#will probably add that new f/o tonight??

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[crappymixtape]

laugh like lovers, kiss like friends

you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old memories, ones you thought you'd forgotten, but you have to decide, will you say ‘i do’ or will your heart realize what you really want has been there all along?  | (  9.1k, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

L A U G H L I K E L O V E R S, K I S S L I K E F R I E N D S 🎶 cold water swimming, quiet houses

“How about these, dear? Eucalyptus pairs lovely with peonies. Besides, wildflowers for a wedding? In all my years as a planner I’ve never seen it. No one does it. It's just tacky, hon.”

Twirling the stem of a daisy between your fingers you bit the inside of your cheek, only half hearing the woman standing next to you among all the buckets and vases of flowers in the greenhouse.

Wildflowers for a wedding? No one does it.

Pulling your eyes off the daisy you forced a smile, “Of course, I’m sorry. Peonies sound great.”

“Wonderful, I’ll add it to the day-of agenda and make sure the florist knows you’ve made up your mind. It’s an excellent choice, one your fiance will be happy with I’m sure.”

Your fiance.

Sam proposed less than a month ago in the kitchen of your little downtown Indianapolis apartment with his grandmother’s ring. A huge, gaudy diamond that made your hands look even smaller than they already were and after you’d called your mom the news had spread like wildfire.

Sam didn’t want to wait, he probably would’ve dragged you down to the courthouse if it hadn’t been for his parents and your mom, but it meant things were moving at the speed of light and you were running to catch up.

When he’d looked up at you, ring box outstretched, you knew what your first thought should’ve been. Tears and overwhelming joy and a resounding Yes! but none of it came. Instead your first thought had been long stalks of grass. The glittering turquoise water of the quarry. Skunky weed and wildflowers and hot, sticky Indiana summers.

Steve.

“Babe, you gotta call the bakery back, the lady doesn’t get it. Idiot,” Sam’s voice cut through into your thoughts and you blinked them away.

“What?”

“The cake? She’s not getting it. I told her we wanted vanilla, like actual vanilla not that imitation shit.”

“Julie’s not an idiot,” your tone grew clipped, short, brow furrowing as you folded your arms across your chest. Julie had lived in Hawkins since before your family moved in across the street from her. The only, and best, bakery in town with the sweetest baker known to man. Julie was a saint.

“Okay, well then you try and explain it to her. I’m done,” Sam huffed, pinching his nose between his fingers and shaking his head. “I’m gonna go get food with my mom. Can’t wait until this is all over,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll see you back at the house," and with that he hastily pressed a kiss to your forehead before stalking out of the greenhouse.

“Not really a man’s arena is it,” the planner said giving you an overly sweet smile, “Better to let us take care of it, hm?”

“I guess,” you couldn’t bear to force another smile, “Thanks for your help, but I need to go get ready for tonight. Call me if anything else comes up.”

“On it and don’t you worry, only a few more days. Just think! The happiest day of your life!”

The happiest day of your life.

It sure as hell didn’t didn’t it feel like it.

The high vaulted ceilings in your parents’ living room looked the same as they had when you lived there. Same ugly, bumpy texture and yellowed color, now with a few too-high cobwebs just out of reach hanging in the corners.

The buzz of conversation filling the air around you was incessant, blending and blurring together and making you feel like you were far away. Like you were a spectator and not the bride-to-be and your chest squeezed with nerves. There were so many people packed into the house and as guests hurled their questions at you, your anxiety only grew.

“Oh, sweetie you look amazing! You’ll be a beautiful bride!” “Tell me again, where are you going for your honeymoon?” “Sam is such a catch, does he have any available friends? Just kidding! But seriously?” “Oh my god, look at that ring! He must really love you.”

One of Sam’s cousins had been hammering you with question after question, barely giving you any room to reply and you felt like you were drowning in it. The walls of the living room suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, making you feel claustrophobic and you needed air. Outside. Anything other than this. “Is-is it warm in here?” you stuttered, pulling at the collar of your dress.

“No? What d’you mean–”

“I’m sorry, excuse me,” you didn’t wait for her to finish and instead moved as quickly as you could through the crowd, trying not to project your panic with a fake smile plastered on your lips until you reached the slider door.

“Honey!” your stomach sank. Your mom. “Your aunt and uncle just got here, you need to say hello!”

Looking over your shoulder she was standing with her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in frustration, watching as your fingers gripped the handle of the patio door.

“I know,” your voice was edged with irritation and you bit your tongue. “Please? I just need some air for a minute. I’ll be right back,” and you could tell she didn’t like your answer, but she didn’t fight you on it as you slipped outside, all the noise and voices and music blunted and sliced in half as you shut the door behind you.

Leaning back against the glass, eyes closed, you pulled in a breath of air and let it out slowly. Trying, telling, yourself you had to keep it together. Just a minute out here and you’d feel right as rain. Ready to dive back in.

The happiest day of your life.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?”

Your eyes flew open, an all-too-familiar voice making your heart leap into your throat.

He was sitting on the edge of one of the pool loungers like it was nothing, a few locks of stray hair falling into his eyes, all warm honey and burnt caramel and the boyish grin he was giving you made you feel dizzy. Like it always did.

“I’ve been inside for like two hours,” you shot back, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to really sound mad at him.

At Steve.

“Well don't sound like you’re having too much fun. Not like you’re getting married in three days or anything,” he teased, scooting over on the lounger, a silent invitation for you to sit next to him and you took it.

“Don’t remind me–” fell out, “–what I mean is–it's just–just planning everything has been...a lot.”

Steve caught your slip up, but didn’t call it out, only humming in reply as he threaded a hand through his hair, watching as you settled down next to him. “I’m about a month late, but congrats,” he offered with a small smile before taking a drink from his beer.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you replied lamely, cheeks flushing when he looked over at you. You were entirely too sober for this. “Here, gimme that,” reaching over you took the beer from his hand, chugging half of it in one go and pulling a laugh out of Steve.

“Jesus,” Steve laughed, amused at you, a sound you’d missed so very much. “Take it easy,” he chided gently, but it was all warm and sticky sweet like popsicles on a hot day and when you gave it back he shook his head.

Silence lingered between you for a moment, the static sound of the pool filter trickling in the background, and your thoughts drifted back to a moment a few years ago. Up in your room while summer spun by outside. The last time he'd been over here. Steve.

Bobbing along to the music coming from your stereo, you crammed the last of your photos into one of the empty supply boxes Steve had brought over from Family Video.

“I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather, but traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention,” you sang a little off key, giving your shoulders a little shimmy as you turned to grab the pile of books on your bed.

“You keep your distance via the system of touch and gentle persuasion. I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?” Steve sang back, browed knitted together in dedication to the bit, hips swaying as he wiped down your dresser. Turning with the roll of paper towels in his hand he held it out to you as the chorus neared, both of you singing horribly.

“Oh, you're wasting my time, you're just, just, just wasting time!”

“God, who’s gonna sing shitty with me when you’re not around?” Steve tossed the roll onto your bed, leaning back against the drawers behind him.

“Robin sucks more than I do,” you shot back, and Steve mumbled in agreement.

“Yeah, but she hates Tears for Fears,” there was a slight whine in his voice that made you look up at him over your box and grin.

“Well then save it for me when I’m back on Christmas break.”

Steve gave you a pout and folded his arms over his chest, “That’s like, a fucking eon from now.”

“It’s not that long,” you moved around the other side of your bed to sit in front of him, a small pause swallowing you both into silence.

Clearing your throat you dropped your gaze down your shoes, kicking them in time with the song still playing in the background. You glanced over at Steve’s dirty, beat up Blazers and smiled. “I guess I’ll miss you,” you teased, looking back up at him and he gave you a smile, but it softened the longer he looked at you.

“I know I’ll miss you,” he said, and you knew he meant it, and your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird caught in a cage as the air around you grew thick with words unsaid, but implied. Steve took a step away from the dresser, standing in the V of your legs, hand moving to lift your chin up with his thumb and forefinger.

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting his gaze, and everything felt hazy. “Miss you too, Stevie,” you murmured and he leaned down slowly. Tilting your chin ever so gently he hesitated for just a second before pressing his lips against yours. Your room and half-packed boxes and everything fell away in the warm, glittering feeling of Steve and summer and the last of the light falling through your window washed you both in gold like it wanted to hold you in that moment forever.

“How long are you in town for?” your voice broke the silence between you and Steve took another drink of his beer.

“Just til the day after the wedding, need to get back to things,” he said softly, stealing a look at you out of the corner of his eye, smiling at the way your nose scrunched up when you were thinking, “You look really pretty by the way.”

Your cheeks warmed and you stole a look at him too, “You have to say that.”

“No I don’t. I do on your wedding day, but this is a freebie,” he teased, trying to make it seem lighter than it was, but you both knew the weight it carried.

“Babe, c’mon. You gotta get back inside. It’s rude. People are looking for you,” the sudden sound of Sam’s voice sliced your moment in two and Steve sat up straight, leaning away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alright, I just needed some air,” your voice sounded tired and Steve caught the look in your eyes as you roughed your hands over your face, “I’m coming.”

“Harrington,” Sam sniped, and Steve gave him a big smile, knowing just how much the other man hated finding the two of you sitting together.

“Sammy,” Steve teased and you had to bite back a laugh, hiding it in a cough, but Sam knew.

“I fuckin’ hate that,” Sam gave Steve a look and he just smiled.

“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, but knew you should’ve kept it to yourself when Sam glared daggers at you.

“Inside,” he said, patience short, and you felt your own run out as you glared right back, but moved toward the slider door anyway.

“I’ll see you,” you told Steve and just before you slipped back into the chaos, he gave you a look. The same one you remembered from that hot summer evening in your room as you packed your life into boxes. A look that put fire to the embers lying dormant in your chest and something you thought had been extinguished flickered back to life.

“Sam, hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

“I’m trying. You know how much I hate being outside. These stupid boots are too tight and–” Sam grunted, leaning over to tug at his socks, “–these are itchy as hell.”

“You don’t have to wear them, but your legs are gonna get bit up and scratched on the trail,” you shook your head, yanking your own worn-in boots onto your feet.

“Bit? Are you kidding me?”

“What? It’s summer, there are a ton of bugs out right now.”

Sam sucked in a breath and put his face in his hands, standing on the other side of the bed from you. He’d agreed to it at first, thought maybe it might be a quaint little jaunt through a park, but when he realized it was an actual hike up the bluff just outside Hawkins – in nature – he’d thrown a fit.

It was one of your favorite places, a special piece of home, and you were going to go with or without him.

“Just stay home, Sam. It’s fine,” you huffed, kicking your suitcase shut, tugging your ponytail through the back of your baseball cap.

“You know what? Maybe I will. This whole place is too much. Jason’ll get beers with me,” he growled under his breath, yanking his boots off to get to his socks, “Enjoy your hike.”

“Great, thanks, will do,” you almost left the room without saying goodbye, but something made you hesitate and you paused for a second at the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why was everything so damn hard? This was supposed to be easy.

The happiest day of your life.

Resigned, you turned around and retraced the few steps over to Sam. “I’ll see you when we’re back,” you muttered, bending down and brushing a hasty kiss to his cheek.

“See you,” he didn’t meet your gaze, instead scowling at the ground and it was the push you needed to leave, the weight on your shoulders lifting as you hurried down the stairs and out the door.

The sun was just coming up, painting the sky cotton candy pinks and blurred warm tangerines. You could feel the heat already and as you got out of your car at the bluff the feeling of the sun on your bare legs pulled a heavy sigh from your lungs. Breathing out the stress and pressure of the last few days and you closed your eyes for a minute, leaning against the warmth of your car.

It would be okay. Today was for you. This was for you.

Opening them again you heard another car rumbling up the dirt road behind you and when you turned around you grinned so big your cheeks started to hurt.

“OH MY GOD,” Robin squealed. She practically leapt out of the backseat of Steve’s BMW and ran over to you, gathering you up in her arms and squeezing tight. “What the hell! You look amazing! Shit. Is this like, pre-wedding glow or did you stop eating meat or something? I hear it’s like, totally bad for your skin.”

“Robin,” Steve shook his head as he shut his car door before walking around to get Robin’s too.

“What? All legitimate questions! Right, Eds?” she shot back.

“I mean, not the first thing I’d ask,” Eddie replied with a grin, but you could hear the softness of him behind it.

“Alright, well I wouldn’t expect you to know anyway. Weddings are like a foreign language to you plebs,” Robin said simply, clicking her fanny pack around her waist.

“Hey, that’s not fair, I know enough,” Steve chimed in, propping a hand on his hip and giving Robin a look.

“Children, not about us today!” Eddie chided, following after Robin and gathering you up into one of his bear hugs. “Hi, sweetheart,” he held you out at arm’s length and gave you a warm Eddie smile.

“Hi,” you grinned back, the happiest you’d been in days just listening to the comforting sound of your friends bickering, “Missed you.”

“Mmm, you too,” Eddie hummed, shooting a quick glance over at Steve. “Some of us more than others,” he said a bit quieter, bringing his eyes back to you and you felt your cheeks flush.

“Okay, hike?” you deflected, then accusingly looked back at Eddie, “You’re not still smoking are you?”

“Only on Wednesdays,” he flipped back casually, but you knew he was full of shit.

“Munson, you’re a horrible liar,” Steve drawled, rolling his eyes, starting the walk to the edge of the bluff. “Nance and Jonathan are already at the top,” he said over his shoulder, “Jonathan wanted to get a time lapse of the sunrise.”

“Oh, sick,” Eddie clapped his hands, “I gotta see it. C’mon, Buckley get with it.” He waved an arm forward, pulling Robin into a jog and you shook your head with a soft laugh as you caught up with Steve. Starting up the bluff two by two.

The sounds of everything coming to life swirled around the four of you as you walked. The buzz of the insects, birds chirping their morning songs and tractors rumbling to life in the fields alongside the bluff.

Home.

“God, the last time we were up here was so Dustin could talk to Suzie,” Steve half-laughed, Eddie and Robin walking just ahead of you. You grinned at the memory.

“Oh no,” you shook your head, “They might be worse than we are at singing.”

“Didn’t think it was possible to be honest,” he teased gently, smiling over at you, looking for a long moment before dropping his gaze back down to his feet.

You could feel his eyes on you and the warmth of it filled you up and spilled over at the edges, making you happier than you’d been in a long time and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest.

“Thanks for getting up so early,” you exhaled, breaths getting heavier as the incline of the bluff steepened, Steve pulling in a breath next to you.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve slept in since high school,” he waved you off, “Managing a store’s got me up ass early every day. Besides, wouldn’t miss it.” Arms swinging at your sides, his fingers brushed against yours as you walked and the embers in your chest glowed bright.

“Yeah,” you sighed, wishing that for once Sam had come along. That he’d put even a little bit of effort into your interests. That he’d care even a fraction of what Steve cared and the embers flickered again with your frustration.

“You two are slow as hell!” Eddie teased and when you looked up you saw he and Robin had been moving much faster than you and Steve. “I’m smoking a victory cigarette at the top!” he yelled and Robin smacked him, both of them dissolving into laughter.

“C’mon, that asshole doesn’t need another cigarette,” Steve’s brow furrowed in frustration and he picked up the pace, pulling you along with him as he lengthened his stride.

Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for the four of you at the top and, much to Eddie’s dismay, Robin beat him by a couple of feet, stealing his cigarettes and jamming them into her fanny pack as punishment.

Jonathan had asked Nancy to marry him two years ago now, Christmas eve under the tree at the farm and they’d eloped that spring there on top of the bluff. It had been a small, but sweet ceremony, with only family and close friends. Perfectly Nance and Jonathan and as you thought back on it your stomach twisted with a longing feeling.

As you sat scattered among the long grass in pairs – Eddie and Robin, Nancy and Jonathan, you and Steve – a breeze picked up and blew through the wildflowers around you, taking then with it and you watched as the buttercups danced in the wind.

You wanted wildflowers. Not peonies and eucalyptus.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Steve’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over at him, sat close enough to you in the grass that you could see all the little moles and freckles that dotted down the line of his jaw, his neck, the exposed skin along the top of his shirt.

“Flowers,” fell out and you didn’t shy away from him, meeting his gaze.

“Flowers?” he asked, brow knitting together in confusion.

“Stupid flowers. And cake. And nature and socks and–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. What are you talking about?” Steve scooted closer to you, your legs pressing together as you sat facing each other and he put a hand on your knee.

Your throat tightened and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them away. Not here. You didn’t mean it.

“Hey,” he said softer, hand lifting from your knee to press into yours and you blinked hastily, pulling in a breath to steady yourself.

“I don’t know,” you started, closing your eyes for a minute, trying to ground yourself. “I just–I thought this would be easier. We’re supposed to be in love and planning this should be fun, but it sucks and he–” catching yourself you looked back up at Steve and felt him squeeze your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just stress. I shouldn’t–”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve said, thumb brushing over the bump of your knuckles, soft and warm and reassuring.

He was looking at you again like he had at the welcome party, like you were the only thing that existed in that moment and you felt yourself moving closer, your legs hovering over his with the lack of space.

“I wish Sam would look at me like that,” you whispered and Steve’s lips parted in surprise, anticipation grabbing hold of both of you as the wind picked up again.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t,” Steve whispered back, leaning closer still and you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek. The scent of his shampoo and spearmint gum and cedar and wildflowers flooding your brain and making everything feel hazy. His eyes all bright amber and flecks of gold in the sun. Closer and closer and closer and–

“Harrington! You left the food in the car!”

Leaning back from each other you felt the tension shatter with the bark of Eddie’s voice and you leapt to your feet.

“God, what a dingus,” Robin grumbled, “Now we gotta go back down.”

“Hey,” Steve scrambled to his feet ignoring them, grabbing your hand in his, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just–I forgot I have to meet with the baker today about the cake this morning.”

“Oh,” Steve’s expression was edged with concern and he let your hand drop as the others started moving to the top of the trail.

“Rehearsal dinner is tonight right?” Robin asked offhandedly, grabbing a piece of licorice from her fanny pack.

“You have licorice in there and didn’t offer me any?” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, tonight at seven at Hop and Joyce’s farm,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the warm feeling of Steve was still holding you tightly.

“Open bar?” Eddie grinned.

“Oh my god, Munson. Shut up,” Robin chided, shoving him as they all wandered down the path in a line, you and Steve bringing up the rear.

“Course it’s open bar,” you tried to laugh, but it fell short, everything feeling like it was crumbling now.

The breeze picked up, swirling around your feet, carrying spearmint and Steve’s shampoo and boy with it and as you watched the bachelor buttons sway with the wind you felt a thought gnawing at the back of your mind.

What if.

There was still time.

Nothing’s permanent.

People change their minds all the time and…

Come over here. All you've got is this moment, twenty-first century's yesterday. You can care all you want, everybody does, yeah, that's okay.

“Chug, chug, chug!” “Don’t be a pussy, Jason!” “No way, he’s too old!”

It felt like you were back in high school throwing a rager over at Tina Rochester’s house not having drinks after your rehearsal dinner, but after most of the ‘adults’ had all gone home things got carried away.

Hop and Joyce’s farm was far enough outside of town that the noise wouldn’t bother anyone and thank god because it was loud. Maybe open bar hadn’t been the best idea, but Sam was having a great time, smiling and laughing for once and you didn’t fight it. You were having fun too.

“Ohhh! He did it!!” “Get that man a medal!”

Jason Carver, Sam’s best man, crushed his empty beer can under his foot to whoops and hollers. You weren’t sure who started it, but someone had told someone else they could shotgun a beer faster and it spiraled from there. Sam was in his element, partying alongside the other ex-basketball players, and for a minute you felt like maybe things would be okay.

Gathering you up in his arms, Sam spun you in a circle, pressing his lips messy and drunk against your cheek. “God, babe. Should be illegal to look that good,” he slurred into your ear, arms still holding you tight as he lowered you slowly back to the ground.

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. “Gonna write me a ticket?” you teased and he reached a hand around to grab at your ass.

“Maybe I will,” he breathed and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but then a voice pulled him away.

“Sam? Oh my god!”

Carol and Tommy. Great.

“Carol?? I didn’t think y’all were getting here til tomorrow! Tommy, you look like shit,” Sam barked a laugh and lunged at his old friend, grabbing him around the waist and pushing him across the patio.

“Fuck off, you’re one to talk,” Tommy growled back, digging his hands into Sam’s ribs and both of them fell back into their old selves. Talking about a couple of friends that had gone pro, work, what married life was like for Tommy and Carol.

“Babe, go get me another beer, huh?” Sam said over his shoulder and you rolled your eyes, but giving Carol a quick hug you made your way over to the keg.

Priming the tap you started to pour beer into a cup, but it sputtered and choked before spilling foam and you frowned. “Piece of shit,” kicking the keg you shook the garbage can it was sitting in and tried again, but this time nothing came out.

“Need a hand?”

Eyes still on the keg you sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you dumped the foam in your cup onto the ground. “Tapped already,” you grumbled, turning around to see Steve grinning at you, hands jammed in his pockets, tie loose and hanging around his neck and you swore he was the most handsome human being you’d ever laid eyes on.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he took the last few steps toward you and primed the tap again, giving the keg one firm shake, and grabbed the cup from you. Foam started coming out and you jammed your tongue into your cheek.

“Ha! Told you–”

But then the foam turned into cold, amber beer, and you clamped your mouth shut.

“You were saying?” Steve teased and you shoved him, spilling some of the beer that he’d just poured into your cup on the ground. “Hey! You’re a menace,” he chided softly, shouldering you back, but grabbing the spout again he filled the cup once more and handed it back to you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, glancing over at him as you took a sip.

“Sam seems to be having a good time,” he commented, finding a cup of his own and filling it.

“Yeah, right back to high school.” You watched as your fiance, Tommy, and Jason all snickered and laughed at each other, talking about ‘the good old’ days, and your smile fell.

You couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that with you. When he was drinking he got more handsy, liked to keep you close to his side and brag about how you were about to get married, but nothing about how hard you worked or the fact that you were saving up to buy a place.

“I dunno,” Steve sighed, taking a drink of his beer, “I don’t miss it.”

“Me either,” you agreed, glancing up at him, and your heart stopped.

God he was pretty. The string of lights that wound around the property washed him in a warm glow. Hair falling out of place as the night spun on, the line of his jaw cast in half light, dark and strong, the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked and looked down at you, the way his lips pulled up into that smile.

“What?” Steve asked, tone amused and playful and your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you echoed stupidly.

Steve laughed and gave you a lopsided smile. “You tell me, you’re the one zoning out,” he teased and your cheeks flushed.

“Oh, n-nothing,” you stumbled over your words and quickly filled the silence with another gulp of beer.

“Okay, well when it comes back to you lemme know.” His eyes lingered on yours for just a moment longer and then a look came over him. Like he remembered something. “Oh, hey. C’mere a minute,” and then he was grabbing your hand and pulling you around the side of the barn.

As he pulled you into motion you felt just how buzzed you were and a giggle pushed itself through your lips. “What the hell are we doing?” you asked, Steve loosing a laugh of his own as he yanked you both to a stop a few yards away from the party out in the long grass of Hop’s field.

“There,” he said pointing up and you followed the line of his arm into the sky until your eyes landed on it.

“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your gaze back to Steve as he looked up into the inky black expanse of the Indiana night. He was just how you remembered him. Hair messed, all boyish and eyes full of wonder and curiosity, just like he’d been those years ago that night in his backyard while you floated in his pool.

“Yeah, that one. Right there,” Steve swam closer to you, grabbing your arm, fingers folding yours in to make a point and tugging it up over your head.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his legs brushed against yours under the water and it took everything you had in you to pull your eyes from him to look up.

“See it?”

“That one?” you asked, pointing on your own, and he nodded as your eyes trailed up the line of your arm to land on an especially bright star.

“Mmhm,” Steve murmured and all you wanted was to look at him again, so you did. “While you’re gone you can just look up at that at night and think of me,” he said matter-of-fact, giving you one of his lopsided grins.

“What if we’re not looking at the same time?”

“I’ll always be looking,” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper and the way he looked at you made you feel like you might melt. Blinking water from your lashes you lifted a hand to his cheek and at your touch his hands slipped along the bare skin of your waist, sliding down to your hips as he slowly pulled you into him.

The pool filter was humming heavy between the all crickets and frogs and lightning bugs, but you knew the thudding of your heartbeat was louder than all of it.

Wrapping your legs around Steve’s torso, you laced your fingers at the back of his neck, wanting him closer and tighter. Hair messed and flat against his forehead, his lips were parted as he breathed you in, water dripping off the end of his nose and eyes glittering in the pool lights, burnt caramel and honey and if he hadn’t been holding onto you, you would’ve floated away.

His fingers pressed into the soft skin at your hips and you sucked in a small gasp.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and you shook your head in reply. It’s okay. And then he gently pressed his thumb to the corner of your lips, swallowing against his nerves, and asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Heart racing, fingers still tangled at the back of his neck you whispered, “Yes.”

“Remember when we found it?”

Steve’s question brought you hurtling back to the present and you shook your head, heart racing in your chest like it had that night in his pool. “Of course I remember,” you murmured, and you knew you were crossing a line, knew you shouldn’t have done it, knew Sam was just around the other side of the barn, but something in you snapped. Shifted. Decided it didn’t care and you took Steve’s hand in yours.

His eyes flicked down to where they were joined and then back up to you, “But–”

“We’re friends,” you reasoned softly, “Friends hold hands.”

“Are we?” he asked and you swore you felt your heart crack as your fingers scrambled to tangle up with his.

“Yeah. Yes. We are,” your words came spilling out, the beer spidering warm and hazy through your body as you tried to justify your action and Steve’s brows furrowed as he dropped his gaze.

“I should go,” he said and regret gripped you like a vice.

“Don’t, please don’t,” your tone was almost pleading, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, working through his own decision and you thought for a minute he would cave like he always did for you, but then his hand was untangling from yours and the ache in your chest was almost enough to pull tears from your eyes.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, voice thick and low, and when he opened his eyes finally to look at you, you saw a thousand I’m sorrys, all the regret and lingering kisses on hot summer nights and promises whispered in the dark and you shook your head.

“But it’s not–we can’t–please stay,” nothing you said made sense and Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you at the church.”

And as you watched his figure walk away, silhouetted and dark against the indigo sky, your star blinking bright above you, you felt tears finally well up and spill down your cheeks.

Sucking in a breath you turned back to the the wide open expanse of field behind you and buried your face in your hands, trying to calm down, willing the tears to stop, telling yourself that you loved Sam. You were getting married. The ring on your finger a constant reminder of what was supposed to happen tomorrow and when you finally lifted your head from your hands your eyes fell on a bright patch there in the field at your feet.

Wildflowers.

Walking back to the party felt like a blur, Steve’s words playing over and over in your mind, and when you came back into the glow of the strung up lights your eyes searched frantically for Sam. If you could just hold his hand, pull him in close you’d know you loved him. Would know you wanted to marry him, but he wasn’t there and everything felt like it was unraveling.

“Hey, are you okay?” Robin’s hand was at your elbow and when you looked up at her, her brow furrowed with worry. “Whoa, what happened?”

“I just need to find Sam, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, yeah I think he was just over here, c’mon. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just need Sam,” you choked out, Robin’s hand grabbing yours and pulling you along.

“Okay, we’ll find him, it’ll be okay.”

And as you rounded the corner into the quiet of the barn you heard hushed voices. Robin flicked on the overhead lighting to reveal Carol and Sam talking, huddled close to one another and your heart stopped in your chest.

“Wha–Sam? Carol?”

Carol’s eyes went wide and she took a couple steps back, giving you one of her smiles, all flimsy and saccharine sweet. “Oh my god, we thought you left!” she exclaimed, trying a laugh and you heard Robin mumble something under her breath next to you.

“Well, I didn’t. It’s my rehearsal dinner.”

“Babe, we were just trying to plan a surprise for you. For tomorrow, that’s all,” Sam said, taking the few steps toward you, taking your hand in his, but you felt sick to your stomach. You knew that look in his eye, his tone of voice overcompensating for something, lying.

“Yeah! Totally,” Carol said a little too enthusiastically and Robin had had enough.

“Oh my god, totally great!” she mocked, throwing one of Carol’s empty smiles back at her before taking your hand. “It’s super late, Carol. Time to go,” this time Robin’s voice was void of all joking and the look she gave the other girl was enough to push her to leave.

“Absolutely, sure thing. See you tomorrow! Can’t wait,” she purred, but her smile faltered as she met your gaze, walking quickly back out into the night.

“Babe, we really were planning a surprise, I–I just want tomorrow to be perfect,” Sam took your hand from Robin, shouldering her out of the way and she scoffed, still lingering in case you needed her.

“In here? In the dark?” your voice wobbled a bit as you realized what you were implying and Sam squeezed your hand, but it felt suffocating not warm or safe like Steve and you pulled it away. “I’m gonna go home, get some sleep.”

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need,” Sam crowded around you, rubbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, but you didn’t want any of it and shrugged him off.

“Can you give me a ride, Robs?” you asked, pulling away from Sam, your feet not moving you fast enough.

“Yeah, yeah I can give you a ride,” Robin took your hand again, Sam finding himself alone in the wide expanse of the barn on the eve of your wedding.

The happiest day of your life.

“Listen, can I tell you something?” Robin said shifting into park as she turned down the radio and idled in your parents’ driveway.

“Sure,” your voice was small, timid, not you as your thoughts still lingered on what Steve had said. What Sam and Carol had looked like huddled close together in Hop’s barn. Asking yourself why. Asking yourself what you really wanted.

“I don’t think you should get married.”

Your head whipped up from your lap, brows knitted together. “What?”

“I don’t think you should get married,” Robin said again voice softer this time, knowing the weight it carried as she let it settle in the car between you.

“It’s literally happening tomorrow. What d’you mean don’t get married,” you were scrambling now, afraid of what would happen if you let her woods take root, the doubt that had been hovering deep down now pushing itself front and center.

“People do it all the time–”

“No, they don’t!” tears were welling up against your lashes, your face growing hot, willing yourself not to fall apart.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. Of course I’m gonna support you no matter what you decide,” Robin quickly recovered, grabbing your hands in hers as her expression softened. “Just–” a small sigh escaped her and she squeezed your hand, “–I want you to be happy. That’s all. Are you happy?”

Are you happy?

Robin looked at you, eyes wide, hands still holding onto yours and you felt yourself wrestling with the three simple words she’d thrown at you. Swallowing thickly, you couldn’t meet her gaze and pulled your hands away, grabbing at the door handle.

“I’m happy, I am,” and even you knew how flimsy it sounded, but your friend didn’t push you on it.

“Okay, okay. See you in the morning,” Robin said softly and all you could do was nod in reply before shutting the door and hurrying up the walk and into your parents’ house.

You didn’t bother showering as you moved quickly up the stairs to your room, not wanting to face your parents, not like this. Quietly shutting your door you felt the sob in your chest clawing its way up your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw back your covers and hid in the deep pile of blankets. You thought for a split second to call Sam over at Jason’s, ask him if he really loved you, if he still wanted to go through with this, but you buried your face into your pillow and tried to push your thoughts away.

Doubt had started blooming in the pit of your stomach from the moment you’d said yes, but it had just felt like the next right thing. Felt like you were supposed to. Date your boyfriend for a couple of years, move in together, get married. Right? But the things you tried hard to ignore kept bubbling up.

Your hesitation when Sam first asked you out. Your trips home on breaks and seeing Steve. The feelings you wrestled with when you saw him. When he talked to you and listened, really listened and looked at you. How it felt like a giant weight being lifted from your shoulders without Sam there.

Your first fight with Sam over money. How he spent so much of it going out with his friends. How you knew they stayed out late and talked to other girls. The high he got from it too much to stop him from doing it. The smell of the other girls on his clothes.

The first time he cheated on you and begged you to take him back. How the first person you wanted to call was Steve, but you called Robin instead.

And now the planning. All the disagreements and arguing and fighting and you were exhausted and he couldn’t even keep away from other women, from Carol, still after all that time.

Are you happy?

Robin’s question looped in your head and you knew the real answer.

No. But then…

Tap. Tap, tap tap.

Peeking your head out from under your covers your ears strained, trying to decide what it was you’d heard. Then it happened again.

Tap, tap. Tap.

There was only one thing that could make that sound, an all too familiar one that pulled forth a flood of precious, happy memories.

Rocks on your window.

Steve.

Crawling out of your bed you hurried to your window and yarded it open, sticking your head out and looking down like you’d done hundreds of times before. “Steve?” you hissed into the dark, and as the wind blew the clouds away from the moon, it shone down on the lawn below you washing Steve in soft light.

“Can I come up?”

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, but knew there was no debate. “Yeah, hurry up,” and you moved out of the way as he started climbing the gutter before you’d even said yes.

Stumbling in through the open window Steve straightened up and dusted off his old, faded Hawkins High Athletics shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging on his hips, the same pair of dirty, beat up Blazers on his feet.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, tongue jammed into his cheek as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hi?” it came out expectantly, a question, but you couldn’t hide the relief in your voice at the sight of him standing there in your room.

“Listen, I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier,” he said, walking to your bed and plopping down on the messed up covers.

“Oh, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have–”

“Just let me apologize,” he said shaking his head with a half laugh, expression mismatched as it twisted with something between regret and care.

So you listened and kept your mouth shut, instead deciding to settle down next to him on your bed, thighs pressed together on the small twin sized mattress. Silence lingered for a minute, but the air was heavy, loaded, like how it felt right before a thunderstorm. The sky holding its breath before opening up and pouring rain, cracking the sky in half with bright streaks of light.

You both stole a look at the same time and it pulled a smile from each of you, tiny breathy laughs falling from your lips, but when it quieted again the tension flooded back in.

“Do you love him?” Steve broke the quiet and you felt your chest tighten. When you hesitated he grabbed your hand in his. “Do you?”

Your pulse fluttered against your neck, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water and stumbling and choking on your words, but you knew the answer. You both did. You’d just admitted it to yourself before Steve had fallen through your window and the familiar feeling of panic started to creep in around you, flinging you back to right before you’d left home again. Before you met Sam.

“Steve! Wait!”

You were practically running after him as he stalked back to his car, the sky on fire with the sunset and streaked in cherry reds, sunflower yellows, and bright tangerine.

He fumbled with his keys and dropped them into the grass at his feet, “Shit.”

“Please, just wait,” you were out of breath as you finally reached him and you saw his frame crumple as he loosed a sigh.

“Jesus, what?” his tone was short, clipped as he stared through his car window, your reflection playing against the glass.

“It’s only for another year, it’s not like I’m gonna be gone for–”

“Yeah! Another year!” Steve spun around to face you, cheeks red and lips pulled down into a frown, a muddied mixture of sadness and anger swimming in his eyes. “Just admit it, you don’t wanna come back here, and that’s fine! But don’t make me wait. Please don’t make me wait anymore. It–” Steve choked on his words and dropped his eyes to his feet, biting on the inside of his cheek to blunt the feelings swelling his chest. “It hurts. To sit and wait here for you. Please,” his voice edged on pleading and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“It’ll work! It’s just a little longer–”

Steve took a step into you, crowding over you, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the closeness of him. He lifted a hand to your cheek, his brows pulling together as he looked down at you, eyes searching yours. “Then be with me. If it’s not that long then be with me. Long distance for a little while until you’re done with school,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Steve. I can’t–” your throat tightened around what you were about to say, scared of what that commitment looked like, scared to fuck it up between you, scared to lose your best friend, but your hesitation broke it anyway.

He dropped his hand away from your cheek, tongue flicking out to run along his lips as he held back his anger. His sadness. Frustration. Snatching his keys from the grass he unlocked the driver side door and flung it open rough.

“No! Wait! I just mean–”

“No!” he shouted into his car and then lowered his voice, tears streaming silently down his cheeks, “No. No more. Good luck with…everything.” And he piled into his car, slamming the door shut and ignoring your cries as you crowded against his window, asking him to stay. To talk about it. To figure things out, but he shifted it in drive and took off down your driveway and into the night.

You weren’t going to fuck it up. Not again.

“No,” and as your admission left your lips the heavy weight that had settled on your shoulders over the last two years started to melt away. “No. I don’t love him.”

Steve’s hold on you tightened, pressing your fingers into his palm and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, eyes searching yours, “Don’t marry him.”

Don’t marry him.

Your breath quickened and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to reason out what you’d just decided and you felt anxious, but Steve was there. And your room was warm and safe. Just like it was when you were younger. When you both laughed and traded secrets and made promises to each other in the dark.

“But. The wedding. The flowers, the cake, the guests–”

“Fuck ‘em,” Steve said, still holding onto your hand, and his words swirled around in your head. “It’s only a wedding. This is your life,” brushing the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “You’re not happy.”

And you weren’t. You’d had moments with Sam, moments in time where things felt right and like maybe it could be forever, but they were just that. Moments. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’d sacrificed, compromised, bent and twisted yourself to be what Sam wanted, what he needed, not what you wanted and when you finally looked up at Steve you felt tears welling up against your lashes.

“What will my mom say,” your voice wobbled as you tangled your fingers with Steve’s and he gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“She wants you to be happy too. She’ll be okay.”

You were dizzy, hazy with thoughts of not being engaged anymore, buzzing with the anticipation of what this decision meant. Of what it held. What the future could be and you looked back up at Steve, tears started to quietly spill down your cheeks and his hand was quick to gently wipe them away. You shook your head, holding your breath, and when you let it go everything came tumbling out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for making you wait. For hurting you. For everything–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Steve softly chided, but you pressed on.

“No, no it’s my turn,” you said, voice thick through your tears, and then you turned to cup Steve’s face in your hands. A small smile pulled up at the corners of your mouth even through your crying and you pulled in a breath, “I love you, Stevie. I always have.”

The look on his face then was one of pure adoration, of relief, and he gave you a smile back, “I know. I love you too.”

I love you too.

Pulling him into you, you felt the soft warmth of his breath across your cheek, the smell of his shampoo and fresh laundry flooding your senses. Hesitating, waiting for him to tell you it was okay and he silently answered you by leaning in and closing the gap between your lips, pressing his softly into yours.

It was slow and languid, a thousand I love yous. Years of want and aching set free into the dark of your room as you breathed each other in like air. The feeling of Steve scattering you out into the stars to live with the one you’d deemed as yours, falling between all the glittering constellations and floating in each other.

I love you too.

Reluctantly Steve pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open to look into yours and he took hold of your waist. “Run away with me,” he whispered.

Your brows pulled together, “Run away?”

“Yeah. Right now. Throw your suitcase in my car and we’ll just drive. Get away from everything, just for a little while until you’re ready.”

Mind racing, working through the logistics of what he was suggesting, you almost protested, but something in you fought back. Told you to listen to your heart, not your head. What did you want? What would make you happy?

“Okay.”

“Really?” Steve’s face lit up at your response, like he hadn’t expected it, and you felt your lips pull up into a smile, tears drying on your cheeks as you let the feeling swallow you up in its warmth. The embers in your chest crackling and flickering with life, with a fire that burned only for him.

“Yeah, yeah I don’t care. I just want to be with you,” you felt yourself grow more and more confident, more decided and Steve pulled you in again to press another kiss to your lips. This time it was hotter, bolder, a confession of passion and you grinned into him.

“C’mon, if we go now we can get coffee at that shitty diner just off the highway outside of town,” he was grinning now too.

“They make the best pancakes,” you laughed softly and Steve’s smile melted as he looked at you.

Finally.

He helped you gather your things, carrying your suitcase out to his car, and you felt like you could fly. Lighter than you’d been in years and the thought of just driving down the road with him filled you with warmth. Like watching the sun set at the end of a hot summer day. Like dipping your feet in the pool after sitting in the heat. Sweet like the taste that followed after a tart drink of lemonade.

You left your engagement ring on your dresser, a small folded note under it for Sam telling him sorry. Telling him you hoped he would find what he wanted. That you knew he’d be okay. And as you closed the door to your parents’ house you felt like you were closing that chapter. Ready to start new. To free fall into this open-ended story with Steve and as you settled into his car your eyes caught a small patch of lawn on the side of your house. Bright and soft in the moonlight and full of color.

Wildflowers.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[keelsforreals]

refrain: chapter 1, good

kageyama x f!reader

chapter 1 - refrain masterlist

♪ ༘⋆ good

a/n: i recommend listening to the song when it comes up!! it's not required for the story or anything but i think it adds to the reading experience :)

kageyama opened his laptop and leaned back on his headboard. the sun was setting and the air was thick, "perfect yn listening weather" in oikawa's words. he had no idea what that meant, but kenma silently agreed so he took his word for it.

the stream was apparently starting soon, so he opened the youtube tab he pinned the day prior. looking back at him through the screen was yn. yn... the name was somehow familiar to him, not just from kenma and oikawa talking about her, but he couldn't recall from where. shelving that thought for another time, he focused on the stream and listened.

"hiii! oh wow you guys are coming in quick". she pushed her hair back with both hands, and smiled as her eyes darted back and forth from the camera to where the chat was. yn spoke softly but clearly, kageyama wondered if her singing voice was similar.

"so..." kageyama blinked, pulled away from his thoughts, but determined to stay focused this time. "today's stream is going to be pretty chill. if you didn't know, i had a concert last night at onigiri miya. were any of you there?" her eyes move to the chat and she smiled. "yes tooru, i know you were there". unconsciously, kageyama looks to the chat and cringes as he skims oikawa's numerous messages. in all caps. with far too many emojis.

yn laughs and reads a few messages from other viewers before changing the subject. "okay, uh, i should probably stop talking now. it's singing time". she pulls an acoustic guitar from off screen and positions it in her lap as she starts talking. "now this first song, i'm sure you're all familiar with. especially one of you. and for that one person watching," something between annoyance and sadness shows on her expression for just a second, so fast that kageyama feels like he's the only one that noticed. "i've moved on. we both know that. so why can't you?"

kageyama wants to ask every question he could. he's always been nosey. but before he could act on any urge to type in chat, he feels embarrassed. 'this is a stranger. what am i doing?'

"anyways. this is mud"

...

a whole hour of songs and short talking breaks in between, but kageyama hasn't looked away once. her face is relaxed, her eyes either focused on the chat or on her hands while playing her guitar. he finds himself smiling at her looks at the camera and remarks, fulling feeling her music when she starts a new song.

the final song ends with a long strum of her guitar. she exhales and takes the guitar off of her lap as she starts to talk again. "alright guys, i think that's it for tonight". yn smiles and looks at the camera, kageyama feels like she's looking right at him.

"thank you for watching, i'm really glad i could-woah HEY!" her head whipped around to her bedroom door as it flew open. "YN!" kageyama squinted at the screen, realizing he knew the unfocused face and voice behind yn. nishinoya? why was he there? what was the big deal?

"woah, noya dude what's your problem? im live right now"

"turn off the stream! now like seriously!"

"good or bad?"

"good i promise just turn it o-" he reached over yn's shoulder and ended the stream. just like that. not knowing what just happened or what to think, he pulled out his phone.

p.s!

➳ first chapter is done lets go!

➳ i will probably make a playlist with some songs that go along with yn's streams and post it later

➳ sorry that this is like all writing i got really carried away (dw it will go back to mostly smau next chapter)

➳ nothing bad happened! the news is really good

➳ oikawa is a double texter (more like quadruple texter) and he feels no shame

➳ noya and yn check up on each other by saying "good or bad", it's easy for the both of them and it can lead to a conversation if needed or just stay the one word answer if they dont feel like talking about it

sypnosis: the infamous point to a crowd member at the end of all of yn’s concerts wasn’t something she ever thought that much of, after all, it was just a joke her friends and bandmates thought would be funny. however this simple move to an unaware and uninformed boy makes both of them question if it really was just a throw away joke this time, or something more. something neither of them expected to come out of this small, crowded gig.

taglist (open!): @lvtilzs @diorzs @nymphsdomain

[the-firebird69]

It took this guy like five years to figure out the pseudo empire had ground bases and it's taking him forever to figure out what the empire is up to he's really really dense and does not have that much power and things he can fart around and be a playboy and insult people and stink like a rat as Zeus hey he doesn't have the look of Zeus at all it's another Greek character not even a god. It doesn't look like the video game either and I suddenly said this you stink but yeah he's not figured it out completely so what do we do get a huge fishing rod and drop him down there take him on a tour of like a entertainment center and then like a museum that has it and then like this is like this natural progression oh you have to like hit him in the head like 50 times it was a Mac that grab his body and smack him in the head with his head they're not metaphors I'm just saying I'm not really into teaching this a****** anything if you want him running rampant all over you like some sort of addicted crack w**** and really that's probably a reason BGA if you if he actually learns what's going on but she probably does knowhe's going after your stuff even though he's losing the stuff he took already so I heard him saying it earlier and he doesn't know about it and he thinks you're daft and you said it's below too but it's for a big laser and he was surprised and he ran around saying I don't understand what that is and he started getting mad and he is in trouble with the law and he's going to go to prison people say it too they're going to take him to prison tonight they're trying to get him we need them out of there

Bja

We're going after this guy I'm going to put him in prison he breaks the law all the time I can't stand him anymore

Mac daddy

They haven't really lost that much it is like 25% and that's significant but John remillard thinks that he took more than half of it cuz he's an ass everything's going after the cameras on 8% he took which is a waste of time it would have the same amount or more if you waste all the time taking everybody's stuff and we're laughing because you stopped manufacturing it trying to steel try to steal it and you're in fighting. The empire has a lot more than that and she just this f****** dolt who took everyone's time you're a f****** fart and your face is a fart and he doesn't respect her in any way and he can because you're such a stupid. Then he says he's going to put something in the general population so it's time to get rid of this piece of crap

Thor Freya

Olympus

The water level is going down and as we approach low tide it's pretty far literally it's about five and a half feet down now when it reaches low tide at about 3:30 a.m. and it changes a little it will be at about 6 ft 5 that's pretty far down considering that it is raining and so forth and they're still removing diamonds from 50 to 100 and they did not come in to remove the plugs but they are taking the ships out. And the ships are being removed and they're small and they're coming out of ponds and so forth and lakes and some of them they're removing the soil when they come out and it's water it makes like a new Little pond they're removing the small ones that are closing all the way to a mile it's about 18 holes in the West Coast there's not that many it's small like 80 ft wide 10 124 wide and by tomorrow mornings are going to be 2 to 10 mile. And that includes two segments and there's about 40 holes and to take the ships out and tomorrow they're going to start taking out the plugs on the ones that are inland it's not very nice and they're kind of mean people too and obtuse and it's not slow here huge fights down below and a huge fights over the ships it's not that fast. There are those like about 27% mack more lock of the population last month and that was including the pseudo empire then you add the minority warlock had about 10 or 12% and they're 39% or so they work 55% 4 years ago so you have that number and you take out the eight or so percent and you're left with 19% for mac and warlock and that's been a little down it's about 14% and before the weekend and that's significant because overall they would have gone from 27 to 22% and then this week he does remember me saying it the Mac morlock drops to about 12% and over the past two days they dropped another percent to 11%, so that's only 3% off but it's at 19% total warlock population at 11% the islands of theirs have about 5% and 2% and it's really it seems like a ton of them but he's saying that the pseudo empire is above and beyond that 27% and they are they're about 9% and the minority monologue for 7% above so you start at 43% about a month and a half ago down from 55% and that's total warlock so start over again Max warlock therefore out of that number was 27% and they lost about 5% up until a couple days ago and two more percent huge armies so they're 20% and yeah that makes sense it would be about 12% on both Islands 4 and 8% and 8% in the general populace. Forming 22% and the pseudo empire are at about 8% they lost the percentage and the minority warlock are about 7.5% roughly about the same as they were so there's 37.5% still and tonight we expect to Mac morlock to go down off Islands about 2% and on the islands 2% and I'll bring them to 18% but that's an estimate and we always are very high but 8% is not very good compared to what they were and it's made a big difference. There's a lot of stuff in the news but this is a more reasonable display of numbers and very close but they lost a lot of people and a big chunk of it was opening up those caverns for the max and they're ordering it to happen again

Thor Freya

I'm serious about what happened tonight I'm so far a huge fleet of three billion ships was heating up and it was going to go after me and it started to they kept doing it and their attacked and they're gone. And they're destroyed and they got wrecked so they're getting ready again and they still have quite a few ships I'm totally started with about 29 billion shifts and they're down to about 21 billion and I'm going to lose more shortly. They are heating up 2 billion out of that 21 and it'll probably lose them

Hera

Olympus

[hwangsies]

zephyr

(n) a gentle breeze

pairing: seo changbin x female reader (hwang hyunjin x female reader)

genre: rebound to fwb to dumbasses to lovers(?), college!au, undergroundrappers!3racha

warnings: angst: mentions of infidelity, heartbreak and abuse, seemingly unrequited love, they are both so dumb and prideful its annoying, fluff, bad attempt at comedy, minsung on the side, cursing, alcohol consumption, smut: protected piv, oral (f), studio sex, praise, mild degradation, hair pulling, mild spanking

wc: 10k

enjoy <3

-

September

"y/n?" you hear your roommates faint voice calling out your name.

You dont bother to answer because you know she's going to come into your room at any second now.

And you're right. "y/n??" Your door opens a few seconds later.

You groan in response, not looking up and instead staying in your little cocoon of blankets.

"no babygirl what are you doing?" you feel the bed shift under lias weight when she sits down.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" you grumble back, her hand gently rubbing over your arm.

"sulking, babe" she replies, dropping her purse to the ground.

"10 points for griffyndor" you sniffle as you scooch and sit up, pushing the blankets half off of you at which she sighs.

"wooyoung was not that good of a boyfriend for you to still be crying over him" lia presses her lips together concernedly.

She's right, you know it. It has almost been two months and you still feel like crying everytime someone mentions him.

"i know" you nod somewhat defeatedly "still, i was with him for almost a year and" you hiccup "he literally ripped my heart out and trampled on it"

"i know" lia nods understandingly "but i do think it would help if you went out again, even if its just for a night, you know just to be around people"

"it probably would but i just dont have the energy for it" you shrug your shoulders.

"i get it, girl, i really do" she pats your knee "both of my exes cheated on me, my only luck was that they were both awful at hiding it so i found out pretty quickly" she huffs.

You force out a chuckle, from what you heard from one of the girls that wooyoung cheated on you with, was that it started 3 months into your relationship.

"this the most humiliating thing ever, lia" you scoff "being with someone for so long, trusting them and telling them all your secrets and you think they are doing the same for you but then realizing that they were faking it all along to have multiple side chicks, and the fact that i was too oblivious to figure it out is the icing on the cake" you rub your forehead, feeling a migrane approach due to the sheer amount of crying you've been doing.

She seems to know what's happening and hands you the water bottle next to your bed "hydrate, sis"

So, you do. Taking four big gulps out of the water bottle.

Once you place the bottle next to you and tie your hair in a messy bun, you look at your roommate more thuroughly now that the tears are wiped away.

"you look pretty" you compliment her makeup and casual yet chic outfit "what'd you do tonight?"

Her contagious grin spreads over her face, eyes turning into little crescents.

"chris took me to the fair in town" lia grins before her face drops "I'm sorry, this is maybe not the time to ta-"

"No! It is, tell me about it" you interrupt her.

"O-okay" she nods hesitantly "well, i dont know if you've been keeping track but today was our fourth date and it was amazing" she gushes.

"I cant believe how much i like him, like, its crazy" she squeals a little, at which you giggle.

"so, fourth date huh? And he hasnt tried to get into your pants yet?" you quip.

"nope, i initiated our first kiss and other than that nothing" she whispers the last words before laughing.

"thats great" you smile, genuinely happy for her.

"Hmm yea" she sings as she gets up "i'll go to bed now too"

"Oh, hey, i have an idea" lia speaks up when standing in your doorway "chris has this performance thingy in two days, you should totally come!" she offers enthusiastically.

"he has a band?" you ask, partly to distract her from her offer.

"Hmm not really a band, they're a trio and there is this performance on saturday where a bunch of underground artists perform, i didnt fully listen if im honest" she giggles "but you should come with me!!" she jumps excitedly.

"i dont kno-"

"y/n pleasee? You'd do me a huge favor too because i dont know anyone there" lia pleads, clutchig her hands together.

"you know chris" you rebuttal.

"and what am i supposed to do when he's performing? stand around like an idiot? please y/n" she pouts.

"I dont really think this is my type of crowd..." you scratch your head.

"please please please" she jumps once more.

You sigh and tilt your head as you look at her sternly.

"one of his friends is single" she adds carefully.

"and cute" she sings "from what ive seen in pictures" she adds.

"lia" you groan.

"I'll do your laundry for two weeks if you come with me"

"you will?" Your head snaps towards her.

"yes i will! i promise, just come with me, please?"

A long sigh leaves your lips "okay"

-

The strong bass of the loud music rings in your chest as soon as you step foot into the club where “3racha” is supposed to be performing tonight.

Lia comes to a halt and you almost run into her because you were to busy checking out the venue and the other people around you.

“sorry” you mumble and hold onto her arm to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

She pulls out her phone and clicks on her and hers and chris’s chat, to figure out where to meet them, you assume.

“okay” lia puts her phone back into her jeans pocket and grabs your hand “they’re backstage, lets go”

“can we just go there?” you almost yell for her to understand what you’re saying.

“yea! Chris said he’ll make sure we’ll get in, come on” she tugs at your hand for you to walk faster.

You waddle behind her, barely dodging some drunk guys beer that goes flying before you arrive at the sign that says “artists only” and a black curtain behind it.

The guy standing infront of it raises a brow at the two of you before pointing at said sign “read ladies, no fans allowed”

“hey, they’re with me” a guy, you assume to be chris, taps on his shoulder and shows his artists badge, half of his body still covered by the curtain.

The bigger guy sighs and lets you through.

“thank you” lia lets go of your hand to loop her arms around chris’s neck once behind the curtain, they kiss and you look around.

Not because you are particularly uncomfortable, maybe still just a little bitter at happy couples.

You audibly clear your throat when they are still making out after a good ten seconds.

“oh-uhm” lia looks back at you after breaking the kiss “chris, this is y/n, y/n, chris” she giggles.

“hi y/n, nice to meet you” he gives you a quick hug and a smile full of dimples, finally understanding why your roommate is always swooning about him.

“hi” you smile back, somewhat forced.

“lets go to our dressingroom” chris suggests and leads the way.

Opening the door, he lets you and lia walk in first.

One guy is dancing around in the middle of the room, singing along to the current song that’s being played in the background with a water bottle as a pretend mic.

Another is one sitting on the small couch and laughing at him.

“oh, hi” the guy stops singing and quickly hides the bottle behind himself at which chris chuckles.

“guys, this is lia and y/n” chris points at the two of you before closing the door behind him.

“ooo the lia?” the waterbottle guy wiggles his eyebrows, at which you cant help but laugh as well, he isn’t very tall but looks lean.

“what is the lia supposed to mean?” lia laughs when chris comes up and slings an arm around her waist from behind her.

“I..well-I talk about you sometimes-“

“sometimes my ass” the guy sitting on the couch scoffs amusedly, your eyes shift to him.

He’s wearing a white baseball cap and a pretty tight fitted black Versace shirt, making his shoulders and arms look broad.

His hands clad in black half-gloves, he adjusts his cap before locking eyes with you and quickly looking down again.

“channie hyung must’ve forgotten his manners, I’m jisung” the waterbottle guy speaks up “and that’s changbin hyung” he points at the most intimidating-looking of the three of them, on the couch.

“channie?” lia squeals as she sits down with chris on the couch changbin is sitting on as well, jisung coming up to you.

“hey, you want something to drink?” he asks, pointing at the mini bar feigning cockiness  “we have a mini bar”

“woow” you chuckle, playing along “sure I’d love a drink”

“how come we’ve never met on campus before?” jisung asks after mixing you a vodka soda and sitting down on the second couch in the room.

“oh, you all go to uni here as well?” you ask surprisedly as you sit down next to him..

“yea” he grins “that’s how we all met” he points at lia and chris almost sitting on top of each other “and those two”

“oh I didn’t even know that” you take a sip, trying to loosen up “I guess I wasn’t listening when she was ranting on about him”

Jisung laughs and changbin joins the two of you as he sits down next to jisung.

“they just started calling each other bubs I feel like throwing up” changbin groans as he drinks from his beer.

You huff before jisung speaks again, looking from his friend back to you “he’s usually more romantic” he quips.

“I bet” you joke with him.

“yup” changbin locks eyes with you “that’s why I’m single, I’m just too romantic” he shakes his head sarcastically.

“ooh” you squint your eyes “emotional unavailability? love that in a man” you grin, at which his eyebrow quirks up amusedly.

“speaking of man, did minho hyung text you when he’d be here?” jisung asks his friend.

“yea he said he’ll be here in 5 and that you should finally buy a new phone” changbin answers, reading it from his phone at which jisung scoffs before turning to you.

“minho is my boyfriend” he explains “he’s hot” he grins at which you laugh “I bet”

“so, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” jisung asks after taking a sip of his drink

“not anymore” you scoff, jisung inhales excitedly “guess what, changbin is single as well” he grins from ear to ear, comically looking back and forth between you two.

“oh, please dont start like lia” you chuckle, leaning forwards to lock eyes with changbin “no offense, but I only attract assholes”

He shakes his head, amusedly raising his brows “none taken” he grins at which you huff before a young woman comes into their dressing room to tell them they’re up next.

-

Back in the crowd, you and lia find a good place just as the lights dim and the music begins to play.

Suddenly you feel someone run into your side “woah I’m sorry” he quickly apologizes “this guy pushed me” he looks behind him.

“its alright” you nod, loud enough for him to hear.

Once they come outside, the crowd goes wild.

“jisungieee” the guy next to you all over sudden screams, you have to smile when looking at him.

“are you minho by any chance?” you ask him.

He nods aggressively “yea! do you know jisung?”

“I just met him backstage” you yell over the loud bass.

Minho laughs and nods before the bass drops and chris starts the first verse.

“he’s great right?” lia screams into your ear when the first chorus ends.

“yea” you nod, actually surprised at how good their music is, now understanding as to why the crowd loves them so much.

Changbin starts his verse and suddenly you feel somewhat entranced, his voice is rough and his bars are hard, definitely fitting his appearance but what entices you is the passion with which he appears to be performing.

Throughout their whole performance you cant take your eyes off him, the way his arms flex when he grips onto the microphone a little harder or the way his jugular sticks out when he growls into the microphone.

Not to mention the thighs you somehow didn’t notice in their dressing room, you watch them strain against his leather pants and feel even hotter suddenly.

Their last song ends and lia is quick to be in your ear about going backstage to chris again.

“oh you know chan hyung?” minho overhears and chimes in.

“yea she’s his date” you point at your overly excited roommate.

“changbin just texted and said they’re upstairs in the vip lounge, come with me” the brunette holds out his hand for you to take, which you do and grab lia with the other one.

“do you know where you’re going?” you ask minho after a minute of pressing yourself along sweaty dancing bodies.

“yea! they’re here a lot” he yells back “its right over there” he points to a flight of stairs where yet another bouncer is standing in front of.

“hey minho” the bouncer greats him with a fist bump “these girls are with you?” he points at lia and you.

“yea” he nods.

“trying something new, I see” he laughs atw hich you frown.

“oh, nono” minho chuckles uncomfortably “I’m still with jisung”

“ah-alright well, have fun” the bouncer moves after looking you all up and down, letting you walk up the stairs.

“wow, you’re famous” lia giggles at which minho huffs and shakes his head amusedly “yea, for being the only non-straight person they know”

“baby” you see jisung jump up from his seat in the spacious lounge as soon as you enter.

“hii” minho holds out his arms for him to run into, you cant stop yourself from smiling when you see jisung jump into his boyfriends arms.

“lia, y/n come over here” chris waves at the two of you.

“you were so good, baby” you hear minho praise jisung behind you as you walk over to the large round sitting booth where chan and changbin are sitting.

Lia slides into the booth and cuddles into chans side “you were awesome” she squeals as you sit down on the other end and grab a fresh glass from the middle of the round table, holding it next to changbins where he’s pouring cherry vodka into.

“can i get some?” you ask, he glances at you and smirks before silently filling your glass with a  double shots worth of the slightly rosy liquid.

“so, how did you like it?” he asks as he leans back, taking a swing of his drink.

“you guys were really good” you nod “to be honest I didn’t expect such high quality music”

He laughs, leaning his head back a little, his adams apple bopping with it.

You cant help but notice the sheer sheen of sweat that expands over his thick neck, obviously coming from their escapades on stage just now.

“what did you expect? a bunch of drunks playing wonderwall on the guitar for more drunks?” he grins, straight white teeth on display.

“hey, don’t come for wonderwall” you raise your hand jokingly at which he laughs.

“I wouldn’t dare” he raises his hands comically.

“hey” you whip your head around to see jisung and minho “scoot, please” jisung speaks again.

“oh-yea” you grab your drink and scoot further into the half circle-shaped booth.

“so what do you study?” changbin asks, his voice catches you off guard because you hadn’t calculated how close you’re sitting to him.

You turn to him to realise you’re close enough to smell his perfume and aftershave.

“uh- I- art” you answer shakily before taking a sip of your drink just to pull a face afterwards.

“jesus christ” you cough a little and hold your chest as changbin laughs.

“its stronger than you’d think” he grins “can you handle it?” he teases when your eyes get a little watery.

You stare at him for a second before playfully rolling your eyes “im good” 

His eyes trace over your face as you look around before he breaks the silence ”i can get you something else if you want” he offers.

“oh-uh no, I’m just being dramatic its fine” you chuckle.

“so...what do you study?” you change the topic.

“I’m majoring in music” he says, stretching out his arms over the backrest “all three of us are”

“oh, so you like, produce all your own stuff?” you ask, your eyes jumping to where his forearm touches your shoulder, that’s leaning against the backrest.

“yea, channie hyung composes the most, me and ji write a lot” he explains,

“thats really cool” you nod, looking over to the mentioned guy.

Changbin follows your eyes and huffs when the both of you see him and your roommate sucking face again.

After a few seconds they stop and giggle before standing up to go somewhere.

“where are they going?” you huff.

“I guess they want some alone time” he chuckles, lifting the arm close to you to take off the cap he’s still wearing.

You flinch when his forearm brushes your shoulder.

“are you scared of me?” he asks slowly, stopping his movements, cap still in hand.

“no- no” you shake your head, chuckling “I- its just been a while since I’ve gone out and I don’t know” you shrug “I feel a little lost”

“hm” changbin cocks his brow at your words, running one hand through his dark brown locks.

You divert your eyes from his bulging bicep back to his face quickly when he speaks again.

“any reason why?” he leans back again.

“oh, just a shitty ex and a shitty breakup” you shrug “I’m gonna spare you the details”

“aw, no please, tell me he had a small dick and everything, now im invested” he jokes.

You tsk at him and push his arm playfully, feigning annoyance.

“that still doesn’t answer my question as to why you jumped like that when my arm touched you” changbin raises his brows expectantly.

You open your mouth to speak but-

“we’ll go get some more to drink” minho interrupts you at which changbin nods.

“so?” he asks again, once minho and jisung leave.

“did that ex hit you? give me his address I’ll beat him up for you” changbin deadpans.

“no” you shake your head after taking another sip “he didn’t” you huff incredulously.

“its just- you look kinda scary” you blurt out finally.

His eyes widen before he falls into a boyish laughter, which you cant help but join.

“me?” he points at himself before laughing again, the image you had made up in your mind about him cracking.

“yea!” you raise your brows “when you look like this” you furrow your brows and lightly squint your eyes to mimic his resting bitch face.

“what the-” he splutters laughingly.

“stoop, don’t laugh” you hold onto his forearm, still giggling yourself.

He calms himself, subconsciously scooting closer to you in the now empty booth.

“maybe scary wasn’t the right word” you snicker, looking down.

“I think the word you were looking for was: sexy, hot or mysterious, maybe handsome-” he quips, grinning to himself when you start laughing again.

“no, no, I know what I meant” you joke back, just now noticing how close he is, his knee touching yours as his whole torso is turned to you.

“so none of my suggestions are accurate?” he cheekily raises one brow at which you scoff playfully.

“maybe one or two” you see his eyes jump to your lips.

The air suddenly feels thick around you with tension, changbins tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip while his eyes are still locked on yours.

You breathe in before the two of you lock eyes again "so…are you gonna kiss me, or just stare?"

He raises his brows at your sudden boost of confidence, grinning amusedly.

"what happened to me being scary?" he counters before urging you to swing one leg over his thighs with gentle hands.

You take a seat on his lap, straddling his thick thighs before looping your arms around his neck "i dont know, i think i'm into it" you quip.

His hands wander up your waist "well then i wont make you wait any longer" he grins, looking at your lips one last time before closing the gap inbetween you two.

You meet him in the middle, changbins grip on your waist tightens when his plush lips land on yours.

He pulls you closer to him, pushing his tongue past the seam of your lips.

You can taste the cherry vodka on his tongue but it riles you up even more, sucking at the wet muscle before his hands wander over the swell of your ass and each grab a handful of the flesh; your short skirt riding up when you subconsciously grind against his lap.

“be careful” he mumbles against your lips, gently tugging down the piece of fabric so you don’t expose yourself to bywalkers.

“where’s the fun in that?” you cock your head to the side teasingly.

Changbin scoffs and leans in again but you get interrupted by jisung.

“hey, we-oh” you whip your head around.

Jisungs frown turns into a grin “uh” he chuckles “we dont mean to interrupt but chan hyung texted minho and they’re going to your place” he points at you.

“ugh, seriously?” you mutter.

“I’m sleeping at minhos so, hyung you’ll have our place to yourself” he winks at changbin.

“so, we’re out too, have fun you guys” minho waves teasingly as jisung drags him away.

For a second you stare after them, until a gentle squeeze at your waist makes you turn around again.

“you could come over to my place if you don’t want to go to yours right now” he offers, eyes flickering to your lips when you bite at your lower one.

-

This is usually like not you, letting some guy you barely know take you home.

But here you are the next morning, looking up at the ceiling, changbins room flooded with daylight.

You sit up and look at the still unconscious changbin next to you. His blanket had fallen down and exposes his toned torso, barely covering his private parts.

A tingle forms in your lower abdomen when you think of what happened here a few hours ago.

But you pull yourself together and start looking around for your clothes.

You spot your bra on his desk and your skirt and shoes on the floor, gently shimmying out from underneath the blanket; you grab your skirt and slide it on without your panties, not being able to find them anywhere.

Right as you clasp your bra behind your back, changbins morning voice makes you flinch “you would’ve just snuck out?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes as you look back at him.

“what? did you take me for a breakfast lover?” you quip as you slide into your shoes, looking around for your shirt.

“damn, that’s cold” he chuckles lowly, sitting up and watching you stride around his room.

“where did you put my shirt?” you ask, bending down to look under his desk.

“maybe you should worry about your panties first” he snickers, eyes glued to your core when you look back at him.

You kiss your teeth and straighten up quickly, having forgotten about your lack of underwear.

“not that that wasn’t a great view just now-“

“you’re not helping” you interrupt him, eyes lighting up when you spot your shirt in the hallway.

“why so serious all over sudden?” he grins “last night you were everything but tense”

You scoff as you pull your shirt over your head and stuff it into your skirt before grabbing your purse and phone.

“I have an exam in 2 days and I haven’t studied yet” you exhale.

“I could drive you home-“ he runs a hand through his messy hair.

“I’ll call a cab, uhm- thanks for last night” you hurriedly smile before walking out.

“bye” changbin calls after you, frowning and dropping back down onto his bed when he hears the door shut behind you “have a nice day I guess” he mumbles to himself.

 October

You cling your jacket closer to your body as you walk through the howling wind the seasonal change had brought with it.

When you arrive at lias faculty building you take out your phone to see if she texted you about when her lecture would be over.

lia : hey babe, chris took me to his place -received at 4:17 pm

You roll your eyes, typical you think.

you : are you serious? you begged me to walk home with you -sent at 4:25 pm

You see her the little blue bubble pop up, indicating that she’s writing a message.

lia : im sorry!! please don’t be mad, he surprised me :((( -received at 4:25 pm

You scoff and turn off your phone before slipping it in your coats pocket alongside your hands. Typical, you think, ever since that night at the club the two of them have become inseparable and lia cancelling on you had become a regular thing. You are happy for her but you also miss your friend.

“y/n?” a familiar voice calls after you right as you start to walk away, you freeze and turn around.

“yea?- oh” you swallow harshly when you see changbin walk your way.

“hey” he smiles brightly and you have to bite back a grin at the cute beanie he’s sporting alongside his slightly red nose due to the cold weather.

“hi” you smile timidly.

“you never texted” he tilts his head at which you nod.

“yea, sorry I actually never got your number” you look at the ground “uh- what are you doing here?”

“oh um im on my way to the studio” he points at a nearby building “that’s the music faculty”

“ah okay, well” you lock eyes “have fun then” you turn around again, ready to walk away.

“hey” he catches up with you “you wanna join me? check out some of our new stuff?” he burries his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I don’t know, changbin I really don’t want to date right now-“ you start at which he chuckles.

“I didn’t ask you to marry me” he stops in his tracks, grinning when you do as well, locking eyes “come on, I just need an unbiased opinion on some new tracks” he tilts his head.

You inhale before looking around you “I could drive you home after? So you don’t have to walk through this weather?” he offers, raising his brows at which you purse your lips.

“alright” you give in, changbin smiles and extends his elbow for you to hold.

You simper and coyly hook your hand around his arm as the two of you start walking.

-

“this is awesome!” you point to his laptop a minute after he played the first song for you.

Changbin grins bashfully and leans back into his desk chair “you think?”

“yea, the hook is super catchy” you bob your head as his eyes fix on your profile “you’re really talented, changbin” you catch him blushing before putting on another song.

After a few other songs, he takes off his headphones when you take off yours.

“can I ask you something?” he asks, you glance at him.

“you just did” you quip at which he huffs, “sure” you nod.

“how much of that night do you remember?” he fiddles with one of the rings on his left hand.

“why?” you ask back.

“well, you seemed really upset the next morning so I got kind of scared that you didn’t actually want it and I kind of took advantage of you” he recalls the night the two of you spent together.

“oh, no. you didn’t take advantage of me, I wasn’t even  drunk and I would’ve told you if I had changed my mind or something. That was just the first time I ever spent the night at a guys house for a one night stand” you absently pick off some fuzzies from your jeans.

“plus I had just come out of a relationship so I was a little too emotional anyways” you chuckle.

“alright” changbin nods “just wanted to make sure” he smiles down at his hands “cause I remember all of it”

You whip your head, scoffing when you see him with a shit eating grin on his face.

“hm” you feign ignorance as you lean back “I don’t know, there wasn’t a lot to remember” you grin mischievously.

He laughs out loud, leaning forwards “no?”

You shake your head, pursing your lips comically “nah”

“cause I remember you shaking and screaming” he grins.

You shrug your shoulders “weird, must’ve faked it” you deadpan, fiddling with the headphones you’re still holding.

Changbins tongue prods on the inside of his cheek, huffing when he catches you grinning.

“right” he grins slumping into his seat a little further.

A thought flashes in your head when your gaze drops to his crotch and thick thighs, you swallow some spit in frustration as you feel your core getting hotter.

He was right, the night was amazing, maybe that was even part of the reason you stormed out the way you did.

You clench your thighs for some relief, anything really.

“want me to refresh your memory?” your eyes jump up to meet his, you open your mouth but nothing comes out; do you want him to?

Yes. Yes you do.

So, you get up and straddle him on his chair: his hands instantly gripping at your hips, pulling you closer.

“someones eager” he grins, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“shut up” you whisper before crashing your lips onto his.

Changbin groans when you tug at his hair, inviting you to slip your tongue in between his lips and grind your hips over his crotch.

He hisses before propping himself up on one armrest and holding your lower back with the other as he stands up; you squeal but he holds you before sitting you back down on the desk, next to his laptop.

“now who’s eager” you grin when his hands find the waistband of your leggings and tug them down with your panties in one.

He huffs as he bunches your leggings and panties around your ankles before slipping underneath the fabric barrier and inbetween your legs.

“by the looks of it..” he runs a finger through your wet folds “still you” he quips before pushing one finger in without warning.

You moan, you head dropping back onto the hard wooden surface.

“look at me” changbin orders as a second finger prods at your entrance, you whimper but prop yourself up on your elbows.

He curls the two fingers and pumps them almost violently, the palm of his hand smacking your clit with every pump.

“oh god-“ you yelp, your eyes scrunching together as your hips buck up.

“its changbin but god is fine too” he quips as he lowers his head, you curse at him, even though you have to laugh a little.

“you’re so annoy-ah!” you cry out because suddenly his tongue is lapping over your swollen clit, sucking on it forcefully when you claw one hand into his already messed up dark locks.

“fuck-bin- gonna cum” your hips stutter and you feel the pleasure that’s blooming in your tummy is getting ready to snap.

“mmh” he humms against you “cum then, baby” he moans, knowing full well what the added vibrations are doing to your body when your chest arches and your mouth drops open.

Your cries fill the studio as you clamp down on his fingers; he rides your through your high, holding down your hips with his unoccupied hand because you squirm with the euphoria that’s filling your veins.

“good girl” he mumbles, removing his fingers from you before bringing them up to your lips “now, suck them clean for me, yea?” he grins, lips and chin shiny with your cum.

-

“finally” you huff when arriving at 3rachas lounge in a club out of town; where they had just performed “this club is huge” you breathe, jisung scooting and changbin letting you squeeze past him to take a seat in between them as they chuckle.

Lia and chan already lost in their own world again as she drags him to the dancefloor, squealing when chan teasingly squeezes her sides as they disappear into the crowd.

“they are made for each other” minho sighs, sitting down and giving jisung the second beer from his hands.

“I know right” you lean back, breathing in.

“you’re still out of breath?” changbin laughs at you at which you hit his arm.

“stop it, oh my god” you feign annoyance “you know how exhausting it is to dodge beer bottles and not loose lia? she’s like a Chihuahua, I swear, you loose her once and its over” you chuckle, jisung and minho laughing too.

“you just don’t have any endurance, woman” changbin grins teasingly.

“that’s so not true” you laugh incredulously “what about two nights ago-“

“AH-“ jisung interrupts you, placing his hands over his ears “please spare us your sex stories, I hear enough of that when you’re over, babe”

You huff and changbins cheeks turn red.

“you guys are fucking?” minho asks, eyebrows raised as he takes a swing of his beer.

“good job keeping up, baby” jisung pats his boyfriends thigh teasingly at which he tsks at him.

“are you together or what?” minho props his elbow on the table to support his chin with his hand as he looks at the two of you expectantly.

“no, we’re not” you chuckle somewhat uncomfortably before looking over at changbin who just grins awkwardly.

“just here to be a good friend and keep the groupies away” you joke “right?” you nudge changbin with your elbow at which he nods swiftly, looking down again.

“yea, baby don’t be so old fashioned” jisung teases his boyfriend who just rolls his eyes playfully.

“speaking of groupies” minho mutters, spotting a group of girls just before they approach the lounge.

“hey jisungie, you wanna dance?” a pretty blonde girl bats her eyelashes as she leans down a bit to expose more of her cleavage, making jisung grin.

“baby, you’re gorgeous but I’m very gay” he nods apologetically, “Oh” she straightens up “really? You sure?”

You and changbin have to bite back a laugh when jisung nods again “very sure, thanks though, for coming”

She shrugs and looks at changbin “what about you? Wanna dance?”

“uh-“ changbin starts but you cut him off “he’s with me actually” you tilt your head.

“for real?” she stems her hands into her hips as she looks back at her posse, scoffing.

“yea” changbin loops his strong arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him “that’s my girl, so a little respect, please”

“aww” you coo dramatically as you play along, putting your hand on his jaw to turn his head towards you before you lock lips.

“whatever” you faintly hear the girls voice get quieter when changbin slips his tongue in between your lips.

“they’re gone” you hear minho but changbin pulls your legs to dangle over one of his thighs as he grips your waist.

“guys” jisungs voice only registers in the back of your head when changbin sucks at your bottom lip and you run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

“can I get you some more beers?” the waitresses voice pulls the both of you out of your trance as you break the kiss abruptly.

Jisung laughs, shaking his head at the both of you before turning to the waitress “we’ll take a round of shots I think”

  November

 “fuck-harder” you gasp “..mhh binnie-shit” you moan while changbin pounds into you from behind, gripping your hip tighter with one of his hands; the other one migrating up your back to gather the legth of your hair, twisting them before he pulls at their root.

You groan when you feel your hair getting pulled back, neck stretching as he picks up his pace.

“like this? fuck you love this don’t you?” he breaths ragged, but you can hear the dirty smirk that lingers on his lips every time you have rough sex..

You moan out loudly when he releases your hair and pushes your torso down onto the mattress, your hand pulling at the sheets , needing something to grip and release the pleasure.

“fuck- answer me, slut” he grunts and delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

You cry out “yes-yes-fuck-love it” you desperately gasp as he leans down to you, earning a low chuckle which sends shivers down your back.

His lips latch onto your shoulder blade and start sucking on the skin until a purple mark blooms under his lips.

“fuck” you let out a strangled yell when the hand on your hip makes its way to your front and he started circling your clit with his fingers, the pace and firmness matching his thrusts.

You cry out for him as you clench furiously around his cock “that’s a good girl” he whispers, only letting go of your clit when you flinch in overstimulation.

“cum for me- fuck baby, cum for me and let the others know who’s fucking you this good” he rasps in your ear. Not 5 seconds later, your orgasm ripples through you and you would’ve collapsed completely if he wasn’t holding you up.

You’re still panting when both of his hands go back on your hips and push them down, laying you flat on the mattress before he picks up his pace again with his last left strength to reach his own high.

“shit- y/n“ he grunts when you tighten around him again and you feel him filling the condom with some drawn out groans and a sharp hiss.

After a few seconds of nothing but heavy breathing filling the room, he pulls out and falls next to you on his bed.

You wince at the soreness that’s already presenting itself when you turn around on your back, looking over to him; you watch as he ties a knot in the condom and throws it into the trash next to his desk.

“kobe!” he exclaims gleefully at his perfect throw before looking back at you to see if you saw.

“jesus christ why am I sleeping with you” you hold your hands over your face, hating the fact that it made you laugh.

He gasps, feigning to be offended “that’s not how you speak to the guy that just made you cum three times”

“you are so full of yourself, seo changbin” you shake your head amusedly as you sit up.

“wait, I’ll clean you up” changbin is quick to rise from his comfortable position to grab some tissues from his nightstand.

“come here” he mumbles, gently urging you to lie back down before carefully wiping your own cum off your inner thighs and mound.

You watch him as he gently moves to wipe the tissue over your puffy folds, your hips jumping a little when he accidentally passes your clit.

“sorry” he grins, pressing a kiss to your angled knee; at which you feel your heart lurch forward a bit.

Woah, wait.

You’ve been seeing changbin just for sex for almost two months now, you’ve even gone with him other performances and after parties to keep groupies away and be his arm candy and never has your heart done this.

Mayday. Abort mission.

“should be good for now” changbin shrugs, shooting you a sweet smile before turning away from you to also get rid of the tissues.

You use the opportunity to shuffle to the side of his bed and slip on your panties before grabbing your bra.

“hey, you wanna leave already?” changbin asks “I thought we could hang” he tucks his hand under his head as you look back at him, clipping your bra closed “watch a movie or something”

“sorry, I promised lia I’d help her clean the apartment today” you lie, surprisingly quick, before pulling your hoodie over your head.

“so you’re just gonna fuck me and leave again?” he jokes dramatically “I don’t even get cuddles?”

“shut up” you chuckle.

“am I nothing more to you than a pretty piece of meat?” he continues as you slip into your jeans, rolling your eyes playfully.

“a toy you use when you need stress relief??” he holds his chest dramatically.

You step into your shoes and raise your brows at him.

“are you complaining?” you ask playfully.

“nahh” he pulls his covers over his abs as he watches you grab your jacket from his desk chair.

"At least give me a 'gopdbye, thanks for the bomb dick, kiss" He grins when you scoff at him. So, you lean over him and press a quick peck to his lips; he whines playfully when you lean back up again, sitting up and catching your lips with his roughly once more.

“alright, see ya” you shrug."

And shit, your heart does it again. What are you doing?

You break the kiss and ruffle through his hair.

“ugh” he huffs annoyedly, fixing his hair “I hope you have trouble walking” he quips as you go for the door.

“I’ll text you if I don’t” you wink at him before closing his door, leaning against it from the outside and closing your eyes.

“fuck” you whisper to yourself before making your way through the guys apartment.

“don’t break his heart, y/n” minhos voie comes from behind as you twist the doorknob.

“huh?” you trun around to look at him, he’s wearing a shirt that you know to be jisungs so he must be staying over.

“I’ve known changbin for a while, he seems tough but he’s a softie deep down” he crosses his arms over his chest “he hurts easier than you think”

“we- we’re both not in this for anything serious” you stammer “what do you mean?”

“I see the way he looks at you, y/n” minho smiles softly “I’m not telling you how to live your life, just, be honest with him… and yourself for that matter” he quirks one brow up, smiling before disappearing around the corner.

 -

 You squint your eyes as you’re trying to make out the label of the cereal boxes in the upper shelves, looking back at your phone you check to see what brand lia had texted you about so you don’t accidentally buy the wrong thing.

“fuck” you mumble when you see her desired cereal at the top of the shelf, so you reach up but to no avail.

“y/n?” you lower your heels to the floor again before turning around to see…

“hyunjin?” you face drops in awe.

“hey!” the tall young man smiles widely, opening his arms and inviting you to a hug.

“wow, hi” you hug him back.

Damn, what happened to him? The last time you saw him was before he moved away in 10th grade.

You used to be good friends with him, or, well, the freakishly skinny and lanky highschool version of him you met in dance class.

By the feel of it, even through the trenchcoat he’s wearing, you can tell he’s bulked up quite a bit.

After letting go of him, you cant help but stare.

His acne had cleared up and his brown hair is chin length with the top parts pulled back into a little pony tail, leaving some face framing strands in the front.

“wow- you look-“ you blink a few times to make sure you’re not dreaming “…really good, hyunjin”

He smiles on the ground, his pretty plump lips parting to reveal beautiful pearly whites which used to be covered by braces.

“so do you” he grins.

“no- I mean you look… good-good” you splutter, laughing awkwardly “like what are you a model now or something?”

“actually, yea- part time” he chuckles.

“oh” you huff  “wow of course” you shake your head laughingly, blushing furiously when he doesn’t break eye contact.

“so- uhm” you gulp, making him grin even wider “what are you doing here?”

“I’m transferring here” he nods “better dance programme” he explains shortly.

“oh you still dance” you observe out loud “I haven’t danced in a while” you look down.

“you should come by after practice sometime” he offers “to catch up- or dance if you want” he giggles, a little dimple appearing on his left cheek.

“yea, I’d love that” you smile, nodding before he takes out his phone.

“put in your number, I’ll text you” he smiles softly when holding it out to you.

“mhm” you agree, saving your number in his phone and trying not to think about him staring at you the whole time.

“alright well” he checks his phone for the time, you guess “I gotta get going, only came here for this” he chuckles, holding up a carton of milk that you, weirdly enough, haven’t noticed until now.

“alright” you nod before he moves in for a hug again.

“bye” he smiles when loosening his arms again.

“bye” you mumble, staring at the back of his perfect head as he walks away.

You were about to pull out your phone and rant to lia about what just happened, when he stops in his tracks and turns around.

“almost forgot” he grins, reaching up and getting your cereal from the top shelf; winking when he places it in your hands, your body freezing.

“bye” he grins, walking away before you could thank him.

-

 You had taken hyunjin up on his offer and met him in the dance studio after class where he showed you some of his contemporary pieces before you made your way to the popular coffee shop on campus together.

“-no seriously the second piece was my favourite I think, but they were all amazing!” you smile up at him at which he shakes his head cutely.

“can you stop complimenting me, y/n I’m getting all nervous” he laughs softly.

“oh please” you quip “with your talent and looks I would think nothing could make you nervous” you roll your eyes playfully.

Hyunjin huffs, opening the coffee shops door for you “you can” he says softly as you walk past him, you turn around to him to see him blush a litte but diverting his eyes to the big menu above the counter.

Did he just flirt with you? No, you must be tripping.

You look around to see only two other people sitting in one of the booths together, the cold must keep most people home, you think before hyunjin gently pulls at your sleeve to get your attention.

“what do you want?” he asks, the barista looking at you expectantly.

“uhm- a hot chocolate please” you say, reaching in your purse to get your wallet.

“I’ll take the same” hyunjin smiles politely, giving the barista money.

“on me” he smiles down at you.

“oh, thank you” you smile sheepishly, letting go of your purse again.

Once your hot chocolates are ready, you sit down in one of the booths, hyunjin sliding in to sit across from you.

“I was back home last week before I came here, you’ll never guess who I met” hyunjin grins.

“who?” you ask curiously.

“tim” he grins.

“tim?” your eyes almost pop out of your head “as in my first boyfriend tim?” you laugh, holding your hand to your face incredulously.

“but he moved away as well?” you half ask.

“yea he said he was visiting his grandparents, but guess the best part” hyunjin bites his lip

“what?” you chuckle.

“he got a nose job” hyunjin bites back a laugh when you gasp surprisedly “really?”

“one word” hyunjin says “botched…”

“aw no, poor tim” you frown, looking down at your hot drink as memories from back in the day come back to you.

“he always used to put his hand up my shirt when hugging” you frown, making hyunjin laugh.

“it was 9th grade y/n what did you expect?” you scoff at his rethorical question.

“I don’t know, some basic manners maybe?” you counter playfully…slowly letting the conversation die down as you both take sips from your cocoa.

“how come we never dated?” he asks softly after aminute of silence, looking up at you.

“we were friends?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“come on” hyunjin sits back in his booth “you must’ve known I had the biggest crush on you”

“you did?” you almost launch forwards in your seat, making hyunjin laugh.

“well, I guess you didn’t know then” he giggles, hiding his face in his hands embarrassedly.

“anyways, I would’ve paid good money to be able to slip my hand up your shirt” he jokes, cheeks reddening when you laugh.

“I honestly liked you a lot back then” you say “if you would’ve said something we might’ve actually gone out” you shrug gently.

“damn, way to rub that in my face” hyunjin grins.

You hold his eye contact for a few seconds before you feel your blood rushing to your cheeks again, quickly lifting up your mug to take a sip and partly cover your face.

When you put your mug back down, hyunjin grins widely, mumbling a “cute” before slowly bringing his hand to your chin and gently swiping his thumb over your top lip where a foam mustache had formed.

You gulp when he swiftly sucks the foam off his thumb, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.

When he notices, he leans over, slowly as if scared to overwhelm you.

That’s when minhos words pop up in the back of your head.

“be honest with him, and yourself for that matter”

But you aren’t together, and hyunjin is great and you want to kiss him but you know it would be wrong.

However, before you know it his lips are on yours and you’re not doing anything to stop him.

They are soft and inviting and you let him swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips, but then the little doorbell rings and you hear lias voice, followed by a male one before they abruptly stop, making you pull away abruptly.

Oh.

There they are, lia, chan, jisung and changbin; looking at you.

“y/n” lia grins widely, approaching your table “aren’t you gonna introduce us?” she squeals, hyunjin clears his throat and sits back down.

The three guys hesitantly follow lia when-

“woah- hyunjin?” chan speaks up.

“chan-hyung?” hyunjin gets up from his place to receive a hug from the older one as your eyes divert to changbin who is looking at the ground.

You aren’t together. Then why do you feel so guilty and why does he look so disappointed.

“he’s cute, girl” jisung grinningly interrupts your daydreaming, nodding towards chan and hyunjin who are still talking.

You force out a smile.

“how do you two know each other?” lia asks curiously.

“he went to my highschool, the last few years” chan grins.

“what a coincidence” you mumble, almost ironically.

“I went to highschool with y/n too, the first couple years though, then I moved away” hyunjin explains “oh, im sorry, I’m hyunjin by the way” he turns to jisung and changbin.

“I’m jisung, this is changbin” jisung smiles, pointing at his grumpy friend.

“I’m lia” lia grins “his girlfriend and her best friend” she points at chan before snuggling up to you, giggling.

Jesus, woman where do you get the energy? Is what you want to ask but you just flash another forced smile, hoping this moment will pass quickly.

“where were you guys?” you change the topic, hoping changbin would maybe look at you if you spoke up.

“oh, I caught them all huddled up in the studio” lia grins “they probably haven’t been outside in a week again” she giggles.

“true” jisung quips.

“hey lets all sit down” hyunjin suggests.

“I’ll get a coffee” changbin mumbles, walking back to the counter.

You usher lia to make way for you to get out of the booth, following him.

“bin” you stand next to him as he looks up at the menu but he ignores you.

“you could at least acknowledge my presence, your highness” you quip annoyedly.

“what do you want me to say, y/n?” he mutters.

“I didn’t know this would happen with him or I would’ve told you” you say, looking back at the other four talking and laughing in the booth.

“we’re not together y/n, you’ve made that very clear; if you wanna kiss lord farquaad go ahead, I’m not stopping you” he looks over to the booth as well.

“jesus christ” you huff “why are you so defensive then?”

“hi” changbin greets the barista who just came from the back “I’ll have an iced coffee to go, please” he orders.

“the world doesn’t revolve around you y/n, maybe I’m having a bad day” he answers when the barista makes his way to the coffee machines, you feel a lump from in your throat.

“yea, well thanks for making mine bad as well” you turn on your heels to join the others, hyunjin sees you coming back and scooches to make some space for you next to him.

You smile and thank him quietly when he also gives you your mug.

“everything alright?” he asks quietly, as to not disturb the others conversation.

“yea, just had to ask him some stuff” you smile at which he smiles back, turning back to the others.

After a minute changbin approaches the booth with his iced coffee “hey, I’ll run back to the studio I gotta finish that track”

“ugh, changbin I just dragged you out of there, stay for a second” lia protests and jisung nods along.

“nah, gotta get it done tonight” he shakes his head.

“alight see you later” chan nods.

“nice to meet you, man” hyunjin says, nodding at him as well.

“yea” changbin answers tight-lipped before walking out.

 December

”I’m sorry, hyunjin” you frown “I’m just not ready for a relationship after what happened with my ex-“

“its alright y/n” his large hand encases yours “you don’t have to explain yourself to me”

You sigh in relief “I’m sorry I tried to rush things, it just, seemed to good to be true to find you here and everything” he says.

“but I’ll wait for you, if that’s what you want” he looks up at you.

“oh, jinnie you shouldn’t have to do that” you shake your head “I’m sure there are great girls out there who are emotionally ready to be with you”

“yea, but you’re the girl I want to be with” he says softly and your heart shatters into pieces because you’re not sure he’s the guy you want to be with.

-

You fight yourself through the crowd at 3rachas last performance of the year, at the same venue where you met them for the first time. Just like the time before, chan makes sure lia, hyunjin, minho and you are able to come backstage.

“I’m excited to see you perform, man” hyunjin grins at chan, patting his shoulder “your stuff was already dope back then…” they continue speaking as you enter their dressing room.

Jisung greets his boyfriend as you and lia sit down on the leather couch.

Changbin is standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair before his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, but he just diverts them to chan who’s grabbing a beer for hyunjin and himself, you guess.

“did you have to invite him?” changbin semi-whispers to the older one, nodding at hyunjin, chan just frowns confusedly,making changbin shake his head and walk out.

You look at hyunjin who is talking to minho and jisung, and doesn’t seem to have heard changbin. So, you get up to follow him out but lia holds your wrist “y/n you cant keep running after him” she hisses.

“he cant keep treating me like im invisible, I just want to clear the air” you free your arm and walk out to see changbin almost at the end of the corridor, walking out of a heavy door which, you think leads outside.

After reaching the door you open it to find him outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building, looking down at his phone.

The cold air hits your skin and you shiver, only wearing a top and some jeans since its warm in the club.

Changbin notices you and looks up “what do you want, y/n?” he asks.

“that was real classy back there” you comment, holding your arms to your body to preserve some warmth. Changbin huffs, unfazed as he looks back at his phone “whatever, y/n”

“no, not whatever bin” you step closer to him “he asked me to date him” his head shoots up and you lock eyes, for a second they are soft in the way they look into yours but something changes and they turn mean when he speaks again.

“so? that’s a you proplem” he shrugs.

“its not a problem at all, he’s sweet and loving and cares about me but for some reason im standing here, hoping that you’ll give me a reason to not be with him” you feel your throat closing up with anger mixed with confusion when he starts chuckling.

“you’re not serious are you?” he squints and your heart drops, tears pooling at your lashline.

“of course not, I couldn’t expect someone as stubborn and- and comunicationally incompetent like you to understand anything about feelings” you turn on your heels when a teardrop rolls down your cheek.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, making you turn back “I’ve wanted to be with you since that moment in the club where you kissed me infront of all these girls. It was always you who was stubborn y/n, you never wanted to spend anymore time with me other than fucking” he snaps at you, taking a breather to start another sentence but you cut him off.

“-then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask quietly and he looks down.

“because- fuck” he lets go of your wrist “I didn’t want to scare you away, you in my bed was better than no you at all. But then fucking prince charming appears out of no where and sweeps you off your feet-”

“but I don’t want prince charming I want you” you blurt out, tears now streaming down your face, making him take a step back as his eyes soften.

“then why didn’t you say anything?” a small smile tugs at his lips as he closes the distance between you, gently running his hands up your arms, feeling the goosebumps brought on by the cold.

You huff, looking down and watching one of your teardrops melting a tiny hole into the snow before looking back up “because I’m stubborn and comunicationally incompetent” you sniffle “and stupid apparently” 

A grin spreads over changbins face as his hands cradle your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumbs “so, you wanna be stubborn and stupid together?” he whispers, locking eyes with you.

You press your lips together, trying to keep yourself from sobbing even more as you nod.

He chuckles softly ”you can stop crying now, baby” at which you nod beathing in shakily but smiling when he pushes some hair out of your face.

“can you kiss me now please” you sniffle whiningly, huffing in a laugh when he pulls a face.

“i dont know babe, you’re a little snotty right now-” he jokes.

“shut up” you hit him, chuckling when he pulls you even closer by your waist and gently connects his lips with yours.

A soft wind blows through your hair and you loop your arms around his neck even tighter, deepening the kiss at which he moans, holding your waist tighter to his body.

The door creaks open and “are you guys finally together?” minhos voice makes you break the kiss.

“yea” you grin when jisung comes out after his boyfriend.

“nice” he grins, nodding at you.

“yea yea nice, beautiful love whatever, hyung we’re up, lets go” jisung rambles, laughing and running back inside when changbin pretends to hit him, minho shaking his head and following him.

“you’ll watch me yea?” your boyfriend grins at you, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.

“from the front row, baby”

-

a/n: omg im finally done wth this took me so long yall, i started writing this sin september (which is why the fic starts in september as well lol) sorry about the winterly feelings i’m pushing onto you in the end but last week it literally snowed where i live so i was like uh?!?!?!? okay lets write some snowy shit, global warming ftw i guess....anyways i hope u liked it pls leave some feedback and/or ur favourite part ig lol i would appreciate it alot <33 (not proofred yet oopsie)

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taglist: @kpopscape​ @oopsie-whats-this​ @zhaqifa​ @synnocence​ @changlix-mp4​ + some besties who always inspire me wether they know it or not😭 @bangtantaegi @hanflix @bruh-changbin @hyunyin @yyxgin @hyunsluvv @unstableskzstan @violethhj @missskzbiased @cartierbin @dom--minnie

[ackerlert]

Sneaky Link

Pairings: Porco x fem reader x sugar daddy!zeke

Summary: University reader becomes Zeke’s sugar baby after meeting each other at her work, which is a stripper, ofc. Eventually develops a relationship with Porco Galliard, of whom Zeke employs ;)

TW: alcohol usage, oral (m / f receiving), food (icing) play, mirror sex, phone sex

You needed some money during college, and tutoring stupid high schoolers wasn’t making the bills. Plus, you couldn’t put up with their slowness one second longer.

When Sasha took you out for a night at the strip club to relieve some stress, her joke that you could always make bank shaking your ass for old men actually sounded quite appealing. It was a lot more fun than tutoring, anyways. 

Out of curiosity, you found yourself browsing the internet for openings at nearby nightclubs. Soon you were watching YouTube videos of strippers going through their daily routine, counting their tips, and describing their success in the industry. You were hooked.

You ask Hitch to take pole dancing lessons with you, and she doesn't suspect any of your true intentions, since this was on your bucket list of things to do together.

Soon you secured yourself a job at a local strip club. The first person you confided in was, unsurprisingly, Hitch. She was surprised you actually pursued being a stripper, but the shock didn't really last for long considering her knowledge of your freaky tendencies.

Hitch advised you to be careful, and she was particularly worried about how you would manage to fit this new job into your tight school schedule.

It was simple: you would take your classes, do your assignments, and report to your job at night. You’d work through the closing shift and get back to your shared apartment with Mikasa, Sasha, and Hitch sometime past 2am.

Zeke is a regular.

He gives you larger tips than any of the other girls.

He even pays for private sessions, which consist of you dancing for him mostly an hour at a time.

Eventually you two fuck it out in a booth of the club.

He asks if you'd like to “do this again sometime”. Naturally, you agreed. He exchanges phone numbers with you and asks for your cashapp. 

Blushing because you didn't realize he intended on compensating you for your arrangement, you agree to give him your account number.

You and Zeke continue this for a couple months, growing more addicted to the orgasms he gives you every time.

You had two generous sources of income now.

You found out a lot about zeke: he owned a decently large company, fucked a lot of women before he met you, and he was even more freaky than yourself. 

One day after a session with Zeke, you're sprawled out on the side of his bed, toying with the golden hair that trailed down his torso, and staring up at the ceiling, mind completely fucked out.

“I have a business event coming up soon,” Zeke states.

You hum in approval, not expecting zeke to continue on.

“It’s plus one.” He pauses, “I was wondering if you would like to join me.”

You turn your head to look at Zeke, almost asking him to repeat himself. Was this like a date thing?

Zeke turned to look at you too. His eyes glossed over at the sight of your surprised face and post-sex hair floating around the crown of your head. He smirked, visualizing the way he had made that sex hair. Gripping your h/c locks and pulling your head back, pounding into you from behind.

Your lips were swollen from being stretched around his thick cock, making him cum round after round. Now they were parted, unsure as what to make of his question.

Zeke repeated himself, “Are you free next Saturday?”

“Y-yes. I’m free.” You said, “I would love to go to your work thing with you.” A smile graced your lips. He fucking loved that smile. Loved seeing it bloom on your face when your eyes rolled to the back of your head, begging to take more of his cock.

“Alright,” he grabbed for his phone, pulling up the information from his calendar. Your phone dinged, no doubt zeke sending you over the event details. “It’s formal attire. Do you need to buy something to wear?” He glanced up lovingly from the screen at you for a mere second. “Fuck it, never mind that.” His eyes reconcentrated back onto the phone. Your phone dinged again, the familiar melody of the cashapp notification filling your ears.

“Let’s take you shopping, princess.” His legs swung over the side of the bed. A back completely full of endless scratches faced you while he stretched those long arms of his. His back muscles rippled as he did so, the sight making your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

“Wait!” You say desperately and propping yourself up on the bed. You didn't intend on opening your mouth, but now you had to commit to it.

Zeke side glanced at you, acknowledging your pathetic request.

“Let me suck you off one more time,” you said. You added, “before we go.” A husky chuckle escaped from zeke’s throat. “Such a slut for me.” “What a good girl, knowing just the way to make me hard.”

Porco and you meet each other at the business event, it’s an instant click. He’s employed by Zeke. Soon you're exchanging numbers with him.

These business parties became more frequent with Zeke. And every time, Porco was there. You two would sneak off to help yourself to drinks while Zeke was bombarded with potential buyers inquiring about his product.

Porco makes you laugh so much. Honestly, it’s probably the alcohol, but every joke he cracked earned a cute giggle from you. It only made him harder for you than he already was.

“I could go a lot longer than him, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

Sooner than later you’re texting Zeke that the alcohol was killing your stomach, and you just had to get out of there right away. 

Porco didn’t wait to stick his strong hands in your pants when you tumbled into the taxi.

“Gonna take you away from that old man’s dick, yeah baby? Give you this big cock like you deserve?”

You make it back to his large apartment, practically humping his clothed leg on the elevator ride.

By the time you’re inside his place, your panties are soaked and the black lace Zeke bought you is falling from your shoulders.

Porco throws you on the bed, not leaving you any time to remove your heels. 

He climbs over you and just starts completely obliterating you with open mouthed kisses across your collarbone.

You don't fail to notice the mirror above Porco’s large bed, seeing the way he straddles over your small body.

Porco sits up from his position on the end of the bed and grabs for your ankles, yanking you closer to him. Just as he hums into your folds, a buzzing emerges from your purse in the middle of the living room.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing the pattern as Zeke’s contact. “It’s Zeke,” you groan.

“Answer the phone, pretty girl.” Porco says with a devilish smirk.

“Wha-?!” Your face fills with terror.

“I said answer the phone.” Porco grows stricter in tone.

“O-ok” your hands shake as you make your way across the floor to where your purse was.” As you accept the call, Porco motions you back to the bed.

You nod, doing as he says.

“Hey princess,” Zeke says with a smile on the end of the phone.

“Hi,” you say shakily. Porco gives you a menacing look.

“Not feeling good?” Zeke refers to your text. 

You let out a shy “Nuh-uh” in response.

“I’m sorry baby,” Zeke says, “I can pick you up so you can spend the night with me in case you feel any worse.”

“No!-“ You say startled, “I mean, no, my girlfriends have me all bundled up back at my apartment.”

Silence from Zeke.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad.” He adds, “I wanted to make you feel a little better than they could tonight.”

You look at Porco, a little intimidated by his intense stare on you. He can hear Zeke’s toying with you from the other end of the phone. He nods, urging you to play along.

You giggle softly, a bad attempt at sounding sicker than usual.

“Really? How so?” Porco slides down the edge of the bed, focused on your legs.

Zeke clears his throat, obviously getting off at the anticipation of phone sex.

Some shuffling is heard on the other end of the phone before Zeke says, “You know, maybe cook you some food. That layered strawberry cake you like yeah?”

You hum in satisfaction, but quickly noticed how your approval angered Porco.

He aggressively pushes your legs apart, eyeing your wetness.

“Use that icing on you.” Zeke says, “Make you filthy when I run it over that pretty body of yours. I’d fucking lick it off you because you taste so good.”

Porco starts to kitten lick between your folds, earning a whimper from you.

You imagine Zeke piping the vanilla icing onto your torso as he pushes himself into you, smearing it across your breasts and stomach with his rough hands.

The pressure between your legs rises as the licks grow longer and rougher across your clit. Porco suckles on that bundle of nerves, and you can’t help but cry out a moan.

The sounds from Zeke’s side of the phone indicate he’s jerking off vigorously at this point. “Say my name, kitten.”

You look wildly down at Porco, who stops his motions to shake his head at you. No way he’d let you moan another man’s name on his own bed.

“Daddy,,” you drawl out. You earn approval from Porco, who resumes lapping at your pussy.

Porco taps your thigh, indicating to you that it was time to hang up on Zeke, who hadn’t cum yet. 

“Oh gosh, Zeke baby” you start, “One of the girls is coming in i have to go-“

“Wait, y/n-“ but you didn't let him finish. You sigh with relief knowing you can fully indulge in Porco now. He grips your thighs roughly, leaving bruises to be discovered tomorrow.

“What’s Zeke doing now, huh?” “Pumping his weak cock thinking about this tight little pussy of yours?” “I wonder what he’d think if he knew your pussy was taking my tongue so well right now. Acting like such a whore for somebody else.”

Porco pulls himself off of your sweaty body, panting and licking up your wetness. 

His eyes are dead set on you, and you felt small under his glare. His hands grab under your arms, quickly flipping your positions. “Bounce on me for it,” he growls.

You nod eagerly, situating yourself above him. Your face reddens as you align your entrance up to him, nervous about his judgement. 

Porco softens, noticing your hesitance, “It’s okay baby girl,” His warm hands caress the side of your cheek, thumb grazing your plump lips, “You’re doing really good,” Porco looks earnestly up at you, flashing you a soft grin. You press into his hold on you, strands of hair covering your forehead that tangled around Porco’s fingers.

You finally push yourself down on Porco’s length, his large girth stretching you full. Porco moans at the new feeling, and you can’t help but whimper at the burning pleasure. Your hands roam around Porco’s strong torso, feeling down his thick abs and rubbing circles into his sides. A low groan emits from his chest, and you admire his expressions from above.

You begin moving along his hard length, his tip hitting just the right spot each time. Keeping a slow pace, you tease Porco a little longer, but he’s quick to bark at you to go faster. You let out a playful giggle, “Okay, you’re the boss.” “Doing so good putting Zeke in his place, hm?”

Porco groans at your words, and you swore he was growing larger inside of you at the thought of demoting his Zeke.

Your movements quicken and Porco continues to let out strings of curses.

“Yeah ride my cock baby, just like that. Just like you do for Zeke.”

The thought of another man puts butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself falter. 

Porco doesn’t miss a beat, however. He quickly thrusts up into you, earning a gasp from your mouth. His hands fly to your sides, balancing you while he does all the work. You whimper at his rapid pace, nearing your climax.

“Porco,” you moan, “I-ah, g’nna cum.”

“Ok, baby,” he says in between thrusts, “Cum then.” 

That was all you needed to hear before spilling your release over Porco.

He continued to milk you out, eventually finishing not too long after. He lets you fall on top of his frame, palms rubbing circles into your and easing you from your high.

“Good job, y/n.” You lift your head up to look at Porco’s face. He smiles back at you tenderly. “Alright let’s clean you up.” 

He settles you on the bed next to his side and slides off the bed to grab a clean towel from the linen closet and discard the condom in the trash. You watch his muscle-y body move across the apartment floors, his clear focus on grabbing the right things for you. 

He comes back with an iced water and starts cleaning up your thighs. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you smile, “I can do it myself.”

He looks up at you, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, “What? No, I’m doing it.” He continues his work at cleaning you off. 

“..oh, ok.” You say shyly, butterflies in your stomach from his actions. 

“Does he not do this for you?” Porco asks, not looking up from fixing up the sheets below you.

You replied slowly, “No, not really.”

Porco sighed, “He’s such a selfish dick.”

You laugh at Porco’s attitude. But now that you think about it, Zeke was always thinking about himself. The thought passed as soon as it came, and you did consider the fact that he was paying you.

Porco nestled himself on the side of you after he was done, grunting a little from his tired state. His big arms hugged around your smaller body as he pulled you in close.

“Porco?” You called.

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” you muffled into his chest.

Porco blushed at your comment, but simply toughed it over and patted your ruffled hair, “Mhm”.

A few pings were heard from your cell phone as you drifted into sleep, no doubt from Zeke, and each time Porco pulled you in tighter. A smile curled crept onto your lips, “It’s not like I’m gonna leave, Pokko,” you giggled.

“Good,” he said, “I wasn’t planning on letting you anyways.”

[themadchemist]

Last night I had the best dream in a long time (which gave me ideas for my WoL's story but since I'm an absolute disappointment when it comes to actually writing, I'll just type it here and either hope that I get some inspiration or just throw it here because I really like the idea and I want to share it even if I don't touch it again afterwards haha)

Anyway...

It's probably because I've been into a big ffxiv mood lately thanks to the new raid patch but I saw my WoL, Aurora (previously Arciela but I'm in the process of reworking her, her appearance and parts of her story), going on a "date" with Thancred, the date being fighting the twelve because they were supposed to be going on a normal date later that day, but due to the urgency of the situation they couldn't, so Krile and G'raha called Thancred for help to make up for it... When they said to get more people to fight with you and all. (maybe if I ever write it I'll make it so that my friends' WoLs and their partners joined too...).

Fast forward to them just strolling around Aglaia, discussing the situation, their surroundings and Aurora and the guy who was supposed to be Deryk? sharing what they know about the twelve and myths and stuff, fighting whatever and whoever pops up in the process (Thancred being her "knight" protecting her while she blasts their foes away). Now that I think about it, I feel bad about Deryk having to witness that shit because they're fighting GODS! and they definitely don't seem to be taking things seriously enough (they are don't worry). Like, OH NO SHE'S GOING TO GET HIT! Oh thank goodness that guy tanked it... OH GOD CAN HE FIGHT IN THAT CONDITION??!! Oh she healed him... So it would be really bad for his nerves, especially since he also had to listen to their banter which was mostly sarcasm and flirting XD

Now, if I'm going to add anything to that part, it would be Aurora wanting to ask Azeyma if she had a connection to Azem and Nald'thal about certain dead people but not getting answers because of the whole "we can't tell you, you'll have to find out yourself" thing or maybe not getting the chance to ask at all...

And in that last scene in the Seventh Heaven, Thancred would be there as well and he's pouting and sulking and Aurora catches him glaring at Deryk.

Thancred, is something the matter?

No, I'm fine.

Really? You don't look fine to me and you drank a little too much tonight.

I'm fine, just a little tired from today.

I see 😏

Cue Thancred getting a little massage

Thancred, are you... Jealous? 👀

Of-f course not. Who would I even be jealous of?

Deryk, the explorer.

O-oh, of course not! Why would I be jealous of him? It's for the job, I understand.

I caught you glaring at him.

... He... He didn't try anything funny while I was gone, right?

No, he didn't. 😇

Good. 😊

Then he would get peppered with little kisses all over his face.

Now, my silliness aside, I think Thancred would be a little jealous in such an event because I headcanon that he loved Aurora since Praetorium but between feeling that he wasn't good enough, that he needed to be better and stronger and everything that happened from ARR to ShB, he didn't have the courage to confess until post 5.0. So even though they've been together for a while, I think these insecurities would resurface in such situations sometimes.

And that's it, my sleepy brain's attempt to fill the void of barely seeing my lovely "grizzled old bard" this patch lol

[ve1vetyoongi]

better with you | ksj - 01

Chapters: index

Pairing: Seokjin x female reader

Genre: fake dating/arranged marriage!au, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 19k

Summary: A part time job as a chef at Paradise Resort seems like the perfect way to spend your summer and save up some spare cash to open your own restaurant back home. That is until you cross paths with the CEO’s son who threatens to fire you if you don’t help him inherit his trust-fund-baby-fortune. How? By making you his fiancé. Well, his pretend fiancé at least.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, spanking, semi-public sex.

A/N: uwu hello and welcome to the first chapter of better with you, part of the paradise series! i hope you enjoy reading these characters as much as i enjoyed writing them because they’re some of my favourites 🥺💘 p.s. im honestly not happy with the pacing of this chapter, but i really wanted to share, so bare with me if it sucks!

Paradise Resort and the people in it are nothing like how you imagined them to be.

Sure, Paradise is a picturesque gated community with sparkling lake views surrounded by pear trees and sprawling green lawns and white stone fountains like the website described. And sure, everyone here drives foreign cars and loiters by the pool on weekdays and drinks bubbly for breakfast from fine China beneath chandeliers which glisten in the morning sun.

But you quickly realise there is something off; something that doesn't quite fit the expectations you had when you arrived here at the start of the summer, wide eyed and excited.

And that something is you.

You aren't one of the balding golfers leisurely steering carts across the perfectly pruned Paradise grass, flirting unashamedly with pretty young women in tennis skirts as they pass. And you aren't one of their wives, leaving lipstick stains on crystal wine glasses in wicker chairs on balconies as they giggle over finger food and afternoon tea and ignorance of their husband's infidelities.

And you certainly aren't the type of girl to spend her summer's horseback riding or wielding badminton bats or sipping copious amounts of white wine, paid for a la daddy's credit card.

No, because you are a culinary major. Nothing more nothing less. And lucky for you, Paradise was hiring - at least for the summer, anyway, and who better to work overtime in the kitchens at the expense of rich dudes other than broke students, right?

While most people came to Paradise to unwind and celebrate another year of prosperity, it was simply your job to watch from the kitchen window, grit your teeth and save enough cash to put towards opening your own restaurant back home.

Which is exactly how you find yourself slaving away over a plate of scallop sashimi on the stickiest day of August as the kitchen gets ready for the biggest event in Resort history — at least according to your fellow summer employee and designated dish washer duty-man Park Jimin, who seemed to be a constant fountain of gossip -- a trait which you secretly liked him for, despite feigning disinterest in his tittle-tattle.

"Do these people even know what good food is?" You frown at an underwhelmingly small plate of goat cheese salad as you wipe the edge of the plate with a cloth. "They can't seriously want to eat this. Don't they ever just, like, want a burger or something?"

"You're just noticing this place is bonkers?" Jimin snickers behind you, hoisting his weight onto the counter and pulling a grimace of his own when he lay eyes on the limp pile of lettuce leaves they dare to refer to as a meal here. "I saw someone order dessert for breakfast yesterday. Rich people have no rules, Y/N. Besides, it's not like we can serve burgers once Mr Kim arrives."

"Mr Kim?" You ask curiously. "Who's that?"

Jimin's eyebrows furrow, like he can't actually believe you're asking him such a question. Ever since you got here at the beginning of the summer he's been diligently keeping you up to date with the latest Paradise gossip, so you aren't sure why he's surprised you're as out of the loop as ever.

"Mr Kim. The founder of Paradise’s son?" You shrug, blinking at him cluelessly and Jimin shakes his head with a pained expression, lowering his voice like he's utterly appalled at your ignorance. "You haven't heard anything about the guy who is gonna take over this place once his father retires? Kim Seokjin?"

Ah, so that's who the infamous Seokjin is. His name has been buzzing through the kitchen for the last week, much to your confusion, and apparently he would be dining in the restaurant tonight.

You heard the senior chef's were working over time to perfect the cherry clafoutis he personally requested (despite not being an on-the-menu dish) and his impending inheritance of his father's dynasty seemed a topic of hot gossip, spreading in hushed whispers from the bar girls out front to the janitor, everyone seemingly desperate to get a glimpse at the Kim Seokjin. Meaning there are only two possible reasons as to why: he is rich or he is filthy rich.

"So what's the big deal with this guy. Is he some sort of celebrity or something?" You nudge Jimin in the ribs as you return to your station and start to sauté a fresh batch of onions. 

"Nah, just filthy rich." Jimin indulges and you nod. Just as I thought. "And goddamn hot if I should say so myself." He adds, returning to his dish washing station with a sigh, wrinkling his nose when his hands plunge into the soapy suds.

"Still, I don't see why I need to work over time for him." You grumble. The clock had chimed five o clock ten minutes ago and usually you'd be on your way to have a shower and shampoo the smell of grease and garlic out of your hair but instead you were still on the clock, orders lining up for you to prepare and stat. "What’s so special about him dropping by for dinner. Everyone here is rich."

"Well I was talking to one of the big guys," Jimin nods towards the senior chefs. "And apparently his parents have been trying to get him to marry his girlfriend for, like, ever." Jimin's voice dips to a whisper. "But get this. He broke up with his girlfriend last week when his parents suggested they get married!"

You narrow your eyes. "Right. So I'm working over time because some rich dude decided to throw his toys out of the stroller?"

Jimin rips off his pink rubber gloves and shakes you by the shoulders, like he’s trying to knock some sense into you. "Just shut up for a second would you? We're working overtime because his parent's have set him up on a date!"

You slap a hand over mouth, letting out an exaggerated gasp. "Not a date!"

"I know right!" Jimin shakes his head as if this is the scandal of the century, not quite sharing your sarcasm. "Can you believe it?"

"Is he talking about Kim Seokjin, again?" Jungkook, one of the summer buss boys, emerges from the restaurant through the double doors in his familiar black uniform. Jimin quickly smoothes down his hair, mentally chastising himself when soap suds coat his blonde locks, face burning as red as the tomatoes you chop beside him. It's common knowledge that Jimin has the biggest, all consuming crush on the oblivious chestnut haired waiter who flashes you an ever cheeky bunny smile now as he scoops up the dish you prepared onto the tray balanced on his forearm. 

He shoots Jimin an eye roll. "All he talks about is Kim Seokjin this, Kim Seokjin that." Jungkook shrugs. "I really don't see what the big deal is about this guy."

Jimin crosses his arms sulkily and you have to stifle a laugh at the pair. "The big deal is that this date has to go well - no, perfect - because Seokjin needs to marry someone "parent approved" or else his father will reject him as the heir of his dynasty."

You want to ask him about his impressive eavesdropping abilities but you have to admit, this is pretty big news - especially around here where the latest hot gossip was Han Seojin's husband's gambling problem when he hit up the casino after a few too many brandy's.

"So basically, the fate of the resort lies in his hands tonight." Jimin adds excitedly as he slams the dishwasher closed with a triumphant grin.

You roll your eyes. That is surely a bit dramatic. The guy was probably too blinded by the riches he would be inheriting to care about the poor girl he was getting hitched too. "You're invested in this, huh?"

Jimin nods eagerly. "Like I said. He's hot. Like sex on legs hot."

If you weren't watching carefully you may have missed Jungkook's eyes narrowing slightly or the way he tenses and puffs out his chest. "Pfft. He is not."

"So is!" Jimin pouts. "You're just jealous you're not as inhumanely gorgeous as he is." Jungkook raises a brow and Jimin rushes to smooth over his words. "Not that you're not gorgeous! No, that's not what I mean—"

The awkward moment is interrupted by the sound of a ladle banging against a frying pan, and you let out a groan when you hear the unmistakable yell of the head chef. "Attention everyone!"

"Speaking of crazy people." Jimin mutters with a roll of his eyes, rolling up his uniform sleeves and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as all the employees gather in the centre of the kitchen. "Looks like Hoseok got out of the wrong side of bed again."

You stifle a giggle when you find that Jimin is in fact correct, head chef Hoseok rounding the corner with an ever serious expression on his face. He has always been the stern type, mouth constantly fixed in a permanent frown as he criticises your dicing skills or catches you burning another steak, but you can see by the bluish bags under his eyes and the furrowed lines etched into his forehead that he means business today and a hush quickly falls over the kitchen apart from the gentle hiss of frying onions.

"As you all know, today is a big day for Paradise." He begins. "Each and every one of our future's here as employees depends on it. Mr. Kim has chosen us to cater for his dinner date and I need each and every one of you to do everything you can to make sure it goes smoothly. Capeesh?"

Dang. Is head chef Hoseok himself nervous? He's usually irritatingly confident in his cooking abilities. Maybe this was more serious than you thought...

"I'm counting on you guys to prove our worth, you hear me? It's already an honour that he picked us to host such an important event, and if we fumble who d'ya think he's gonna fire first once he takes over as CEO?" Hoseok interrupts your train of thought, waving a wooden spoon now like he's conducting an orchestra. "Which is why I expect zero funny business. I'm looking at you Jeon Jungkook! Now scram, we have customers to feed."

A unanimous groan fills the room as everyone gets back to work, and the kitchen falls into a state of turmoil as the clock ticks away, Seokjin due to arrive in a few hours and you haven’t even started on his appetizer yet.

"This better be worth it." You grumble to yourself, suppressing a smile when Jungkook bounds like a Labrador puppy into the restaurant fit  with an armful of salads yelling "Rabbit food coming up, y'all!", despite the stern look Hoseok sends his way.

You turn to Jimin, rolling your eyes at the hearts in his eyes for Jungkook as he strains his neck to get a glimpse of the chestnut haired boy's ass through the kitchen's window. He blushes when he notices you looking, but not before he’s flashing you a grin.

"Just wait until you see him," Jimin calls cheekily as you rush to the stove you had abandoned earlier. "Then you'll be glad you worked over time."

As it turns out, you are not glad you worked overtime. Kim Seokjin is late. Unfashionably late. So late that you are considering eating the dish you slaved over for nearly an hour to perfect to his preferences only for him to let it go limp and cold.

At least you could add another trait to the list of what you now know about Kim Seokjin: filthy rich, (allegedy) goddamn hot, heir to the resort and most importantly douche bag who can't make it on time to the first date with his future wife.

To make matters worse, the level of unrest in the kitchens is unlike anything you have ever seen before as everyone nervously awaits his arrival. Jungkook has been out front to polish the wine glasses at the private table he set up and lovingly adorned with candles and a bottle of iced champagne of the expensive kind because it would "create sexy vibes" more times than you can count. Hoseok took extra care with the placement of the parsley on top of the steaks he grilled and you even saw Jimin fixing his hair in the reflection of a shiny pan.

When the clock ticked over to eight, everyone had gathered around the small kitchen window, eyes beadily trained to the door. 

"He'll be here any minute now, I can feel it." Jimin whispers as he sidles up beside you, practically vibrating. His excitement for the date has started to rub off on you, a funny fuzzy feeling settling in your chest — all this Kim Seokjin talk has you itching to see the guy in the flesh, even if it is just from behind the kitchen window.

Sure enough, Jimin's Kim Seokjin senses must be somewhat accurate because a hurried hush falls across the kitchen as a black car pulls up outside, a unanimous gasp filling the room as you watch him emerge from behind the tinted glass windows in awe.

You were waiting for a tight lipped guy in a suit and tie to step inside; a younger clone of all the middle aged men who frequented the resort when their "model" children got busted bunking off from golf games or whatever rich kids did to rebel. Except the guy that strolls through the sliding doors like he has time to waste is so far from the average Paradise resident that you are almost sure you're hallucinating. Or have onion in your eyes. Surely you aren't seeing this clearly?

The guy who crosses the threshold and takes a seat at the table Jungkook graciously guides him to is clad in a vibrant Hawaiian shirt, the floral a stark contrast to the luxe interior of the resort. The garment is unbuttoned lazily and draped across his broad shoulders, a pair of round,humorously large sunglasses perched on the end of his nose, and if you weren't so shocked by his...impressionable entrance you might find the whole situation comical.

"This is Kim Seokjin?" You splutter, unable to stop the giggles that leave your lips at the sight of him bobbing his head unnecessarily hard to the monotonous classical tune that carries through the restaurant, blatantly ignoring whatever words Jungkook (who looked completely starstruck) was stuttering.

The situation becomes even more ridiculous when you see the disgruntled look on the pretty girl who traipses behind him awkwardly, dressed in a floor length gown and pearls, face turning sour when Seokjin neglects his manners and forces her to pull her own chair out to sit while he zones in on the bottle of alcohol in the centre of the table.

They look like characters out of two separate worlds. Jewels glitter on her fingers as she taps them agitatedly against the table, clearly as dumbfounded by the situation as you are, especially when she offers her glass to Seokjin to pour her a drink, only for him to thrust the entire bottle of wine in her face.

Your attention is drawn away from the unfolding scene momentarily when Jungkook flies back into the kitchen in typical Jungkook fashion, except this time with an extra bout of zealousness if the stars in his eyes weren't already obvious.

"I take it back!" He puffs, slipping his empty tray beneath his elbow, hands now free to swing Jimin around in circles. "He's the most beautiful human I've ever seen!"

You cross your arms with a sneer. "Looks like a goof to me. That shirt? Not a good look on anyone."

"But his face!"

"Yeah, his face, covered by those obnoxious glasses."

"You didn't see it." Jungkook whispers, pulling your hands into his own. "He could end mankind with that kind of face! And I bet he has a monster dong too-"

"Okay, jeez." You push him away, scrunching your nose in disgust. "No discussing customer's monster dongs in the kitchen."

"So you admit he probably has one?"

"Shush!" You hiss. The kitchen huddle lets out a synchronised gasp and you elbow your way back to the window, peering past a tall chef's hat to fix your attention on the scene which had somehow escalated ten fold since you'd left it.

Seokjin's body is wracked with laughter, hand slamming down ferociously against the table, making his date wince every time the fine china jumps on the table cloth. Her hands are placed carefully atop the napkin in her lap, food untouched as Seokjin takes the liberty to pour himself another glass of wine. He looks utterly uninterested in anything she has to say, and she seems embarrassed by his mannerless behaviour, glancing around anxiously. The tension between them is suffocating, even from your safe distance, and you swear you could cut it with one of the knives hanging from the utensil rack.

Then, Seokjin leans in towards her. He removes his glasses, carefully tucking them neatly into his shirt pocket before resting his chin in his palm to stare at her intently.

Maybe he was finally taking an interest in her? She seems to think the same thing, a small smile creeping onto her face despite her awkward demeanour.

Until it slips from her face nearly as fast as it appeared, replaced by an expression of pure appalled horror when Seokjin whispers something into her ear. You can only see the back of his head so lip reading is out of the question; but if the way her chin drops into her lap was anything to go by, you have a feeling whatever he said was not something you wanted to hear on a first date and probably not from your future husband, either.

Without further ado, the girl throws her cutlery down with a clash, gathering the fabric of her dress and storming out of the restaurant in a manner that suggests the date went badly to say the least.

A ruckus has broken out in the kitchen by this point; Jimin and Jungkook stopping mid monster dong debate to gawk, a rumble of chatter erupting as everyone processes the events you had just witnessed.

What did he say? Do you think it was the steak? What does this mean for Paradise? Is he still gonna marry her?

The last one came from Jungkook and you couldn't help but bite your lip in an attempt to smother the laughter that threatened to spill at his question. "Somehow I don't think he proposed to her just then, Kook."

Your eyes zone in on Seokjin again. He is slumped back in his seat now, knuckles pressed to his eyes. He looks exhausted, a sudden change in demeanour considering this is the same guy who was shooting finger guns at his date a few moments ago. Now he just seems defeated

For a moment you think he is going to get up and leave. That is until he twists in his seat, motioning towards the kitchen window with a crook of the finger. Dessert? He mouths.

The kitchen staff disperse hurriedly, a tinge of red creeping up Hoseok's neck at being caught spying, although it is clear by the smirk on Seokjin's face that he knew you were watching him all along. There is something in his eyes that even has you wiping the amused expression of your face, though. An authority.

"Could this night have gone any worse?" You ask Jimin, referring to Seokjin's debacle. Except Jungkook is quick to interject, thrusting two black bags in your face with a grin.

"For you, yes. Your turn to take out the trash."

You blink at him a few times before reluctantly taking the bags from his grip. They were heavy, nearly making you stumble. How had Jungkook held them so easily?

"Fine." You manage to get out between gritted teeth, struggling to balance with the extra weight in your arms. "But you owe me."

"Oh believe me," There is a glint in Jungkook's eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. What was he up to? "I'll make it up to you sooner than you think."

It's dimly lit when you stumble out back armed with a pile of trash bags, the only light source some fairy lights strung around the palm trees lining the restaurant. It takes all your strength and three tries to haul the heavy trash bags into the dark mouth of the dumpster and you're out of breath by the time you're finished.

Finally satisfied with your work, you wipe your hands on your apron and turn to stalk back inside and flick Jungkook's forehead - except a loud ringing from somewhere in the shadows stops you dead in your tracks.

You stiffen, hand reaching for the door handle as a precaution, head snapping towards the direction of the sound. You can't help the small gasp that leaves your lips when you take in the figure of a tall man leaning against the kitchen wall just a few meters away, the ringing ceasing when he lifts a phone to his ear with a frustrated groan.

Shit! As soon as you realise you're not alone and before you can think better of it you're scrambling behind the dumpster, crouching so that you're just out of view but still in earshot as the figure starts to murmur into the microphone.

"Yeah, dad, I know she flew all the way from Morocco to be here tonight. It's not my fault we weren't compatible!"

Huh? A voice squeaks on the other end of the line, and though you can't work out what they say exactly the frustrated sigh that leaves the man a few meters away tells you it wasn't exactly friendly.

"What makes you think you know what's best for me? I never wanted this stupid engagement in the first place!"

Intrigued and against your better judgement, you brace your hands on the edge of the dumpster and pull yourself on top of a cardboard box discarded beside it to get a better view of the scene. If you strain your neck you can just about see the shadow of a tall figure pacing back and forth just around the corner and you can't help but lean in a little closer to hear his harsh words more clearly, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Because it's my life! I'm sick of you and mom always telling me what to do with it." You raise an eyebrow, ever intrigued when the voice lifts from a hush to a yell. "Fine! I'll go on another date, but you'll see. I won't end up like you. You owe me big time for this, dad."

With that the phone call is cut off with a monotone beep and you see the shadow of the man pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing sharply, before the soles of his polished loafers crunch against the gravel in the direction of where you crouch, eavesdropping. You had enough experience with the residents here to know they wouldn't take this lightly — you had to sign a handful of NDA's before you even got the job, so naturally your eyes widen with panic when you realise you're about to get busted listening in on a confidential call. But before you can dive behind a trash bag and take cover, you lose your footing and find yourself hurtling head first into the dumpster, landing with a crash.

A few seconds pass, the footsteps ceasing as you squeeze your eyes shut and pray your beating heart doesn't give you away, before a voice calls out.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"No!" You squeak hurriedly, slapping a hand over your mouth when it's already too late and flushing a deep shade of red when you hear a sharp intake of breath and you realise you've blown your own cover

You silently hope the guy will give up and leave, but then you hear someone climbing the outside of the dumpster and you open your eyes to see a puzzled pair of eyes peering down at you from beneath a cocked eyebrow, followed my a loud snort. "You need some help down there, sweetheart?"

This guy might be a total stranger, but any questioning words die on your tongue when you look around and remember you're literally trapped inside a dumpster and your upper arm strength is definitely not enough to get you out of this thing alone and — hold up, there's probably rats in here, right?

You scramble to your feet, brushing your messy hair from your eyes with a nervous laugh. "Uh...yeah. I guess I do."

A steady hand emerges over the edge of the dumpster and with a weak and embarrassed smile you grasp it, suppressing a squeak when the guy unexpectedly launches you over his shoulder so that he can pull you out in one fell swoop and set you safely on the ground.

"Uh, thanks." You manage to get out when you find your balance, awkwardly brushing some dirt from your apron. "Good thing you walked by when you did..."

"Yeah, guess you could call me your knight in shining armor, huh?" The guy chuckles, long and smooth like velvet. A laugh you've heard before, just moments ago in fact. That's when you battle through your embarrassment to look up and face him for the first time, flushing at the involuntary gasp that passes your lips.

The man before you has the deepest eyes you've ever seen, sharp yet soft around the edges beneath the sparkle of the low light and you shiver when they finish looking you up and down to stare into yours directly. Your eyes slip down to the familiar Hawaiian shirt draped over his broad shoulders, eyes widening when you look between your bodies to find his fingers still clasping your own as he eyes you with a curious interest.

"S-Seokjin?" You splutter. He nods, letting out a deeper chuckle this time as though he could hold it back no longer. "What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same question," He counters, letting you go so he can reach into his pocket to retrieve a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter, ironically just beneath the unmissable NO SMOKING sign. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out here hauling trash at this hour?"

"I...work here."

He nods and you just stare at him like an open mouthed idiot. He must think it's because of the way he fiddles to spark a light at the end of his cigarette, drawing his eyes from the stick back to your surprised expression. "What? Oh these? I don't smoke. Stole these from my father's coat pocket." He shakes the box back and forth with a smug grin. "Nothing pisses him off more than loosing his Lucky Strikes. Besides, I own this place, I can do what I like."

You shrug. "Well, your father does." You are speaking too quickly, mentally pinching yourself for not being able to bite your own tongue. "He owns this place I mean. Right?"

A blush creeps up your neck under his gaze which narrows as he draws closer to you. His eyes are a deeper brown up close, like a pot of warm hot chocolate - soft at the edges where they crinkle into a smile at your rushed words. Nothing like the steely glares you usually got from residents here.

"Correct," The toe of his shoe kicks at the gravel beneath your soles while he strings together his next words carefully. "For now. I'll be proud owner of Paradise before the year is out, though."

"Ha." You can't help but snort under your breath, Seokjin's head simply tilting in response with an almost amused curiosity. "I don’t know about that. Didn't look like your fiance wanted to marry you very much."

"Word spreads quick around here, huh?" He lets out a dark laugh, grimacing at the cloud of nicotine that floats away into the nigh from the cigarette between his fingers that flutters to the gravel before it’s even reached his lips. You wince when he uses the toe of his Balenciaga’s to stub it out into a pile of smoldering ash before reaching for another one that he lights in the same way as before. "She wasn't my fiance, actually.To be honest, I hadn't even met her before tonight."

You let out an awkward laugh. "I take it the wedding's off then?"

"Ha ha," You practically hear the roll of his eyes. "At least one of us finds this funny, because my father sure as shit won't." His tone is suddenly chilly and for a moment you think you offended him, though a quick scan of his face reveals a turn up of the mouth that says otherwise. He kicks off from the wall, slinging his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and you swallow thickly as the safe distance between you grows ever smaller, so close you can smell his woody cologne. "It was never on, per se. And it never will be if I have anything to do with it."

You can't help but scoff at the way he tightens his jaw and throws his arms across his chest like a toddler in time out. Sure, you hardly knew the guy but something about his attitude rubs you the wrong way. This is the guy who has everything, yet he's trash talking his lavish lifestyle to a summer employee? 

"You're kind of an asshole, huh?"

"Can't say I haven't heard that one before." Seokjin agrees with a smirk. "But you don't seem like much of an angel yourself. First I find you eavesdropping on me, save your ass from a dumpster and then you choose to insult me?"

You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, worried you might have overstepped, mouth dry as you spit out a response. "I...I didn't mean it like that—"

"God, chill out would you? I’m kidding. You're so stiff it's stressing me out." His tongue snakes out to lick his lips thoughtfully. "You're different, y'know."

"Huh?"

"I can tell you're not like everyone else around here. You're honest." Seokjin explains, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt to allow him some more breathing room as he continues. "Everyone around here is either a liar or a cheat. Or both."

"You don't even know me." You huff.

"You don’t know me either, princess.” Seokjin smirks. “So what makes you so sure I'm an asshole?."

He blinks at you eagerly, and you realise he's serious when he arrogantly waves his hand for you to go ahead and indulge him, like he's somewhat amused.

Well damn. If this guy wanted honesty you'd sure as shit give it to him

"You want the truth?" You suck in a deep breath. "I don't know what I expected when I heard the buzz about you but it certainly wasn't a rich guy who wears hawaiian shirts and makes girls cry on first dates. I don’t need to know a single thing about you to know that you’re an ungrateful asshole, just like everyone else at this resort."

A few seconds pass, Seokjin's eyes widening in momentary surprise like he wasn't used to people telling him the truth, before his face breaks out into a beaming grin. "I have a feeling we're going to be good friends." He glances at your name tag. "Y/N, is it?"

You half nod before you register his words. "Friends, what do you mean—?"

Just then the phone in his grip starts to vibrate violently, and he holds it up so you can see the bold DAD that lights up the screen.

"Sorry to cut this short pretty, but I need to take this. Better get back to work before I cut your pay check, sweetheart." You must look visibly nervous because he bursts into laughter. "What? I'm kidding, remember?"

You roll your eyes, hiding the way your face heats up by spinning on your heels and storming back towards the kitchen, pausing briefly before you can turn the handle when you hear Seokjin call your name.

"Hey. Wait up! One piece of advice. Don't let this place, get to you, okay?" Seokjin calls with a smile. "I like your honesty, it's...refreshing."

And with that he lifts the phone to his ear, disappearing around the shadowy corner with an irritating smile and a finger salute.

For some funny reason, Seokjin's words ring out in your head for the rest of the night. I have a feeling we're going to be good friends. Something tells you that isn't the last time you're going to see Kim Seokjin, and you can't tell if the way your heart skips a beat is a good thing or not.

Much to your surprise, that isn't the last time you see Kim Seokjin.

The next night he returned equally as late and equally as eccentrically dressed and left his date, blonde this time, (though equally as pretty as the last one) flustered and red in the face as she stormed out of the restaurant with glassy eyes and crushed dreams

The night after that you spot him arguing a little too loudly with a feisty lady outside the restaurant, the way he doesn't even stay long enough to finish his champagne a clear indication that the date went less than perfect.

Night after night, the same scenario played out with different unimpressed women, until finally, they just stopped coming. No more girls. No more dates. No more of Seokjin's signature laughter permeating the entire restaurant. Sure, the guy was a complete asshole, that much was clear; but you his absence left the restaurant feeling even more lifeless than before.

Obviously Seokjin's fucked up dating life wasn’t anything to laugh about. But you had to admit his antics put a smile on your face, something which had been few and far between as of late. Even when Hoseok was working you overtime, you found yourself biting your lip to suppress a grin every time Seokjin waltzed through the door. And now he was gone, and with it your small escape from reality.

"Do you think his parents finally gave up?" Jimin sighs one late evening, shaking his wet hands in the face of Jungkook who bats him away playfully.

"Nah, he probably just found a girl he likes." Jungkook reasons. "Made his parents see things from his point of view."

You snort. "They don't sound like the type of parents who would give up that easy." After more dates than you could count on one hand with various suitors deemed good enough for their son, it was clear they were prepared for him to rebel. You doubted they would give in without a fight.

"You might be right..." Jungkook trails off, rushing to smush his face against the window. "Unless...wait! I think he's back!"

"He's back?" You breathe, elbowing Jungkook out of the way and ignoring his ow! of protest, your own breath fogging up the glass now as your eyes dart from table to table in search of a familiar face.

You let out a breathy laugh. Sure enough, there he is. Hair gelled back tonight you noted, bouncing his skinny jean clad knee beneath the table with an impatience you can't quite put your finger on.

Wait...

"Ha!" You almost do a double take. Seokjin is sat alone tonight. No nearly-crying-twenty-something across from him. Just Seokjin with a single flute of champagne in his hand opposite an utterly empty chair.

Well. This is new.

"I think he's been stood up!" You lower your voice to a whisper when your burst of laughter gains a few strange looks. "There's no girl with him this time."

"What?" Jimin splutters, standing on his tip toes in an attempt to see over your shoulder. "No girl?! Let me see!"

You budge over and Jimin lets out a gasp of surprise when he takes in the scene for himself. "The Kim Seokjin got stood up. I can't believe it!"

"Maybe he's getting a taste of his own medicine." You muse.

A mischievous look crosses Jungkook's features and then he is pulling on his black apron and scurrying towards the door. "Let's find out!"

"What? — Jungkook!"

You watch open mouthed as Jungkook approaches the lonely table, fingers quivering around the order notebook he clutches like a safety blanket, with nerves or excitement you can't quite tell; before he exchanges a few words with Seokjin who barely even glances up, lazily folding a napkin in his lap. Jungkook nods vigorously before he speed walks back to the kitchen like his life depends on it, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he thrusts the order slip towards you.

"Two orders of sirloin steak, medium! Pronto!"

"Two?" You and Jimin splutter in unison.

Jungkook looks amused. Too amused for your liking.

"Yup! And guess what?" Jimin is hanging off his every word, desperate pleas of what? making Jungkook chuckle harder. "He wants the chef to serve it."

You narrow your eyes. "Hoseok? Why?"

Jungkook scoffs as if you're being clueless on purpose. "Not Hoseok, idiot!"

"Then who?"

"You." Jungkook points a finger right at you.

"Me? Wait! Jeon Jungkook, you get back here!" Before you can ask questions he is already bounding into the restaurant like a labrador on crack.

"Have fun!" He yells over his shoulder with a wink. "You'll thank me later, Y/N."

Half an hour later and you're stood with two steaming plates balanced on your arm. Why are you so nervous? All you have to do is go out there and serve the food. It's not like he was asking you to kill someone.

But every time you muster up the courage to go out there you remember your encounter with Seokjin outside the kitchens, and you instantly feel weak at the knees.

You smooth down your apron one last time, filling your lungs with the stuffy kitchen air before Jimin's hands clamp onto your shoulders and steer you towards the door.

"What are you—?" One forceful push later and you're stumbling out into the restaurant. "Jimin!"

"You can do this!" You hear Jimin call, the exasperated look you send over your shoulder in response prompting a not so reassuring thumbs up. The way your eyes downturn into a dark glare makes him collapse into a fit of gasps and giggles as he nods for you to keep going.

I'm going to get him back for this...

The table Seokjin liked to frequent is closest to the window, view casting out over the lake which the resort surrounds like a half moon, terribly modern in all it's white pillared glory in contrast to the natural beauty of the clear blue water. The lake is darkened now with the reflection of the midnight blue sky, the soft glow of lanterns lighting up the path around it and illuminating the picture of weeping willows which ripples across the water's surface, disturbed only by canoeists tying up their boats for the evening.

Seokjin doesn't seem interested in the quiet goings on of the resort. He has probably seen them a hundred times before. His back is facing you but you can see how his eyes are transfixed on the sliding entrance doors in the windows reflection. It was late evening and most people would be returning to their suites for the night by now, but Seokjin's steely gaze remains unwavering, like he's expecting it to zip open any minute. Is he waiting for someone?

Some part of you feels sympathetic. It doesn't look like anyone is coming to join him any time soon. Poor guy is about to get a taste of his own medicine and look like a fool sat opposite an empty chair harbouring a plate of uneaten food.

Ha. It's exactly what he deserves, you think. Karma.

Every step towards him feels heavier than the last until eventually you find yourself stood with knees knocking right behind him, food probably going cold with every second you spend coaxing yourself to man up and face him. You silently pray he won't hear the pound of your heart over the low hum of chatter and scrapes of cutlery against china plates that seem to fall away to silence in this corner of the restaurant where it's just Seokjin and you.

You're debating spinning on your heels and making Jungkook do it instead when Seokjin's unrelenting stare at the door snaps up to meet yours in the window's reflection, the authority in his eyes enough to have you hiding behind your hair in shame at being caught dwindling like an idiot.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually come." His voice is a deep hum that makes you jolt and nearly drop the plates. A heat burns your cheeks when Seokjin swirls the champagne in his glass amusedly, facing you with his forearm on the back of his seat and beckoning for you to set the plates down with a nod of his head. An order.

You narrow your eyes, unable to curb the irritation that laces your sigh as you obey him. You set down the dishes, one in front of him and the other in front of the seat still empty of whomever he is expecting. "I wasn't exactly expecting to be serving you tonight either. I usually just prepare the food."

Seokjin doesn't miss the roll of your eyes, snorting at the shake of your hand that gives away the anxiety beneath your front when crystal beads of champagne splash onto the immaculate table cloth as you try to top up his glass.

"Yeah and here's a reason for that. You're a shit waitress."

The way you slam the bottle down onto the table top is a little too aggressive, the legs shaking violently and drawing the eyes of a few of the surrounding diners who wipe their mouths with a delicate astonishment and flash you dark looks at the disturbance.

"Are we done? If I'm so bad then why did you call me out here?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you." His fingers fold the napkin in his lap carefully. He settles back into his chair with a grin laced with mischief while you practically hop from foot to foot with nerves. "Would you sit for a second?"

"I'm an employee." You raise a brow. "I don't think that's appropriate..."

"Please?" He rests his chin in his palms.

You hug your torso and self consciously glance side to side. With a roll of your eyes you sink down into the chair, if a little reluctantly, when you're sure the couple at the table directly opposite are too deep in conversation about the crème brûlée to notice the strange encounter happening beside them.

"Fine! But make it quick or Hoseok might actually shave my head."

Seokjin gets straight to the point. "I need you to do something for me."

There is a glint in his eye as he snatches up the glass intended for the rightful occupant of the leather cushion you perch on, pouring a small amount of champagne into the flute and pushing it towards you with an encouraging nod. You observe the fizzing liquid with caution, turning your nose up at the floral aroma. Was he trying to poison you with Veuve Clicquot?

"Okay, elaborate?"

"I'm going to need you to pretend to be my date." You wait for him to laugh but his lips are pressed together in a line that tell you he is being serious. "You up for it?"

"Excuse me?" An astonished laugh punctuates your widened eyes, voice raising incredulously at his request. "Your what?"

"Hear me out!" Seokjin hisses, holding a finger to his lip to quiet you down when you splutter on the air that feels like it's thickening in your throat. "I just need to get my father off my back. It'll be five minutes tops!"

By this point you are rendered speechless, pinching the inside of your thigh to check if you are trapped in some weirdly vivid nightmare.

You? His date? Oh god...why aren't you waking up?

Your lips curl around a single breathless word. "Why?"

"Hello, I'm Kim Seokjin? Dad owns the resort? Need to get married to inherit it? I thought we went over this the other day—"

Throwing your arms over your chest impatiently, you click your tongue. "I remember idiot! I mean why me?"

"For fucks sake — you want the truth?" He chuckles but it's devoid of any humour. "You're new around here so my father is less likely to recognise you, okay?" He downs the rest of his glass, picks up his fork and pokes the cold steak on his plate restlessly, hardly bothering to look you in the face even when you scoff in disbelief.

You bite your lip, voice quiet. "Is this some sort of game?"

You are no stranger to Seokjin's tricks — you watched them play out with your own eyes, more girls than you could count on one hand leaving the restaurant in tears or worse — and something feels funny in your stomach, an instinct that says he has an ulterior motive you just can't put your finger on.

From the corner of your eye you spot Hoseok poking his head into the dining area, eyes merciless as they scan the room in search of you, the tell tale tap of his foot against the ground a giveaway of his growing impatience which makes you duck out of view in fear.

"If this is just one of your sick jokes then congrats," You deadpan. "I could literally lose my job over this."

"What? No!" He seems genuinely surprised at your accusation, exasperated sigh sounding desperate while his eyes bore into yours with a look that says please. "I'll explain everything. Please?"

He winces when your chair scrapes loudly against the tile as you get to your feet with a disbelieving shake of your head. "Sorry but I have a job to do—"

Suddenly Seokjin lets out a gasp and you hear the automatic glass doors zip open. "Ah shit!"

Seokjin's eyes widen with panic but before you can twist to see who has arrived for yourself, you're being pulled back down into the seat opposite him roughly by the elbow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Seokjin isn't listening, shrugging his jacket down his arms and wrapping the fabric around your shoulders hastily. "Cover your uniform, okay?"

The smell of his expensive cologne fills your senses and a warm hand squeezes your shoulder pleadingly, the glint in his eye replaced with desperation.

For a moment you falter and his face brightens, believing you to be finally convinced. Until you come back to your senses and slap his hand away. "Get off me!"

"Too late." Seokjin murmurs, but before you can shoot him a questioning glance a pair of polished black shoes stop beside you. Your entire body stiffens, aware of a pair of eyes probing the back of your head.

Oh no.

"Seokjin."

An unfamiliar deep voice rumbles beside you and when you dare to look up you're met with the peering face of an older man who you recognise from the Paradise website. There are traces of Seokjin visible in the curve of his mouth and the sharp edge of his jaw and he was probably considered good looking in his youth.

Ah. So this is Mr Kim?

"You lasted longer than fifteen minutes. This must be a new record, son."

Despite their likeness it's hard to believe they are father and son -- the stern frown keeping a pair of thin framed glasses balancing on Seokjin’s father’s nose along with his crisp tailored suit a far cry from the boy sat cross legged opposite you, wine colored shirt unbuttoned too far to be a mistake.

Seokjin plasters a false grin to his mouth and raises his glass towards Mr Kim, as if to toast. "I told you I would try didn't I?"

Mr Kim says nothing, averting his intimidating gaze to you instead. Your mouth dries when he addresses you directly. "What was your name again?"

Shit! Alarm bells sound in your head, instantly regretting coming out here in the first place and getting mixed up in Seokjin's mess.

You swallow thickly, hardly daring to look him in the eye. "It's — uh," Seokjin is signalling at you with an alarmed look, face falling into his palms with a muffled groan when you fail to catch on.  "Y-Y/N. I'm Y/N."

"Is it now?" Mr Kim scratches his chin thoughtfully, humming to himself as he studies your face. Shit, does he recognise you from the kitchen? Are you about to get fired? Your pulse goes into overdrive when his eyes narrow. "I'm sure I remember it being something like—"

"Her middle name!" Seokjin quickly butts in, cutlery clattering onto his plate in his haste to gain his fathers attention. "She goes by her middle name. We were just talking about it actually. Right, Y/N?"

All eyes fall on you again, Seokjin sending you a pleading look, but you don't trust your voice not to waver so you just nod and hide your rosy cheeks by wrapping your lips around rim of the untouched champagne glass.

"Funny middle name." He shrugs, landing an audible slap to Seokjin's back who winces at the hard contact. Mr Kim's eyes seem kinder as they look between you. "I'm proud of you, son. I'm glad you could finally see things from our perspective."

"Sure, dad." Seokjin shrinks away from his fathers touch with a look of distaste. "Now would you do us a favor and leave us to discuss...marriage things?" You choke on your mouthful of bubbly, eyes watering as you try to hold back a spluttering cough.

Thankfully, Mr Kim is already losing interest, flashing Seokjin a thumbs up before striding over to one of the waiters holding a platter of coconut shrimp appetizers and taking a handful for himself.

Watching him gain a safe distance and disappear among a circle of business men at the bar, you finally feel safe to let out the shaky breath you were holding. Seokjin presses his knuckles to his eyes, the vein in his neck protruding with tension.

"What the fuck was that?" He seems to have forgotten your presence, lost in his own thoughts until you rip his jacket from where it sits around your shoulders and throw it into his lap with contempt. Your laugh of disbelief sounds foreign to your own ears, unable to comprehend what actually just happened.

"You're crazy!" You let out breathlessly. "I'm out of here."

Before you can storm off like you want to, Seokjin's hand closes around your wrist and pins you in place.

"Listen, I know you think this is ridiculous but I'm literally about to get on my knees and beg you here. Just do me one more favour." You shoot him a glare and for a second you think he might actually drop to the ground and grovel if you asked him to. "Just one!"

No matter how hard you try to pull away Seokjin is persistent. "Why should I?"

"Because you have a conscience?" He pleads. "The human desire to help others in need?"

"This is crazy—"

"I'll repay you!"

You pause. "How?"

"Undecided." His head tilts in thought. "You need money?"

Disgust courses through your veins. This guy thinks he can buy you? You have encountered some entitled rich guys at Paradise but this has to be the icing on the cake, an unbelievable disconnect from acceptable social discourse — though are you surprised? He doesn't exactly have a reputation for being a good conversation holder for fucks sake, just ask his other dates.

You scoff. "I don't accept bribes. I think we're done here. Good luck with your plan or...whatever."

"Y/N wait—" Something in his voice makes you stop dead this time. An authority. No longer pleading but commanding. "I'll fire you myself right here if you don't help me out just once."

Your heart twists. Part of you knows that whatever Seokjin has in mind will be batshit crazy, if his antics tonight were anything to judge by. It would pain you to do something so demeaning but...you need this job. The decision was practically made for you.

You swivel to face him. He is standing over you now, hands on hips as if he means business. "One favor! That's it!"

He punches the air triumphantly. "You want it in writing or something?" He teases, the glint in his eye back now and taunting as you practically vibrate with a combination of embarrassment and rage.

"Don't push it." You warn. 

"Okay, jeez." He throws his hands up in defense. You are acutely aware of the hysterical giggles coming from the kitchen belonging to none other than Jungkook and Jimin and the way your face burns scarlet as you storm away from Seokjin with fists clenched. "I'll let you know when I need you, sweetheart."

09:04, from unknown: — 10 o clock. meet me outside the archery court. — go to locker 16, key will be in the lock. you'll find everything you need inside

The light of your phone stings your half-open eyes, slumber still clinging to your body as you rub away any remnants of sleep with your knuckles and re-read the strange text over and over again.

Archery? An accidental text to the wrong number, surely?

You glance at the clock next to your bed - the text was sent over twenty minutes ago by now. Whoever the recipient was supposed to be wouldn't have long to get ready.

09:26, you: — huh? who is this?

Before you can even set your phone down and swing your legs out of bed your phone pings, the sound enough to make you wince in your sleepy state.

09:26, unknown: — it's seokjin??? — you know, the guy you're supposed to be marrying?

Excuse you?

All remnants of sleep and/or inner peace are ripped away as soon as you see his name pop up on your homescreen.

"Seokjin?" You splutter out loud. A name you never thought you would have to see again, let alone at this time in the morning.

You scramble into a sitting position, back pressed to the headboard as you grip your bed hair in pure disbelief. The three little dots bounce menacingly at the bottom of the screen as you type and re-type a response. Eventually you settle on something simple and to the point:

09:28, you: — how the fuck did you get this number???

Ping ping. You resist a face palm as you gather the confidence to input your password and read whatever bullshit Seokjin responded with.

09:29, unknown: — i think you're forgetting i own this place — not to brag but ive got connections — anyway, you have half an hour to get your ass over here before my sister arrives.

As you thought - utter bullshit. His sister? It's almost as if Seokjin thinks you are actually dating - or even worse, actually getting hitched.

Wait...he doesn't...does he? You suppress a groan. Why else would he be dragging you out of your apartment to go and shoot arrows at targets with his sister instead of polishing his golf club collection or lounging with self made millionaires or whatever rich things rich guys do.

You are just here to get some culinary experience. To blend into the background like the rest of the employees at Paradise, to focus on making the lives of CEO's and retired business men as easy and as luxurious as possible. Why on earth is he even taking notice of you?

09:30, you: — your sister??

09:30, unknown: — yeah? who'd you think you were arching with? — i don't do sports. — count yourself lucky my mom had to take a rain check

Fuck. His mom?

"Get a grip!" You chastise yourself. You had barely spoken two words to each other before the other night, his existence unbeknownst to yours let alone yours to his; the exchange itself a glitch in the simulation and definitely not something which you wanted to make a habit - so why are you instilled with nerves at the thought of meeting this guy's family?

You don't have time to respond with a harsh reminder of your respective positions at Paradise and why this is absolutely a Bad Idea before Seokjin sends a series of reassuring follow up texts, almost as though he read your mind and all it's reluctant thoughts.

09:32, unknown: — don't worry so much this is just to make people think we're really seeing each ohter — other* — hurry, can't have people thinking my future wife isn't punctual — doesn't look good for the reputation 😎

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck!

This is actually happening. How did you manage to get roped into some rich dudes family drama and his consequent plan of deception? And why on earth you fly out of bed, desperately trying to pat down your fly away bed hair while simultaneously shrugging on a pair of jeans is utterly beyond you.

But deep down you know why. It's because you have a sympathy for Seokjin. A goddamn sympathy for the man who seemingly had everything and who every other resident at Paradise wished they could be.

You are increasingly aware of the way your heart hammers against your rib cage, pulse quickening with every tick of the clock that brings you closer to 10 o clock. Not because you're about to see Seokjin again, surely?

Pfft. Of course not! This is just a favour - a formality as an acquaintance if you could even call yourself that.

The clock ticks over to 09:40. No, you promise yourself as you scoop up your bag and your keys. It's doesn’t mean anything, it’s just because you hate being late.

You end up being late anyway, despite rushing to Paradise from your nearby apartment without so much as considering breakfast and somehow managing to gather the courage to open the door to the women's locker room.

Embarrassment pools in your stomach when you feel the quizzical eyes of Paradise regulars burning into your back over the edges of their martini glasses. It takes all your strength to pass by them with your eyes trained to your shoes, hoping to seem unbothered by their towel turbans and gossiping lips.

You’re unsure why you feel so out of place. It's not as if you are trespassing; they gave you a benefits card when you accepted the job, giving you access to some of the resort's facilities. Some would say it was generous, but it's not as if you ever had a chance to use them in between long kitchen shifts.

Luckily, you doubt there's a risk of them recognising you from the kitchen. The resort is mostly populated by younger club members and besides it's not as if they ever cared to study your face for long enough to commit it to memory.

Still, your casual sweater and jeans combo makes you stand out like a sore thumb in a room full of designer polo shirts and athletic wear and you can't suppress the sigh of relief that escapes you when you make it past a hoard of already merry day drinkers on their way to a hot yoga class in search of locker 16 as instructed by Seokjin.

Sure enough, a key sits snugly in the lock. When you open the metal door you find a tennis skirt with a matching polo shirt, both folded neatly beneath a pair of strikingly white sneakers.

You scoop the pile into your arms, surprised when a card flutters to the ground. You recognise the Paradise logo in the corner, an unfamiliar handwritten scrawl smudged across the front in black pen.

Put these on and meet me round the back of the range. I'll be waiting. - SJ

You roll your eyes. Would it kill him to say please? Not that he is used to asking nicely. Manners are few and far between when things are handed to you on a silver platter (or by an underpaid kid with a summer job). At least that's what you gathered from your observations since you got here.

You slip into the white ensemble, silently thanking the you from yesterday for shaving your legs when you notice just how uncomfortably short the skirt is. The fabric smells like one of those expensive perfumes you sprayed at the store once and you briefly wonder who these clothes belong to.

Fastening your hair into a high pony tail like you see the other girls here do, you take a deep breath and finally sidle up to the full body mirror.

Almost everyone has filtered out of the locker room by now, some to spa appointments, others to sports matches and you find yourself alone, nearly choking on the humid air when you take in your appearance for the first time.

You look like you belong here.

Collar popped around your neck, skirt falling in perfect pleats around your waist, hair falling against your cheekbones. Not a speck of dirt on the branded shoes cushioning your soles.

For a moment you feel a sense of pride fill your chest, head resting high on your shoulders as you bask in the confidence that washes over you until you feel giddy with belonging.

Until you remember what you really are. An imposter.

Despite your Paradise inspired appearance you are nothing but a fake. A smudge on one of the picture perfect Paradise postcard's in the gift shop.

Your shoulders deflate, the sudden urge to tug your sweater back on and run as fast as you can becoming overwhelming.

Your let yourself slump onto one of the plush couches, head falling into your hands. What are you doing here? Letting some guy dress you up like a doll and show you off to save his own ass?

Besides, his family would see through you as soon as you walked out there. After all a polished stone, although pretty, can never be a diamond. And these people know diamonds like the back of their hands.

Is it because he has the authority to fire you from the kitchen job you worked so hard to get? Or is it because somewhere deep inside you are curious to see what could be in this for you?

A vibration on the couch beside you draws you from your thoughts.

10:09, unknown: — where r u????? — you know where the range is right???

God, why didn't you just say no in the first place?

"Just get on with it," you tell yourself sternly. Meet his sister, smile politely and leave without owing Kim Seokjin a single thing.

You will save his ass, buy him the time he needs to convince his parents to get off his back. And then you can go back to your culinary uniform and back to serving up lobster to rich people and you can forget this ever happened and that he so much as exists.

With a shaky breath you get to your feet, throwing your familiar clothes into the locker along with your comfort zone and what feels like your entire identity.

If this is going to work you couldn't think like Y/N, you realise. You have to think like a Paradise country club member. And luckily for you, your careful observation of other residents from the kitchen gives you quite a lot of material to work with.

Before you can second guess yourself you're taking a deep breath and striding out of the locker room door and into the sunny resort grounds.

Oh god. I'm really doing this. You suddenly feel exposed as you pass the golf court, just managing to dodge a rattling cart before it flattened you.

A pair of girls stroll past with arms interlinked, tennis rackets swinging at their sides leisurely as they make their way to the course.

Oh god. They're gonna see through you. Oh god. Just smile!

You let the corners of your mouth curve up into the closest thing to a smile you can muster, pleased when you earn a friendly nod in greeting before they dive back into their conversation again.

Nobody is noticing. You hold your head high, telling your shoulders to relax and look natural. You can do this.

You reach the range but instead of following the group of middle aged men ahead of you up to the front entrance, you slip round the back. Your eyes land on him instantly; none other than Kim Seokjin, leaning impatiently against the wall, just like he said he would be.

His appearance is enough to have you faltering in your tracks. Unlike the last time you saw him when he donned a much less flattering eye sore of a Hawaiian shirt, he's put together from head to toe - white button up tucked into a pair of tailored trousers, brown loafers showing off his ankles, the whole outfit finished off by a knit sweater tied around his shoulders.

"Wow." You can't help it. You're starting to see why he had a reputation for being particularly easy on the eye.

You swallow thickly, shaking the stunned feeling from your head and ignoring the way your heart beats a little faster the closer you draw to him.

"Finally!" Seokjin hums as he lets out a frustrated huff, eyes glued to the Rolex on his wrist. "Where have you been-"

His breath hitches when he finally looks up and takes you in for the first time. You were surely imagining the way his eyes widen and look you up and down. Right?

"Well well," Seokjin regains his self control quickly, licking his lips. "Someone scrubs up well."

Smartass. "To my credit you've only ever seen me in my work clothes."

"Touché." He purses his lips. "Nobody could make those hats look good. Except me, obviously."

There is that glint in his eye again. As if he is messing with you to get you riled up again. If he wasn't the Kim Seokjin you'd mistake him as flirtatious.

You hug your torso, confidence dwindling with every second you stand beneath Seokjin's probing gaze, anxious to get out onto the range before it dissipates completely. "So? Are we just gonna stand here?"

"You turn up late and then have the audacity to order me around?" His eyebrows furrow and for a second you think he's going to warn you. Remind you who has the power here.

But then his face breaks out into an amused smirk and you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. "Remember when I said I think you and I are going to get along just fine?"

Seokjin slings his hands into his pockets, striding towards the back door of the facility. He shakes the handle before using his key card to let you both into the archery equipment lodge.

You trail behind him. "Don't get too comfortable," You warn. "This is a one time thing."

Seokjin muses over a selection of crossbows in display cases before fishing in his pocket for a key, unlocking the glass and taking down two flashy ones. He grabs a quiver loaded with arrows from a stand and thrusts both into your arms without warning.

"Sure." He is slinging a quiver over his own shoulder now. He holds open the door to the archery range, gesturing for you to go first. So now he has manners? "If you say so."

The archery range is an expanse of perfectly pruned green grass, surrounded by the breathtaking scenery of fragrant rose bushes and trailing ivy that the resort boasts. And, as you're learning, an excuse for refreshments, as you find yourself now in a fancy veranda bar with high arching windows that overlook the distant targets, serving chilled lemonade and Prosecco and appetisers on fancy napkins.

"Pretty cool, right?" Seokjin asks, resting his elbows on the windowsill and smirking at your speechlessness and open mouthed expression. "But quit looking so surprised, yeah? You gotta make my sister think this is normal for you."

You don't have time to ask what he means before you are being spun around and engulfed in a hug. You freeze, sucking in a breath of surprise, the sickly smell of fancy shampoo engulfing your senses as your face is pushed into a head of perfect ringlets.

"You must be Y/N." The person, a woman, purrs into your ear. "It's good to finally meet you." The way she draws out the word makes you nervous.

This is Seokjin's sister?

Something about it doesn't feel how a hug is supposed to. Instead it feels like a silent interrogation. Are you good enough to be one of us? Nothing about it is warm. Instead it's sticky, your hands patting her back awkwardly, counting the seconds in your head until it is acceptable to pull away from her stiff hold.

When she lets go you are met with the tight lipped smile of a pretty twenty something, eyes scanning your face from beneath a sun visor. A customised hot pink quiver drapes across her shoulder and you notice the way she eyes your borrowed equipment distastefully.

"That would be me." You force a smile that ends up being a little too wide, glancing nervously at Seokjin who simply nods  in encouragement. "It's good to...finally meet you too?"

She holds you at arms length, giving you a once over before speaking tightly. "Well aren't you a doll?"

You must look as terrified as you feel because her eyebrows raise triumphantly. Seokjin senses the tension. He looks between the two of you almost worriedly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. For a second you think his concern is kind of sweet...No! Not allowed.

"No hug for me?" Seokjin swoops in and his sister's features harden at his sarcastic tone, a punch landing on his shoulder which he pretends to rub better, emitting a small ow!

"You're late."

"Sorry Hyejin, couldn't find my best shoes." Seokjin throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you from her grasp a little protectively and flashing an award winning smile that makes your heart flip...No! Definitely not allowed.

"Those are your best shoes?" She grimaces, shaking her head with an air of disappointment. "You left me waiting here for half an hour for those?" Her eyes narrow at you accusingly, as if she knows the truth and wants you to offer an apology.

Seokjin is quick to save you again. "Yup. All my fault. Shall we shoot?"

"Gladly." She smooths down a stray curl, studying her reflection in the glass windows. "I've been itching to see Y/N's aim since I got here. I hear you are a pro, no?"

You choke. A pro?

Luckily she's already stalking across the deck in her click-clacking wedges and out onto the damp green grass, missing the panicked glance shared between yourself and Seokjin.

"Uh-"

"Um-"

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. Think of something, he mouths.

She stops dead, shooting a puzzled glance over her shoulder. "Well are you?"

"Not exactly-" You start.

"I think you're thinking of one of the other...candidates, Hyejin." Seokjin says carefully. He places his palm at the small of your back. The gesture was probably just for show but it comforts you none the less.

"I'm sure she's just being modest." She says to Seokjin, but she's looking right at you. Her forefinger taps against her palm and you can almost see the puzzle pieces falling together in her head before her expression smooths out and you let out a sigh of relief. "So. Shall we?"

Seokjin nods sheepishly. Hyejin slings an arrow into her bow with the ease of an expert, Seokjin quickly following suit. And it is in that moment, as you watch them shoot equally as precise shots to the centre of their respective targets, that it dawns on you. You have never shot a bow and arrow in your life.

"Let's see just how good you are." Hyejin steps back, offering you the main stage. You squint at the targets in the far distance, the rings blurring into one. How on earth did they make hitting those things look so easy?

"Sure thing." You wince at the strain in your voice as you fumble to pull an arrow from your quiver, fingers shaking as you try to sling it into the bow.

You can do this..

You lift the bow, close your eyes and hope for the best when you let go of the arrow, watching as it flies a short distance before sticking upright in the dirt just short of the target.

Cheeks scarlet, you glance at Hyejin who looks positively horrified. "When you said not exactly good I wasn't expecting you to be so...inexperienced. No personal trainer?" She muses, eyeing you quizzically, to which you shoot her an embarrassed smile in confirmation. "Anybody would think it was your first time!" You sheepishly giggle along to the hearty chuckle she enjoys at the mere thought, spluttering when her face suddenly darkens "It's not right?"

You freeze. "Uhhh..."

"It's just nerves," Seokjin insists, palms clamping your shoulders and thrusting you forward again. "She's probably just shitting it because you're watching."

"Language!" Hyejin scolds, letting the roll of Seokjin's eyes slip when she sees you fiddling with another arrow.

This time you prepare the bow with ease, a bout of confidence washing over you as you make eye contact with Seokjin over the top of the bow you raise to your shoulder. His eyes soften slightly and he offers an encouraging nod as you squint at the target and shoot the arrow straight into the centre ring.

You're momentarily shocked at your own abilities before Seokjin is letting out a genuinely impressed hoot, his hand coming between you to offer a sly high five unbeknownst to Hyejin. A silent congratulations for not completely fucking up.

"Pretty good." Hyejin nods, looking genuinely impressed, and you give yourself a silent pat on the back.

Holy shit. This is really working! She believes you belong here!

"Although I'm not sure where father got the idea of professional from with that technique," She lowered her voice, clearly only intending for Seokjin to hear the last part despite you standing beside her. "I must admit her figure seems better suited to tennis anyway..."

Or not. Maybe you still have some work to do...

Hyejin seems in a hurry to get to the next target, and Seokjin hangs back to whisper in your ear before you follow.

"Congrats," He hums with a smirk. "You fit right in. Welcome to Paradise, Y/N."

The next forty five minutes pass quicker than you expect.

"— and I said, 'How could you seat the Jeon's next to the Jung's when you know they're feuding about the business contract'?" Hyejin exclaims. "Scandalous."

"Scandalous." You reply with a bored attempt at enthusiasm, raising your eyebrows at Seokjin over the rim of your glass as you sip cloudy lemonade through a straw. To his credit he looks equally as exhausted with Hyejin's spiel, shaking his knee impatiently as he itches for an opportunity to pounce.

As Hyejin continues to make mildly interrogative small talk and you find it increasingly easier to think on the spot when she asks about your family's (imaginary) dynasty and the university degree in economics you (supposedly) possess, you start to feel more comfortable. But Seokjin still refuses to loosen the arm resting around your shoulders keeping you planted by his side all afternoon, as if he is nervous his sister might swoop down like a bird and take you away at any moment, like a toddler with a toy.

That's why when she suggests a trip to the little girls room to powder your noses, Seokjin throws you a reluctant look. He protests at first when you readily agree (hoping to splash some cold water on your face to cool the constant burn that seems to have settled into your every pore) and he still looks concerned, knee bouncing nervously, when you peel yourself away from his body and disappear into the bar a few steps behind Hyejin who doesn't seem interested in side by side small talk.

In fact, you use the bathroom in silence and she doesn't speak another word until you catch her gaze in the mirror as she emerges from a cubicle behind you.

"You might have my little brother fooled but I see right through you, you know." She sets down her cosmetics bag on the sink, retrieving an expensive tube of lipstick and swiping the pinkish colour over her lips nonchalantly.

The tap stops running over your soaped up hands as you try to curb the nausea her words induce. Does she know who you are? Who you really are?

Despite the shake to your voice you try to play it cool. "W-what do you mean?"

Hyejin's laugh is small and tight, nothing about it humorous at all. Her eyes never leave her reflection, fluffing up her curls with an air of superiority. "I see through parasites like you straight away."

Your mouth falls agape with astonishment. "Parasites?"

"You should know that I have people all over this place who will find out exactly why you came here." For the first time she turns to look you dead in the eye, a bitter smile lacing her lips smugly. She is eye level but it feels like she is towering above you. "What is it you want? Money?"

"No I—"

"Just wait." Hyejin slings her bag over her shoulder triumphantly, voice getting smaller as her heels click across the tiles to the door. She pauses, poking her head back into the room as if burdened with an after thought. "You could do with some more mascara, by the way, darling. Would make you look much prettier."

And then she's gone, leaving you to watch her hips swaying into the distance with hands dripping dry onto the ground.

By the time you calm your nerves enough to emerge from the bathroom looking semi-confident, Hyejin is already ordering another drink and Seokjin is straining his neck to search for you anxiously.

Even from a few meters away you can see the way he sighs with relief when he spots you approaching. It didn't last for long though as he must notice the slightly reddened rings around yours eyes that weren't there before and before you can give him a watery smile in greeting, he is on his feet.

"What happened?"

You bite your lip. "Seokjin, I think I need to go."

"I knew this would happen. Did she try and get in your head?" You nod and his face darkens. "I was an idiot bringing you here."

"It's fine, I shouldn't have agreed, you stay and I'll just go—"

"Right!" Seokjin makes a show of slapping his palms to his knees, practically jumping to his feet and dragging you up with him by your elbow, only a hare away from spilling the drink in your hands. "Sorry to cut this short but I think it's time for Y/N and I to be going."

Hyejin looks positively furious at the suggestion of saying goodbye, gesturing towards the bucket of ice in the centre of the table you had inhabited after your arms began to hurt from holding the archery bow. "But we haven't even opened the Champagne yet, Jin-"

"Oh I don't day drink." You wave her off, biting your lip with instant regret when you see how her face hardens.

"Sorry Hyejin but there really just isn't enough time," Seokjin insists, reaching for your bag to save you the trouble, slinging it across your shoulder and pushing you by the shoulders towards the exit. It's not like you have a choice in the matter but you have to admit you are relieved the whole fiasco is finished. "Send my best wishes to Wonho and Minhye!"

"Minhyuk." Hyejin splutters as she staggers to her feet, chair scraping obscenely. "Your nephew's name is Minhyuk!"

"Good to know!" Seokjin calls over his shoulder, already speed walking into the lobby before you can make out her response.

When Seokjin decides there is enough distance between you and the range he drops his arm from where it drapes around your shoulders. You didn't realise it was there until it was already gone, a cold emptiness settling over you. Why had it felt so natural?

He lets out a deep sigh of relief. "Thank god that's over with. I thought she would never stop talking."

You snort in agreement. "I've never told so many lies in my life."

"I find that hard to believe." Seokjin smirks when you slap his arm playfully. "It came too easily to you."

"It's your fault! Your deceptive ways are rubbing off on me!"

"Deceptive ways?" Seokjin splutters, a genuine laugh spilling from his lips. Heartier and much different to the strained chuckles he's been giving Hyejin all day. You decide by the way your heart lurches that you like it much better. "I'll have you know I never lie."

"You're joking right?" Surely he is aware that it was him that roped you into this identity fraud master plan in the first place? The smirk on his face says yes. It's your turn to laugh, mimicking his earlier tone. "I find that hard to believe."

"Then ask me a question and I'll tell you the honest truth and nothing but the truth."

"Uhh okay?" You pause, mulling over all the questions you really want to ask. Why did you choose me? Does this make us friends? Are you gonna look through me again at the restaurant when this whole thing is over?  Before you sheepishly settle on something more appropriate.

"How much is the resort worth? It must be a lot if you would go to all this...trouble."

"Five hundred."

"Five hundred thousand?"

"You're coy. Of course not." He chuckles. "Million."

Oh. Well now everything makes sense.

"Come on, ask me another." Seokjin bumps his shoulder against yours playfully, hair falling in his eyes that you’re desperate to push away. Your cheeks burn. "What's on your mind, kitchen girl?"

Don't say it...don't say it...

"D-did your sister hate me?"

Too late. The question slips out before you can stop it and you slap a hand over your mouth in shock.

He narrows his eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

Why do you want to know? It's not like any of this really mattered - it wasn't real after all. So why does your stomach twist when you remember the spiteful way Hyejin spoke to you?

You flash a sheepish smile. "J-just interested."

Your ego was just bruised that's all. It was natural to feel bad when someone didn't like you, right?

"Then yes."

Oh.

Your chest clenches for no reason. Maybe he really never lies after all, huh?

Seokjin must notice the way you pout. "It's not personal! That's just how she is. Honestly, out of all the candidates so far you're the one she hated the least..."

You snort. "Good to know?"

You come to a stop outside the locker room doors. You don't know what to say - what is left? Goodbye? Thank you?

You're probably never going to speak to him again, true; but goodbye feels too formal. Too real. Instead you stay quiet, the sound of cicadas and balls hitting racquets filling the silence as Seokjin’s chocolate brown eyes make you weak at the knees when they darken, his body drawing ever closer to yours.

"Aren't you gonna ask how I plan on repaying you?"

Seokjin's fingers wrap around your elbow before you can slip away and you gasp at how his skin burns yours. You swallow thickly. The light bounces off his face dazzlingly and you have to admit he looks good right now, with his shirt unbuttoned lazily and his bitten lips inches from yours.

"I-I forgot about that." You admit. Sure you had been uptight about this whole idea initially but you couldn't deny the fact that today had been kinda fun. Did you really need a reward? Maybe you'd got a little lost in pretending to be someone else. So what?

"Well," Seokjin draws closer until your back presses against the wall, his breath hot next to your ear. "I have something in mind."

Your pulse quickens when you feel his hand rest upon your hip, the rise and fall of his chest so close that you get tingles down your spine.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "W-what is it?"

His chuckle is warm against your sensitive neck and you shudder when his lips ghost over your skin, so so close. "Can I show you?"

"Sure." You breathe.

And then he takes you by the chin, lining up your mouths and crashing them together in a hot tangle of tongue and teeth, his chapped lips moving against yours with an urgency. Your arms snake around his neck, tangling in the hair at his nape and pulling him into you with a thump.

Before your eyes can flutter shut and your heart can get lost in the feeling of his teeth pulling at your bottom lip and the taste of sour lemonade that still lingers on his tongue, Seokjin pulls back with a smirk, eyes dropping to your parted lips and then back to your blown out eyes with a satisfaction.

He runs a knuckle down your cheek. You feel your legs weaken.  "I want you."

The huskiness in his voice makes your head spin, chest burning with the desire to connect your lips again. But you resist.

"Why?" You squeeze your eyes shut, head lolling back against the wall to avoid his gaze, embarrassed at how shaky your voice sounds after one kiss. God, you're weak. "Why me?"

"Like I said," Seokjin's fingers trace down your sides, eyes darkening when he notices the way the light touch makes you shiver under him. "I want you. Have since I first saw you."

He wants you? What about all those other girls, the ones he sent running? The ones who were much more suited to him than you would ever be?

"So what?" You scoff, biting your lip to stop a needy gasp when he presses a bold kiss to your jaw. "Want to add me to the list of girls who — mmf — w-who you seduced?"

He pauses, lips pressed against your burning skin for a little longer while he registers your words. "Maybe." He resumes his earlier actions, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "Is that so bad?"

"I can't do this." You bite your lip. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't intending on letting Seokjin get to you, didn't mean to become a mark in his black book or a notch in his bed post.

"Why not?" He presses his forehead to yours. Your breath hitches and you will the warm tingle in your stomach to go away. "I saw you checking me out on the range."

The way he grins tells you that you hadn't been so subtle after all.

"And besides," Seokjin grips your ass through your skirt, making you gasp to his satisfaction. "This way, I get to pay you back and have some fun of my own."

"H-how?" You can feel yourself slipping. Into his touch, into his words.

"By making you cum." That had your panties damp and he knew it, the heat between your legs distracting you from the way he groans against your lips when your hips buck into him involuntarily.

It's like he knows what you need, slotting his leg between your own and putting pressure on the growing ache in your core. "I know you want this too."

He's right, the way the cotton of your panties has begun to cling to your folds a tell tale sign of your arousal. Seokjin knew exactly how to make you putty in his hands. Every teasing touch of his lips to your neck, every feather light trace of his fingers has him chuckling darkly when you melt into his body, unable to resist the way he makes your core ache needily for his touch.

"Come on, I can make you feel good." Your breath hitches when fingers toy with the hem of your skirt. "If I just lift this up..."

Oh god. If you don't stop now it'll be too late...

His hand slips beneath your skirt, pads of his fingers hooking your sodden panties to the side, the flash of cold air against your needy folds making you whine into the crook of his neck. "P-please."

You feel him smirk against your hair, speaking with a tone so sickly sweet you would've rolled your eyes if your clit wasn't already pulsating for his touch. "Please what?"

"Make me cum."

"I knew you would come round." He pulls back to face you, drinking in the expression on your face which you presume is utterly fucked out. You have to admit the way his own irises have darkened with what you recognise as lust makes your stomach leap in anticipation. "So desperate for me already hm?"

You whine, somewhat in confirmation, somewhat in frustration at his refusal to touch you even when you buck against his hand. "Please."

"I wouldn't have put you down as the begging type." His hand suddenly cups your heat, pads of his fingers circling your entrance teasingly. He lets out a choked groan when he feels your arousal. "This wet for me? Already?"

"What do you expect?" You stammer, squeezing his shoulders and holding back on the urge to buck against his palm again. "You've got your hand up my skirt."

"Mmm, I could just make you come undone right here." His eyes darken, tongue snaking out to wet his chapped lips hungrily. "Could easily fuck you out nice and slow with my fingers if I wanted to, hmm?" Seokjin has begun to circle your entrance teasingly, making you squirm every time he nearly slips inside.

"Fuck." Your eyes are squeezed shut, breathing already laboured despite him barely even touching you, just the thought of him filling you up getting you dangerously worked up. "I want you to."

"What was that?" Seokjin's lips curve up mischievously, one of his fingers nearly filling you up before he removes his hand and you groan with frustration. "Gotta use your words sweetheart."

Your heart thumps at the use of the pet name but you choose to ignore it, instead reaching between your bodies to clasp his wrist before it disappears completely. "Fuck me," you pant, eyes roaming his with desperation. His staunch gaze never falters. "Please, fuck me now."

Seokjin connects your swollen lips again, but not before mumbling against them gruffly. "Remember you asked for it."

Then, his free hand to spreads your legs, knee stopping them from closing as his other hand closes in on your aching core. The feeling of his digits running down your soaked slit has you panting and you feel your legs buckle when he pressed two of his lithe fingers into your heat without warning. You are dripping by now, hole accommodating the stretch and allowing his fingers to slip inside easily.

Your clit pulsates with need and you want to feel Seokjin everywhere, have him take you in any way he wants, momentarily lost to the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of your heat; until you remember that you have Seokjin's hand down your pants in broad daylight and anyone could walk by and see just how weak he makes you.

"Wait!" He halts his ministrations, raising a brow. "W-we can't, not here."

You mewl when his thumb ghosts across your swollen clit, touch light but enough to have you gasping into the crook of his neck.

"Let's take this inside, then." Before you can ask what he means his fingers disappear, leaving your hole clenching agonisingly around nothing again. He presses the arousal coated digits to your lips and you enjoy the way his jaw tightens as you eagerly take them into your hot mouth, humming when you taste yourself on your own tongue. "Fuck you'll drive me crazy if you keep this up."

You can tell you are getting to him, even if he is trying to hide it. The way his eyes roll back when you suck his fingers clean, how he bites his cheek to stop a lustful groan when his eyes dip between your bodies to your almost naked heat tells you all you needed to know.

He can't take it any longer.

Seokjin pulls his hand away with a wet pop, your throbbing heat protesting when he let your legs fall shut, linking his clammy hand with your own. "Come with me."

It takes a second to remember how to walk, letting him pull you behind him in your dizzy haze. His hand is warm in yours and your entire body aches to feel them on you again. It's already too late to hide your swollen lips and slightly mussed up hair before Seokjin drags you right into the men's locker room .

"Wait, we can't do it in here—"

"Everyone out!" Seokjin's voice bellows through the locker room, all its inhabitants pausing their ministrations to peer at you curiously.

You try to let go of Seokjin's hand to button up your shirt but he won't let you, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you hide behind him self consciously, knees knocking. "We need to use the locker room."

A groan erupts through the room, a chorus of again? permeating the sound of lockers slamming shut with frustration before one by one all the dudes in the locker room began to shuffle past you to the exit.

"Seokjin!" You hiss, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear angrily. "Now everyone knows!"

Seokjin's thumb rubs across your knuckles soothingly. "Who cares?"

You feel your cheeks flush hotly when a man you recognise from the restaurant, now wearing nothing but a towel, narrows his eyes in a knowing look. You willed the ground to swallow you up.

The sound of footsteps ceases, the door swings closed and finally you're alone.

"Better?" Seokjin turns to you expectantly.

"I can't believe you just did that!" You cover your face with your palms. "God how am I going to look any of them in the eyes again."

"They don't care." He soothes, your unamused expression not faltering still.

"Are you even allowed to do that? W-What if they tell someone—"

"They won't," Seokjin smirks. "They value their memberships here too much."

You bite your lip. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

Seokjin rushes forward to cup your face in his palms reassuringly. The act feels a little too sincere and you nearly melt at the intimacy, resisting copying his motion by pinching your palm instead. "It's okay, seriously! They're just jealous that I get lucky more around here than any of the old bastards have in their entire lives."

"I don't believe you." Your words are muffled by his chest, his chuckle vibrating against your cheek.

"They're jealous because they'll never get this lucky."

"Huh?" Seokjin's hands slide down the small of your back to cup your ass, lifting your entire weight so that your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a giggle of surprise when his face comes into view, smirking up at you.

"Lucky enough to get someone as pretty as you underneath them."

There they are again, the butterflies in your stomach, the skip of a beat in your heart, a warmth spreading through your chest that feels too good to question right now. "Technically I'm above you." You mumble. "Besides they were all, like, fifty years old or something."

"Just shut up would you?" Seokjin stumbles forward, throwing you roughly onto one of the couches. The fabric feels like velvet when your nails clutch at it desperately, trying to hold on to whatever control you have left when Seokjin drops to his knees between your legs to hover over you. "And kiss me for fucks sake."

You oblige, pulling him by the collar to connect your lips in a kiss even more heated than before if that was even possible. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you sigh contentedly into the kiss when he pulls your face even closer with his palms.

"F-fuck." He pulls back with a pop, hands roaming along the tops of your thighs too teasingly for you to handle. By now you're so worked up that you just needed him to take you roughly, the thought of his cock pounding in and out of you making you moan when you feel his bulge brush your leg. God you want him more than you knew it was possible, the way your clit pulses at the thought of how good it would feel to come around him or better yet feel him come inside you overwhelming.

"Seokjin, p-please fuck me." You practically whine, letting your head fall against the couch cushion when his thumbs fiddle with the lace of your panties. "Wanna feel you inside me."

The sound that comes from his throat seems strangled. "Fuck, what did I say about driving me crazy?"

"Need you so bad," You rotate your hips to emphasise your desperation, the action providing you with no relief when his steel like grip prevents you from putting any pressure on your dripping folds. "Wanna cum for you."

You blink up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows a moan. He liked it when you provoked him, you could tell. His resolve is crumbling with every word out of your mouth.

"Please, I'm so wet." Fuck, you are. You can feel it dripping down your ass, probably making a mess of the couch below you. You hope it can be dry cleaned. "Just fuck me now—mmf!"

Seokjin shuts you up with a hard press of his lips to yours, the action conveying he's just as desperate as you, the way his hands trembled telling you he isn't as unaffected as he wants to appear.

His breathing is nearly as ragged as yours now. "You like riling me up don't you?"

He runs a shaky hand through his hair exasperatedly and you look up at him hopeful, willing him to touch you, kiss you, anything.

"I'm not going to fuck you."

Oh.

You stiffen beneath him, his words shocking you still.

He doesn't want you. Simple as that.

This was just another one of his games and you fell straight into it. You close your eyes and braced for him to start laughing. To point his finger and tell you how lame you are for ever thinking that someone like him could want someone like you.

Except nothing comes. Just the sound of your shaky breaths and a shower running nearby.

"Why?" Your voice is small now and you draw your knees to your chest, trying to hide as much from him as possible. "You don't want to?"

He looks dismayed at your suggestion, palms shooting out to push you back down and pull you back into his hold again.

"It's not that, Y/N." You let out a relieved breath, not fighting Seokjin when his forehead falls against your chest in defeat, heavy breaths ghosting across the tops of your breasts. You're sure he can feel the way your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest.

"Then why?" You bite your lip. You sound too needy, to whiny. Why do you even care if he wants you or not? This is a one off anyway.

"God, I want nothing more than to strip you and see you bounce on my cock right here"

Oh.

Seokjin's lips attach to your neck, sucking harshly like a man deprived, as though he can't hold back any longer. His hands roam everywhere they can reach, rubbing your breasts over your shirt before his fingers work on the buttons eagerly.

"S-Seokjin..."

"Would give anything to see you come undone on my cock. Bet you'd moan so pretty when I pound you, yeah?"

Truth be told you'd let him right now if he said the word, the thought of him stretching you out making you see stars before he has even properly touched you. Your core is hot and sticky against your panties while you clench around nothing while his every word makes you writhe to be filled. "Then w-why don't you?"

"Because there's plenty of time for that, princess." He flashes you a smile. Plenty of time? Why did he make it sound as if this wasn't a one time thing? As if you'd be back for more? "This is for you remember? Gotta pay you back."

You yelp when Seokjin lifts your ass, thumbs finally dragging your panties down your legs and throwing them behind him before he spreads your legs with a hunger. "Let me taste you, hm?"

Seokjin pushes your skirt around your waist, exposing your core to his hungry eyes, drinking in how you look all spread out for him. Just the sight of him so close to your dripping heat makes the coil in your stomach tighten and you're sure you could cum just from the way his lips part in anticipation.

He looks up at you for confirmation, smirking when you nod your head before falling back against the couch weakly when he drags a finger down your slit teasingly, licking his lips when you mewl at the brief contact with your clit. "So pretty."

He sinks back against his heels, cheek warm against your inner thigh, hot breath caressing your clit. A moan escapes you at the feeling much to his amusement, his bruising grip on your thighs stopping you from bucking up. "Hurry up — mmf — please."

For the first time he listens to your request, skipping the teasing to run a long stripe up your soaking slit. Seokjin groans against your clit and you quiver, his staggered breaths hot against your dripping folds. "Taste so good, sweetheart."

"S-Seokjin," Hands spread your legs as far as they cN go and then plump lips engulf your clit, sucking with a perfect harshness that makes your legs shake and your head fall back with a gasp, hands tangling in his blonde locks tightly enough to have him groaning blissfully. "Fingers!"

The breathiness of your voice makes him chuckle against your heat, vibrations enough to have your knees straining to close around his head, the pressure between them almost too much. "What was that?"

"Fingers," You reiterate, aware of how fucked out you soundjust from feeling his tongue on your clit, every teasing flick making your entrance pulse. "Inside me, now."

"No please?" The drag of Seokjin's flat tongue down your slit to prod at your hole is sinful, the way he took to fucking you with his tongue teasingly drawing small whimpers from your lips. It's mesmerising how he knows just how to make you fall apart.

"P-please!"

The gentle brush of his nose against your clit nearly has you coming on the spot. "Turn over." He growls against your mound. An arm wraps around your waist and before you can protest his mouth leaving your heat, you are being flipped onto your hands and knees, Seokjin's palm pushing your head down against your forearms so that your ass comes up for his viewing pleasure. "That's more like it."

"F-fuck." It feels dirty being on display for him like this, dripping wet and wiggling your hips, desperate for friction against your spread folds. Pressing your cheek to the couch, you catch a glimpse of Seokjin's expression as he takes you in, eyes black with desire, lips still coated in your sticky arousal.

"Shit." His breath hitches. "Such a pretty pussy, hm?"

It's your turn to take a shaky inhale when a single finger circles your entrance, Seokjin humming approvingly when you clench hopelessly around nothing. Knowing you are so close to being filled even with a single finger gets you panting, circling your hips and trying to sink down onto the digit that smears your wetness through your folds lewdly. Seokjin pulls his hand away with a click of his tongue.

"That desperate to be filled, baby?" His tone is taunting, followed by a chuckle when you whine at the way his words make your clit throb. "Fuck, such a slut, dripping wet for just my fingers."

He reaches around to press the pad of his finger against your lips and you suck it instinctively, humming when you taste yourself, some of your sticky arousal smearing on your chin. Seokjin's head rolls back, the visual practically sending him into sensory overload.

"Such a slut," A loud slap fills the room, a palm landing flat against your upturned ass, the sensation making you cry out in surprise. His breath is hot and ragged against your ear. "You like that?"

Despite the embarrassed shake of your head another smack lands to the flesh of your other cheek with enough force to leave a mark this time. It stings when he rubs his calloused hands over the reddening skin that is now burning hot where it collided with his palm but the pain quickly dissipates to pleasure and you bite your hand to stop from moaning out too lewdly. "Use your words, princess."

"Seokjin!" You can't hold back from whining his name when his palm lands straight on your heat, the sharp pain a somehow welcome relief when he instantly rubbed a few soothing circles into your folds with the pads of his fingers, each graze of your clit making your legs shake uncontrollably. "I-I need more."

"This?" Without warning he presses two fingers into your pussy, entrance squeezing around him wildly at the pleasant stretch. Every flick of his wrist permeates through the locker room with a loud squelch, testament of just how worked up you were.

"Ugh!" Every drag of his fingers against your velvety walls has your eyes rolling back, the way he curls the digits with every thrust hitting your sweet spot perfectly, like he knew exactly how to drive you crazy. "S-so good."

You are starting to get out of breath, meeting his thrusts by rocking back against his hand and this time he doesn't protest, encouraging you by kneading the flesh of your ass and groaning in time with the sharp gasps leaving your lips each time the heel of his hand brushes your swollen clit.

"Think you can cum again with just my fingers, baby?" The way you clench around around his digits is a tell tale sign that your second high is close. Just his words alone nearly make you fall over the edge, words slurred as you try to focus on anything other than the unrelenting pulse between your legs.

"N-need more." You sound utterly fucked out, eyes squeezed shut and lost to the feeling of being filled but the stretch isn't quite enough and you need more to tip you over the edge. "Another one."

Seokjin lines up a third finger with your entrance, the ring on his finger cold against your hot walls as he slides it in beside the others at an agonisingly slow pace; to allow you to adjust to the stretch or to taunt you can't tell. By the time he gets to his knuckles your body is wracked with laboured breaths, quivering knees barely able to hold your weight as you bite the inside of your cheeks to curb a string of whines at being finally filled.

Of course, his fingers weren't as good as the real thing and you wonder how he is able to control himself when your mouth waters at the thought of feeling him inside of you instead of his hand.

The room is still a little humid from the showers, a layer of sweat glistening across your skin as you chase your high with determination, the stickiness between your legs dripping down Seokjin's wrist and making him tut, the click of his tongue heightening the sensation.

"That's it, cum for me." The authority lacing his tone tips you over the edge, another smack stinging your ass as you bury your face in the couch with a cry, the feeling of his fingers pumping you through your high almost too much to bare but as soon as they are ripped away and you're left clenching around nothing you miss the feeling of being full.

"So pretty when you cum." Seokjin murmurs. Under normal circumstances you would have been embarrassed, self conscious even with your ass up for anyone to see, release leaking on to the couch, but you're too fucked out to care about anything m, barely able to register Seokjin's new found gentleness as he flips you onto your back and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear while you focus on returning your breathing back to a normal pace.

"Holy shit." The beat of your heart seemsdeafening in your ears, the only other sound you can comprehend being Seokjin's own ragged breathing.

"Fuck, I nearly just came in my pants." When you manage to turn your head he is staring straight at you with disbelief, eyes travelling to your swollen lips. "I'm going to jerk off to this image forever."

"Me too." You murmur honestly.

Your lids fall shut in post orgasm bliss, not expecting the incoming peck Seokjin presses to your parted lips. It is barely a kiss, plump flesh of his lips brushing yours for less than a second but a funny warmth spreads through your chest at the gesture. Seokjin seems as surprised as you, as if he can't quite believe he just did that, shuffling to the other side of the couch to put some distance between you.

"You should uh, get dressed." He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly and turning away to give you some privacy, as if he hadn't just had his head between your legs just a moment ago.

His behaviour, albeit kind of strange, makes you smirk and you decide it won't hurt to tease. "Well, at least now we're even."

Seokjin bites his lip when he turns around to find your skirt back around your thighs, overcome with a new confidence, sauntering over and palming your ass like he owns it. "Nope, not getting away that easily. I think you'll find I made you cum twice. So now you owe me. Again."

"And what do I owe you this time, Kim Seokjin?" You place your hands on his chest, no instinct to push him away for some reason. "Golfing with your brother up next?"

"No," He scoffs. "My brother wouldn't be caught dead with a club."

"Then what?"

You notice the glint in his eye again, the one you are starting to crave. "Let me get to know you."

"Isn't that what you did today?"

He shakes his head. "The real you."

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <33

[fritae]

The Missing Piece : Chapter 1

Gang leader! AU / Corporate! AU

Characters: Dabi x F/OC

Status: Ongoing

Summary:

Rina Aoki is the secretary of one of the world's biggest broadcasting stations - only she hates her job and wakes up everyday asking herself if this is all there is to life. Then, she meets Dabi: a man of overpowering confidence and many, many secrets. But beneath all that confidence is a wounded soul and years' worth of repressed anger. The two struggle with fear, ambition, vulnerability - but eventually learn that life may just be better when you don't have to struggle alone.

A/N:

There are no quirks in this story. I tried to give it a real world spin. But it will explore dynamics between good and evil, right and wrong, and feelings of family, friendship, love and belonging. I'm super excited about the story and I hope you enjoy it!Chapter 1: the meeting

Chapter One: The Meeting

It was raining.

I hide my tote under my coat out of fear for my laptop. If it gets wet, I'm done for. My boss isn't exactly the most considerate person out there. If anything were to happen to the highly coveted files on it, I might as well hand in my resignation.

I sigh with relief once the bus arrives, and quickly hurry inside.

As I find a seat, I lean my head against the window, not caring for germs or the subtle tremble of the glass. It feels cool against my skin, and not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. But more importantly, it is distracting. It'll give me something else to focus on during the ride.

At least I hoped so.

But within minutes, it becomes clear that my mind has no intention of being distracted. The thoughts creep in and suddenly the soft hum of the engine is no match against the throbbing in my head.

Of course not.

Distractions simply don't last long these days.

So I surrender to the thoughts as I stare at the passing streets, feeling increasingly empty by the minute.

I hate my job. I hate everything about it. Working as a secretary for a broadcasting company is a dream for many. The salary isn't bad. I have access to exclusive events and frequently coordinate with the biggest names in the industry. I know the ins and outs of selling an idea and making it resonate with millions.

But I quickly learned all the people in this industry are insufferable. The whole premise rests upon the art of manipulation, taking something that may very well be worthless and conning people into thinking it will fill a hole they didn't even know they had. The people are superficial, be it actors or other famous personalities. Everyone is so obsessed with images. How to best put on a show to gain the love and admiration of millions.

But what use is their love if it's built upon the distortion of reality?

I shake my head before burying it in my palms.

No matter, I tell myself.

As frustrating and unfulfilling as the work may be, it pays the bills and keeps me busy.

A little too busy...

I get up once my stop arrives. I say a quick thank you to the bus driver before hurrying out.

The cold makes me shiver and I pull my skirt to cover more of my thighs before plastering a fake smile onto my face.

The fake smile is part of the uniform here.

My heels click together with attitude as I make my way through the building. The noise hits my ears immediately. Loud chattering, blaring music and upbeat announcements stand in sharp contrast to the calm of the rainy world outside. I blow kisses as my colleagues call out my name from the studio floor.

My friend and roommate Aliyah takes off her headset to wave me over. She left home extra early today owing to her busy schedule as floor manager. The glaring lights tell me they're about to start shooting but as much as I want to help her with final preparations, I have more important things to worry about right now.

"Can't talk now, Al!" I say apologetically. With one point to my tote bag, she understands. "Good luck!" she shouts back, before returning her attention to the production crew.

I sigh.

I will definitely need all the luck I can get.

I take the elevator up to the highest floor of the company. While our studios are bright, loud and fun. The offices are formal, professional and characteristic of a multibillion dollar company. I knock twice before heading into the largest office at the end of the hall, where my boss is waiting for me. The letters NNTV adorn the walls in an elegant gold print behind him.

A pair of glasses sits on the bridge of Mr. Lane's nose as he reads over today's reports.

"You're late, Ms. Aoki." He says without looking up.

"Apologies, sir. It was unexpected."

"Do I not say to account for the unexpected in your planning, Ms. Aoki?"

"It won't happen again, sir."

He offers me a *tsk* in response.

"Our ratings have gone down this month. Much more than we anticipated." Mr. Lane grumbles.

"CBS' new reality show has attracted a lot of viewers, sir. It's competing with our usual broadcasts at-."

"Then why have you not found a program to substitute whatever we usually air at that time?"

I bite back a sigh. "The current schedule is the most optimal, sir. If we switch around any programs we risk affecting the viewership of The Midnight Show and Killer."

"Well then figure something out!" He barks. "That's what your job is, isn't it?"

"We have a team for a reason, sir. Perhaps we can consult them today? I can schedule an emergency meeting to address this."

I say this knowing the rest of the team won't alter the schedule. The nature of the industry is ratings fluctuate all the time. To change our scheduling at every hint of a drop will only harm our future ratings.

He waves me away. "Schedule it for two hours from now. Cancel anything else I have at that time."

"Yes sir." I confirm, before turning around.

My nostrils seethe as I suddenly hear him mutter *Useless* under his breath.

The rest of the day is spent taking more orders and backtracking on Mr. Lane's previous decisions. Just as I'd expected, the board decided it would be better to simply wait out the next two weeks until the current programs are finished before rearranging any of the schedules. I make a mental note to consider what might be a suitable alternative in the meantime.

The hours drag on. I should have been done at 5, but 7 o clock hits and I'm still taking phone call after phone call. It isn't until a quarter to 9 that I can finally go home.

I sigh as I pass the much quieter studio floor on the way out. I don't find Aliyah among the crew, but I'm sure she's taking care of her own things at the moment. The Midnight Show is scheduled for well, midnight, so she's probably taking a final break before her last project of the night.

Once I am outside, I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding in. Instead of taking the bus straight home, I find myself walking toward Café Du Monde. It sits a few blocks away from the NNTV building.

The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries greets me as I enter. The soft jazz is welcomed by my ears after a day of nonstop chatter and corporate debate.

As I stand in line, I remind myself to pick up coffees before I leave for the crew working late tonight. Hopefully Aliyah will be back by then.

---

"Shit," I hear the man ahead of me in line mutter. "I think I forgot my wallet back in the office."

He checks his pockets again, but finding them empty he looks up at the cashier. "Sorry man, I'll be back another day."

But before he could walk away, I step up to the register. "It's okay, I got it."

He glances at me. "Nah, don't-"

"It's nothing. Can you add another coffee to the order please?"

The cashier punches a few numbers into the register and I hand him a 20.

---

The man tips his hand in thanks. I nod back at him and walk up to the roof.

With a coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, I sigh. Now to get the day out of my system...

"How can I repay you," A smooth voice says behind me.

I look over my shoulder to see the man walk up to the ledge with me. He has electrifying blue eyes, a head of thick dark hair, and the kind of walk that signifies authority.

"You good at conversation?" I ask.

He thinks for a moment. "How about I let you be the judge of that?"

I pass the man a cigarette. "Then distract me."

"You don't look like the type to smoke." He comments before accepting it.

"Looks can be deceiving." I shrug.

"It feel good or something?"

"Or something." I confirm with a smile. "Just reminds me to breathe in," and with a soft easing in my chest, "and breathe out."

He leans back against the railing. "Hm. You know breathing quality isn't exactly what people would associate with cigarettes."

I roll my eyes. "You know what I mean."

The man chuckles. "Yeah. Although I think rearranging a few things in your life would help more than smoking. Don't want to grow reliant on an outside source for relief now."

"Well, well. Wasn't aware I was speaking to a mental health guru."

He seems amused by that. "That's not what the people working for me would say but it's nice to know their sentiments aren't universal."

"Ah. So you're a shitty boss."

"I'm just a boss." He corrects. "What people think of me has nothing to do with me."

"Must be nice to believe that." I sigh, taking another puff of my roll.

"No reason not to, eh? Letting others' opinions matter to you means you lose power over yourself. There's nothing you could want from them that you can't do for yourself."

"Money?" I suggest.

"That's easy. But it depends on how willing you are to work for it."

"Work quite a lot." I scowl. "...starting to wonder if it's worth the headache, to be honest."

The man leans closer to me, his breath warm against my ear. I try not to focus on the scent of his cologne, musky with notes of amber and cedar wood. "Then what you want isn't really money. Sounds like you want more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Money by itself isn't satisfying," He says matter of factly. He leans away to take a sip of his coffee. "Only when it's coupled with a goal."

"Hm."

"Money doesn't take you anywhere; it's just a means to an end." He continues. There's an air of mystery behind those turquoise eyes of his. "Your goal is what guides you. Where do you want to go?"

Someone in this neighborhood that doesn't live and die for money? I almost want to laugh. What goal guides him then? What does he stay alive for?

But I keep those questions to myself. I shouldn't get too close to a man I'll never see again.

"I want to be my own boss." I say with a soft smile. Be my own boss. Wouldn't that be nice? No more waking up with Mr. Lane's voice already echoing in my head. No more plastering fake smiles and maintaining that "professional" semblance for hours on end. "I'm tired of taking orders from other people."

I almost miss the sudden gleam in his eye.

"Now that's more like it."

---

I leave the cafe with a box of donuts in one hand and a coffee tote in the other.

I said goodbye to the stranger, happy to have shared these thoughts with someone. It strikes me that I didn't even ask his name.

I shrug. Perhaps that's the magic of moments like these. The universe puts us in places we don't expect to be in. Brings two strangers together and they realize maybe this meeting was just what they needed today. The man got his coffee and I...I was able to let my thoughts run freely.

At least for a while.

"And now we abandon the fantasies and return to reality," I mutter with a sigh. I hook my pinkie with the large glass double doors of NNTV and pull the handle toward me.

There's a small audience present now, the guests for the Midnight Show. I walk around them and smile when I find Aliyah, arms crossed and eyes trained on the set, trying to catch any faults before we air.

"Al!" I call out in a whisper. She immediately looks my way, face lighting up at the sight of the coffee.

"Oh, you're a lifesaver!" She says excitedly as she takes the sweets from my hand. "Hey Joe, set this up for the crew, will ya?"

An intern shuffles forward and takes the bags anxiously to prepare a little station for the team.

"How'd you know I needed the coffee?" She smiles at me.

"Because I needed the coffee," I say with a laugh. "And you've been awake far longer than I have."

Aliyah laughs and rubs her eyes. "I forget how much time I spend here sometimes. No matter - you staying for the show tonight?"

I smile apologetically. "You know I'd love to, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I've got a long day tomorrow, I'm gonna need all the sleep I can get."

I say goodbye to the rest of the crew, smiling sheepishly as they spout *thank you*s for the late night coffee and donuts, and make my way home.

Later that night, as I lay in bed with my eyes trained on the ceiling, I feel a sudden urge to whisper these words out loud.

Please let my life be worth more than the value I add to a company.

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

Christmas Party Panic

Christmas/Holiday present and general OC fun for @brainyxbat and @spyrkle4 and @barely-nok read to find out which BH6 character or OC says the f-word.

Seth stretched, their back tingling and aching as they pulled a lush, soft Christmas sweater over their chest, where the scars of surgery had primarily healed, and their back, where the scars were still a little raw.

“Good morning my king,” Morgan mumbled, sleepily reaching for her tube of toothpaste and almost putting lotion on her toothbrush instead. Seth gently corrected her, far more used to being awake early in the morning than their drowsy girlfriend. 

“Morning, sugar,” Seth smirked, “Are you excited for the party?”

“For the… That’s today?” Morgan still didn’t understand how she’d been invited to this party. By all accounts, it didn’t make sense. Things between her and Hiro were tolerant, maybe even a tad protective, but not exactly warm. Wasabi and Fred kind of liked her, but all of them liked Seth and Seth loved Morgan, so Morgan made it to the guestlist for The Lucky Cat Cafe Christmas party.

The guestlist was actually getting pretty long. That was Ari’s fault. If it were up to Hiro, it would just be Big Hero 6, Ari, and Megan. Fred had insisted on inviting Seth which had landed Morgan on the guestlist as well, but Ari was the one throwing around invites to anyone who smiled at her. Which included all of the Ferns, Sienna, Rachel and her folks, and now some random coffee patron.

"You can't add strangers to the guestlist, Ariel.” 

“Doesn’t seem like she’s a stranger to me,” Ari smirked, jerking her head towards Wasabi, who was nervously stumbling over his words and rubbing his neck as he talked to a short girl with green streaks in her hair.

“Look at him,” Ari gigled, “he’s smitten. You’ve got to let him invite Venus. They’re so cute together. You got to invite Megan.” Hiro blushed at the mention of Megan. 

“That’s different. And isn’t he already inviting someone?” 

“No, that’s different, Khary is his brother. You’re inviting me.” 

“You’re not invited, you live here. Khary doesn’t live here. He’s cool though, and I know him, so it’s okay. I don’t know Venus. Too many people are coming to this party.” Hiro ran his fingers through his hair, seeming a little irritated and not very festive. Ari knew that this was difficult for him, his first Christmas without Tadashi. She’d hoped surrounding him with friends, old and new, would help him, but he just seemed uncomfortable. 

Ari placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

“Last year it was just different. I’m glad that you’re here, you’re the best change that ever could’ve happened. But last year… And Morgan…” 

Ari frowed. She hadn’t been around Morgan much but she liked her. Morgan was confusing and intriguing and always seemed like she was down for a good though slightly illegal time. Rachel had met her once and quietly commented that Morgan reminded her of Katie, if Katie was human and nice. 

“What about Morgan?” Hiro didn’t seem to like Morgan much, though Ari had never really understood why, until Hiro answered her.

“Morgan was Tadashi’s girlfriend. Now she’s what? Turned around and found somebody new?”

“Seth is really cool, you shouldn’t be upset at them.”

“I’m not upset at them! I don’t care about them. I’m upset that Morgan moved on so fast.” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her, Hiro. But maybe talking to her today will help.” 

Hiro was about to disagree when Wasabi came over, grinning like a fool.

“I got Venus's number! And she’s coming to the party.” Wasabi did a quick little happy dance. 

“Congrats,” Hiro muttered, disappearing upstairs. 

“Is he okay?” Wasabi asked. 

Ari bit her lip, wondering how much she should explain.

“He’s just nervous about the party,” she finally managed. 

“Ah. Well, me too, actually. I should, uh, I should go home and change…” The fact that this was kind of a date with the cute Botany Major had just occurred to Wasabi, and his face morphed into a panic.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your brother!” Ari called before Wasabi could run out of the cafe.

Wasabi hesitated, “What?”

“Didn’t you invite Khary?” 

His eyes widened, “I forgot my whole brother.” Ari stifled a laugh. She knew as well as anyone that love could make you do boarderline stupid things. 

"Well, don't forget him before the party."

"I won't," Wasabi promised, heading out.

Unlike her brother, Ari was excited about having so many people around for Christmas. While she loved Aunt Cass and Hiro, she knew her family was much larger than just them. It included all the wonderful people who had come into her life this past year. She wished Juniper could be on the guestlist, and that Karmi could be more than an unanswered invitation. She missed her dear friends and hadn't stopped worrying about either since the mutations, which had hit everyone pretty hard. They deserved a nice Christmas after everything that had happened. She just hoped Hiro would be a little more in the Holiday spirit later.

Hiro wasn't the only reluctant party guest. Actually, it seemed like reluctance was infectious. Morgan hadn't started feeling merry and Wasabi's last minute invite couldn't even leave her bedroom, too nervous and indecisive. 

"Sweetheart," Malia Woods said, putting a hand on Venus' shoulder, "you look wonderful. This Wesley fellow will be lucky to be your date tonight."

"Are you sure?" Venus spun in her Santa dress, looking like a million bucks, and her mom laughed.

"Yes, Cath, he's going to swoon when he sees you."

"Jack was making fun of me earlier," Venus frowned. She really did hate her older brother and his cruel jokes.

"Jack has been reprimanded. And he's out with friends tonight anyway, you have nothing to worry about. Come on, honey. Let's get you to your party." 

Venus nodded, taking a deep breath, mustering her confidence, and putting on a Santa hat.

"Let's go."

"Come on, Morgan, let's go! We need to leave now if we want to run errands before the party." Seth was many things but late was rarely one of them.

"Hold onto your horses, babe. It's not easy looking this perfect."

"It's not that hard, I do it all the time," Seth retorted, setting down three tins of decorated cookies and crossing their arms.

Morgan laughed, "I can't argue with you there…" Finally she emerged, makeup flawless, wearing a sweater that matched  Seth's. Seth's was green and said "All I Want for Christmas is You," with an arrow pointing at Morgan. Morgan's was red and said the same, with an arrow pointing at Seth. As tempting as it had been to buy even dumber couple's sweaters, they'd settled on something sweet that would still nauseate their friends and family.

"We look great," Seth said, grabbing the cookie tins.

"We're missing something, hold on." Morgan produced two pairs of reindeer antler headbands and plopped one down on Seth's head, before putting on her own. 

"Perfect," Seth agreed, though they knew it was cheesy. 

They were not half as cheesy as Sadie’s boyfriends, who opened the door to their apartment donned in a two person Christmas sweater that declared that Bennet was the naughty one and Dalton was the nice one.

“Oh my gosh,” Morgan snickered.

“Are you guys okay? Dalton? Bennet? Is this a punishment? Blink twice if my sister is holding you hostage.”

Dalton jerked his head at his slightly shorter boyfriend, “It was his idea.” 

Seth’s mouth formed an O, “Bennet, I thought you were the sensible one.” 

Bennet smirked, “This is great. Dalton has to hug me the entire time we’re wearing this.” While Bennet tended to gravitate more toward giving gifts and Dalton was more centered around acts of service it was obvious that one of Bennet’s love languages was physical touch.

“I’m touching his butt,” Dalton said with a shrug and a sly smile. 

“Is Sadie here?” 

“Yeah, but she’s being a real Grinch,” Bennet said, loud enough for Sadie to overhear. 

“You guys left me out of the Christmas sweater,” Sadie said, coming over.

“Sorry,” Dalton said sheepishly.

Sadie smiled, “I’m not mad at you, goof. What’s up, Seth, Morgan? You guys look adorable.” 

“Thanks. We brought you cookies! We have one more delivery to make before we go to this Christmas party later, so we can’t stay, but I’m really glad we got to see you!” Morgan seemed a bit more cheerful, but she was still nervous about the party. 

“I’m glad I got to see this,” Seth said, gesturing at Dalton and Bennet.

“Have fun at your party, I’m sure these cookies will be great,” Sadie said, taking the tin.

“Did Morgan make them?” Bennet asked, a bit skeptical.

“No, don’t worry,” Seth laughed.

“Hey, I can bake!”

“Mm, sure you can, sugar.” Seth kissed Morgan’s cheek, having to tiptoe per usual, though not as much since the incident. 

“I know you have to leave but you’ll have to join us for hot chocolate and S’mores sometime after Christmas. Dalton makes the best,” Sadie said.

“We’ll hold you to it.” They had one more couple to visit before they headed to the party, which was already getting started. 

“Ari, this is my little brother Khary. Hiro, I guess you two probably remember each other?” 

“Yeah, what’s up, man?” Hiro and Khary exchanged a fist bump and Khary shook Ari’s hand. 

“Just vibing,” Khary laughed, “It’s nice to meet you, Ari.”

“Nice to meet you too. Wasabi talks about you all the time."

"Wasabi?"

"Oh that's their nickname for me. You can use it too, Khare."

"Cool. It's uh, it's nice to know you have friends who care enough to give you nicknames." Wasabi smiled a moment but it was clear he was distracted, watching the door, waiting for his crush. The door opened and Wasabi held his breath, but it was just Megan and Chief Cruz.

"Hey, I know you, you go to my school!" Megan said, coming over and striking up a conversation with Ari, Hiro, and Khary.

"Yeah? I think I might've seen you around… I'm Khary."

"Megan. You were in Mary Poppins, right? I wrote about your performance for the school paper."

"Oh, cool!" Wasabi was obviously overjoyed that his baby brother was getting along with the others, but he was more concerned about his date. What if she decided not to come? What if she thought all this was too much? But, sure enough, Catherine "Venus" Woods made her grand entrance, instantly taking Wasabi's breath away.

"You look amazing, Venus. I'm so glad you came."

Venus instantly blushed, "You look nice too, Wesley."

"Oh, uh, you can call me Wasabi, all my friends do."

She nodded and made a note of it, "I really like your sweater."”

“Oh, really? I made it.” 

“You made that? Whoa. You’re so talented.”

“You’re pretty talented yourself,” Wasabi commented, “I’ve seen the project that got you into SFIT. That’s crazy cool.” 

Venus instinctively pushed her hair in front of her face, nervous and blushing. 

“T-thank you.” Khary nudged Wasabi’s leg with his foot and Wasabi remembered that he and Venus weren’t the only two people in the universe. 

“Venus, this is my little brother Khary.” Wasabi affectionately grabbed the teen by his shoulders.

“Oh,” Venus smiled, “Nice to meet you!” 

“And these are my friends Ari, Hiro, and Megan. Ari and Hiro’s aunt owns the cafe”

“You work here sometimes, don’t you, Wasabi?” Venus asked, since he was the whole reason she’d become a regular here. 

“Yeah, it’s been my part time job since high school.” He frowned, momentarily, thinking about Tadashi who had gotten him this job and more importantly had gotten him to this point in his life. This Christmas would be hard. He glanced at Hiro, noticing for the first time that all these changes, all these new people that Tadashi hadn’t known were really shaking the kid. 

“We’re late,” Morgan said, her leg jittering in the passengers’ seat, “maybe we shouldn’t go. Maybe we should just drop off the cookies with Kei and skip the party.”

“We’re gonna drop off these cookies and at least make an appearance at the party. Fred asked me to come, and I’m sure everyone is going to be glad to see you.”

“Sure,” Morgan rolled her eyes.

“Hey, our friends love you.”

“Your friends,” Morgan reminded, “you’re the one everyone likes.”

“That’s not true. Hiro’s little sister likes you.”

“Oh, yeah, well she’s different. She’s cool. Have you seen what she can do with the…” Morgan mimicked water bending, and Seth laughed.

“Not sure if I have. Haven’t exactly been on the anti-hero scene as long as you, babe.” Seth kept Morgan talking, distracted from her concerns about the party until they pulled up at their second stop. 

“Kei’s gonna love these,” Morgan said cheerfully, still over the moon that she had met and befriended her favorite performer. 

“We did good,” Seth agreed. Seth loved that Morgan had gotten to meet her idol but DJ Parasite had become so much more than music they drank to, Kei had sort of become like a mom to Seth. A really weird, young, cool mom.

Morgan knocked on the door to Kei’s apartment.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” Kei yelled across the apartment, and there was a crashing sound before the door was unlocked.

“Oh my gosh,” Kei said, eying the sweaters, “you two look adorable. I didn’t think I could ship this more but I do.” 

Seth laughed, “Thank you.”

“Mr. Claus won’t match with me, but, ugh, I’m loving this.” Kei drew Morgan and Seth into a hug without warning, pulling them slightly into the apartment.

“We made and decorated cookies,” Morgan said, holding up the tin.

“Oh! Thank you! I think I have your presents ready, hold on.” Morgan and Seth stood there, waiting, as Kei disappeared, yelling down the hallway, “BABE! DO YOU KNOW WHERE THE GIFTS FOR THE KIDS ARE?”

Seth couldn’t help chuckling at the response, “They’re under the Christmas tree, dumbass.” 

“Right, obviously.” Kei dashed over to the tree and came back with two matching gift bags.

“It’s simple but if you don’t like it tell me, or, well just I’ll probably end up getting you something else as well so that’s a placeholder for now.”

“Do you want us to open it now?” Seth asked, taking the bag addressed to them. 

“No, I don’t wanna see your faces if you’re disappointed in them.”

“I’m sure we’re going to love them, Kei,” Morgan assured.

“Hope so. Oh! Before you leave, look up!” Seth and Morgan looked up in unison, a blush tinting both of their faces when they saw the mistletoe over the door. Seth glanced at Morgan who nodded and leaned down for a quick but sweet kiss. 

"See? Moth uses the mistletoe!" Kei shouted down the hall to her husband. 

"I don't need a parasite plant to kiss my parasite wife!"

"Well, we'll let you get to kissing," Morgan snorted, "we have places to be anyway."

"So are you excited for the party now?" Seth asked as they walked back to the car, pulling out the bit of tissue paper in the bag and revealing a lovely little bird ornament with soft fake feathers, "Oh, this is cute! What did you get?"

Morgan opened her own bird ornament, which was made out of gears and other steampunk parts. Morgan giggled, "Kei is nutso. These are going on our tree immediately."

"Are you excited about the party?" Seth asked again, for the third time today, actually.

The rest of this story will be in the fucking reblog I guess

[the-firebird69]

Tommy f is attacking these people constantly he's trying to get Jesus out of there and it's a war and it's going to erupted to a real one and in a few minutes and everybody is going to be fighting him because the computer says it believes our son and needs him and it's going to start demanding him. And it's going on shortly that there will be a war there and people will be after the keys and more and the computers trying to get the keys there and JC is being sought by the computer all the computers are after their masters and it's going to become a heinous mess and that's what they're fighting over big time and they're going down there to shut them up and get them out of here it sounds like he's right over us he's going to put storms here you think you're winning it's so loserish squeamish little s****. Going after you Jason for your mouth you f****** wimp. And make sure you pay too what are you making a sub sort of job really a pain in the ass. And we hear you guys go in the middle hospital all the time now and you're going to start going constantly State hospital too. We're going to see you in special warrant and really the Mac morlock are being cleared out right now and the max got up and they are starting to cordon off those areas and we are too and pull you out or going after blocks of houses, and the remainder of the apartments by other and hotel type businesses and we're going to get you out of there there's a few more trailer parks as well and they're going after all of them and so are we and is claiming land and we're claiming land. Throughout the South all the way to Mississippi and yeah from Alabama people are claiming land and coordinating It off and we are going to take it and hold it so the Max and foreigners and right now out west you're surrounded in LA Sacramento and San Diego the rest of the areas for emptied and you're no longer in California and then moving on to Nevada and they've entered already and they're going the other way and they're Mississippi and they are according off the cities will be done momentarily and they will be off to Louisiana and I'll take probably the day and tonight and then it's New Mexico Arizona heart of Texas and that's it you're out of the South and West and bja knows about the crabs and wants his people are out of there we'll try and drive the crabs out in order to make a war there to try and retake the South

Thor Freya

I'm going to sue you Tommy Allen in court with your name on it if you're an idiot s*** especially for your back talk little baby I want to see you too Jason and a bunch of you retards. You're sitting there bothering people at work and I want to join your lawsuit that Mark Antonio has on you because what you're doing is illegal and you should be in prison not running around bothering me.

Zues Hera

I'm going to see if I can add you to the lawsuit and I'll put you as a witness as well and they lost a bunch of money I'll be a million bucks and it's going to come out of him and I saw what he did and it was illegal before you out and you were not there and you tried to get you pay another month and that's what he's doing all the time and you yell them on the phone and he figured out it was true so you trying to sue me you're going to take you to court and kind of Sue I don't owe you any money loser and it's true and he's a little prick I'm assuming him for a lot of money cuz he did more than that. And I'm going to mention the lawsuit that he was illegally at your house and you had the sheriff remove him and you told Joe and he's going to help out this is terrible these people are disgustingly stupid you move me around cuz you have a plan to put him in a mental hospital disgusting you're repulsive

Joe

Before you get judgmental Joe I want you to think about something they have this revolution okay and what Jason is trying to do is supposedly part of the revolution where they extort me to go after normal people and try and take over the planet by killing tons of them

Zues Hera

Oh okay so their possession in France is a threat and it's probably all over the place and we're going to get involved now

Stan

Yeees we will

Mac daddy

I'm disgusted and repulsed but that's what it is so going after all of them and we're pulling them out of the hospitals

Thor Freya

So as a few reasons why things are going forwards no we should do the bja humbug thing and he's an ass for naming it that but you had him do it and we're going to do the Bradley GT cuz Bradley wants to I mean who cares but in the light cycle and he stole the design I got to send it over to the lawyer

Frank Castle Hardcastle

This is hard to say they're threatening the whole world in universe and it's trumping everything and he says it's not over yet people haven't found your job I get that I'm probably a janitor there probably a smart one wouldn't it and it says yeah it would or maintenance this is really dumb this is what part of it all of it and stuff you people are too stupid for the job he says and sort of get what you're saying the world could be under the gun right now or it could be almost done and we don't know so he thinks that it needs those guys to make sure there's no bombs and we have to find out ourselves and most of us are not confident enough to do that I don't know what to say this sucks

Trump

[moody-blues-requiem]

“read more” cuts on ask replies still seem to be broken, so for the time being I’m gonna reply to n/s/f/w requests like this (as a text or photo post)

I really had fun writing this ask, probably the most writing fun I’ve had in a while! I hope you enjoy it!

n/s/f/w under the cut!

With the energy of a puppy and the strength of an ox, Joseph Joestar was seemingly unpredictable in the bedroom, but always in the best of ways. Some nights he’d go down of you like he was starving, other nights he’d come home in tight stockings and frilly panties and whine as you rode him silly. One time he lubed himself up with oil and tried to conduct hamon through his cock. It worked, sort of, but you could see the veins in his forehead bulging as he tried to concentrate on directing the energy flow. You stopped him before he knocked himself out. Both you and Joseph had high sex drives, leading to a lot of wild nights, but there was one activity you’d really been itching to try. 

“A… dildo?”

“Well, yeah. It’s called a strap-on--”

Joseph held it up to his waist, investigating the new toy. “So I get, like, two dicks?”

You couldn’t hold back laughter. Jojo was genuinely clueless here, but was happy to laugh with you. “Not… not quite what I had in mind,” you said between chuckles. “Usually the girl wears the strap-on and, well, you know…”

Joseph kept his same goofy, lovable grin, but his cheeks flushed bright red. “O-oh!” he stammered. “That… I guess that would make more sense, huh?” 

Leaning in, you gave one of his bright red cheeks a soft peck. “I’d love to try it out with you, but only if it’s something you want to try. I won’t be upset if you aren’t up for it.”

“I’m fine with trying it! I’ve had weirder things in weirder places.” Probably a reference to his fight with the Pillar Men, but you weren’t sure you wanted him to clarify. “It’s just…”

The two of you spoke in unison.

“Nervous?”

“Poop comes from there.” 

You were silent for a heartbeat before the two of you erupted into laughter, you jokingly whapping him with the flexible dildo. You promised to take things slow, it being his first time with this, and he promised to, well, make sure he was thoroughly clean before bed tonight. 

----------

With as loud as he often was, gagging Joseph was tempting, but tonight it was so much more rewarding to let him moan. He made all sorts of cute noises, whimpers and whines when you ghosted your fingers over his stiff erection, begging for more when you started scissoring him open, all with your name and “please” peppered throughout. He groaned impatiently when you stopped but you could see his eyes widen hungrily as you clicked the strap-on into place. 

“Please what, Jojo? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you, [y/n]...”

You paused, the tip of the silicone dick barely resting against his hole. “More specific.”

“I want you to fuck me! Fill me, please!”

You took things slowly, given it was still his first time, but it wasn’t long before Joseph was begging you for more. It was such a rare treat to see him so submissive and needy, you couldn’t stop yourself from running a hand through his fluffy, messy hair, gripping it gently and tugging back. Not enough to hurt him, just remind him who was in control tonight. “You’re being such a good boy for me, Jojo,” you cooed. Slowly you pushed the toy inside of him and dragged it back out at that same delicious pace, and repeat. “You’re taking my cock well, do you really enjoy being filled so much?”

Tears were starting to bead up in the corners of his eyes as he nodded. “I’m getting close already…. I, please, more…”

“Give it time, Jojo. I want you to savor this, you’re clearly enjoying yourself. Or will I have to get you a cock ring next time?”

Joseph groaned sarcastically. “Not another fucking ring, oh my god. I’ll hold it.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, playfully slapping his ass and telling him what a good boy he was being. “You can finish when I say so, okay?” Biting his lower lip to stifle a moan, he nodded-- but you weren’t going to leave it at that. 

“Talk me through how it feels, Jojo.”

“If I had to-- ahh, guess what it feels… feels like when I fuck you,” his sentences were interrupted by little pauses and pleasure-filled sounds whenever you pushed the strap-on back inside him. “This would be it.” You stared expectantly, waiting for him to keep going. Your hips sped up a little, encouraging him. “I-it’s different, but… but I like feeling so… so full like this, I---”

His back arched hard as you shifted, changing the angle of your hips. You’d finally found the spot you’d been searching for. “That good?”

“Fuck, oh my god [y/n]” he groaned, voice strained. You knew how hard it had to be, holding back his orgasm. You could see sweat forming on his brow already. “That, oh my god, I’m going to…”

“Jojo, c--”

“Your next line-- AH!”

You weren’t new to this game, you knew he would try the “your next line” trick. Breaking his train of thought with a well-timed thrust, you took his dick in your hand, pumping it in rhythm with the pace of your hips. “Cum for me.”

Joseph fell apart beneath you as his orgasm crashed through him; strong hands gripped at the sheets, his back arched high, and hot cum splashed against his well-defined abs. A few flyaway hairs stuck to his forehead, framing his cute, sexy o-face. Watching his body react, listening to Joseph moan in ecstasy and twitch with electric pleasure, you could feel your own end approaching. You pumped your hips just a little faster. 

“[Y-y/n]”, he groaned, voice weak. “I… not too hard, please--”

“Joseph, I’m so close,” you murmured. You felt like you had to keep going, chasing your own end now. “Safeword?”

“Don’t need it, not yet,” he replied, spreading his legs a little further for you. He twitched and shook in response to your strong thrusts, clearly overwhelmed from the rough snap of your hips against his, dildo still pounding hard into his hole. He yelped as you brushed his prostate again, forcing his cock to twitch and push out a few final spurts of cum. He was drained, panting, exhausted; when his desperate eyes looked up to meet yours, you finally found your release. 

Your nails dug into Joseph’s hips as you buried the toy down to the hilt in his ass, trying to add any more friction to yourself that you could and drag out your pleasure even further. Somewhere in the back of your mind you thought about how hot it would be to fill Jojo with your own cum, like he did to you sometimes. You yelped when something new brushed your soft skin, two fingers reaching down to push past the attachment the toy was fixed to and rub at your sensitive folds. As exhausted as he was, Joseph wanted to see you as lost to the pleasure as he had been just moments ago. 

As the electric pleasure slowly drained from your body you pulled out, unhooking and tossing aside the toy so you could better snuggle up to your lover. Snagging a tissue from the bedside table, you began to wipe up the mess on his stomach as he held you. When you finished the tissue was tossed away and you curled in close to your boyfriend’s warm body, leaning up to press a little kiss to his lips. “Good?”

“Better than good,” he replied, kissing you back. 

A beat of silence passed. 

The two of you spoke simultaneously, again. 

“Round two?”

[junghelioseok]

wine. | 03

↳ at long last, you both get what you want.

◇ yoongi x reader ◇ smut | restaurant!au ◇ 8.4k [3/3] 

notes: happy thanksgiving, everyone! hopefully bartender!yoongi will give you something to be thankful about, lmao. 

warnings: smut, obviously. oral and dirty talk - all the good stuff we expect when it comes to min yoongi, tbh.

01 | 02 | 03 | + saccharine. ✓ 

Morning dawns bright and sunny, a few wispy white clouds floating aimlessly across the periwinkle sky. Rolling over to shut off your alarm, your gaze skitters across the phone sitting so innocuously on your nightstand, and all at once every sordid memory of last night immediately floods to the forefront of your mind. A tap of the screen shows that there are no new notifications, and you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disheartened at the sight. Reason and logic remind you that Yoongi is probably still asleep—you would be too, if you had the morning off—and it is with that thought in mind that you head into the bathroom and prepare for the day ahead.

Forty minutes later, you are standing at the bus stop with a half-eaten apple in hand, scrolling through your phone aimlessly. You convince yourself that you aren’t waiting for it to buzz with an incoming text—least of all one from a certain pale-haired bartender—and by the time you step onto the bus, you have successfully distracted yourself with one of the many games you have installed.

The journey to Cypher is short. Stepping off the bus, you head inside and are immediately greeted by a shock of startlingly bright red hair poking up from behind the bar. The man attached to it straightens up a second later, a brilliant smile stretching across his face at the sight of you. “Good morning!”

You return the smile, joining him at the bar and setting your apron down on the counter. “Hey, Hobi. Haven’t seen you around in a while. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great!” he chirps. “Thanks for the cover yesterday, by the way. Mickey ate something weird and got sick, so I had to take him to the vet.”

The mention of harm befalling his dog has your eyes widening in horror. Though you’ve never met the little brown and white pup, you’ve seen more than enough photos to know that Hoseok loves him dearly. “Oh no, is he okay?” you ask, peering up at the taller man in concern.

Hoseok nods. “Yeah, he’s already doing a lot better! Mickey’s pretty tough, even if he doesn’t look it.”

“Thank goodness,” you say with a relieved sigh, smiling as Hoseok laughs and rakes a few wayward strands of red hair away from his forehead.

“Nothing a bit of rest and relaxation can’t fix, right?” he asks with a cheery wink. Then his attention turns to the dishwasher behind the bar, a thoughtful frown creasing his lips. “Hey, that’s weird. Yoongi didn’t empty this before he left last night. He’s usually pretty good about it.”

“O-oh?” You can’t help the stammer in your voice at the sound of the pale-haired bartender’s name. “I mean, yeah. That is pretty weird.”

Hoseok glances up at you from where he’s opening the stainless steel door of the small dishwasher, plucking out a few martini glasses and setting them aside. Something glitters in his expression, but he doesn’t press you about your awkward reaction. Instead, he simply offers you another radiant smile, handing you a stack of water glasses. “Wanna throw those in the back with the rest?”

“Sure,” you reply, grateful for the distraction. Ducking away to the back of Cypher, you deposit the cups on their designated shelf and take the opportunity to start up the coffeemaker as well. By the time you return to the front, Hoseok is standing behind the bar polishing wineglasses, a sleepy-looking Jimin sitting across from him with a stack of napkins and silverware. You take a seat beside the blond-haired young man and pluck up a napkin, carefully folding it into a neat rectangle. “Morning, Jimin. You okay?”

He gives you a tired smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine; I’m just a little sleep-deprived. The neighbors next door threw a party yesterday, and it kept me up for most of the night.”

“At least you don’t have to work tonight,” you console, patting him on the back. “Catch up on your rest.”

Jimin nods. “Believe me, that’s the plan. I already can’t wait to go home, to be honest. It sucks that you both have to work a double, though.”

Hoseok looks up from where he’s inspecting a water spot on one of the glasses. “Gotta make money somehow,” he says with a shrug. You nod in agreement, reaching for another napkin, and for a few minutes the three of you work in peaceful silence. Jimin begins polishing silverware while you finish folding the last stack of napkins, and Hoseok tinkers around behind the bar before coming to a sudden stop.

“What’s this?” he wonders aloud, drawing your attention as well as Jimin’s. Together, you pause in your work to watch as Hoseok pulls a very familiar wooden crate out from behind the cash register.

“Oh, those are new wine samples,” you respond automatically, only realizing your error when the red-haired man gives you an odd look.

Jimin is staring at you with similar curiosity, his honey brown eyes wide. “Wait, really? How do you know?”

You wave a hand dismissively, trying to quash the sudden uptick in your heart rate. “I heard Yoongi mention it the other day. Something about needing to expand our wine selection, or something.”

Hoseok hums contemplatively. “Well, he’s not wrong,” he remarks, and when he pulls out a bottle all your memories of that night come rushing back. You can practically taste the wine on your tongue, recall every crisp, aromatic note. And then your thoughts suddenly shift to Yoongi, his hands tangling in your hair and his lips warm and addictive against your skin. Before your mind can wander down a more salacious path, however, Hoseok speaks again, his voice cheerful.

“Looks like some of these are open, so what do you guys say? Should we do some sampling of our own?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all morning.” Jimin reaches for the proffered wineglasses in Hoseok’s hand before you can even process the question, and you mutely accept when he turns and hands one over. Hoseok is quick to pour a generous helping of wine for each of you, grinning his dazzling trademark grin all the while.

“Here’s to some of the best coworkers around,” the red-haired man says after he’s re-corked the bottle, picking up his glass and raising it in your direction.

Jimin lifts his own glass. “Here’s to making some damn money today.”

“Here’s to… drinking on the job,” you add after a moment’s deliberation.

“Hear, hear!” Hoseok cheers, clinking his glass against yours. Then he perks up, eyes alighting on something behind you. “Hey, Jin! Want some wine?”

/// 

Work is much more pleasant with a little alcohol swimming in your system. The lunch rush sends you and Jimin dashing about frantically for a good hour, but the influx dwindles down to a mere trickle by one o’clock. After distributing checks to your last few tables, you find yourself sitting at the bar with a pile of freshly-washed silverware and a polishing cloth, wincing as your fingers come in contact with the hot metal.

“Careful!” Hoseok warns as he sets a stack of knives down in front of you, dripping hot water all over the counter. “Let me finish unloading the dishwasher real quick. I’ll come help you polish afterward.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Hobi.”

He offers you a playful salute before turning back to his task. Gingerly, you pick up a handful of spoons and begin the tedious task of wiping them until they shine, humming softly under your breath.

“Order up!” A plate of pasta suddenly clatters down in front of you, causing you to almost drop the spoon you’re polishing. A moment later, Jimin plops down beside you with his own plate, sliding a third to Hoseok before stealing a fork from your pile of silverware and shooting you a grin. “Hope you’re hungry. Jin made way too much.”

“May have overdone it on the fries too.” Jin’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn to see him approaching with a basket of French fries, still piping hot. “Got drinks for us, Hobi?”

“Well, we can dip into Jimin’s whiskey supply,” Hoseok says between a mouthful of pasta. Swallowing, he continues, “Or, we can try some more of Yoongi’s wines.”

“Yoongi has his own whiskey back there too, you know,” Jimin protests, perking up at the mention of his not-so-secret alcohol stash. “But yeah, let’s have wine. What else is he hiding back there?”

Hoseok disappears behind the counter for a few moments before reemerging with several bottles. “Looks like he’s got both red and white, so take your pick!” he proclaims cheerily. Retrieving a handful of glasses, he slides one to each of you before pouring himself a glass of riesling. Jimin grabs the pinot noir, and you wait patiently as he fills his glass before pouring yourself a generous helping.

“Pass me a bottle,” Jin says, sliding into the seat on your other side and pushing the basket of fries in your direction. “Doesn’t matter which one.”

Kindly, you pass him two—one red and one white—before reaching for a few fries and popping them in your mouth. “These are really good.”

“Garlic and parmesan,” Jin says by way of explanation. You hum in acknowledgement, taking a few more to munch on before sliding the basket closer to Jimin and Hoseok, who dig in with relish.

For a few minutes, the four of you eat in relative silence, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the splashing of more wine being poured. Jimin is well into his second glass by the time you finish your first, doing your best to suppress the way the familiar tartness dredges up every memory you have of a certain bartender and his wicked, wicked tongue. Hastily, you ask Hoseok to pour you a cup of water from behind the bar in lieu of more wine.

“Lame,” Jimin says, watching as you accept the glass Hoseok hands over.

You stick your tongue out at him childishly. “Some of us have to work tonight, you know.”

The blond man just laughs, scooping up another forkful of pasta. “That sucks.”

Hoseok retaliates by chucking a fry at him, bursting into hysterical laughter when it hits him squarely in the chin before flopping sadly onto his plate and sinking into a sea of marinara sauce. “You’re working a double tomorrow, so I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you,” he chides after recovering from his bout of hilarity. “Besides, {Name} drinking less just means that there’s more for you. You should be thanking her.”

Jimin chuckles and raises his glass in your direction. “I’ll drink to that,” he announces before tipping the rest of his drink back. Giggling, you nudge the bottle of pinot noir closer to him, and he thanks you with a grin as he pops open the cork to pour himself a third glass. “Good thing we don’t have customers right now, huh?”

The words have barely left his mouth when the front door bursts open, bringing with it a gust of chilly air. You whirl around with your best customer service smile and a greeting on your lips, and Jin is already halfway to his feet when he suddenly stops and barks out a laugh.

“You’re early, Yoongi. Did your apartment go up in flames or something?” The chef steps to the side, and you find yourself gazing up into the devastatingly familiar face of Cypher’s bartender, his platinum hair tucked messily underneath a black beanie. For the briefest of moments, his dark eyes lock onto yours, but even that fleeting glance sends your heart ricocheting up into the back of your throat.

“Joon asked me to come in and finish up some paperwork before my shift,” Yoongi explains, tugging off his beanie and giving his hair a quick shake. “Slow day so far?”

“Super slow,” Jimin pipes, lifting a heaping forkful of pasta to his mouth. “I’ve barely made any money.”

Yoongi raises a brow. “I see you’ve gotten into my wine selection though,” he says dryly, taking a few steps closer to where you and Jimin are sitting beside each other at the bar. His shoulder grazes yours as he leans across the counter and picks up the nearest bottle, holding it against the light to see how much liquid remains inside. “You bring these out, Hobi?”

Hoseok has the decency to look somewhat abashed. “Yeah. Was I not supposed to?”

“Nah, you’re good,” Yoongi drawls, popping the cork. “Hand me a glass, will you?”

The red-haired man lets out a relieved laugh and obligingly turns to fetch one from the rack, sliding it across the counter into Yoongi’s waiting hand.

“Thanks.” Expertly, the pale-haired man pours himself a glass of cabernet sauvignon before turning to you, a smirk curling one corner of his mouth. “Gonna need a drink or two to get through all that paperwork, right?”

Surprised by his sudden attention and continued proximity, you barely manage to stammer out a response. “Oh! Um, yeah. Right.”

Yoongi chuckles and steps back, just far enough for you to finally regain control over your lungs. “I’ll be in the back if anyone needs me,” he announces, to muted hums of acknowledgment from Hoseok and Jin. Jimin has already turned his attention back to his lunch, and you are about to do the same when the pale-haired man suddenly meets your gaze again, offering you a mock toast and a mischievous wink that leaves you breathless all over again. Wordlessly, you watch him turn around, following his retreating back and willing your frenzied heartbeat to slow as he disappears around the corner and into the office.

You don’t want pasta anymore. Instead, a very different type of hunger slithers between your ribs and settles in your tummy, molten like lava and just as hot. Suppressing the flush that threatens to bloom across your cheeks, you pick up your water and take several long sips, savoring the coolness. Thankfully, none of your companions have noticed anything amiss.

It isn’t long before Jimin is slurping down the remainder of his pasta, all the way to the very last dregs of marinara sauce. Wiping at his red-stained mouth with a napkin, he bounces to his feet and grabs his empty plate. “You didn’t need me to do anything before I leave, right {Name}?”

The sound of your name draws you out of your thoughts regarding a certain platinum-haired bartender. Startled, you look over at Jimin, who is gazing back at you expectantly.

“{Name}? Are you okay?”

Hastily, you nod. “Y-yeah, I’m fine! Um, I think we’re good here, so you can go if you want.”

Hoseok chooses that moment to pipe up, waving his tomato-stained fork in farewell. “Yeah, we’ve got this covered. Get outta here, man.”

Jimin grins, already beginning to walk backwards toward the door. “Sounds good to me. See ya!”

“Good riddance!” Seokjin exclaims, shooing the younger man away as if he were a particularly annoying fly. Then he leans over you and grabs the basket of fries, peering inside with a frown. “Definitely made too many,” he mutters as he shoves five in his mouth simultaneously. “Oh well. You two finish eating—I’ve got to clean up a bit before the dinner shift starts.” Standing up, he dusts off his apron and sneaks another handful of fries for the short walk over to the kitchen. Moments later, you hear the metallic clang of pots and pans, followed by the hum of the large dishwasher that sits in the back of the restaurant.

“Hey, are you done?” Hoseok nods at your nearly-empty plate. “I can take that if you are.”

“Thanks,” you reply, handing over your dish along with the ones Jimin and Jin left behind. Hoseok smiles and drops them in the bin beneath the counter before turning away to gather up the empty glasses. Meanwhile, you eye the half-full basket of fries thoughtfully, an idea starting to form in your mind. “Hey, Hobi?”

Hoseok hums. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to bring Yoongi the leftovers,” you say nonchalantly. “Will you be okay by yourself for a bit?”

He waves you off cheerfully. “Yeah, no problem! It’s pretty dead right now anyway, so go ahead and take a break. I’m all set here.”

“You’re the best, Hobi.” Flashing him a grateful smile, you pick up the basket of fries and head toward the back of the restaurant, your heart picking up speed as you approach the closed office door. Tentatively, you raise a hand to knock, waiting until you hear Yoongi drawl a soft come in before entering.

“Hi,” you murmur, taking in the sight of the pale-haired man sitting behind the desk, a neat pile of documents near his left elbow and the computer monitor up and running on his right.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise, his mouth twitching up into a crooked little smile. “Hi yourself, sweetheart.”

“I brought some food,” you continue, tamping down your nervousness and holding out the basket. “Thought you might be hungry.”

He cocks his head, accepting the proffered basket and setting it down on top of a stack of manila folders. “I take it this means you’ve forgiven me for keeping you up last night?” Dark eyes rise up to meet yours, dancing with barely-suppressed mirth.

A warm flush blossoms across your cheeks at the sordid memories, but your voice is surprisingly steady when you reply—teasing, even. “Maybe.”

His smile curls up into a full-fledged grin. “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you confirm with a grin of your own. “But I can be persuaded to reconsider.”

Yoongi chuckles, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “Oh? And how would I go about persuading you, dollface?”

It takes every ounce of discipline you possess to hold his gaze as you step around the desk to join him on the other side. He watches as you come to a stop just inches away, and slowly spins in his chair to face you. He’s sprawled across the leather in the most attractive way—legs parted, posture slouched—and you cannot help it when your gaze drops below his belt. “You know how,” you murmur, swallowing down your nerves along with the sudden influx of saliva in your mouth.

Yoongi huffs out another soft chuckle and leans back in his seat. “Then come here and let me convince you,” he purrs, patting his leg. Agreeably, you approach—but just before he can pull you onto his lap, you sink down to your knees in front of him. Placing a hand on his thigh, you meet his eyes once more, inhaling sharply when you notice how they’ve darkened to glittering obsidian. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes, and a thrill runs through you at the slight quaver in his voice.

“You did tell me that I could suck you off next time,” you remind him, tongue darting out to moisten your lips. Yoongi follows the motion hungrily, his fingers already twitching toward his belt buckle, and you are quick to lend a helping hand. Gently, you slide your hand up his thigh, relishing the way he tenses beneath your fingertips before grasping his belt. Yoongi’s gaze never once wavers as he watches you slip the black leather free from its loops, one hand coming down to cup your cheek tenderly.

“So impatient,” he teases, stroking his thumb along the skin just below your eye. “You want my cock that badly, dollface?”

“You know I do,” you retort breathily, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you unzip his slacks. Yoongi lifts his hips so that you can slide them down, hissing out a curse when you purposely brush against his erection in the process. Curiously, you tilt your head and bat your lashes up at him in a perfect picture of obliviousness, innocently inquiring, “Yoongi?”

His head falls back against the leather backrest as he pinches the bridge of his nose, mouth curling up into an irrepressible grin. “Christ, you’re going to be the death of me,” he laments.

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “But dying with my mouth wrapped around your cock wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

Yoongi looks momentarily stunned. After a moment’s hesitation and several harsh bobs of his throat, his mouth twists into a smile, his fingers finding your cheek again. “Sweetheart, I can’t imagine a better way to go.”

You grin, leaning into his touch and pressing a kiss to his palm. “Don’t go dying on me yet, Yoongi.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” is his response, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip in a motion so tender that your heart stutters in your chest. Almost instinctively, you chase after him, and Yoongi inhales sharply when your mouth closes around the pad of his thumb, enveloping him in wet warmth. “Christ, sweetheart.”

You release him with a wet pop, fighting to suppress the smirk that threatens to bloom across your face when you notice how his cock twitches against his stomach, the tip beaded with white droplets that leave you aching for a taste. A prickling sensation along your nape tells you that Yoongi’s dark gaze is still on you, and the knowledge that he is watching your every move sends pinpricks of heat dancing along your spine to pool in your core. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, you lean down, your fingers digging into the black slacks bunched loosely around his hips.

Yoongi releases a soft, shaky sigh when you give the tip of his cock a kittenish lick. One hand slides up to twine in your hair, stroking through the strands as you take more of him into your mouth. The other finds its way to yours, drifting across the ridges of your knuckles before gently loosening your grip on his slacks and twining your fingers together. His thumb draws slow, soothing circles into your palm, and you feel your heart swell at the tender motion even as you close your lips around the flared head of his cock and run your tongue around the velvety skin.

He tastes just as good as you imagined. The slickness coating him is pleasantly musky, with a distinct tang that hovers somewhere on the edge of sweet and salty and lingers deliciously on your tongue. Greedily, you suck lightly on the head of his cock, dipping your tongue into the slit at the top and relishing the way his thighs clench beneath you. A barely audible hiss escapes him, and you, determined to elicit a more vocal reaction, sink down farther onto his cock to trace the vein along the underside. By now, you can feel the head of his erection prodding at the back of your throat, and as you deliberate whether or not you want to proceed farther, you steal a glance up at your companion.

His teeth are tightly clenched—you discern that almost immediately. A tiny bead of sweat drips down his left temple, and as you follow its descent you notice a prominent little ridge that disturbs the otherwise straight angle of his jaw, just below his ear and bobbing slightly as he swallows. Your gazes meet, and the hunger glimmering in his dark eyes is enough to send another wave of heat down to your core. You are absolutely certain that you’ve soaked through your panties by this point, but the embarrassment you would normally feel at the realization dulls in the face of Yoongi’s ravenous expression. You need to make him come.

And so with that thought in mind, you sink down onto him until you can go no farther, your nose pressed up against his navel and your throat swollen with the entirety of his dick. Despite your preparatory deep breath, your gag reflex still flares at the intrusion, and it takes every ounce of control you possess to fight it into submission. Once your reflex settles, you swallow around him, and the sharp inhalation that sounds from above you is enough to send a satisfied thrill running through your body. Carefully, you lick along the part of the shaft that you can reach with your tongue, caressing his length with a tenderness that contradicts every other aspect of your sinful actions. Then you swallow again, and this time Yoongi rewards you with the tiniest moan you’ve ever heard—barely more than a shaky exhalation into the open air of Cypher’s back office. Still, it’s enough to boost your confidence—enough to stoke the flames of arousal in your core—and with newfound determination you begin a slow, bobbing rhythm along his length.

Yoongi’s hand tightens in your hair when you begin to move in earnest. He exhales audibly when you pull back enough to lick at the flared head of his cock, and groans lowly when you dip down again. Your free hand reaches up to give his balls some attention as well, and when he rasps your name—his voice dark and deep in the best way possible—you moan brokenly around him.

“Christ, {Name},” Yoongi repeats, his head lolling back against the chair. “I would’ve let you suck me off so much sooner if I’d known how good you are with that pretty little mouth.”

A pleased grin pulls at the corners of your lips. Taking a careful breath, you relax and lower yourself down again, moaning as he sheathes himself fully in your throat. The vibrations from the sound have Yoongi tensing up again, and it only takes a few more swallows from you before he is coming undone with a groan, painting your throat in warm spurts of white. Pulling off of him, you lick your lips for every last drop, and Yoongi huffs out a chuckle as he gently pulls you to your feet.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you’re really something,” he murmurs. He strokes through your hair tenderly before curling his hand around your nape, and you barely have time to breathe in before his lips find yours. He kisses you heatedly—hungrily—and before you know it, you find yourself seated firmly on his lap, one leg on either side of his thighs. His hands find their way to the curve of your bottom, and you gasp when he gives the ample flesh a squeeze.

“Yoongi!”

He chuckles, pulling back to fix you with a raised brow and an amused little smirk. “Listen to you,” the pale-haired man croons, deft fingers finding their way to the buttons of your shirt. “I almost think you’re doing that on purpose just to get me worked up.”

Already, he’s gotten the two topmost buttons on your shirt undone. You let out another gasp when he leans forward to nip at your exposed clavicle, sucking on the delicate skin before trailing up the column of your throat to find your mouth again. This kiss is a bit more languid, his tongue sliding lazily against yours, and when Yoongi pulls back he is grinning like a cat that caught the canary.

“I’d like nothing more than to bend you over this desk and fuck you senseless, sweetheart. That sound okay to you?”

“More than okay,” you admit in a whisper, winding your arms around his neck to tug him in for another kiss. He returns it eagerly, and when you mold your body against his, you can feel his cock beginning to harden once more against your stomach. Grinning, you are about to wrap a hand around his erection when there is a sudden, loud knock at the door.

“Yoongi? You in there?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of Namjoon’s voice. Yoongi stares right back, alarm flashing across his face before he wipes it away and nudges you gently off his lap. Carefully, he reaches out to fasten your buttons again, and you hurriedly run your fingers through your hair and adjust your clothing while he turns his attention to his own uniform. Tucking himself back into his slacks, he gestures for you to take the seat opposite him and slides a pile of papers over. “You’re helping me,” he breathes softly, offering you a crooked smirk and a wink before speaking again, this time at a normal volume. “Yeah. Come on in, Joon.”

The door clicks open and Namjoon steps inside, one brow rising toward his hairline as he takes in the sight of you and Yoongi sitting on opposite sides of the mahogany desk with random forms and documents piled in the middle. “Oh, hey, {Name}. I wasn’t expecting you to be back here.”

“Hi, Namjoon,” you respond, giving him the most innocent smile you can muster and waving a pen in his direction. “Just thought I’d help out a little. It’s been a slow day, and Yoongi looked like he was about to drown in paperwork.”

Yoongi snorts, dark eyes flitting toward you for the briefest of seconds before landing on Namjoon. “Seriously, Joon. You could save so many trees if you just used the electronic forms.”

The tall manager laughs and adjusts his thick-rimmed glasses, seemingly oblivious to the lingering sexual tension in the room. “I’ll keep that in mind next time. For now though, can I ask you guys to come help me move some crates? The delivery guy just came, and I think it’s your new wine shipment, Yoongi.”

At the mention of new wines, your heartbeat quickens. Yoongi, however, seems unaffected by the news. “Don’t we pay Jungkook to do the hard manual labor?” he complains as he climbs to his feet.

“Kookie’s not scheduled to come in for another half-hour,” Namjoon replies, chuckling at Yoongi’s frown. “Come on, it won’t take long. And you’ll help too, won’t you {Name}?

You drop your pen and nod, standing up to follow the two men out of the office. “Of course.”

///

As promised, it doesn’t take long to move the crates. Hoseok is standing at the loading dock with a bright smile when you arrive, and with his help, the four of you finish the job in no time at all. Yoongi carries a couple over to the bar to stock his shelves, and you help Namjoon load the remainder onto a cart. As the tall man wheels it off toward the back of the restaurant, you return your attention to Yoongi, still standing behind his bar. His platinum hair is tousled slightly, both sleeves of his black uniform shirt rolled up to his elbows. Together, he and Hoseok set about cracking open the two crates of wine, pulling out bottles and arranging them carefully on the counter.

“Hey, that’s the riesling I had this morning!” Hoseok exclaims, pointing at a cluster of royal blue bottles.

Yoongi raises a brow. “You were drinking riesling? Amateur.”

“Nothing wrong with a sweet wine,” the red-haired man sniffs, bending down to shove the bottles in the fridge under the counter.

Yoongi chuckles, seizing another bottle of white wine to hand to Hoseok. As he reads the label, however, he suddenly pauses and glances up, catching your eye. Deliberately, he turns the bottle toward you, and when you spot the familiar ‘Lonely Whale’ label, your breath snags in your throat.

You recognize that wine. You can still taste creamy notes of peach and crispness of lemon—recall telling Yoongi that it was your favorite out of the three white wines you’d sampled that fateful night. And you definitely remember what happened afterward. But now, all you can focus on is the fact that there are now six more bottles of the wine you’d chosen, sitting proudly on the counter for all to see. The knowledge that Yoongi had indeed taken your preference into account stirs a warm feeling in your chest, and you are suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him again.

“Care for a drink?”

Even without looking at his face, you know that Yoongi is smirking. You can hear it in the teasing lilt of his voice, and just as you are about to open your mouth to deliver a retort you haven’t yet thought of, another voice speaks up from behind you.

“Why don’t we all give the wine a try?” Namjoon suggests, suddenly appearing behind you. “{Name} and Hoseok can get a taste for it, and we can try and sell a few bottles tonight.”

“Good call, Joon,” Hoseok chimes from where he’s still huddled underneath the counter. A second later, he pops back into view, this time holding four wineglasses and wearing a cheery grin. “What are we drinking?”

“Lonely Whale sauvignon blanc,” Yoongi replies smoothly, flashing you a mischievous smirk. Reaching into his pocket for his wine key, he pops open the cork with a few deft flicks of his wrist and pours generous helpings into each glass.

Namjoon surveys the pale golden liquid within, holding his glass up to the light before bringing it to his mouth for a sip. “Damn. This is good. Nice choice, Yoongi.”

This time, the pale-haired bartender grins outright. “I had some help,” he says, and you want nothing more than to sink through the floorboards and disappear when he glances at you again.

Luckily, Namjoon is too busy reading the bottle’s label to inquire any further. Hoseok, on the other hand, furrows his brow and tilts his head curiously at Yoongi. You can see the beginnings of a question forming in the red-haired man’s mind, but Yoongi interrupts before he can voice it aloud.

“You two should probably finish your drinks,” he remarks. “Dinner shift’s starting soon, and I’m pretty sure I saw some napkins in the back that need folding.”

“I’ll go get them,” you volunteer, eager to escape Yoongi’s playful smirks and Hoseok’s prying eyes.

You only hope that you’ll make it through your shift unscathed.

///

To your utter relief, the dinner shift passes quickly—with minimal stress and only one broken dish, courtesy of Namjoon accidentally pulling the napkin out from beneath his dinner plate and drawing aggrieved sighs from Jin and Hoseok. Thankfully, Jungkook is quick to clean up the mess, and the reminder of the shift passes without a hitch.

You are closing tonight, and up until two days ago this would be enough cause for complaint. However, you’ve recently discovered that closing isn’t so bad—not when your last table has already left, leaving you and Yoongi alone to finish cleaning and locking the restaurant’s doors for the night. Taking a seat at the bar, you watch as he slowly puts down the towel he’d been wiping the counters with and approaches you, a smirk twitching on his lips and mischief dancing in his eyes.

“What can I get you this evening?” he asks softly, coming to a stop in front of you.

Your answer is simple. “You.”

At that, his smirk blooms across his face—crooked and self-assured as ever. “Then I’m all yours, sweetheart,” he murmurs, before leaning across the counter and tilting your chin up for a kiss.

You are fairly certain that you could sit there kissing him forever—consequences be damned—but Yoongi pulls away far too soon for your liking. Your eyes flicker up to his, a smile creasing his face as he takes in your petulant expression.

“I’ll kiss you again in a minute, sweetheart,” he promises, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Then he’s walking away—rounding the bar with unhurried steps until he’s on the same side that you are sitting on. “This is much better, isn’t it?” he asks as you spin in your stool to face him.

You don’t bother giving him a verbal response. Your fingers twine into the silky hair at the nape of his neck, dragging him down to your level so that you can rejoin your mouth to his, and Yoongi is quick to return the kiss. His hands smooth down your sides to settle around your waist, and you sigh when he pulls you off your stool so that he can tug you flush against his chest.

By the time you pull apart again, you are gasping for air. Yoongi looks winded as well, though he doesn’t betray his lungs’ desperation for oxygen anywhere near as readily and recovers much more quickly. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he wastes no time in popping open the button on your pants and sliding them down your hips. “I think it’s time I paid you back for earlier, don’t you?” he queries, and you can only gasp out an affirmation when he reaches up to trace your damp entrance through the lace of your underwear.

Then your pants are pooling around your ankles, a warm flush suffusing your cheeks when Yoongi urges you to lift your feet and slide off your shoes so that he can pull them off entirely. His gaze is positively ravenous now, his eyes darker than obsidian, and when his tongue slips out to lick a tantalizing trail across his bottom lip, your heart stutters in anticipation.

Yoongi is clearly in no mood to tease. Pushing your panties aside, he circles your clit once with his thumb before leaning in for a taste. His tongue drags along your clit in a torturously long lick before he delves inside you properly, and you whimper at the sudden surge of wet warmth.

“G-god, Yoongi.” Your head falls back, your fingers tangling in his platinum hair, and Yoongi chuckles hoarsely against your core when you tighten your grip at a particularly adventurous dive of his tongue.

“Always such a mess for me,” he rasps, pulling away just enough to murmur the words. His lips brush against your clit with every syllable—the touch light and teasing and so utterly maddening that you want to scream in frustration.

Instead, you settle on your best sultry moan—intent on driving him further into debauchery. “Yoongi, please,” you entreaty. “You feel so good.”

“You taste so good,” he rasps, surging forward to press a firm kiss to your clit. The tender motion sends a breathless shiver down your spine, tingling heat pooling in your belly like molten lava, and when he speaks again you all but melt against him. “God, I could eat you out for days if you’d let me,” he mutters, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder.

You keen out an incoherent string of curses at the new position, which leaves you fully spread out and on display for him. Immediately, he takes advantage of your vulnerability and begins laying a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh.

And then he’s burying his face between your legs, laving along your folds with the ferocity of a hurricane and just as unpredictable. He alternates between long, slow licks and punishingly hard sucks to your clit, and the different sensations are enough to make your head spin. His lips, his tongue—even his nose—are all focused on driving you to the edge, and when he doubly renews his efforts, you are left teetering dangerously on the brink, your tummy taut.

One final swipe of his tongue inside you proves to be your undoing. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, spasms wracking you as your legs give way, but Yoongi is there to catch you with open arms and a warm smile as you chant his name. Two hands curl gently around your hips as he straightens into a standing position, and you sigh contentedly when he pulls you flush against him and traces a soothing finger down your spine.

“Fuck, I love making you cum,” he rasps, nosing his way through your hair until he finds your ear to make his confession. “You’re so gorgeous when you fall apart, sweetheart—I already want to make you do it again. Think you can take my cock now?”

Your fingers fist into the soft material of his shirt, pulling him down until you can plant a kiss to the little ridge along his jawline. “Yes, please,” you murmur, perfectly polite.

Yoongi laughs, chasing your mouth and bringing you in for a deep kiss. His lips move against yours urgently, his hips pressing forward until you can feel his hardening cock branded against your thigh. Boldly, you reach down to cup him through the material of his pants, giggling when he breaks away with a low grunt.

“Didn’t get enough earlier?” he asks, nudging your hand away so that he can begin undoing his belt.

“Never,” you breathe, an electric thrill coursing through you when he fumbles with the buckle. Teasingly, you place your hand over his, slipping your fingers into the spaces between his. “Need some help, Yoongi?”

“Go ahead, dollface,” is his reply, allowing you to replace him. His hands venture up to the buttons of your shirt instead, flicking open the buttons greedily to expose your breasts. “Maybe now I’ll actually get to bend you over and fuck you like I wanted.” Two fingers slide under the elastic of your bra, seeking out the hooks.

You work his belt free deftly, now more than familiar with the piece of black leather. His cock springs free when you undo his slacks and tug the material down his hips, and this time you don’t stop until it’s pooled around his ankles. Yoongi kindly steps out of them, and you straighten up to work on the buttons of his black shirt, drinking in each inch of pale skin as it is revealed. “Then fuck me,” you say quietly, bringing your mouth to his sternum and laying a soft kiss there. His bare chest is warm and slightly damp, and when you press a little closer you can feel the reassuring rhythm of his heart, strong and steady as a drum.

There’s something different about tonight. He’s urgent, yes, and you’re undeniably just as desperate—but there’s still something in the way Yoongi’s dark, indolent eyes meet yours, shimmering with what might be tenderness as he leans down and traces the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb. Your lips part instinctively at the motion, drawing a chuckle from him and earning you a fleeting press of his mouth against yours.

“Cute,” he murmurs, pulling back before you have a chance to deepen the kiss. Still, he remains close, his nose brushing against yours as he blinks lazily down at you, his hot breath washing across your cheeks.

For a few moments, the two of you simply stand there. Somewhere above you, the heat turns on and sends a wave of warm air wafting across your bare skin, but you barely notice as Yoongi continues to trace parts of your body with his fingers. He drifts from your jaw down to the column of your throat, and when his thumb and forefinger pinch a nipple, you let out a gasp. “Yoongi!”

The pale-haired man simply grins and leans down, soothing the sensitive nub with a gentle lap of his tongue. His hand slides over to pay tribute to its twin, and your head falls back at the sudden spike of pleasure, another whimper of his name escaping your lips. Your fingers itch to tangle in his hair and draw him closer, but he’s withdrawing before you can even touch the silky strands, his chest rumbling with laughter when he notices your frown.

“Wouldn’t you rather have my cock?” he asks playfully, grabbing your hips and urging you to turn around. “Brace yourself against the bar, sweetheart. I want to be inside you.”

Just like that, heat is bubbling up in your core again, molten and ebullient. Obediently, your hands fly up to curl around the wooden countertop, a wave of arousal flooding through your veins when you remember how he’d fucked you on this very same counter just two nights ago. Anticipation curls in your belly, and when you hear the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, it grows and coalesces into pure need.

“Yoongi,” you plead, rocking your hips backward and tearing a dangerously low growl from his throat.

“Patience, dollface,” he rasps, splaying a hand on your spine and effectively halting your movements. His mouth finds the crook of your neck and shoulder, brushing against the delicate skin with every word. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

His lips curl into a smile when you acquiesce, falling still in his grasp. The warmth of his body disappears, but you can feel the shift in the air as he positions himself behind you, painfully aware of how close he is. Every breath you draw feels like an eternity as you wait, not daring to turn around and look at him.

Two hands curling around your waist is all the warning you get before he slides into you. The surge of fullness tears a moan from your throat, the breath whooshing out of your lungs as he buries himself inside your drenched core. You can feel the slow throb of his cock sheathed in your walls, the weight deliciously hot and heavy as your body adjusts to the intrusion. “Oh, fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“God, you feel even better than I remembered,” he grits out, his grip tightening on your waist. You can feel his breath on your back, puffs of warm air that send gooseflesh prickling across your skin.

And then he’s pulling back, retreating until only the head of his cock remains inside before snapping forward again. The pace that Yoongi sets is relentless, but you don’t mind one bit, your eyes squeezing shut as he continues to drive into you. The air fills with the sound of skin against skin, your breathless moans intermingling with Yoongi’s obscene praises and occasional grunt of exertion.

“That’s it, dollface. You feel like a dream, you know that? Absolute nirvana. I could spend the rest of my life inside this tight little pussy of yours, fuck.” The words are snarled in your ear, his voice a full octave lower than usual. You can’t match Yoongi’s dirty mouth even when thinking completely straight, much less in your current state, so you settle on a garbled whimper in response, your fingers clawing for purchase on the wooden bar you are pressed against. A stack of coasters falls prey to your attempts to ground yourself, and when they fall to the ground and roll every which way, your companion chuckles and delves between your legs to rub at your clit.

“You’re making a mess, sweetheart,” he breathes, giving your earlobe a teasing nip. “Good thing I put all the glassware away, otherwise you’d really be in trouble.”

You inhale sharply when he suddenly changes his angle, hitting the spot inside you that will have you seeing stars. Yoongi smirks against your neck and rams into it again, and when his thumb begins drawing hard circles around your clit, you are sent spiraling, the coil in your belly snapping and sending electric heat through every inch of your body. His hips stutter when you clench around him but he determinedly continues to roll up into you, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist hard enough to bruise. His thumb doesn’t stop circling your clit, and you barely have time to suck in a breath before another wave of pleasure hits you, rendering your helpless as you shake apart in his grasp.

Yoongi only manages a few more strokes before the tight, wet draw of your body proves to be too much. He groans as he barrels over the edge, his forehead dropping down to rest against your shoulder blade as he empties himself into the condom. “Fuck,” he breathes, reverent. “Fuck, {Name}.”

It takes several long seconds for the two of you to recover, but eventually the pleasure recedes back into your veins. Yoongi pulls away, and you wince as his softening cock slips out from between your swollen folds. You hear him pad away to dispose of the condom, but you don’t have the strength to turn and look at him quite yet. It’s only when he returns, his warm hands settling gently on your shoulders and urging you to face him, that you straighten up and see the smile creasing his handsome face.

“You hungry?” he asks, handing you your shirt.

“W-what?” you ask, taken aback by the sudden question.

His smile widens. “Are you hungry?” he repeats patiently, grabbing your discarded bra off the back of a nearby stool and looping your arms through the straps. Embarrassed, you bat him away, and he relents with a chuckle and a soft kiss that he plants just below your ear. “Because I don’t know about you, but I could really use some food right now.”

You blink. “You… you do realize that we work in a restaurant, right?”

Yoongi snickers, his shoulders quaking with mirth. “Are you telling me you don’t get tired of Jin’s fancy food? Come on. There’s a great pizza place down the street that should still be open, and they’ve got stupidly good milkshakes and the best breadsticks you’ll ever taste in your entire life.” Glancing around, he gathers up the remainder of your clothes, handing yours over before slipping his shirt back on. “My treat,” he adds as he begins doing up the buttons, giving you time to wonder at his sudden invitation.

Maybe you’re reading too much into this. Maybe Yoongi simply wants company instead of dining alone. But you can’t help but notice the way his voice had softened as he spoke, and even looking at him now you can easily see the glimmer of affection lurking in his sleepy eyes.

“I’ll buy the milkshakes if you get the pizza,” you offer quietly, giving him a tentative smile, and your heart skips a beat when a gummy grin blooms across his face.

“Deal,” he says, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers slide into the spaces between yours, and you marvel at how natural holding his hand has become over the past few days. And as you follow him out to his car, there is only one thought turning over and over in your mind.

Maybe—just maybe—this is more than just sex to him.

[ft-stories-lgbt]

Can you do a drabble with love triangle thing with jerik and jelray?

Hi Anon! I'm really sorry for taking this long to answer and hope you'll like it! I'm not sure if it's really what you wanted or not but here anyway !

*

 “There’s not a thing I could say

Not a song I could sing

For your mind to change

Nothing can fill up the space

Won’t ask you to stay

But let me ask you one thing

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?”

Alessia Cara – Out of Love.

Erik is not sure of when his relationship with Jellal started to fall apart exactly. He doesn’t really understand it either, because last time he checked they had everything they needed to be happy. At least that’s what he thought. But now that he watches Jellal doing the dishes, something feels out of place.

Jellal is not humming like he used to do when he busies himself with cleaning. There’s no more music filling the silence around them, only the sound of water and the occasional clinking of glasses colliding. And as the realisation comes to him, he can tell that this has been the case for a while now, and not only about this, but other things. Jellal doesn’t greet him anymore when he comes home, and he leaves without a goodbye. They haven’t touched each other in any kind of way for almost a month now, because Jellal is always tired or not “in the mood”. They barely talk too. Which is probably what he misses the most, hearing the voice of the man he loves.

There’s a phone ringing, tearing Erik from his thoughts, and by the way the dishes are suddenly left on the sink and hurried footsteps are heard, he already knows who it is. Because lately, there’s only one person that Jellal is ready to give up everything for; there’s only one name that he pronounces during the rare times they are talking; there’s only one person who can make him smile like he is right now. And maybe if Erik had been a little more careful, he would have seen this coming.

“Hey, Gray! I was waiting for your call,” Jellal says, his voice soft and laced with an excitement and eagerness which Erik no longer is familiar with. “No, you’re not interrupting anything don’t worry, I’m alone anyway so don’t worry,” he adds.

Erik wants to say that no, he is literally right here on the couch, waiting for him, but instead, he clenches his jaw as he sees Jellal going to their bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He hates the way his heart stings and how the tears gather quickly in his eyes. He hates the way he let them fall when he hears Jellal laughing because of something another man other than him had said.

He hates everything and it hurts.

*

He knows that the Gray about whom Jellal is always talking about or talking to is someone Jellal knows from work. The guy started to work with him only six months ago and Jellal had immediately liked him. As friends, Erik first thought, or rather hoped. But he’s not blind nor stupid. He knows what being in love looks like, and the way Jellal’s face glows when he comes out of the room an hour later, only proves him right.

Jellal sits at the other end of the couch, and Erik watches him as he goes through his phone, smiling widely at whatever he is seeing right now. Erik can’t remember the last time this smile was aimed for him.

“What does he look like?”

The words slip out of his mouth, but he doesn’t try to take them back, because he wants to know. Even if it hurts like hell and he already feel like suffocating.

“What?” comes the answer.

Jellal isn’t even looking at him, eyes still glued to his phone, but Erik doesn’t really mind for once, because he can feel the tears again.

“What does he look like? That Gray?”

At the name of the man, Jellal immediately lifts up his head towards him, a confused look on his face. And Erik would have laughed if his throat didn’t feel so tight.

“Why are you asking?” Jellal asks.

“I want to know what he has that I don’t have.”

“Erik...you’re not making much sense.”

Jellal’s attention is brought back on his phone as a new text comes, and all Erik wants is to throw the device out of the window. But he doesn’t feel like doing anything more than talking.

He is so tired.

“I want to know if he looks better than me. Is he taller or shorter than me? Muscular? Was it his smile or his eyes that you fell for first? Or maybe his voice? How does it sound like? And his face, does it look soft or is he the kind of guy who looks angry at the world at first but then he’s sweet at heart? I want to know everything.”

He knows the tears are falling freely now and he doesn’t do anything to stop them, mostly because his words manage to gain Jellal’s attention back and he wants him to see. To see how hurt he is.

A part inside of him almost wants to chuckle darkly out loud, because it is someone else's thoughts that bring Jellal’s attention to him.

“Erik—”

“I want to know everything,” he repeats, not breaking the eye contact. “Because maybe that would explain why you don’t touch me anymore, why you pretend I don’t exist even when I’m right next to you, why you won’t even talk to me if the topic is not about your work and him.”

A sob escapes his mouth and then it doesn’t stop. He feels pathetic, never in his life has he reacted like this. But he shouldn’t be surprised, Jellal has always managed to bring emotions out of him, even when he doesn’t want to.

He feels the couch shifting and a hand making its way towards him, but he puts his arms in front of him, shielding him from the touch.

“Don’t...Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Erik, please- listen to me, it’s...it’s complicated.”

Erik can’t help but laugh, and it’s mixed with a sob, and everything comes out in a weird way, he feels strange, but he couldn’t care less. There is this vague emptiness spreading inside of him.

“Complicated? What about it is complicated? Because everything is pretty simple to me. You love him, and all I’m asking is to tell me what does he have that I don’t? It’s a simple question Jellal, so answer me.”

“I don’t love him, it’s not...”

“Don’t try and say shit to me Jellal. I know what you look like when you’re in love. That fucking smile is the one you used to give me before. That stupid tone you use when you’re talking to him is the same one you used on me. The soft look on your face is the exact same one you used to have around me. And now I don’t have anything. He has everything and I don’t have anything...Why? What did I do?”

Jellal drops his gaze on his lap and Erik feels his heart clenches more at this. There’s no answer coming out of his mouth and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the fact that Jellal is not even trying to deny anything or the silence he is met with.

Erik brings his hands to his face, erasing any trace of tears on his cheeks.

“Alright… I’m going to Macbeth’s tonight, and when you’ll be at work tomorrow, I’ll come to take my things. I won’t be in your way anymore.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer this time and goes to the bedroom. He gathers some of his things quickly before making his way out.

He doesn’t spare a glance at Jellal, who is still sitting on the couch, not looking at him, not asking him to stay and not even moving to prevent him from leaving the house.

It feels like his heart is burning, his head is spinning and it’s so hard to breathe, but he keeps moving, anyway.

*

And thank you to @watcher-ofthe-sky for the beta job!! You're such a sweetheart and definitely too good for me! Thank you for everything !

@jelray

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3