into his pocket. “Duty calls?”

“Mhm,” he replies. “As you can see, I had a meeting today, and Father wants updates.”

“He already involves you in meetings? That’s cool!”

“Nah, I can’t voice out any opinion yet. I’m just there to listen.”

Seungmin detaches himself from you, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “So, I’ll pick you up at 6?”

You nod, not even bothering to protest that it’s too early because you want to see him again soon. Seungmin enters his car and starts the engine. He rolls down the window, grinning when he sees you wave at him. The phone call must have bothered him, but you decided to let it slide. “Text me when you get home,” you tell him.

Take things slow. You have to take things slow.

Not only does Seungmin know how to drive to Busan (while looking extremely attractive behind the wheels), he also knows Busan like the back of his palm. He took you to all the pretty places and took pretty photos of you as promised. Now you’re at the balcony of the Kim family villa (you figure they have apartments and villas scattered in the whole country), nestled in Seungmin’s arms while waiting for the sun to set.

“Wait, sit over there!” Seungmin forces you to move from your spot to the end of the couch. “The angle is pretty!” He snaps a few photos with his newest Leica camera that’s worth a car. You give him your silliest poses before bursting into a fit of giggles. Seungmin puts the camera on the coffee table and pulls you back to him. “Enough photos for today,” he mutters, settling you on his lap. Seungmin never struck you as someone who loves skinship, but he never misses a chance to wrap you in his arms, and you’re not complaining. He probably feels the same blissful comfort you feel whenever the two of you touch.

The sun begins to set, and for a while you focus your gaze on the sky, admiring the way the sun paints it with shades of orange. Seungmin shifts underneath you, pressing a kiss on your exposed shoulder to earn your attention. You meet his eyes, and you see a tinge of worry in them. “What is it?”

Seungmin takes an awfully long time to answer your question, causing you to cup his face. “Tell me.”

“Do you trust me?”

The question has you frowning. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

Seungmin smiles, but the tinge of worry is still reflected through his orbs. “Whatever happens, I’ll try my best to make this work, okay? I’ll do anything to make this work. I want you in my life, more than you can imagine.”

“Seungmin—”

“There will be days when I’ll be away for meetings, there will be days when I’ll feel like absolute shit because of my Father and the business,” he reveals. “Sometimes it will feel like I’m keeping you in the dark and I know you won’t like that, but there are so many things I need to sort out now, and I can’t tell you anything yet. Is that okay?”

You can’t base your relationship on not-knowing! You can’t base your relationship on excuses and blind faith!

“Is it too much if I ask you not to let me wait for too long?”

Seungmin shakes his head so fast you wonder if it hurts his neck. “You know how smart I am,” he boasts. “Trust me, you’ll be amazed at how good I am in getting things done.”

“You better be, there are a lot of people waiting for your help, Lawyer Kim.”

Your boyfriend chuckles. “Speaking of getting things done, I have a request for you.”

“Request?”

“There’s this masked ball held by Chan’s Dad next month, and we’re all attending. I’ve been looking for a nice mask, but everything seems mediocre. Will you design one for me?”

You squeal, immediately attacking him in a tight hug. You’ve always wanted to design jewelries, including masks. The mere thought of buying the materials, matching the design according to Seungmin’s style and drawing all the pretty details launch you to cloud 9 in an instant.

“I guess you like it,” Seungmin singsongs. “I have one more request though.”

You tilt your head in excitement.

“I want you to be my date.”

Your smile falters, but Seungmin tug at your lips softly, gesturing at you to smile again. “Everyone will wear a mask and you’ll only take it off at midnight, so we can leave before midnight if you want. Besides, I’m just a guest. All eyes will be on Chan.”

“But what kind of dress am I supposed to wear? Everyone will—”

“Aren’t you a designer? You’ve sewed a lot of dresses, wear one of them.”

“But they’re not from designer brands, aren’t you ashamed?”

“I don’t care,” Seungmin tells you in the most caring tone. “You’re you, not Julia Choi. Not Felix Lee. Not Christopher Bang. And you’re not me.”

Flashbacks from your painful conversation two years ago come in a flash, but now both of you are looking at it from a whole different perspective. Your smile slowly returns, and Seungmin huffs a sigh of relief. “That’s my girl.”

“Can I tell you something too?”

He nods.

“There will be days when I’ll feel like I’ll never be good enough to succeed in anything,” you begin, biting your lip to prevent tears from falling. “I don’t let myself dwell on it most of the time, but sometimes I fail. Is that okay?”

Seungmin cradles your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll knock some sense into you whenever you’re about to drown in self-pity!”

You pat his head in return, hoping that this Seungmin—the one whose eyes radiate sunshine and voice laced with honey, the one whose laugh sounds like a sweet melody—will be the Seungmin he shows to the rest of the world more.

Seungmin is still cradling your face, gaze flickering to your lips every now and then, triggering you to do glance at his lips in return. The pull is too tempting, you wonder if you should just crash your lips on his or let him decide for you.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he whispers, barely audible. Your eyes flutter close, and Seungmin doesn’t waste any time. His lips meet yours in a fleeting kiss, making your breath hitch at how soft and burning his lips feel. Seungmin kisses you deeply, taking his time to savor you and you’re going insane at the way he clutches your waist, the way he hums everytime you pull him closer. It’s almost too much, yet at the same you know he’s still holding back as if he’s afraid that this is all just a fever dream.

“Seungmin, please.”

“Mhmm?” he tries to speak against your lips, hazy eyes gazing into yours.

“More,” you breathe out, determined to make him let go and kiss you the way he wishes to although you’re blushing like mad. “I’m not going anywhere, so just kiss me.”

“You sure?” he mutters, eyes waiting for your approval.

You close your eyes again, and right that moment you feel Seungmin’s lips move against yours. This time, he lets go. Hovering over you, he pours all the feelings he had suppressed for years into the kiss. You’re soon lost in all the love and passion he has for you, his every touch eating your skin alive. You’re lost in Seungmin, Seungmin, Seungmin and you hope he knows you feel the same.

“Stay still!” you yelp, fixing Seungmin’s mask as the limousine stops in front of the ballroom where the party is held. Mr. Song, Seungmin’s chauffeur, opens the door for both of you. You start to panic upon seeing reporters snapping photos of other guests entering the ballroom. Seungmin steps out, looking like His Royal Highness from a reputable kingdom.

He extends his hand to you. “Come on, love. Jisu and the others are already inside.”

The sound of shutters and the blinding flashes almost make you shut the door and tell Mr. Song to drive you home, but Seungmin reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. “I’m here. You’ll be alright.”

Gathering some courage, you finally set your foot on the ground. Seungmin helps you with a gentle smile he knows will calm you down. He leads you inside, holding your hand a little tighter whenever someone seems to make you uncomfortable.

You spot Jisu from the gold feathery mask she showed you the night before and her signature high ponytail. A redheaded boy joined her with a drink in his hand, and you know for sure that it’s Felix. Everything at this party is grand, and by grand you mean people with diamond-studded dresses, a huge orchestra group, extravagant chandeliers, ice statues, and all kinds of foods and drinks you know absolutely nothing about.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks, releasing your hand to take a slice of chocolate cake that the waiter offers before handing it to you. Jisu squeals at the cake, taking the same cake from the waiter. You look at her in awe as she digs in right away. “How do you eat that at a place like this?” you hiss, earning a laugh from Felix.

“We’re here to enjoy ourselves, darling. Eat up!” he encourages you. You turn to Seungmin, who gives you a spoon. “Why? You love chocolate.”

You take a glance of everyone around you, nobody is eating. They’re either dancing or laughing or drinking. “Do you guys usually eat? Or are you doing this to make me comfortable?”

“We’re not some dukes and duchess Y/N. Wait, even dukes and duchess eat at parties. Shut up and enjoy your cake!” Jisu deadpans with a full mouth, causing you to laugh and do the same. Seungmin keeps his hand on the small of your back all the time, making sure you’re okay. After finishing your cake, he pulls you to the dance floor.

“No Seungmin, I’m not dancing with you,” you yell at him. Seungmin pretends not to hear you, his eyes glint with mischief. He puts your arms around his neck, then his own around your waist. You thank the heavens for the slow music because the last time you danced was in the second grade. Seungmin leads the dance, slowly backing you into a corner and pushes his mask up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“Been dying to do that.” He smirks at you as you glare at him, thankful that the mask is hiding your flushed cheeks. “Thank you for going with me. I know this isn’t your thing,” he adds, twirling you smoothly.

You scoff playfully, caressing his left cheek. “If you’re thankful, ride subway with me for the whole week.”

“Easy,” Seungmin, bringing your hand to his lips. “Your wish is my command, you know that, right?”

“All you need is tux and mask to become all flirty, huh? Did you dream to be a Disney prince?”

Seungmin shrugs, pulling you closer so you can rest your chin on his shoulder. The song comes to an end, switching to a more upbeat one when Seungmin’s phone vibrates. Though reluctantly, he takes the call and walks you to the water fountain near the salad bar.

“I’m at Mr. Bang’s party,” he says. “But Father—okay.”

The call ends just like that. Seungmin curses under his breath, wordlessly taking you back to where Jisu and Felix are standing. “I need to go now,” he breaks the news.

“Dude, you just arrived!” Felix protests.

“It’s my father,” Seungmin informs dryly. The redhead’s eyes become softer, and Jisu dismisses her cousin. “Don’t make him wait,” she urges him. “We’ll take care of Y/N. Who knows, she may find someone cooler than you.”

Seungmin looks at you with so much guilt, so you give him your most convincing smile. “Go. You can tell me about it later.”

After giving you one last “I’m sorry” look, he disappears into the crowd.

Felix cheers when the orchestra plays a song he knows. “Ohhh I love this song! Come on Y/N, time to rock the dance floor!”

As you’re about to pull Jisu along with you, Mr. Song walks toward you. He stops, bowing at the three of you. “Miss Y/N, Young Master asked me to take you.”

“Why? I thought Seungmin is meeting his father?”

“He does have some things to take care of, and you’ve been requested to join him.”

You glance at Jisu and Felix who tense at Mr. Song’s news. “Is this bad? What happened?” you try to ask, but Mr. Song only waits for you.

“It’s okay.” Felix rubs your shoulders. “Go with him.”

You nod. “See you guys later.”

Mr. Song guides you out like he knows the building by heart. Once you’re back inside the limousine, he enters the driver’s seat. “Is everything alright, Mr. Song?”

The old man smiles. “Young Master Seungmin is a very nice boy. He has clear goals and works hard to achieve them. And he wants to make you, especially, happy.”

He stops in front of an abandoned warehouse. You open the door before he does, taking off your heels while he holds the door for you. “Just give him a chance,” he says.

You quicken your pace when you hear someone scream. Peeking inside, you spot at least 10 men dressed in all-black surrounding a man who’s sitting on a chair, his hands tied and eyes blindfolded. Blood oozing from several parts of his body, his face completely bruised.

You look back to where Mr. Song is, but he only gestures at you to come inside. You slide the door a bit more to squeeze yourself in, looking up when you hear a familiar voice.

It’s Seungmin, swinging a baseball bat in his hand, his dress shirt stained with blood. “This will be the last time I ask you,” he hisses, sounding nothing like the Seungmin you know. “Tell me where the Hwangs’ secret hideout is. If not, I’m afraid I’ll have to change my weapon with something more impactful.”

One of the men hands him a gun. Seungmin takes it to the hostage, loading it near his ear. “I-I’ll tell you! Please spare me!”

The hostage goes on to provide all information that Seungmin needs. He swings his bat once again, hitting the hostage’s waist before throwing it again. You’re frozen to your spot, the whole event unfolding right before you feels like a stab on your heart. Seungmin runs his hand through his disheveled hair, then notices you standing there.

“What the fuck Y/N what are you doing here?!” he yells, voice shaky and raspy. Seungmin quickly turns around to his people, pointing at the hostage who’s lost his consciousness. “Take him away,” he commands lowly. “You’re all dismissed.”

The men drag the hostage’s body and leave the place quietly. Now, it’s just you and him facing each other. Seungmin is about to take your hand in his, but decides to stop himself when he realizes that they’re covered in blood.

“Did Mr. Song drive you here?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your body shakes as you involuntary recall how Seungmin beat the hostage up. The look in his eyes, his emotionless voice, the way he swung his bat without hesitation.

“What are you, Kim Seungmin?” you quiver, taking a step further from him. You need to get out, you need to be anywhere but here. You need something, anything that can make you forget what you just witnessed.

“Please,” Seungmin pleads. “Please Y/N. I’ll tell you everything. Please listen to me.”

“This is what you’ve been trying to hide from me? The fact that you torture people to get what you want?!”

Seungmin eventually grabs your hands, begging you to look at him. “I’m looking for other ways, love,” he utters. “But for now I have to do whatever my father says. His words are law, but I’ve vowed to myself that it won’t be like this for too long. I’ll stop him.”

You swat his hands away. “For years you made me think that we couldn’t be together because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, that no matter what I did I would never be good enough, that I would never be able to fit in. It turns out you’re just saving yourself, aren’t you Kim Seungmin? You only care about yourself!”

“How am I supposed to tell you that this is me, Y/N? How am I supposed to tell you that this is how my family lives? Would you—,” he pauses, wiping his tear-stained cheeks. “Would you even spare me a glance if you knew that I’m no better than a murderer?!”

“That’s up to me to decide!” you shout. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, Seungmin, but you didn’t even give me a choice in the first place!”

When he runs out of words to say, you force your body to turn around, exiting the warehouse with your last bit of strength left. Mr. Song is waiting for you, your heels ready for you to wear. You slip into them, refusing to look into his eyes when he offers you help.

You feel Seungmin’s eyes on you as you walk away. Even after what happened, you can’t help but return his gaze. He looks broken and lost—on other days, you would have run to him and took him into your arms.

But now is not the time, no matter how desperate you are for answers. You turn on your heels, your heart shattering into pieces as you remember the question Seungmin asked you in Busan.

“Do you trust me?”

Jisu’s maid pushes a trolley full of snacks and drinks into her room. You politely refuse everything, but your friend pours herself a glass of champagne, chugging it down in one go. She lets out a dejected sigh once the maid leaves the room, glancing at you warily.

“I’m so, sorry Y/N,” she whispers. “I can’t believe his father did that to you.”

“Did he really send me there so I could see Seungmin like that? And you knew about this?”

“I didn’t!” Jisu exclaims. “I mean, I do get the gist what his father does, but I never knew it was that bad. And I didn’t know he asked Seungmin to do all the dirty deeds himself. That man and his greed.”

Jisu sits beside you. “The way Seungmin’s family runs the law firm changed since his father took over,” she explains. “I guess this is why he wins every single case now. He does literally everything to win, and he expects Seungmin to do things his way later.”

“Has Seungmin ever told you this?”

“No,” she mumbles. “I know Seungmin’s been stressed high school, but I never knew this was the reason. He’s seeing his therapist almost every day, Y/N. I thought you would help him and vice versa. I know the two of you have liked each other since forever. I’m sorry.”

You wrap your arms around her. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to us. You, Felix, Chan… you guys are my everything.”

“How about Seungmin?” Jisu starts sobbing. “I’ll respect your decision whatever it is, but what are you going to do now?”

You try to clear your mind, imagining how you and Seungmin will be if you live without each other. Will you be able to bear the unimaginable pain? Will he?

“Jisu, do you know if Seungmin’s parents are home?”

“No, they’re in Paris with my Mom.”

“Then can you drive me to his place?”

The Kim family butler takes you to Seungmin’s bedroom. He knocks the door, waiting for a while before opening it when nobody answers. The big room is empty, but the attic ladder is pulled down. “Young Master likes to spend his time in the attic. He probably fell asleep there,” the butler says.

You nod, thanking him before climbing up. The attic is neat and warm, with Seungmin’s photos decorating the walls. Several dog plushies are placed on a small wooden rack, while some get special spots near his mattress.

You lie down beside him, taking a good look of his sleeping form. He’s no longer covered in blood (which definitely makes things easier for you), and his steady breathing calms you down within seconds. You wonder how it feels like having to sacrifice everything in order to have everything. You think about how Seungmin wakes up in fear everyday, waiting for his father’s cruel orders.

“Y/N?”

Seungmin blinks at you, squinting to make sure that it’s really you. “Hi. Your butler let me in.”

He scrambles to get up, but you stop him. “Lie down. You must be tired.”

You scoot closer to him, feeling his body tense up when you circle your arms around his torso. “You can tell me everything now.”

Seungmin begins his story, explaining how his father never says no to clients, no matter how impossible their cases are to win. He often works with his clients to eliminate everyone in their way, using any methods possible. When Seungmin started high school, his father told him to watch how the law firm worked, and eventually forced him to do things by himself so he would “toughen up” and “understand how business works.”

“Mr. Song has been helping me form plans to end this. He’s Father’s most trusted person, so he knows everything. I still do fact checks, of course. I’m trying to be as careful as possible. I’m trying to take down my own father, and if I take even a step wrong, it’ll be over for Mother and I.”

You sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you pat his back softly. Seungmin keeps his hands to his side the whole time, afraid to cross the line although you’re glued to him.

“Father has ears everywhere Y/N. He probably knows how serious I am with you and wanted to test you. I’m sorry you had to see all of that.”

“Test me?”

“Yeah. Whoever decides to stay with me after knowing everything will earn his approval.”

“Has anybody else gone through that?”

“No,” he answers. “Believe it or not, you’re my first girlfriend.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Believe it or not? Of course I do, it’s obvious that you had no dating experience!”

“Y/N,” he calls out. “You’re here to say goodbye, right?”

Seungmin has pulled you away, sitting up and waiting for you to do the same. “It’s okay. If I were you, I’d be so disgusted at myself too. Don’t think about me, just think about what’s best for you.”

“You never… killed anyone, right?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll never do that. You have my words.”

“I trust you, Seungmin,” you state. “I asked myself again and again, but my answer remains the same. You’re not a bad person and I trust you. I know you by heart, and I’ll love you as long as I can.”

You wish you could promise only boy you’ve ever loved an eternal love—it sounds beautiful, something that lasts forever. But you know better than to give Seungmin empty promises. He’ll probably break your heart if life doesn’t allow him to change his world, but you’re willing to take the risk.

Seungmin releases the breath he seemed to be holding for the past few minutes. “That’s my girl,” he praises. “That’s all I could ask for.”

“Let’s only think about now, okay? You’re not alone anymore, you have me.”

You cup his cheeks and capture him in a loving kiss, basking in the warmth of his body when he scoops you into his arms. Seungmin’s gestures still feel hesitant, but you convince him with every kiss, with every sweet word you utter against his lips until he finally melts and kisses you harder, each kiss more ardent than before.

“You’re never lacking in my eyes, don’t forget that,” Seungmin tells you, enunciating each word clearly so you’ll let it sink in. “You’ve always been more than enough. Everything I could ask for.”

You only grin, pecking his swollen lips one more time before allowing yourself to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat.

Both of you let your own images of the future loom over you for so long, feeding yourselves with doubt and fear.

Now it’s time to let go.

more a/n: i spent a long time writing this, i hope this is still good and not boring! i’m happy that my first story in 2020 is for seungmin. the ending is somewhat bittersweet, but it was the only option that felt right to me.

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plasticpartslove · 4 years ago

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Zibits Documentation? (2010′s toy)

I recently remembered a toy from a while ago that I have fond memories of. However, upon searching for them online, I found that little information exists on them other than a bunch of long defunct shop pages and obscure YouTube videos. So, without further ado...

Zibits! - “Control your world”.

I retrieved a few of these adorable dust-bitten bots from what they probably assumed was their permanent resting place to get documented.

Here’s the little bean! This is what I assume is the basic, or rather ‘bog-standard’ Zibit. According to an older review from ‘toysaretools.com’ (You can read that article here) Its name is ‘Flux’. The first thing I noticed about all of my new-old robot crew was that all their batteries were still working, which isn’t bad for a 10 year old toy! (At least, this was the case for ones that did have batteries in them.) On the topic of batteries, the Zibit itself runs on 3 LR44 (coin) batteries, while the remote requires 2 AAA batteries. A hassle to get your hands on, but considering these things haven’t given up for 10 years (admittedly, not of constant use) I don’t think its a bad investment!

Now, the second thing I noticed was that Flux has none of this screws, only being held together by friction. For for the disassembly, I will be using a robot with the same mould, also known as the copper chap from the first photo.

This process should be an absolute walk in the park. Regardless, I am somewhat trying to make a documentation. The Zibit pictured stands around 5.7 cm tall. The battery compartment’s screw is held into the cover piece, so I won’t worry about treating it as a screw and instead I’ll just think of is as a single part, along with the plastic its attached to. Now, shift your attention to those two little screws at the bottom. The heads of these screws are 4 mm wide and so is the head of the screwdriver I'm using to remove them. This same screwdriver will be perfectly sufficient to undo the battery cover. Go ahead and remove the battery compartment cover to reveal all the holding screws.

You can now see all 3 screws that will need removing. The most difficult part of this entire process will be putting that central screw underneath the spring back in place, so I recommend having some way to magnetise your screwdriver. Although, for me, the mere act of removing the screw magnetises the screwdriver. Anyway, go ahead and get them out.

All 3 screws are the same length, your only worry is losing these tiny things.

Now, carefully pull apart the front and back half of the Zibit. The little robot splits in half directly down its side!

Presto!

You can now see all of the core components of a Zibit.

This is what I’ve taken to calling the ‘drive shaft’ of the Zibit. Of course, it is not a drive shaft, and doesn’t even resemble one. Anyway, that is what makes the Zibit move. It is universal to all Zibits.

The visor can also be removed.

Alas, this is as far as we can really go into our exploration of the Zibit. I do however have a bunch of trivia both from memory and from research that I also want to put on this post.

Zibits of the same mould all operate on the same infrared frequency. This means they can respond to each others remotes. Though, this isn’t very useful if you want to operate them at the same time.

Zibits arms are somewhat pliable.

Some don’t have a screw inside their battery compartment, instead they have it in the back of their head.

The one with the transparent head splits down the middle, however the dome is a separate piece.

Now, I do need to reveal my ulterior motive. Before any of this, I wanted to try and find a list showing each Zibit so I could see what ones existed. However, I don’t think such a list exists. All website links I’ve scavenged are defunct, and the only image I did find lists the names of ‘series 1.5′.

(In case you cant read this:

Sion/Bendix/Rev/Bash/Termanis/Shift/Dinc/Spex/Epsilon/Tank/Go-B/Shox)

Not only does each one have a name, but they also have a description of their personality. Here’s a much nicer image:

I bring this up not only because I like the aesthetic of 2000′s graphic design, but because its sort-of* makes this lost media, and I think that's kinda cool.

(*in fairness, I’ve only searched around for the best part of like 5 minutes.)

However, while looking around, I think I’m starting to piece together why Zibits only lasted around 2 years. Most articles I’ve read seem to talk about how cute these little guys are. However, in the future...

??? Idk, I just don't like these other designs. I think this guy specifically feels kinda cheep to me because of their fake tracks.

This lump’s almost complete lack of printing feels a bit lazy.

Woah... Ok fine, this ones a cutie.

This demon is singlehandedly responsible for the death of the brand and I will not forgive them.

Hang on, but seriously. What caused the demise of the Zibits? What other, popular scamp runs around on a series of roads and hubs you construct? What's more, this opponent brand must have come into existence sometime around 2010...

Ah.

Perhaps some things are just meant to be.

#Zibits #Robot #Toy #2010's #Retro #Retro??? Is to me lol

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dreamgirl4certain · 5 years ago

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The Elevator Bae

SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

Erik Stevens x Black OC (Phoenix)

A/N: Just some cute shit here. | Song lyrics referenced are not my own. They are from a song by MILA J x Me and You. **I will be referencing lyrics from her music in the future. I picture her style of music when Phoenix’s is writing music. And I barely did any proofreading so my bad from the bottom of my heart.

Word Count: eh, idk. a lot.

***************************************

“I missed you so fucking much, baby girl.”

“I missed you too, E.” Phoenix huffed between words. Erik’s heavy figure above hers. His head rested in the crook of her neck as he placed wet kisses on her skin. She dug her fingertips into his back as he stroked her slow and deep. Her eyes stuck shut, moan trapped in her throat when she felt a vibration under her body. Where is this coming from?

Phoenix’s body jerked up and she looked around, realizing she was on her couch. It was dark out now and her tv screen paused with Netflix asking if she was still there. Her phone was ringing under her. That’s when it all hit her. She was dreaming. This was the third night in a row that dreamt of him. Three dreams, night after night of Erik doing all of the right things to her. Why is this happening to her?

Erik had been gone for ten days. The first few days, she poured herself into her work. She set up her equipment in her living room and did the best that could. remixing beats she already had and doing some writing. But has the days went on, she found herself thinking about Erik more and more. Thinking about how good he felt when she kissed him. Missing him, but she did everything but actually admit that to herself. She started watching Naruto because it was his favorite show, but she told herself it was because Netflix suggested it. She went out and bought two cases of Merinelli’s Apple Juice. But of course, not because he liked it, but because she ‘enjoyed the juice of apples.’ She told herself that he probably wasn’t even thinking about her. He’ll probably come back and not even bother talking to her again. Two weeks was more than enough time for him to realize that she wasn’t it and she should just prepare herself now, for that.

None of it worked, though she refused to accept the truth that she missed Erik. It ate her up inside that she couldn’t talk to him. He stayed in her mind constantly. She hated to like it.

“This is ridiculous.” She said to herself as she felt under her legs for her phone.

One missed call from Coby. She swiped the notification, selecting Call Back. When he answered, she could hear nothing but pure joy in his voice.

“PHILLY!” he yelled into the phone.

“Hey!” She pulled the phone away from her face and put it on speaker phone.

“My studio is done.”

Phoenix sat up, snatching the phone, bringing it closer to her face. “What! Say swear!”

“I swear. It’s finally done. You gotta come break it in.”

Coby had been working on building a studio in his home. Fully equipt. He promised that when it was done, she’d be the first person he called and she would be the first to record something in it. Before Phoenix could even express her excitement, Ava had taken over the phone call.

“Yeah, Philly. You might as well pack you a bag or three and come on.”

“A bag? Fuck she need a bag for?” Coby says.

“So she won’t have to leave. You know damn well y’all are about to be living in that damn room.”

“Bet!” Phoenix said. “I’m on my way.”

“Yay! We’re having a sleepover!” Ava yells into the phone. “See you when you get here.”

Phoenix ends the call. She rushes into her room to pack some clothes. She may or may not have packed enough to practically move in. She stuffed as much as she could in her giant Victoria Secret PINK duffle. Along with her face and hair products. She looked around to make sure she had everything. Her laptop was on the floor. She could NOT leave without that. She put it in her backpack with its charger and an extra phone charger and headed out the door. She texted Ava.

Phoenix: Be there in 20 minutes.

-------

Coby’s studio was her dream studio. It was huge. As soon as she walked in, purple lights glowed along the bottom of the soundproof glass that separated them from the recording booth. Coby turned on the lights that revealed all black decor and dark, hardwood floors. Phoenix walked in stroking her fingertips along the new equipment. Ava came in, sitting on the couch.

“You peep that?” Ava says, pointing to something inside of the recording booth. Phoenix goes inside to see. She looks up to see a huge black and white picture of her and Coby from when they were in the studio some time ago. One of Coby’s photographer friends had stopped by and took a few cool shots of them. Coby has the picture enlarged on a canvas and placed on the wall inside of the recording booth.

“Oh my gosh, Coby!” she grabbed his arms, shaking him.

Seeing her jump with joy, brought on the biggest smile that man has ever worn. “You like it?”

“I love it! What made you pick this one?”

“Well, we’re a team now, remember? I figured it was only right to put up a picture of me and my partner.”

“Aww… we haven’t come up with a cool name yet though.”

“We’ll figure that out in due time. But you like everything?”

“YES!”

Coby showed her around to look at everything that he had installed. Of course Phoenix’s favorite part was the fully stocked mini fridge and weed cabinet that held all of their smoking necessities. Phoenix wouldn’t be quiet about how proud of him she was. He had been working on this studio for months. He designed the entire thing himself.

They immediately got to work. Phoenix was so excited about the studio, and to be with her friends, she finally got her mind off of Erik… for now. She was able to zone into her work. They created their first beat from scratch in the new space. Just as Ava had predicted, once Phoenix and Coby were in the studio, they were there for the rest of the night. After a few hours, Ava left them and went to bed. It was well into the next morning before the two of them had fallen asleep in the studio. They refused to leave.

--------

The next afternoon, Phoenix enjoyed a hot shower and co-washed her hair. She lotioned up with her favorite vanilla shea butter. She moisturized her hair and washed her face. She put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Just as she was applying some chapstick, Ava facetimes her.

“Morning!” Ava cheerfully says into the phone.

“Morning, love.”

“Get down here. I made food. I wanna see you before I leave out.”

“Where you goin’?” Phoenix says as she starts walking out of her chosen guest room to meet Ava and Coby down in the kitchen.

“I have a brand meeting.”

“Alright. I’m coming down the stairs.”

Ava ends the facetime call. Phoenix walks down the large staircase and through the hallway. She can see Coby sitting at the kitchen table. She joins him. They share a look before both breaking into smiles.

“You want eggs?” Ava asks Phoenix from the stove.

“Sure.”

Ava brings Phoenix a full plate of food. Phoenix pours herself some cranberry juice, mixing it with orange juice. Coby watches her mix the two drinks with furrowed brows. “Why do you that? That’s weird.”

“It’s delicious actually.” she takes a sip. “You should try it.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

The three of them sit and eat their food. Ava asked them about what they created in the studio and the way their faces lit up was enough to let her know they had a great session, breaking in the new studio. They played her the song they made. As the beat broke through the speaker, Phoenix’s voice rides the beat effortlessly. Ava squealed in excitement, hearing her friend singing.

Just me and you // nobody gon' break this up, this magic My nigga, my babe, nobody comes before me and you Numero uno, you know you my baby What had these bitches off of you lately?

“You sound so good!” Ava says. “You should drop this yourself.”

“I told her ass last night, that she should drop some music.” Coby adds.

Phoenix shakes her head. “Y’all crazy. Ain’t nobody trying to hear me sing.”

“You’re crazy! You telling me that you’ve never thought about releasing some of those songs you have locked away? You have a pretty voice, Philly. I think people would love you.”

“It’s crossed my mind, but I’m good.”

Ava rolled her eyes at her. Coby checks the time on his phone. “You better get out of here before you’re late. Traffic probably already crazy.” Ava takes one last sip of her drink. She gets up from the table, picking up her dishes and taking them to the sink.

“Don’t worry about those. I got it.” Coby says.

Ava leaves her dishes and starts out of the kitchen. “I’ll see y’all in a couple hours.”

Coby listened out to hear the front door open and close. As soon as he did, he looks at Phoenix. She’s so into her food, that she didn’t notice at first. When she did, she locked eyes with him and they stared at each other until one of them blinked first. Phoenix’s eyes couldn’t take it and she blinked. “Fuck!”

“I don’t know why you think you can beat me.”

“Nobody should be able to go that long without blinking. Something is wrong with you.”

Coby continues to stare at her as she eats. As he watches her, he notices that she checks her phone every few seconds. She’s not usually the type to be so caught up with her phone. She checks it again, this time, locking it and flipping it over.

“What’s up with you?” he asks.

“Hm? What are you talking about?”

“You keep checking your phone. You expecting a call or something?”

“No.” she says quickly.

Coby smirks. “You waiting on Erik to text you?”

Her face drops and she rolls her eyes, trying to avoid looking in his direction. “No. I was-- I was just checking the time.”

Coby notices the change in her demeanor and the protector in him activates. “What happened? That nigga do something?” His words came out slightly louder than how he was talking before. They were stern.

“No,” she waves him off. “Nothing happened. I haven’t even talked to him.”

“Why not?”

Phoenix looks at him in disbelief. She feels like she’s getting grilled by her Mom. “He’s away right now… for work.”

“And he can’t talk to you? What the fuck do he do?”

Phoenix isn’t getting out of this conversation so she surrenders and figures she’d just answer Coby’s questions. She sits her fork down and leaned back in her chair. “He’s in the Navy. He had to leave for two weeks.” she says, figuring it was the safest answer. She can’t be telling people he’s hired to take people out.

“Hm. When did he leave?”

“Last Tuesday.”

“You must have gave that nigga some good-bye pussy or something.”

“Wha-- No!”

‘Then why you actin’ weird?” Coby tries to catch Phoenix’s eye to see if she’s lying. She avoids him by looking off at nothing in the kitchen.

“I’m not acting weird. You are. Asking me all of these damn questions.” she snapped.

“You are acting weird. I’m just trying to make sure you good and I don’t have to kill that nigga. I bring his name up and you get all tense and shit.”

Phoenix doesn’t respond. She looks down and picks at her fingers. Coby patiently waits for her to give him something. When she doesn’t, he tries to push a little more. Phoenix is good for keeping things locked in. But not on his watch.

“Aye,” she looks at him. “Talk to me. What’s the problem?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Phoenix.” his voice was stern.

“I think I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Coby leaned onto the table, all ears.

“I- I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this.” He motioned for her to go on. “I’ve only ever been with one person and that clearly didn’t end well, and-- I don’t really want to allow someone to hurt me again.”

“That’s not fair Phoenix.”

“What’s not fair?”

“Erik isn’t your ex. It’s not fair to hold what that lame ass nigga did against him. You have to let that shit go.”

Phoenix looked away at nothing again. She knew he was right.

“Aye…” Coby tapped the table. Phoenix looks at him. “I’ma tell you this, but keep it between me and you.” Phoenix agrees with a nod. “My ex, she wasn’t shit. Fucked around on me with half the niggas in the industry. We were supposed to get married and everything but I called off all that shit when I found out what she was out here doing. Everybody knew but me.”

“Wait!” Phoenix interjected with wide eyes. “You were gonna get married, Coby?”

He kissed his teeth. “Yeah man. That was a few years ago and it has nothing to do with my point.”

Phoenix through her hands up in surrender.

“Anyways… as I was saying. I was done dirty but I didn’t let that shit stop me from going after Ava. I still found it in me to care about somebody. I treat her crazy ass like the queen that she is because that hurt shit is the past. Ava is my fresh start and clearly Erik is yours.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It’s all in the music, Phoenix. I’m not stupid. I can always tell what you’re feeling based off what you write. You like Erik. Just let the shit happen.”

Phoenix nods. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you were engaged.” she says, trying to steer the conversation away from her and her alleged feelings for Erik.

Coby stands up from the table, picking up their plates. “Happened before I met you. Don’t like talking about it.”

He washed their plates and pans on the stove. Phoenix got up and started walking out. “I’ll be in the studio.”

-----------

The next few days, anxiety filled up in Phoenix. She counted the days down until Erik came back. She continued her stay at Coby’s with him and Ava to distract herself as much as she could. Erik’s return day came and went with no sign of him. He hadn’t texted her. She figured he would. But maybe he was tired and just wanted to rest. She was so confused about how she should feel. But when two more days passed and still no text from him, she figured she would take this ‘L’ like a champ and move on. She didn’t want to talk about it with Coby or Ava and she had lost her desire to make music. It would all be about Erik anyway. She didn’t want to do that to herself.

Phoenix stood over the bed in the guest room that she had rightfully deemed her room and packed up all of her stuff. Ava sat on the bed, watching her.

“You should just move in, Philly. Then we can all be together, all the time.” Ava says.

“You don’t even live here!” They hear Coby yell from his room, down the hall.

“Ain’t nobody even talking to you!” Ava yells back. Her and Phoenix share a look before laughing. “He be killing me, not minding his business.”

“But, speaking of you not living here. When was the last time you went home?” Phoenix asked.

Ava looked up to the ceiling in thought. “It’s been a couple weeks. I should probably go back though. I’m sure the food in my fridge is done for and I definitely need to wash some clothes.”

“Ew, A!” Phoenix laughs. She just shrugs. “Welp… I’m all packed up.”

Ava gives Phoenix a very dramatic sad face. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Relax, love.” Phoenix places a petty hand on Ava’s shoulder. “A couple more weeks and we’ll be ass out on a beach.”

“Yes and then right after that… it’s your birthday.” Ava pokes her in her sides between words, tickling her.

“Stop! No need to be extra. It’s not that big of a deal.” Phoenix throws on her hoodie and slip her feet into her sneakers.

“You bet not say you don’t wanna do anything, because we’re doing something for your birthday.”

“Y’all can’t do it here!” Coby yells.

“SHUT UP!” “BE QUIET!” they yell back. Both rolling their eyes. Why was he listening so damn hard?

Phoenix goes down to Coby’s room where he’s playing 2k and she says her goodbyes to him. She tries to kiss him on the cheek and snaps back, away from her. “Gone with all that shit, Philly. Don’t you see I’m in a game?”

“This game can’t be that damn important if your ear hustling on what me and Ava talking about.”

“Nah, y’all niggas were just loud. Which is why y’all need to get out my house.”

Ava storms into the room. “Fuck you! I ain’t going nowhere.” She smacks him in the back of the head, making him pause the game.

“Don’t be putting your little ass hands on me. You can get ya’ shit and leave with your friend.”

Ava leans down to his ear and whispers something to him that makes his eyebrows raise up into his hairline. He clears his throat. “You know what… you can stay, bae.” He looks to Phoenix, “I love you, Phoenix, but you have to go now. This was fun. It really was, but Ava will show you to the door.”

Phoenix is disgusted. “Y’all are gross. I’m out.” She turns on her heels, heading back into the guest room for her bags. Ava follows her downstairs and walks her out.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” Ava gives Phoenix one of those long, auntie hugs. Back rubs and all.

-----

Phoenix sat at a red light when her phone started ringing over the speakers. When she looked to see who it was, she almost choked on her spit. It was Erik. He was facetiming her. He’s never actually called her before, let alone facetime. They only talked in person or text. Her palms become sweaty at a new record speed. She wiped her hand on her hoodie and hit the green button to answer. The street lights lit her face up enough for him to see her. She looked down into the phone to see his face almost covered with a hoodie over his head.

“Hey.” his voice was deep and raspy.

“Hey.”

The light turns green and Phoenix drives off, quickly looking away from the phone on the mount. He just watched her for a moment as she focused on the road and traffic. “You going somewhere?” he finally asked.

“I’m on my way home. Just left Coby’s.”

“Oh.”

She could tell he wanted to say something more than just ‘Oh.’ As she came to a stop at another red light, she focused her attention back to the phone. “What’s up, Erik?” her tone came out frustrated. He’s been back for days now and he hadn’t texted her at all. He randomly facetimes her and barely has anything to say. She was definitely annoyed with how this was going right about now.

“Can I see you?”

“Sure.”

“How far are you from here?”

She drives off once again. “Like ten minutes.”

“Alright.” There’s movement on his end of the phone. “I’ll wait for you in the garage. See you when you get here.”

“Um… okay.”

The call ends and Phoenix is every bit of confused as to how she should take this. He hasn’t talked to her and now he wants to see her. What the fuck was happening right now?

She arrived in the parking garage of her apartment and Erik is waiting, standing outside his car. She decided to leave her bags in her backseat and gets out to go to him. As she approaches him, he motions to the car, opening the passenger door. “Ride with me somewhere.” Phoenix very hesitantly gets into his car. He gets in and drives off. The ride was silent. He was distant. Not the Erik she had become use to. He was so closed off and she wanted to ask, but didn’t really know how. She didn’t know what to say. She just rode. She laid back into the seat and just looked out the window. The car ride wasn’t long. They pulled into a parking lot and as Phoenix searched around, looking out of the windows, she realized they were at the beach. There weren't many people out. Just a few bodies walking around. Erik turned the car off and opens his door to get out. Phoenix follows. He spares her a look and starts walking onto the sand, toward an empty picnic table. Phoenix doesn’t follow him immediately. She watches him walk and takes note of the slight dip when he takes a step. He turns looking for her and expecting her to be right behind him. When she’s not, he stops to wait. She slowly begins her journey to him. When she approaches him, he takes her hand in his and guides her the rest of the way to the picnic table. Erik steps up onto the table, sitting on the top of it. He leaves just enough room between his legs for Phoenix to sit. He pulls her up on the reserved seat. As she settles into her place between his thighs, he wraps his arms around her torso and rests his face on her shoulder.

Silence.

Neither of them talk. They sit. The moon’s light sits on top of the water before them and faint sounds of the city in the distance. The few people roaming the beach had left, leaving just them with one another. Phoenix listened to Erik’s steady breath in her right ear and the sounds of small waves in the left. She felt calm. The slight irritation she had with Erik had subsided.

The late night breeze flowed right off of the water and a shiver crept up Phoenix’s spine. Erik felt her shake and wrapped his arms around her body completely, holding her tighter.

“Better?” his baritone voice spoke low in her ear.

“Mhmm.” she rested her head back on him.

“I missed you.” he whispered.

Without thinking, Phoenix’s words flew from her mouth. “Then why didn’t you text me?”

“I just needed some space… some time to decompress or whatever.”

“I get that. I just would like to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. Not really used to having to check in with anybody.”

Phoenix lifted her body from his and turns to look at him. “Well, you don’t have to check in with me then.” she snapped.

Erik sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll let you know next time.”

“Nah, you don’t have to worry about it.” she faces forward but folds her body into her lap. Erik pulls her back to him. She resisted at first but eventually submitted. Resting her body against his chest again. She felt defeated. He wrapped his arms around her again, placing his face in her neck. He doesn’t do anything. He just lays there, lips barely grazing her skin. Phoenix silently prayed he’d move, though she wanted him to stay.

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” he said into her neck.

She took in a deep breath. Coby’s words popping up in her mind. ‘Let that shit go. Let Erik be your fresh start.’

“I missed you too, Erik.”

His lips pressed firmly on her neck then. Her body melted more into his.

“Why are you so understanding?” he asked.

She shrugs. “It’s just who I am, I guess.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Why would you say that?”

He lifts his head, looking out at the water. Phoenix’s head falls back onto his chest. His grip around her loosens. “I’m no good for you. You’re too much of a good person for a nigga like me. I do terrible shit and you still find a way to be understanding about it.”

“Erik...”

“Everything I touch dies, Phoenix. I don’t wanna ruin your life.”

“Shut up, Erik.”

“Phoenix--” She cuts him off and turns to face him again. She pulls the strings on his hoodie and moves her face closer to his. They’re eye to eye.

“I’m a grown ass woman. I make my own decisions, so if you ruin my life, it’ll be because I let you. I’m not scared of none of that shit you’re talking. I had my chance to cut you off when you told me that you’re basically an assassin. You mark your body for every fucking kill Erik. I tried counting them damn scars on your arms and I lost count… three times,” She dramatically throws up three fingers. “I’m understanding because I know what it’s like to only have yourself. I’m understanding because somebody has to be. Somebody has to be a safe space for your dumbass.” She lets go of his hoodies strings. “Even though I couldn’t get a damn text letting me know you were still alive.” she says sarcastically.

Her words hit him right in the chest. ‘Somebody has to be.’ Nobody had ever tried to be understanding of him. Nobody wanted to be and here this girl is, wanting to be that somebody. He felt a sense of safety with her that he couldn’t explain before and this confirmed everything he was feeling. This woman was special and the only explanation for how he got so lucky was that Bast herself, sent her to him. If that’s what Erik had to tell himself to accept what Phoenix was offering, he would. All Erik could do in this moment was smile. “I said I’m sorry.” He hadn’t smiled once in the weeks he’d been gone.

Phoenix clutched her pearls. “Erik Stevens without his gold caps? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up.” He grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks and connecting his lips with hers. He needed to do this. He wanted to since she met him in the parking garage. The kiss turned hot, very quickly. The smacking of their lips seem to quiet out the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Phoenix gripped his hoodie, pulling him closer. Their awkward position making it hard to do so. She lifted her body from between his legs and straddled his lap. She didn’t miss a beat. Their lips never parted. Erik’s hands gripped her ass, holding her in place above him. Just as Phoenix sucked on his bottom lip, he pulled back.

“Fuck, girl.” he shakes his head, trying to come back to reality. Erik has kissed many, and I mean MANY of women. But none of them felt like this. She made him want her in every way possible. He wasn’t used to this feeling. But, Phoenix has a history of making him feel things he’s not used to feeling. Like, well… feelings in general. Erik never wanted to just be with someone just to be with them. With other women, if it wasn’t about sex, he didn’t care. But, Phoenix… he wanted to sit next to her, talk to her, hold her hand, watch tv with her. The simple things.

“What I do?” she grinned.

“I want you so fucking bad.” the lust in his voice sent heat to her lady parts. She wanted him too. “But… if I’m gonna do this, I have to do it right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I would love to bend yo’ ass over this table right now and just…” He thrusted his body up into hers. Her mouth dropped in shock. He laughed at her reaction. “But, I wanna do right by you. I wanna take you out. I wanna show you a good time first.”

“You wanna court me, Stevens?” she smiles, linking her hands around his neck.

“Yeah. All that shit.”

“Damnn, okay. A bitch ain’t never had that before.” she says in her hoodrat voice.

“Me neither.” He laughed at her and pulled her back in for a few more pecks on the lips.

They continued to sit in this position. Phoenix laid on his shoulder and he rested his face in her neck, still gripping on to her thighs. She rubbed the back of his neck. They sat quietly with the sounds of the night traveled around them.

“E,” she whispered. He moaned in response. “Why the beach? What made you wanna come here?”

“I like to come here to clear my mind.”

“Hm, well, I’m enjoying this. I really am. But, I’m cold.”

His body bounced under hers as he laughed. “Well, I’m good now so we can go.”

Phoenix stands. Erik moves to stand up but pauses and sits back down. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He drops his head in laughter. “Oh my God, man.”

“What!”

He slowly stands up and his erection is VERY visible through his light grey joggers. Phoenix’s mouth drops and she laughs. She knew he was big from when he chilled with her at her place and she breifly sat on his lap, but seeing this nigga print in these pants, let her know she slightly underestimated him. “And I Oop…” They both leaned over in laughter. Phoenix’s funny reaction was simply a way to steer her brain from the many questions she wanted to ask herself. Like: Was she able to handle that? Ya’ know… when the time came? How big was this nigga? Has he murdered anybody by dick in his past?

But she’ll tackle that one later. They were okay. Things were normal.

Erik readjusted himself and they walked back to his car. The ride back to their apartment was different than the ride to the beach. Phoenix connected her phone to his car’s bluetooth and played her music. The air was lighter on their drive. Erik’s hand found its place on her thigh and they both sung along to the songs that played.

-----------

Phoenix and Erik picked up right where they left off. He texted her every morning and they’d text through the entire day, ending the day with a facetime call. The nights she’d be up and in the studio, they’d text until he fell asleep, only to facetime him when she made it in and they’d both sleep with the other on screen until their phones died. It was like they were teenagers again. The butterflies, the cute text. They enjoyed each other.

——-

Phoenix was currently standing in her hallway, locking her door. Before making her way to the elevator she texted Erik.

Phoenix: What’s your elevator code?

She was feeling bits of nervousness. This would be her first time going up to Erik’s apartment. The couple of weeks that Erik had been back seem to have flown by and her vacation with her girls was coming up quick, Erik told Phoenix he wanted to see her before she left. They haven’t seen much of each other since he’s been back with her schedule being hectic. Phoenix had a lot of work and meetings to get through before her trip. She wanted to enjoy her vacation without any work related distractions. Her and Coby had been working tirelessly so the only time she could really see Erik was on their nightly FaceTime calls. He’d always miss her on the elevators.

Erik: 8176.

She pressed the elevator call button.

Phoenix: Great. My goons will be up in a minute to rob your ass.

Erik: Play with me if you want to. I’ll drop you and them niggas.

Phoenix: you wouldn’t do that to me. You would miss me too much.

Erik: maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t.

DING!

The elevator doors opened and Phoenix stepped on. She typed in his code to enter the Penthouse floors. 8..1..7..6. The twelfth floor light lit up and the doors began to close. She texted Erik back.

Phoenix: I’m not coming up then.

Erik: stop playing baby girl. You know I would miss you.

Erik: I miss you right now.

Phoenix sticks her tongue out, blushing. She locks her screen. The closer she got to his floor, the tighter the knot in her stomach. She could feel her hands getting hot. She tried taking some deep breaths. The cabin stopped and the doors opened. She stepped out and looked to her left and to her right. There was an apartment door in both directions. Erik didn’t mention which direction his door would be. She unlocked her phone, calling Erik.

“Hey baby girl. Where you at?”

“Um, I’m in the hallway. You never told me if your door is to the left or right of the elevators.”

“Oh shit. My bad. The right.”

Phoenix goes right and the door begins to open. Erik steps out with a smile sitting beautifully on his face. He made Nike shirts look like the most exquisite shirts on the market. His dreads were pulled up into a pineapple. The smell of seasoned chicken flowed out into the hallway meeting Phoenix as she greeted him with a hug. He steps aside, letting her in. First glance and Phoenix was stunned. The sleek and modern black and gold decor was designed perfectly. The high ceilings and floor to ceiling glass windows gave the most amazing view of the city. She walked in, looking around, noticing the African Art along the walls.

“Ohhhh, he got moneyyy!”

“Would you like a tour?”

She whipped her head around to him. “Yes, actually. I would.”

“C’mon.”

She follows him as he leads her more into his penthouse. They walk through his huge living room where he has the largest sectional couch that Phoenix has ever seen. It looked so comfy and she couldn’t wait to get lost in it. A 90” tv set on a stand in front of it.

“Full bar over there.” he points to underneath the stairs. “Dining area. Kitchen.” He takes her hand and leads her past the kitchen into a hallway. There are two doors to right. The first is a guest bathroom. The second door is a guest bedroom.

“Damn, Stevens! Your guest room is bigger than my living room. Go off with your rich ass.”

“You’re silly, baby girl. C’mon, we’re going upstairs.”

They make their way back into the main area to go upstairs. She follows him up and notices his pants hanging low on his waist. This nigga has cake.

“Damn, you kinda thick, E.” she pats him. He stops mid step and turns to give her the straightest face.

“Don’t do that shit again.”

She puts her hands up in surrender. “My bad big booty E.”

“Chill.” They continue their trip up the stairs and the space before them was big enough to be another living room. There were some workout equipment, neatly stacked against the wall.

“Oh this is where you be growing ya’ cheeks at.”

“Phoenix, you got one more time to mention my ass before I put you out.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” she smirks at him.

He takes her through some sliding doors that lead to his bedroom. The walls were white with a dark grey accent wall behind his bed. A TV was up on the wall between his large windows. The shades were down, blocking out the cities lights. His california king bed dressed in black and purple. A large black panther picture hung on the wall.

“I have an idea, E.” Phoenix says, rubbing her chin.

“What’s that?”

“I move into this room and you take the one downstairs.”

“You sound crazy. You could just join me in this one.” he winks at her.

“Nope. I need all of this to myself.”

“Nah. I come with it. All or nothing. If you don’t like it, you can stay in your shoebox downstairs.”

Phoenix’s mouth drops and she clutches her chest. “First of all, I love my shoebox.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, we’re almost done with the tour.”

She walks with him to the other side of his room and through another set of sliding doors. They step into his master bathroom. His shower had three shower heads and a bench. The tub sat in front of a large window and another tv was on the wall in front of it. “I’m sold. I might have to take you up on your offer now.”

“Oh now you want me?”

“Technically,” she put a finger up. “I never said that I didn’t.”

“You’re something else.” He walks out and she follows him. Right outside the bathroom’s doors was a small hallway that lead into his closet. He turned on the lights, revealing his amazing collection of clothes, sneakers, jackets, and a jewelry case full of chains and watches and few pair of earrings. Straight ahead was a large mirror. Phoenix walked right passed his clothes. Fuck his clothes honestly. The white light in the closet made for good lighting and the mirror called her to take the perfect picture.

“OH! It’s picture time.” She pulled out her phone, snapping a full cute pics, catching her body at all of the right angles. As she tried to get a new position, she noticed Erik leaning against the wall behind her. She hadn’t realized that he was visible in her pictures before. She stopped and looked at him.

“What?” he was lost as to why she was giving him the stink look.

“Get out my picture.” she barked at him.

He rolled his eyes, stepping out of her camera’s view. She snapped a few more pictures.

“Are you done?” he called out. She walks back to him.

“Yes. All done. Thanks.”

He turns off the lights and they both leave out of his room. As they walked toward the stairs, he points to a door on the other side, “That’s my office. I’m redoing it right now so it’s a mess in there.”

They go downstairs and into the kitchen where the food Erik had cooked sat on the stove. He made stuffed chicken, cheesy, garlic potatoes and grilled asparagus. Phoenix sat in the wooden barstool at the kitchen island as he prepared their plates.

“Red or White?” he asked without turning around.

“Hmm, white.”

Erik placed two plates of food on the counter in front of her. He grabbed two wine glasses from a cabinet, placing one in front of her. “You’re a sweet kind of woman aren’t you?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He walks away out of her sight. When he comes back, he has a bottle of Moscato. He effortlessly pops the cork and pours into their glasses. He takes his seat next to her, pulling her seat closer to him. He grabbed her chin, bringing their faces just a breath from each other. He licks his lips and places a peck on hers, making a small closed mouth smirk appear on hers. “Eat up, baby girl.”

Phoenix pulled away from him. “You don’t tell me what to do, Stevens.” She picks up her fork and starts eating. He watches her with prey like eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” he finally says with a low tone before digging into his food.

As they enjoyed their meal, they talked about random things. How they’re sick of the construction outside of their building. Phoenix has a hair appointment the next day. Nothing major. Well about halfway through dinner, the conversation shifted.

“So,” Erik sat his fork down. “Your birthday is coming up. You and your crew planning something?”

Phoenix sipped her wine. “My crew? No. This vacation is enough for me. I don’t wanna do anything really.”

“I thought the trip was Camrens’s birthday gift?”

“It is. But, I don’t know, it’s right before mine so I’m okay with just that.”

“Why?” He was watching the side of her face.

“Not really a birthday person.”

“I’ve never met a woman that wasn’t a birthday person.”

She finally looks at him. “I mean, as a kid, I was. But the older I got, it just seemed so… extra. I would only do something because my brother wanted to.”

“Brother?!” Erik’s eyebrows raised high. “You have a brother?”

Phoenix rolls her eyes. “Yeah. A twin, actually. Zion.”

“You’ve never mentioned having a brother.”

“Because…” she takes a sip. “We don’t talk. He don’t fuck with me and I don’t fuck with him.” Her demeanor changed. Phoenix is tense now. She clenches and unclenches her jaw and the slight eye rolls as she talks let Erik know that her brother is a trigger.

Erik turns his body to face her to give her his full attention. “Why not?” She cups her glass with both hands, slowly taking sips. There’s a beat of silence.

“I’m here.” She began. Her voice small. “I’m living a decent life, doing what I love to do and he’s not.” she shrugs. “He hates me for that.”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“He hates me, E. He said it. He’s convinced himself that I just have hella money and because I won’t move him out here and pay his way through school or fund any of his ideas, I’m not a good sister. He’s the only boy in the family, so everybody has always babied his big ass. I’m not doing that. I’ve worked hard. I’ve earned everything that I have. He can do the same.”

“I understand that. Ain’t shit free.”

She looks at him in disbelief. Everyone (her family and old friends from back home) felt like she was being too harsh on her brother for wanting him to put in some kind of work. They had always just given him what he wanted, no matter the cost. Phoenix had worked for everything. She had a job at 16 while her brother did whatever he wanted. He was given his first car from an uncle while Phoenix saved up her money to get herself one. That same car she saved up for is the same car that she drove to California. Everyone excused her brother actions because he was just a free spirit. Phoenix was too but she still had some discipline.

“Why you look at me like that?” Erik asked.

“Because… you’re the first person to actually agree with me.”

“Hell yeah, I agree with you! That nigga better get a damn job.” That made her laugh. “Phoenix and Zion though. Interesting names for twins.”

“Our names were gonna be Zues and Megara since Hercules was my mama’s favorite movie.” Erik burst into laughter. “Thank God my grandma threw a bible at her ass and put a stop to that.” Phoenix joined in on the laughing.

Erik wiped a tear from his eyes, his laughter calming down. “Oh man,” he tapped on the counter, looking as though he had something else to say. “Speaking of names though. Um, can I tell you a secret?”

“Let me guess, Erik isn’t your real name or something?” she says, jokingly. Erik just looks at her, eyebrows raised. His silence answering his question. She slams her hand on the counter. “ERIK ISN’T YOUR REAL NAME?” she starts to raise up from the barstool.

Erik stops her, grabbing her arm. “Hold up. Hold up.” she snatches her arm from his hold. “Hear me out.” she motions for him to continue. “Technically, Erik is my name, but I also have my Wakandian name.”

“You better not be fucking with me.”

“I’m dead serious. I’m Erik Stevens but technically, my real name is N’Jadaka.”

Phoenix takes a deep breath, staring at him like he has three heads. A whole minute passed with her just looking at him. “I need more wine.” she finally says.

“Nah,” Erik stands, taking Phoenix’s hand, “ I know what you need.

Some dick! Her brain screamed at her. “What’s that?”

She followed him to the couch. He turned on the tv and picked up a blunt from the coffee table. They lean into each other, shoulder to shoulder as Erik lights the blunt, taking two drags of it and passing it to Phoenix. She takes a hit, holding in the smoke longer than she needed and slowly blowing it out. They passed the blunt back and forth until it was gone. They settled into the couch as Naruto played on the tv. Phoenix had come clean during one of their late night facetime calls that she started watching the show while he was gone and that she really liked it. They agreed to watch it together and here they were. As their highs hit them more, Erik dimmed the lights in the living room and got comfortable laying on Phoenix’s lap. They remained in this position until Phoenix’s legs were numb. She repositioned herself under him to lay fully on her back and he placed his body over hers, resting his head on stomach. He was heavy but she liked it. She wanted him to stay there forever.

Phoenix had been absentmindedly playing in Erik’s locs for an entire episode. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped. His hand came out of nowhere and placed her hand back in his hair. She giggled and continued rubbing his scalp again. She looked down at him and noticed that his eyes were closed. This man was falling asleep.

“Erik…” she called him softly.

“Hm.” he moaned.

“Are you sleep?”

“I’m resting my eyes.” his voice was low and raspy. He was definitely asleep. Phoenix waited a couple minutes before calling his name again, but this time she didn’t receive a response. She pulled out her phone, opening her front camera and took a picture of them. Erik’s face buried in her stomach and her fingers, tangled in his locs. She then opened her Instagram, swiping to make a story. A boomerang of course. She made one with the caption ‘Niggas be like, I’m just resting my eyes.’ She posted it and sat her phone down on the floor. She was pretty tired herself but the truth is, she didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay right here, under him. So she did.

--------

Erik naturally woke up a little after 7am. He wanted to lay with Phoenix longer but his body was so used to waking up early, he knew he had to just get up. As soon as he moved from off of her, she curled up into the fetal position. He grabbed a blanket, placing it over Phoenix’s now balled up body. He stood over her, admiring how peaceful she looked while sleep. He then headed upstairs into his bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. He changed into some compression pants and basketball shorts. He remained shirtless and went out to his workout area and began his at home workout.

An hour later, he was sweaty and tired. He checked over the railing to see Phoenix still asleep. She was still balled up in the same spot. He laughed to himself remembering that she never wakes up before noon. He goes back into his bathroom to shower and change into some fresh clothes. He left his locs to lay wildly over his face and came back downstairs to clean up last night’s dishes. The clanking of the dishes and ruffles of the dishwasher still didn’t get Phoenix to wake up. She was a hard sleeper. The opposite of Erik. Maybe it was his Navy training, but Erik could hear wind shift directions in his sleep. It was still early, just after 10. He’s let her sleep in some more.

He sat near her on the couch to watch some tv and lazily scrolled through his phone. He opened the Instagram app and the first thing he noticed was Phoenix’s profile picture at the top of his screen, glowing pink. He tapped it and the boomerang of them played over and over. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He did everything he could to conceal the grin that threatened to appear on his face as if someone was watching. He watched it more times than he would care to admit. Phoenix began to stir in her sleep. One of her feet poked out from under the blanket. Her sock was missing and her neon pink toes struggled to find shelter under his thigh. He picked up her foot, setting it on his lap and started massaging her foot. He did this while watching tv until his fingers were tired.

It was approaching noon and Phoenix still hadn’t budged. She had a hair appointment in a few hours and Erik knew it was time to wake her. He softly shook her leg, calling her name.

“Philly. C’mon, baby girl. Get up.”

“Hm?” she moaning from under the blanket.

“Get up.”

He had to shake her a little harder for her to actually wake up. She sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She looked disheveled-- her hair were all over her head, she looked confused about where she was and she was missing a sock.

“Morning, baby girl.” He sat back, rubbing her unsocked foot again.

“Morning.” she yawned. She stared blankly ahead, trying to process that she’s awake now. The fresh scent of his body lotion traveled under her nose and she looked at him, taking in the fact that he was fully dressed and looked damn good.

“You smell good.” her tired voice rung out.

“Thank you.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Like seven thirty.”

She shook her head, “Early as fuck,” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it now?”

“Almost noon. Figured I’d wake you up so you’re not late for your hair appointment.”

Phoenix shifted her body and laid her head on his lap. “I don’t want to go to that.”

“Nah, Phoenix. Get yo’ ass up. You’re not about to blame me for your hair not being done later.”

Phoenix moaned in protest. He slipped his hand in her curls, rubbing her head. “How am I supposed to get up and you’re doing shit like this?”

He stopped and lifted her up from him. He held her chin, “Because… you need to go wash your hair, wash your face, brush them teeth and put some lotion on this ashy ass foot you had on me.”

She swatted his hand from her face. “You can suck my ass, Erik. My foot ain’t ashy.”

“I’ll do more than suck your ass, baby girl.” he licked his lips. Phoenix watched closely as his tongue grazed his lips. She had zoned out, flashing back to all of the dreams that she’s been having of him doing just what he said. Her breathing hitched and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. The snapping of his fingers in front of her face, snatched her from her mind.

“Hm?”

He raised a brow at her. “You were thinking about me sucking your ass, huh?”

“What-- No!”

“Mhm.” he chuckled.

“I see you want to start with me early today.” she says as she stands and searches under the blanket for her sock.

“Early? Girl, half the damn day is gone.”

“Whatever. It’s early to me.” She finds her sock and sits down to put it on. She feels on the floor for her phone, checking it and seeing that the group chat with her friends is currently up in flames with 23 unread messages. She swipes to open the thread and finds that she’s butt of their jokes.

Mica: I know Phoenix up. She’s avoiding us right now.

Camren: lmao. That’s because Erik giving her that morning wood.

Mica: Right! “Niggas be like” head ass.

Ava: She think she slick too. Y’all notice how she made sure you couldn’t see his face?

Camren: yessss! No face. No Case.

Mica: lmfao.

“Oh my goodness.” Phoenix drags a hand over her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“My crew as you call them, they’re lighting my ass up right now about something I posted on Instagram.”

“Oh, that boomerang?” Her head snapped in his direction. “Yeah, I seen that.” he bit his lip to stop himself from smiling.

“How did you see that?”

“I follow you.”

“What? When-- when did you follow me?”

Erik shifted his focus to his phone, looking unbothered at the fact that he just snitched on himself. “I been following you.”

“Since when?”

“Don’t worry about all that. Stop being fake bougie and follow me back though.”

Phoenix was stunned that she didn’t know this information. She felt exposed. “This is weird. What’s your name?”

He snatched her phone from her hands and searched his name @Kingkill_ . His page was private so he requested a follow from her page. He exited out of the app and opened her messages, going to her group chat. Phoenix watched, confused as to what he was going to do. He tapped the camera icon and the camera popped up on screen.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Erik pushed Phoenix down onto her back, and straddled himself over her. She tried to grab the phone but he held her wrist in place and tapped the red button to record. He started dramatically humping her and laughing.

“Get off me nigga.” she shouted.

“Hold on, baby. I’m almost done.”

One of Phoenix’s hands broke free from his grip and she swung on him, reaching for her phone. He jumped up and ran. She pushed herself up from the couch going after him. He ran into his guest bedroom and locked the door. Phoenix banged on the door, shouting for him to open the door.

“I will break this bitch down. Open the door Erik.”

“Try it if you want to.”

Erik leaned his large figure against the shaking door. He proceeded to send the compromising video to her friends in the group chat. After hitting send, he unlocks the door and Phoenix stands there looking pissed with her arms folded over her chest. He hands her the phone and she snatches it and storms off.

“You really mad?” He goes after her.

She tries her best to not break her fake mad face. But she couldn’t hold it. “You play too much. They’re about to drag my ass.”

“C’mere.” He grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her, placing kisses all over her face. “You like it on the low.” She pushed herself off of him.

“I have to go get my hair done. I’ll see your childish ass later.”

As she turned to go put on her shoes, Erik smacks her on her butt and follows her to the door. All ready to go, she goes in for a hug and quickly gripped his face in her small hand and blew her breath in his face. The smile on his face dropped and snatched his face away. “You nasty as hell! Get out of my house.”

Phoenix broke down in laughter. “That’s what you get for playing.” She opens the door, stepping out into the hallway. Erik is being extra, pinching his nose and waving her out. She winks at him, “See you later, N’Jadaka.”

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

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