#cable cafe

[emaadsidiki]

༺♡ Geneva is just a hop over the border to France ♡༻ 

[roundtripjp]

今年全新盛大開幕，有著與鄉下氛圍相當反差的現代流行氣氛，更是一個有著咖啡、廚房、畫廊、活動公園，適合各種活動的複合式咖啡廳的「CABLE Cafe」!

[gremlingottoosilly]

Bimbo!Reader who's convinced Pushover!Konig is just a big teddy bear of a giant

He literally beat up a guy who tried to hit on you, and you were fussing over him, ruining that pretty shirt you helped him choose. Konig has no sense of style or tact, and he is very sensitive to criticism - but this is where your inner critic is shutting up, and you just fuss over him like he is just an overgrown baby.

Konig feels like your fussing over him is a bit embarrassing and generally a humiliating process, but he doesn't care - not as long as he can feel your hands on his face when you're wiping away the blood. You're adorable, fucking precious, and he can't wait to ruin you - just as soon as you'd stop being so dense about his hints...but you won't stop, and he finds himself in a weirdly wholesome relationship. It might be that you're just too dumb to see the signs, but he kinda likes your immunity to red flags - and besides, he is smart for the both of you...and likes being cared for too much. You drag him over to your favorite cafe, and he forces himself to stop thinking about fingering you under the table. You would probably allow him, especially while you're wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass and your cleavage is deeper than the knife wounds he used to inflict on his opponents, but he is far too nervous for this. Doesn't want to appear weird, even as you scoot closer to him and ask what he thinks about the necklace you bought with the money he gave you. He stares at the little space orb settled perfectly on your tits. He gulps. Konig probably needs to stop excusing himself in the middle of your dates to jerk off in a public bathroom, but the other possibility would be fucking you senselessly and making you even dumber than you already are...and it's not really an option. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but he allows you to sleep on his chest when you're too tired to go home after a movie night, and then he'd massage your tits for the rest of the evening. He keeps telling himself that he is not weird, but it's easier for him to snatch your panties and use them for masturbation than actually asking you to fuck him. The worst thing is - you trust him. You look at him with your precious shining eyes, and you act like he isn't a fucking war criminal who can snap your neck in a second. You give him too much power, trusting him so blindly - he knows he is going to snap one day. Like a rope slowly untangling from its threads. Like a metal cable that is going to escape your arms and cut through the soft skin of your palms.

[venmondiese]

This party is boring... wanna leave?

✧ masterlist ✧ taglist ✧

Summary: The party you are in is boring, so you ask a cute nerd guy to leave with you... that is, until you find out this is his birthday party.  Maybe a gift and a happy birthday will fix his sad evening.

✧Pairing: Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader

✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), overall sweet, michael being a total nerd virgin.

✧Word Count: 7.8k

✧AO3 link: here

note: so i saw this tweet in my 2020 ig histories and i said... michael gavey coded, and here we are. Here is the original tweet (wendy and joy from red velvet haha) and AGAIN this is infinite i swear i am allergic to write things under 5k

Michael couldn’t be more excited. He looks proudly at the poster indicating the date and place of his birthday. 

Nothing too glamorous, he rented one of the halls for hire in Oxford, the same one that they used for the Christmas party that (to no one’s surprise) he wasn’t invited. But he intended to do something fun about it, with the pool table and maybe some game algebraic beer pong. Who knows? It was his birthday, so he did the rules.

And he had a few friends he could invite, of course, renting a whole hall seems…. exaggerated, but truly, he couldn’t get a pool table in his room. He paid for this only for the pool table. Besides, he liked his Norman no mates friends. Friends if you could call them that; they were as friend to him as Oliver Quick once was. Just that this once… he won’t get too attached.

Well, ‘friends’ would actually be mates from the chess club, so they weren’t exactly popular these days. They barely had a girl in the group, so they weren’t great with girls either. Besides, the only other girl that he knew had agoraphobia so… it wasn’t happening. 

His mum made some little biscuits and cupcakes for his day, since she came to have a little celebration just for him and her in a near-by cafe at college. He could skip a few classes to be with his mum on his birthday, after all. 

The night started interestingly. The space was obviously much larger than what he thought it could be, so they hung around the couch and the pool table. He felt the victory as he won two chess matches and a pool game. Maybe it was birthday luck, since everything was coming up as great.

As they talked about which opening was their favourite, Michael heard a little knock. Once he approached the crystal door, he saw Oliver with Felix by his side, with some liquor bottles. 

Michael frowned a bit, as he was pretty sure he rented the room, he did it with a lot of anticipation and made sure no one else did before him. And it was crystal clear that he didn’t invite Oliver. Sure, in their friendship, he once or twice talked about doing something about his birthday, but he never invited Oliver. 

“Hey Mikey” Oliver says, with an shit eating grin, and Michael has to roll his eyes, by how smug and prideful he looked. An absolute jerk, if you asked him. Oliver didn’t even wear his glasses anymore, and was all parties and relevancy thanks to Felix. “Come on”

Before Michael could stop them, Oliver passes by his side, as Felix follows him patting Michael’s shoulder with a smirk (he could swear it was in a patronising way) and people follow from behind as Oliver looks in the room for the music speaker of the rented room.

Michael walked as the crowd quickly dispersed, and he grabbed the few gifts he received, and looked at his distressed mates. 

“Oliver you cannot be here, I rented the room” Michael screams as the room noise is quick to appear, so different from the silence of their small reunion. 

“I saw your pamphlet” Oliver says nonchalantly as he successfully manages to get the aux cable. “Birthday, eh?” He says mockingly

“I rented it! You have to get out” He says almost screaming, as the same way he did once they met, when he asked Oliver to say a sum for him to say.

“If you can get all of us out, mate… sure” Oliver shrugs, clearly not minding.

Michael looks defeated. Even if he stands there, angry, with the few gift bags on his hands, he feels embarrassed. He wanted to do one nice thing for himself, just once. It wasn’t as cheap to rent a hall for his birthday (he couldn’t do it anywhere else, truly, but he thinks that maybe the pub would have been nice even if few of his mates didn’t drink beer)

The room fills very quickly, sitting on the couches and talking as they get vases with something to drink, or beer cans.

“Michael” two of his friends approach him, and he looks at them “We could rescue the biscuits and the cake” They say proudly as they have it in his hands. 

He couldn’t fake to look at least smug, so he nods a bit numbly. “Yeah, sure.” He says a bit disoriented, looking around “The rest left?”

“This was not a party, we assumed…” 

“Not really our thing. Though Tim and Steve stayed to see if they could get any girls” 

Michael hums, and he doesn’t know what to exactly think, since he didn’t expect this. He was organised, he liked things to be as he already planned. It made him secure, and it was only logical. But this interruption made him anxious.

“I gotta save the pool balls” He says to his friends “They are going to fine me if I lose one of them” 

“What… we do with this?” His friend asks about the food.

“Uhm… take the biscuits with you…” Michael says. “And the cake… leave it on the library next to the pool table, and hide it… please” 

As he collects the pool balls, and walks upstairs to return them, he is very downhearted. He remembers the time that he invited his friends from school and only his cousins and his neighbour appeared to his party; very embarrassing and he hated celebrating his birthday with a party ever since. It was mostly his mum and granny, with his dog and cat. Nothing else, nothing too fancy.

He comes back for the cake as he tries to explain the situation to the people that manage the rented halls, there was not much for them to do, and he is suspicious that maybe Oliver or Felix paid them to keep the room. At least they promised not to charge if anything broke, and he was happy with that.

So, money wasted, party ruined and they couldn’t even sing to him happy birthday. 

He walks from between the crowd as he steals a beer. Fuck it, it wasn’t eve stealing since they ruined his party. He takes a break, since he feels really discouraged. He knows his mates are not really social butterflies, but more leaning to being socially anxious. He might need to apologise, and even face the idea that they might be annoyed at him, and maybe they’ll kick him out from the chess team.

He drinks his beer, looking at how Oliver and Felix hyped the whole thing out, people sitting on the pool table… He hopes his cake is intact. He looks at his beer can as he move it a little to stir the liquid (he totally doesn’t want to look miserable AND like an imbecile)

“Hey” A voice calls him as he drinks from his beer. He has to look up to the prettiest girl that has ever approached him, probably. You wear a pink pleated mini skirt, with a short baby pink hoodie that he could see your bright pink bra underneath. God, it was a lot of pink in one person. 

You look at him as he blinks a bit, and you look at him with an alluring smile as if waiting for him to say something, and once he doesn’t, you continue.

“This party is kinda boring” you start saying, with a soft smile and a bright in your eyes as you look at him, doing all your best efforts to flirt with him “Do you wanna leave together?”

Michael blinks a bit as he looks at you, trying to process the words in his head but he fails. “Uh… this is my birthday party” he admits embarrassed and awkwardly, as he looks away to not face the shame, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Oh” you say looking at him, your smile fading a bit, a bit worried about your comment. “Oh, I’m sorry” you say, grabbing his forearm. “Didn’t mean to be rude”

“No problem” he says, looking at how your hand rests on his forearm, almost caressing it slowly. 

“I suppose you didn’t invite all these people, did you? It was kind of a last minute call” you say looking at him, actually interested in him. “You seem pretty out of place for that”

“No… It was for me and my mates” 

“Ohh…” You say looking around, and you feel a bit of pity, which he doesn’t want nor needs. “Well, I would have brought a gift.” You say, trying to cheer him up “What is your name?”

Did they send you to make fun of him? Must be.

“Michael Gavey” He says, and he refuses to look at you, not to give you or them the satisfaction.

“Michael” you repeat, and you tell him your name too. “You are cute” you add.

He blushes and looks at you as if you just insulted him, his eyes open and he frowns a bit. He turns his head away in shame.

“Thank you” he murmurs, not sure of what to think. 

“So… your birthday is today.” You say tapping your thighs a bit. “How… randomly, I didn’t know”

“I like my birthday” He murmurs, drinking his beer hesitantly “Tis’ the day of Pi” 

“Day of Pie?” You ask frowning, your arms in your back as you lean in the wall. 

“Of Pi” he repeats “Like the pi from maths”

“Ohh, the circle thing” You say nodding and smiling, as you now understand. “Why is it the day of pi..? Ohh, it is because today it’s fourteen of March”

“Yeah” He says, as he looks at his shoes a bit embarrassed. He usually would think you were stupid, who the fuck confuses Pi with Pie? But you were the only one caring enough. 

“You seem to like maths, like your.. Your shirt” you say pointing it out at his maths pun, and he becomes aware that he has been, in fact, wearing that shirt all the time. 

Fuck, did he really fought with Oliver and with the rental people with a Math pun shirt? No wonder no one took him seriously.

“Ah, yeah…” He says awkwardly. You were very much engaging in the conversation, scooping on his interests little by little. 

“Do you know that I am flirting with you, right?” You say looking at him in the eyes and he looks from his shoes to your face, a bit surprised and panicked.

“Ehm… me? What for?”

“Because you are cute, like I said” you repeat “And it is your birthday”

“You don’t have to pity me because of that…”

“I am not pitying you. It is not why I like you. Come on, do you think I am pretty at least?” You ask as you change your body weight from one foot to the other while looking at him with the most alluring smile he has ever seen. 

God, the question sounds stupid, because you are not only pretty, but you are the hottest girl ever, looking at him as he freezes in place. Your eyes could trap him, as enchanting as they were, and your diminutive clothing was driving him insane. 

“Eh… yes” he murmurs. “Very pretty…”

He seems perplexed about the straightforwardness of this whole thing, and he is very confused. Where has this night taken him?

“I meant what I said. The party… is meh. You and I could leave together, if you want” 

He blinks, as his tongue wets his lips as he suddenly feels frozen in place. His eyes look at your expression as if you were joking, and he is unsure what to think.

“Uh… well, I have to get my cake, really, m-my mates saved it on the back of the library in hopes nobody would find it..:” He starts saying, not really sure why he is telling you this.

“Okay, we’ll search it” you say without any problem about it. “I could sing happy birthday to you and you can blow the candles”

That’s how you are now following him like a puppy, as he takes out the cake from behind some decorations that weren't hiding the cake very well, but it is mostly intact. 

You two walk together, to leave and Michael thinks that never felt so ashamed. He felt like doing the shame walk, as he passed through the people with a fucking birthday cake and a pretty girl following him.

“Let’s go to your dorm!” You tell him with a happy smile, your hand on his shoulder as you lean closer to tell him that as you both walk together.

He is confused how you’ll give him a gift if they weren’t in your room, but he accepts, as his dorm isn’t actually so far away from the rented halls, so he guides you upstairs, and upstairs, at the point where he hears you whine because of your heels.

You look a bit amazed as he enters his dorm, leaving the cake on his desk and moving to turn on the bedside lamp. He looks around, and you are taking off your heels and being just in socks. He blinks as he looks at you. Doing that means she’s comfortable here, he thinks. 

“Ah, eh…. Have a seat in the…” You sit on the edge of his bed, next to his pillows and he blinks. He wanted to say ‘in the desk chair’ but he guessed it was too late.

“Your bed is comfortable” You say smiling as you pat your right side for him to sit by your side. “Come, sit!”

Michael blinks. He dries his sweat palm by rubbing his hands on his thighs a bit awkwardly, as he takes a seat on the edge of his bed by your side. Your legs were tucked under your body, already comfortable, while he is rigid and tense, all awkwardness in comparison.

“And your mates are still at the party?” You ask looking at him, batting your eyelashes at him with a sweet smile as you lean your body weight to your hand, right beside him.

“Uhm… eh, well, they told me they left, so it was a bit rushed… I don’t know, I could call them if you.. Want to sing to me happy birthday and that…” he says a bit hesitant, and he is a bit unsure of his words when you chuckle a bit, if you knew a secret “B-Because we couldn’t… I mean we didn’t have the time for that, and my mum bought that cake because it is my favourite..:” he rambles as his cheeks are pink with embarrassment.

You were divine. In more than one way, you were the prettiest girl that he had ever talked to. And you were also the first girl in his dorm. And this close to him. And the first one to be interested in him. 

“Ah, of course… I bet it is tasty, it is sweet that your mum bought it for your party” You say smiling, as you look at him “Well, I don’t think we should call them here”

“Uh… Why not? We aren’t many, we are just seven, and with you we would be a pair number, so we could play a chess match since we are a pair. If you don’t know I could teach you” He offers. God, why did he accept this? Because you were pretty and all smiles with him, but he didn’t know what women like you liked…

“It’s not that, Mikey” you say softly, looking at him with an alluring smile, leaning slightly closer to him, which is dangerous, because it is the moment he has to decide if to look at your face or your tits. “It is because I wanna give you a gift”

Michael blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah… It would be awkward if they were here”

His mind is numb, and he looks at you a bit confused “... Because they already gave me a gift?”

You have to suppress a laugh, as you shake your head and look down a bit. He takes the opportunity to look at your tits briefly.

“No…” You say again, with that damn tone that he can’t decipher. “You are not really good at hints, are you?”

He stays silent, looking at you as he tries to get it. “Eh… no, but I am really good at maths…”

You chuckle a bit, as you look at his face with a look he (again) cannot decipher. 

“Of course you are” you say sitting slightly closer, and he stays still as he looks at you and your tits coming closer to him “Your birthday it is in the day of Pi” you made sure to say the last word correctly, emphasising on it, and he nods a bit. 

“Yeah…” he murmurs looking at you as he licks his lips, and his glasses slide ever so slightly on his nose as he has to look down at your face

“I wanna give you a gift…” you repeat, and it is now that he feels your hand slide to his thigh and closer to his crotch. And his breath freezes on his throat as he feels your hand move slowly to rub his dick from above his clothes, and the traitor practically gets hard instantly at something that isn't his own hand. 

Michael practically freezes at your touch, as your hand slowly rubs his jeans where his erection was forming. Your eyes look at him as you smile, god, you were so provocative it made his brain go off. He couldn't take his eyes out of your face as he opened his mouth to pant a bit, a bit unsure of if to stop this or make it keep going.  It is not like he doesn’t want to do… this, but a little part of him still thinks you are just mocking him and probably there were popular jerks waiting outside to make fun of him for falling for someone so out of his league. 

But you were so pretty, lookin at him with tender eyes. As he seems so hesitant about it all. It wasn’t like he didn’t want this, but he just… wasn’t sure what to do, because this was confusing all his thoughts. How could he even impress you? 

It is you who leans to capture his lips. On yours with a kiss, slow and calm, since he was so inexperienced. It was his first kiss, as a girl rubs his cock. He surely was dreaming. 

“Do you want it?”

He blinks confused, his lips briefly open and all flustered as your hands keep on hardening his cock. “Um… yes” He swallows hard as his eyes are closed due to how good (and strange) it feels. To have a girl doing this with him.

“You’ve done this before?” You ask looking at his eyes, and his glasses are sliding on his nose and he doesn’ even notice, and your hand pat his cock which makes him whimper a bit. 

“Eh… yes, but with myself. I mean, b-by myself, like with my hand, that is…”

You giggle at his naiveness, and you add “I meant if you have ever had sex”

Michael looks at you surprised, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose again. You were so direct, and this was unlike anything that had happened in his life. You confused him, with your plays and teases, he was more simple, and more straightforward. “No…” He whispers in reply, breathing a little heavily now as you squeeze him through his pants. 

Your smile is confusing, since he doesn’t know what it means. Well, he doesn’t get the clue to. Most things you do anyways. “It is your birthday” you repeat “My treat, I’ll make you feel so good, Mikey”

He looks down at his pants as you unbuckle his belt. There was something about you, so seductive and sensual as you did all torturously slow. You weren’t rushed, and even did it for his sake, as he looked so frozen by it all. 

You turn your head to look up to him as you also zip down his pants. He tried to think about anything else, because he felt on fire.

“Can you take these off?” You ask him kindly, and he looks. Briefly confused. “I really wanna suck you off”

Oh god. He almost cums on his pants. Oh god.  He repeats on his mind as he moves a bit to take off his pants, at least to his knees. Oh god, oh god. His mind tried to remain sane, he tried to think about some maths, the comfort of simple logic tries to centre himself. 

You look pleasantly surprised by his size, and you hummed in delight and he saw how you bite your lower lip. His cocks spring free, fully hard and the precum leaking out from the tip. He looked nervously at you, as his cock practically begged your attention and affections, and he could feel a turmoil form on his stomach as he pleaded with his eyes for you to do something about it. 

“So big…” you praise him with a smirk, and he looks away in shame as he blushes. It was a good thing, he thinks, but he cannot help but feel hesitant.

You gently grab the base as your left hand rests on his left thigh, helping you as you lean down to capture the tip on your mouth, and he leans slightly back as if trying to squirm away. He looks at you, overwhelmed at the warm and moist sensation around his cock, ever so slightly, but so intense at the same time. He pants as if he just ran a marathon, looking down at you as his balls tighten and feel so ready to cum. But he forces himself not to.

“Oh… A-Ah, fuck…” he says as you take his dick out of your mouth to lick it, from his balls to his tip. God, no one really prepares you to know how easy it is to cum when a girl sucks you off.

He tries to think of equations, some diagrams or anything, anything to not cum so fast. You have his cock again in your mouth, sucking on his tip and your tongue moves to tease him as well. He was going insane.

He looks at you, with your bright eyes full of delight and mischief looking up back at him, as his cock was deeper and deeper on your throat, making its way through your warm mouth. 

And you didn’t seem to mind how the drool was spilling out from your mouth, wettening your chin and how you gagged slightly the more deep you swallowed him. He was amazed, truly, looking down at you as you sucked him off. 

It was different from how he imagined. He thought that at his first time, he would lead the way, he would be confident (because he knew about porn and how these things worked) and he would be dominant enough. Yet now, he feels unsure, trembling as his balls shaked in need to release, because you were amazing and so hot. 

Maybe he didn’t know a thing about this all. He thinks, as his shoulders tense from how good the head of his cock feels in your warm throat. It sends shivers on his spine and he has to whimper pathetically. 

“You are so perfect…, I swear” He mumbles without breath, whimpering pathetically. You would have giggled, because he didn’t need to swear, but he was cute to do so.

You move your hand to take the hair out of his face, and you grab his right hand, and he doesnt get at first what you mean, until you let his hand on your hair, it is when he understands that you want him to guide you and move his hips. 

His own hips hesitate at the beginning , strange at how he is supposed to move without looking ridiculous or being uncomfortable. Instead, he takes your hair carefully, with both hands as he leaves a deep breath out. 

His little whimpers are amazing, and so hot, you love to hear it. It was almost quiet, very low, but it was a delight to hear how he whimpers as his cock twitches in your mouth.

He moves your hair up and down on his body, fucking your face slowly. He didn’t want to be reckless, and when you needed to, he allowed you to have air from time to time. 

His balls were on fire, and his dick was so hard and it felt so good as you deepthroated him that he was at the verge of cumming. 

“I’m… oh, I'm going to cum, m’sorry…” he whimpers, moving your head onto his cock more harshly, but still careful not to make a mess and make you choke on his cock. He would feel bad if he hurt you like that, especially when you do him a favour.

His hips hesitate as he starts cumming, and he releases your head because he guesses it could be overwhelming. But you do not back away, rather swallow all of his spending in your mouth, savouring it delighted as you looked up to him, and he opened his mouth in awe. 

You were his wettest dream come true.

What are the chances, the possibility that a pretty girl like you, just looked at him and decided to do this? To give him the best head ever? To help him lose his virginity, thinking he is worth the chance when you are out of his league? 

He is a man of mathematics and logic. And even being good at probability, he knew the chances were almost zero. Almost.

And you looked so brightly at him as you cleaned some of his cum dripping down from your chin and licking it, not to waste a bit. 

“It… it was good?”

“Yeah” you say without a breath, as you smile. “I love your dick, it is so… amazing” He can almost cum again when he sees you lick your lips.

“Oh.” He says a bit flustered, his mind almost numb from his orgasm. “T-Thank you…” 

It is your smile who makes him smile a bit, awkwardly and with his cheeks red. He cannot believe this is luck. He is dumb struck, looking at your lovely face with still red cheeks and a wide smile. And you just sucked him off.

He is guilty, and he looks down at your tits for a brief moment, but looks quickly at your face, as if ashamed of doing that. But you still have that alluring smile, looking at him. He still doesn’t get what it means, but he goes along with the flow. 

“You wanna see my tits?” You ask with a sweet tone, as if it was the normalest question ever. You have seen his eyes drop to your breasts and then to your face, it was cute.

Oh my god. He will likely cum immediately at the sight. He knows it, and his cheeks are red as he thinks of your question.

“Yeah, please…” He asks without breath, as he accommodates in bed trying for his cock not to give him away. 

“I would have worn something way cuter if I knew this was going to happen” You explain taking out your jacket, and to his no-surprise, you didn’t wear a shirt underneath, just the bright pink bra that poked out of your jacket. 

“You look beautiful” he murmurs looking at your still clothed breasts, and he then looks up to your face. “You… If this is your less fancy outfit, then god damn me” 

You giggle at his words, he surely was odd from all the guys you knew. Perhaps his lack of experience, perhaps his nerdy personality. You don’t know, but you find yourself wanting to do all filthy and kinky things with this nerdy man.

You take off your bra, with quickness, as he looks at you completely mesmerised by your nakedness in front of him. He blinks at your perky nipples completely to his sight, and his mind just goes off. He is pretty sure that if you asked him what 1 plus 1 was, he’d say a pair of fine tits.

“You can touch me, Mikey” you say with a teasing tone, that makes him look at your expression for a brief moment. “Like you can grope my tits and all…”

The boldness of her offer makes him salivate, he is sure, and the desire within him is just intense and he knows he has to. His left hand reaches out cautiously and grasps your right breast. 

Your soft sigh is enough for him to do it slightly more confidently, but still not too harsh. He doesn’t actually know how hard it hurts if someone gropes too aggressively, and so he prefers to be gentle with you, because you deserve all of it. 

“Here. Give me your other hand” You say, and before you can extend your hand to grab his, his right hand goes to your other breasts, as if he was waiting for it.

Your breath hitches before you giggle a bit, as he doesn’t understand you. His face is red, from embarrassment, from touching a girl, a very much real girl that desires him too, and from awkwardness in him.

“I meant, give me your hand” You say taking his right hand from your breast and he doesn’t wanna let go, but he does anyway. “I wanna… Mm. I wanna to show you something”

Again with coded words, he was unaware of its meaning. But he waited for you to tell him, as you looked at him with a smile as you waited for him to say it.

“Oh, uh…” Michael mutters as his brain finally took notice it was his turn to say something. “Eh… okay? Show me…” he says unsure what to say.

You guide his left hand down, under your skirt. He just noticed that you had not taken off your skirt yet, as he was still clothed and with his pants down. But he didn’t mind it so much as you pressed his hand against your clothed pussy. 

“You.. Y-You are really wet” he says slightly amazed, and you nod with a smile as he just leaves his hand there, a bit amazed as his fingers do the slightest move to spread the wetness on his fingers. You hum in delight as you feel how bold he might be becoming. 

“Yeah, I am” you nod to him with a smile, and he looks at you flustered, as he leaves an awkward chuckle. “And your cock is hard again”

He looked down at his dick, and in fact, he was getting hard again. He looked back at you, and he smiled a bit embarrassed. You were also smiling, and that was the only clue he got to know that you were having the time of your life.

“It’s because you are so hot…” he says in a weak attempt to justify himself. “and so pretty”

You laugh, as you kneel slightly to take off your skirt and kick it somewhere in his bedroom. You were only wearing your panties now, and he felt like a salivating dog wagging his tail at the sight. God he was pathetic.

He looked at you, and before he could try to do anything, you say.

“It will be better if you sit properly in the bed, not the edge. So you can lean back in the pillows”

He has no idea why he should lean back in the pillows, but again, he is not the one doing demands in this. In his eyes, you are doing him a favour, this was his wettest dream, and you surely got nothing from it.

He takes off his pants and he crawls to sit in the bed, his back against the pillows (he used at least three, he found it more comfortable) and so he watched at you with a smile, as you kneel up again, now to take off your panties.

“I swear that if i knew, I would have worn a prettier pair of underwear” you start teasingly, as you move your hands to the sides of your panties to take them off.

Oh god, he thinks once again, as the image of a naked woman is enough to send him into numbness again. He was just gaining confidence to take some part in this, but he was just so inexperienced, he had to decide on either cum desperately or trying to last longer, and he didn’t know that the last took all of his brain energy.

“Here” You say, grabbing his hand and leaving your panties in his hand. He looks at you, and you add “Another gift. You can keep it” 

He looks at you, slightly amazed by it. He holds your panties in his hand, and he can feel the wetness of it, knowing that you were (and are) so wet right now drives him insane. He looks at you and he blinks a bit surprised, and honestly, much more aroused. 

“Thank you..” he says as he appreciates this odd gift. He has no idea what use it may have apart from the sentimental one, but maybe it is like his own trophy? 

You get comfortable, still kneeling on the bed, you crawl to be atop of his lap. Each knee on the side of his thighs, and he has to look up to see you. Maybe his favourite part about this is how your tits are in front of his face. He loves it.

“Your hand” She asks, and when she extends her hand he is clever enough not to make the same mistake twice. He passes her his hand, and she guides it to her pussy once again.

Now he knows. Why men went to war for women. Why Troy was destroyed, for stealing one woman. Why men went insane for the touch of a woman. He gets it now. 

Your pussy drips wet as he touches it; bare and warm. He is surprised, in all honesty, as his fingers are rigidly moving forward and back. It is not rough; but it is rigid enough to let know his inexperience in the matter.

“I wanna make you feel good” He says looking at you, almost begging for you to teach him how. He wants to know the secrets that could have you squirm and moan crazily over him, as he was over you. 

“This is about you” You say, your hands moving to the edge of his shirt, to take it off from him. He helps you in it, and he leaves a breath as now both of you were naked in front of each other.

Your soft hand caresses his chest. He is no muscular guy; yet you caress him so tenderly that he has to look at you with that puppy look. He really wants to make you feel good.

“Tell me what to do.” He asks again, he looks pathetically needy to you; eager to make you cum on his fingers, and eager to learn how to please you.  His fingers linger hesitantly around your pussy, and he does his best guiding himself from little experience and instinct. 

You smirk as you bite your lower lip as you let a little whimper out. He was cute and hot, more than most guys you knew from before. Maybe getting with the nerd was a fantastic idea.

“I want you to fuck me” You say instead, smiling at him “I want your cock, not your fingers- for now. Besides, this is about you. You are the birthday boy”

As your hips lower on his lap, he takes off his fingers and looks at you sitting above his cock. You grind slightly as he opens his mouth agape slightly, the mere thought of fucking you has him all excited, and aroused.

“I do wanna.. Do that” Michael says with a longing smile, as you nod to him. The feeling of your pussy rubbing against his own dick. He can’t take it anymore, he longs for you too much. 

He is clumsy as he moves his hips, the head of his cock passing eagerly through your folds in search of your entrance, and he looks up at you as you moan at the feeling. He got something right. 

His puppy eyes catch your attention as his tip presses on your centre, and you look down at him a bit breathlessly. “You can’t cum so fast, Mikey. I want you to enjoy it” He nods when you tell him that, and he leaves a shaky breath at the feeling. 

“I… I’ll try…” He says looking at you, trying his best to hold back. But your body is too tempting for him. He is going to pass out, surely.

You move to search for something in your clothes, and you take a condom from somewhere. He isn’t too sure. He is looking at the ceiling waiting for you as he thinks on some hard equation from class, and he tries for the burning turmoil on his belly, full of lust and desire to calm down even a bit. He wants to have you moaning on his cock so hard, he will need strength.

Your movement is fluid when you put the condom on his length, and he is sure you have done this so many times. On other occasions, he’ll think something witty about it, but now he is rather intimidated. How is he supposed to compete with your experiences?

You move your hips slightly, as you start to sit down on his cock from one move. Slow and soft, he is sure you make sure it isn’t so intense for him, as your walls have a tight grip on his hard cock, and the feeling of finally being inside of a woman is incredibly intimate. His cock pulsates on your insides, and he has to look down, enjoying the sight of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

“Fuck…” You say breathlessly as you throw your head back, moaning in delight as you move your hips slightly.

“You’re so warm… and thigh..” he pants, his hands go to your hips as you ride him. 

“It feels nice?”

“More than that” He says looking up to you, and he whimpers as you move your hips. 

“I’ll let you get used to it.” You tell him softly “I think it could be a bit overwhelming, I guess”

“Yeah. A bit” he says with an awkward smile which makes you smile too, and you grab his cheeks as you lean a bit to kiss him softly. 

His enthusiasm is endearing, as he tries to passionately kiss you, but you are sticking with the slowness of it all. He whimpers a bit on your mouth as he can feel how your cunt tightens around him. 

Once you are apart, his glasses are again slowly sliding down on the bridge of his nose and you bite your lower lip as you hold a moan. God, what a hot nerd you are fucking.

“You are so amazing” He murmurs, looking up to you “And you feel so good…”

“Uh huh…” You hum as you whimper a bit, and so does he. 

“And I have… I have never done this before…” He mutters looking at where your pussy swallows his dick.

“I know” You say, giving him a peck. “But you make me so aroused, so hot…”

Michael blinks a bit confused, but he gains slight confidence in this. He nods at you and he lets his hands fall by the side of your legs, and he can only focus on the way that you ride him. You squeeze him, in all the way he can think of. Your cunt is squeezing his shaft. Your knees are squeezing his legs. All of your existence squeezes him, and he loves the feeling. 

He looks up at your face, you are moaning openly and you have your eyes closed as your hands rest on his biceps, helping you bounce on his cock. You look amazing. 

And your tits, God, your tits. Bouncing on his face as you ride him, all perky and perfect for him, and the sight of your tits make him leak more precum in the condom, as he tilts his hips slightly up so he gets deeper in the warmth of your cunt.

He stays looking at you, while his balls are tightening at how wet your pussy is. He is mesmerised by you, he cannot even find himself letting any sound out of his mouth. He is almost numb, looking at you as he makes you moan like this. 

He is making you moan desperately as you ride him. He is the one responsible to see how aroused he truly has you. You lean your body closer to his chest, moaning as you ride him, and he bites his lip desperate to cum. 

His own hips rut back to yours, thrusting clumsily as you sink down on his cock. Your pussy clenches around his cock, and he’s fully engrossed in the sensation.

Michael wants to cum so bad. He doesn’t think he has ever been in such a need to cum.It’s all his foggy mind can think of, cumming and you. And cumming in you, those two subjects interrelationate. 

“Tell me” He pleads, which makes you look at him again “Please, tell me how to make you cum”

His puppy eyes, how his glasses are slightly off on him, makes you moan almost on his face. 

“Your hand” You say, and he got the clue now. He is a quick learner, and instead of letting you hold his hand, he moves it down to your pussy. 

You moan at the feeling of his hesitant hand there, and he laughs a bit breathlessly, growing slightly bolder and he loves how desperate you seem. “Teach me”

“Fine, fine, wait..” You say stopping your movements, as reluctant you both may be to that.

You lean slightly back, your hand goes to grab his knee to help you not fall. He can see more of your pussy like that, and you sigh as if trying to think clearly.

“Here” You say, grabbing his wrist and moving it slightly up. He has no idea what you mean, but he is learning, so he follows your lead. “This is my clit, so you rub it… Not harshly, not too aggressive. It can be intense, but… you have to do it gently. Firm, but gently” 

He has no idea how to do both, but he’ll try. Before he can start, you grab his wrist again, and he is confused. What else is there that you take so long to say?!

You take his hand up, and your mouth is quick to engulf his index and middle finger inside, wettening them  with your own saliva before letting them go; not without leaving a provocative lick beforehand. 

“Now” You say with a slight smile “Just gently.” You repeat, and he nods.

He is so going to cum just from seeing you lick his fingers so lustfully. 

Michael tries his best, he does. His fingers find the little thing, so small, and he is unsure what response something so tiny could do. But anyways, he does as told. His fingers hesitate before rubbing slightly there, left to right at the beginning, and then up and down.

“F-Fuck!” You say almost closing your legs around his hand and dick, but you force yourself to remain open. Your other hand goes to hold you onto the mattress of the bed, so you don’t fall. You are leaning backwards now, and he can see your body in all it’s glory. 

It does have an amazing effect, he realises, as he rubs circles on your clit and you moan even higher, your legs tremble as you force them open, and you start lowering on his cock again. Unlike the last time, you don’t take the time to make sure his cock enters and comes out fully, but you just grind against it, and when you move up and down, it is barely just in the base of his cock. But the tip? It never leaves your wetness.

He wishes he could see the bump of his cock on your belly. He looks at your abdomen, and he can practically imagine how the shape of his cock would poke out from your abdomen.  

“I want to cum” He says, panting as his brain is overwhelmed. He is overdoing things, he tries to rationalise this, but between rubbing your clit, your cunt wrapping around his cock and his moans leaving his mouth, he feels like he will pass out any moment now.

“M-Me too” You whine, desperate as your hips rut more desperate on his cock, and that turns him even more. 

He has made a girl desperate for him. And he’ll make a girl cum on his cock.

Michael makes sure to rub your clit in a delicious manner. Or what he guesses is a delicious manner. And since you almost sob your moans, he’d say he is doing a fucking amazing job. 

“FUCK” He says as he feels your cunt squeeze him so much, that his mind practically goes blank “I-I’m cumming” He barely gets the words out as he feels himself spent on the condom inside.

He moans, loudly, it could be embarrassing if it wasn’t so pleasurable, and he has to throw his head back from the pleasure on how his shoulders tense up.

You grab his wrist, and he gets the clue that he has to keep his touch on your clit. Your cheeks are red from stimulation, and as he pants and whimpers from his orgasm, as he rubs your clit. It doesn’t take long, as you practically cum all over his cock, milking his dick and making sure his balls go empty. 

Even if he orgasmed first, your peak leaves him dry, and spent in more than one way. He doesn’t think he will ever hear a girl moan so loud and pleased as you when you cum thanks to him. 

When you fall to his side, he takes off the condom, leaving it on his bedside table. He looks at you, panting hard on his side, and he feels the same, as he looks at you, still mesmerised by you. 

He searches for your hand, awkwardly, and he moves you slightly closer to him. 

You both remain breathlessly, pants as you two face the ceiling. 

“So” You start saying, and he turns his head to yours, and you have another of your mischievous, alluring smiles on your face. “Have you blown the candles?”

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! Can you make a story where reader is not the mc and is in relationship with the boys who starts to act cold and indifferent bc of mc ? (i cant choose one i love all of them 😭)

summary; what happens when the l&ds boys have a run-in with the MC that changes everything.

warnings; angst, hurt, strained relations

note; my first request!! thank you so much for the love on my works, i’m so happy i can entertain with my writings!!

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

༊*·˚ xavier

you were curled up on xavier’s couch, engrossed in some cable drama that you had originally put on for background noise while you tidied. you didn’t even blink when the front door open and shut, signaling xavier’s arrival.

"how was work, xav?" you called, glancing over at him as he tossed his jacket onto the loveseat. you subconsciously leaned over as he approached the couch, your lips pursed as you awaited the usual ‘i missed you’ kiss that became a routine thing. however, he walked right by you and headed to the kitchen, eyes on his phone.

"it was fine," he responded absentmindedly, pocketing his phone and rummaging through the fridge. "i’m real tired, though. think i’m gonna head to bed early tonight."

you turned off the tv and stood, coming up behind him. your arms wrapped around his waist and you pressed your cheek to his back, sliding your hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"are you okay?" you murmured, giving him a comforting squeeze. "did something happen at work today?"

xavier shut the fridge and put his hands inside the pocket as well, over yours. "i’m okay. just tired is all."

he pulled your hands out of his pocket and turned to face you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling off to the bedroom. you frowned and wrote it off as a tough day, thinking it was just a once in a while thing.

until it became an every day sort of thing.

over time it grew more and more obvious that there was something else going on with xavier outside of work — he would come home later, his already kind of spotty communication became worse, and then the affectionate gestures became a chore to him.

you would try to hold his hand? oh, he needs to hold his phone or it's in his pocket suddenly. want a hug? expect one of those brief side-hugs. expecting a kiss? quick peck on the cheek at most.

it was heart-wrenching, watching the man who had loved you like you had hung the moon in the sky for years suddenly stop. the thoughts of where things had gone sour commanded your mind day and night, searching for the answer tirelessly. then, one day, the answer presented itself to you out of the blue.

or, rather, she presented herself to you.

you and xavier were spending a quiet (not by choice) morning in the cafe when a woman approached, calling xavier's name. you noticed the way he straightened and the way his eyes lit up before he quickly covered it up. your heart shattered but you swallowed the hurt, smiling at the woman as she looked between the two of you and introduced herself to you. xavier invited her to sit with you two and she accepted, allowing you front row seats to watch the man who was supposed to love you fall in love with someone else.

༊*·˚ rafayel

work had finished early today, leaving you the afternoon to do as you pleased. seeing as your last mission was located just a couple blocks from rafayel’s studio, you took it upon yourself to pick up some snacks from the cafè to surprise him since he had been working hard for days on end now.

with pastries in hand you walked up the pathway to the mo art studio, a skip in your step as your excitement became palpable. as you go to open the door it swings open for you, revealing not rafayel but a woman you’d never seen before. you faltered for a second as she brushed by you with a muttered apology, heading the way you came.

probably just some fan of his work, you thought to yourself as you headed inside. kicking off your shoes at the entryway, you head for the main room and find rafayel lounging on his couch. he sat upright once he noticed you, squaring his shoulders and forcing a grin.

“you’re here,” is all he said to you, a stark contrast to his usual witty comments on how you just couldn’t seem to stay away for long.

“work ended early, so i thought i’d bring you some snacks,” you replied, placing the paper bag on the coffee table as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the painting coming out?”

“fine,” he replied, digging into the bag and pulling out a tart. you waited for him to continue, to whine and complain about thomas or some media outlet being on his ass about something but nothing followed his curt response.

“so,” you drawled, filling the silence, “another fan found your address?”

rafayel’s brow furrowed and he swallowed before asking, “what do you mean?”

“the woman who left when i came,” you pointed out, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. “a fan of your art?”

rafayel shook his head, leaning back against his couch with a wistful smile. “oh, her? don’t worry about it, just a deepspace hunter looking into some things about my paintings.”

you wanted to not worry — truly you did — but something about the whole thing just didn’t sit right with you. despite the nagging feeling in your mind, you went to place your hand over rafayel’s so you could focus on something else. just as your pinky finger was about to interlock with his, he quickly pulled his hand onto his lap.

with a small nod, you stood and mumbled, “i’m gonna head home.”

you hoped that rafayel would say something — better yet do something — to get you to stay but no, he was off in his own little world, staring out the window at the sea. fighting back tears, you take your leave, slipping on your shoes and heading back towards the streets.

the sunny day was no longer warm and welcoming but hot and suffocating with your heart drowning in pain at the idea of the man you loved with all your being and more having someone else.

༊*·˚ zayne

things between you and zayne had always been kind of like a scale — some days it would lean to one side, some days the other.

he was stoic yet sweet, soft and caring in just the right moments. the times you were together were some of the most blissful times you could ever have imagined. just the right amount of intimacy, domesticity, and partnership that a relationship needed to blossom.

this would be outweighed, however, by the days straight without communication but you always chalked it up to his profession and never really had too much of an issue with how things went. you couldn’t begin to imagine the amount of stress that a doctor took on, especially in the day and age of wanderers. so, like a good partner would, you did all you could to be as supportive as possible in every way he needed.

from homemade lunches to silently holding him in your arms after a rough day, there was nobody better for him than you.

one morning after you had stayed the night, you woke up to a text from him asking if you could deliver his lunch that he’d left on the table. after sending a quick reply to assure him you’d swing by in a bit, you got out of bed and found some clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser for you.

soon after getting yourself together, you grabbed zayne’s lunch and packed one for yourself, deciding that it’d be nice to have a meal together in his office again since it had been some time since the last one. you enjoyed the brisk walk to the hospital, soaking up the early spring sun.

yvonne gave you a polite wave as you walked past the receptionist’s desk and down the hall towards zayne’s office. you knocked once before opening the door, stopping short as you noticed a woman sitting on the couch beside him.

“my bad, i didn’t know you had a patient,” you said with an awkward chuckle before holding up his lunch bag. “brought your —”

“just leave it on the desk,” zayne interrupted, nodding toward the desk in the corner. “thank you.”

“yeah, no problem,” you replied, doing as asked. you stand there for a second longer and zayne cleared his throat, gesturing towards the door. “oh, sorry. i’ll, uh, see you later then?”

your statement switched to a question when zayne raised an eyebrow at you, quickly shutting down any confidence you had. with a curt nod you exited his office and left the hospital, mind clouded as you aimlessly wandered until you found yourself at the park. sitting on a bench you took out your lunch and began to eat until you couldn’t stomach anything anymore with the image of zayne and the woman on the couch burned into your mind.

the way they were shoulder to shoulder; her hand centimeters from his knee; his eyes, usually icy and reserved, looking at her with a sickening fondness that you only saw from time to time; the way he addressed you not as a partner, but as someone who had intruded on something so important to him.

the way he was smitten, fallen in a way you had never seen in the year and some change you’d been together.

[moongreenlight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley who despite his better judgement lets Soap talk him into picking up a girl for the night.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Apparently Soap knows a guy who knows a guy in the area they’re deployed. They’d been staying at some shithole inn in France for weeks. Driving into the city to stake out some mark day in and day out. Tedious, mind-numbing work. Sitting at cafes and on patios at pubs people watching. Looking for anyone that may or may not match the vague description that had been provided by some mole on the other side.

Simon could sit still and shut up. Johnny was a separate issue. He could dial in for a few hours at a time, but then he’d start to slip. Bored and antsy, he’d try and strike up conversation. Inevitably returning to what must have been his favorite topic, or the one thing plaguing his mind the most. He’s horny. Fucking hell, is he horny.

Bitching and whining about not being able to get any play here because he doesn’t speak a lick of French and even when he tries it comes out so muddied that nobody takes him seriously. And that the inn they’re set up at is years away from town. Paints him out to be a serial killer.

Simon would grind his teeth and endure yet another one-sided talk about how bored Johnny had been getting of his hand. Even the left one wasn’t doing the trick anymore. He’d resorted to calling in some favors he was apparently owed to get the help of some girls in his evenings off.

“Jesus. Lookit the legs on her.”

Johnny had almost fallen out of his chair swiveling his entire body to watch some girl in a short skirt and a long trench coat stride past their spot outside of a cafe.

“Mhm.”

Simon was in a better spot to watch her pass. Eyeing her frame from over the rim of his steaming mug of tea. Fucking dreadful day. Drizzling rain. Bordering on sleet because of how miserable the weather was. Cloudy with a breeze that felt bitterly cold even through his coat. Shit tea, too. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander.

Not like they’d made any progress. Not like they could make any progress being staked out on a side street with no traffic whatsoever. The girl had been the only person other than their server that they’d seen come by in the last half hour. And sure, she had good legs. Better than their server’s at least. Some cranky older woman who’d ignored his attempts to order in French and looked mugged off that she had to deal with them at all, especially sat outside in this weather.

“Hell’s bells. Almost forgot you had a brain in there somewhere.”

Johnny, of course, couldn’t resist making a dig.

“Don’t get carried away.”

Simon grunted.

“Naw. C’mon, L.T. You like girls? They’ve got girls.”

Should have predicted that he was going to run wild with this.

“M’warnin’ you.”

“Loads of girls. Fuckin’ customizable. Send you a preference sheet and everything. Real professional operation.”

Johnny snickered into his paper coffee cup. Given to him along with a nasty look when he’d fidgeted with the ceramic mug he’d first had a bit too much and sent it smashing into the pavement.

Simon wasn’t one to be jerked around cock-first like Johnny, but Jesus. He was wearing thin. Maybe the isolation was getting to him. Maybe a seed had been planted somewhere deep in his mind from Johnny’s moaning. Not to mention, it was impossible to get it up watching French cable porn on a twin bed. He was backed-up and pissed off with the work. And with no end in sight, it could push a man to do strange things.

He shifted his hips forward in his seat, taking a long drink of his tea as he scanned the empty street for the umteenth time.

“Haven’t used up all your favors?”

You would have thought he’d just backhanded Johnny the way his eyes bugged out of his head.

“Gie’s a break.”

“Jus’ a question.”

Simon shrugged, sighing like he was already regretting asking. He was.

“Don’t work me up over nothin’, L.T.”

Johnny grinned, waggling his brows and leaning his forearms onto the table. Now completely distracted from the task at hand.

“Johnny.”

“Sure I could work somethin’ out. Only ‘cause I’m feelin’ generous. Ken yer a’right owing me a favor?”

Simon snorted.

“Sure I can manage.”

Johnny’s eyes were glinting something awful. More lively than he’d been in days. Practically laying over the table and kicking his feet. Thrilled to finally have the means to something Simon wanted.

“We’ll see about that’.”

Conversation moved on. Dragged back to the mission with instruction to change location. They spent a full ten hours out in the rain and the cold and the grey for absolutely no payout. Again. Still at square goddamn one. It was arguably worse than combat. Least on a real mission he’d get some release.

Johnny had stepped away in the early evening to make a call. Just before they were tapped out by Price and Gaz. Likely cashing in his favors owed, because he came back with a smug smile and two pints. Saying something about how Simon needed to quit taking himself so seriously. All work and no play or some stupid shit to that tune. Made a comment in passing on their drive back to the inn about how he should get his quarters decent by nine.

Honestly, Simon wasn’t expecting much. It was a bit of a ridiculous concept to him to begin with. He’d regretted saying anything straight after the words had left his mouth. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to entertain some two-bit whore, even if she just served to curb his boredom. He never sought out things like this. Never felt the need. He wasn’t like Johnny or Gaz where he had to sneak off during missions for a wank or a quick fuck when time allowed. Not like Price where he’d seek a willing nurse or secretary to grope or bend over his desk on a day off. Sure, he’d take the opportunity if it arose, but he was always more focused on the job while he was at work rather than chasing his next high.

And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken anyone home. Fucked into his hand as much was necessary to keep everything operational. Knew when it was time when he started lashing out on a hairpin trigger. Got lazy on missions. Lost one too many sparring matches during training because he couldn’t focus.

So when nine came and went, he just found himself agitated that he’d requested the woman at the front desk change the sheets on his bed again so late. Ducking out to the balcony for a cigarette when she came in and slipping her a few euros on her way out despite the way her lip curled distastefully. Fucking frogs.

He was sat on the armchair in the corner of his room. Halfway paying attention to whatever channel was on the TV across from him and nursing a tumbler of shit whiskey he’d picked up from the shops their first night in. Swapped his mission clothes for a black tee shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. Tugging his balaclava over his face out of pure habit. Strictly instructed not to wear it out for the sake of keeping a low profile. Though he wasn’t sure how much good that did. He stood out from the crowd with his scars and crooked nose and tattoos without the covering. Whatever. Wardrobe wasn’t his job for a reason he supposed.

The sharp knock on his door grated heavily on his last nerve. Eliciting a low growl, but no movement to answer. It was half ten at this point. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Probably just another group of teenagers lost on their way to a friend’s room.

Another knock, and this time it didn’t stop. A muffled giggle through the door.

“Jesus Christ.”

He grumbled, shoving up and striding over to the door. Jerking the door open and using his hulking frame to cover the small opening he allowed.

Johnny’s fist nearly collided with Simon’s jaw. Distracted by the two girls stood behind him in the hall, giggling at him and batting their lashes. He was grinning like a goddamned devil. Chest puffed-out, shoulders rolled back. Entirely too comfortable.

Simon cocked a brow, giving the group a scornful once-over.

“Aye, L.T.! I come bearing gifts.”

Simon’s brow shot up further, eyes flicking from his friend to each of the girls behind him. Johnny immediately caught on to his confusion and barked a laugh, slinging his arm around the shoulder of the girl on the left. She sunk comfortably into position, leaning into him and giggling like it had been rehearsed.

She was pretty. Both of the girls were. The one tucked under Johnny’s arm had long auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. Bright green eyes. Great smile. Perfectly groomed. Both of them covered conservatively by long coats to protect from the rain that had gradually started to come down harder and colder through the day. Hard to tell they were hooking by looking at them.

They seemed more familiar with Johnny than what Simon could assume was normal. It made his stomach turn if he thought too much into it, so he didn’t. Instead he side stepped, allowing the second girl barely enough room to slip through the door, and jerked his head for her to move.

“S’pose I know better than to expect a thank you.”

Johnny grinned, entirely unbothered by Simon’s glare that was boring through his skull. Arm already wandering down the auburn haired girl’s back at an alarming speed.

“Not as dim as you look, Sargent.”

Simon sighed, snapping the door shut.

“You’re late.”

He said flatly before he’d even finished locking the door. Turning to face the girl who’d already made herself comfortable on the edge of his bed. Leaned back on her hands, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Throwing off your schedule, am I?”

You said, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm. This made Simon recoil slightly. He’d been expecting some trashy, mildly-disgusting woman to come stumbling through the door when Johnny had mentioned he was cashing in favors. Not you. Not by a long shot. You looked, for lack of a better word, spoiled. Expensive. Perfectly styled, glossy hair. A tasteful amount of makeup. Not so much that it marred your features, but enough to make you nearly unapproachably attractive. And relatively covered-up. Expensive looking fur-trimmed coat falling just above your ankle.

Noticeable lack of a French accent. And you weren’t cowering in his presence, which suggested that you’d dealt with worse than him. A thought that sent something strange down his spine. Jealousy maybe? Anger? Sympathy? He wasn’t in the mood to dig further into that.

He crossed the room, lowering himself back into the armchair he’d been stationed in before his night was interrupted.

“You’re an hour and a half late.”

His tone was clipped. His eyes cold and hard. Fixed directly on you in an almost invasive kind of eye-contact. He jerked up his balaclava to his nose to take a deep drink from his glass. Studying you from over the rim. Killing the contents and setting it back on the side table with a soft thud.

You pursed your lips for a fraction of a second, standing from the corner of the bed and pacing across the small room to stand in front of him. Threatening to encroach on his personal space. Smiling tightly in a way that seemed to come with a practiced nonchalance. That same feeling settled in the center of his stomach.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I got caught up.”

Your soft, sweet tone did nothing to tame his irritation.

“They couldn’t even send a professional?”

He shot back tersely, folding his arms over his chest. You cocked your head slightly to the side. A fraction of genuine humor peeking through your smile.

“Plenty professional.”

You shrugged, letting the comment roll off of you. Water off a duck’s back. It irritated Simon to no end and he couldn’t pinpoint why. Trying to settle his mind by watching the way your perfectly manicured fingers began to work on slowly undoing the buttons of your coat with careful attention.

He snorted, tugging his balaclava back down over his jaw.

“That your thing, then?”

You gestured to his face covering. Shrugging off your coat to reveal a fucking scrap of a dress. Much more in-line with what he’d imagined a hooker to wear. A tiny, black, strapless thing that hugged your curves like it had been sewn directly onto you. Black lace garter pulled high on your thigh. Knee-height black boots that must have made you four inches taller than you were.

He cocked a brow, tapping a finger on the arm of his chair.

“Somethin’ like that.”

You cracked a true smile at that. Folding your coat neatly in your arms before setting it on the beat-up dresser to his right. Returning attentively to your spot in front of him.

He stiffened. Already perfect posture becoming rigid to the point of snapping. Keeping his hands firmly planted on either arm of the chair. Narrowing his eyes as he looked over your face in much closer detail.

“It’s late.”

Was all he managed. Voice rough as ever.

“And?”

You tilted your head like a confused dog.

“And you were an hour and a half late. It’s late.”

He shot back dryly. Nails digging into the chair.

“Let me make it up to you.“

You sank to your knees just between his legs surprisingly gracefully given how tight your dress was. Falling delicately onto the disgusting carpet. Faded and torn and fraying. Scratching at your bare knees. Didn’t even pull a face. Conditioned to understand that this was normal. Trained to grin and bear it. Another stone added to the weight anchoring him to his seat.

It was horribly cliche. Such a painfully tacky line, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth; so he shifted his hips forward and allowed your slender fingers to dance up his thighs and dip under the waistband of his sweatpants. Aided you in tugging them down to his ankles. Grit his teeth together when you began palming him through his underwear. Trying not to catch your eyes that were fixed up on him. Trying to push the nagging voice in the back of his mind away. Reminding him of just how dirty this was. Made him feel fucking pathetic. Calling in the aid of a hooker like he couldn’t bed a girl himself.

And the worst part. The part that brought up the most self-loathing; was how fucking fast the blood was racing to his cock under your touch. How much he truly enjoyed seeing you knelt down and blinking up at him with a look that could have been confused for adoration. Maybe you were a professional.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose when you finally sprung his aching cock free from his boxers. Forcing his head back to avoid your gaze. Pressing it hard against the wall to the point of giving himself a headache. Scarring the soft wood of the chair’s arms with his nails when you licked a hot stripe from his base to the tip.

All of his guilt and knotted up emotions seemed to dissolve themselves at least partially when you wrapped your lips around him. He’d almost forgotten just how warm a mouth was. Infinitely better than his hand. Jesus, was it.

He kept his hands to himself. Not needing to guide you like he had so many others. Tried to let himself relax under the feeling of your hand gripping his base and your mouth working his tip. And he nearly did get swept away when you removed your hand and tried to force his stiff cock to the back of your throat. Allowing you to work at choking and gagging around him for longer than was probably polite. But again, he just found himself irritated. Edging himself out of pure goddamn accident because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself from his mind.

He couldn’t understand why you were such a sticking point to him. He’d had one night stands before. Hell, that’s all he’d had. Never cared much about the quality or condition or history of the girls he slept with. Maybe he had a savior complex he was too stubborn to admit to. Maybe his mind had been so warped and addled over the years that he formed some kind of baseless connection with you for God knew what reason. He just couldn’t fucking stop thinking about you.

He would have liked to. Would have liked to screw his eyes shut and focus on how good you felt wrapped around him. Mouth hot and wet. Wanted to focus on the ecstasy of your throat struggling to fit him. Listen to your soft, choked whines. Let himself pretend you were no different to the others he’d bedded before, but it was fruitless. He made a low sound, a growl that lodged itself somewhere in his chest, before taking your jaw in his hand and pulling you off of him. Cock still throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.

“You need to go.”

He made the mistake of glancing down. Saw the way your perfect makeup had begun smearing around your eyes and down your cheeks just barely. Big eyes rimmed with tears. Nose running, chin and lips glistening. Slick from your own spit. It nearly pushed him over the edge, but he knew inevitably he was prolonging his own torture.

“What?”

Your voice was hoarse because of how much strain your throat had been under. Softer than it had been. Less confident. You looked almost hurt. Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and sniffing softly. Jaw held fixed in his hand.

“You need to go.”

He repeated, firmer this time. Sucking his teeth. Trying to ignore the way your gentle panting cooled the shining trails of spit running down his shaft and sent a chill up his spine.

Your face twisted in confusion, mouth falling open. Leaning back on your haunches to look him over like he’d suddenly grown another head.

“Is it not good?”

He groaned softly, finally letting go of your head. Not realizing just how much effort it had taken for him to pull you off until he saw the small red marks decorating the delicate skin of your jaw.

“S’fine.”

“Fine?”

You looked properly offended. A little confused. Like this had never happened before- and it probably hadn’t. Of course he’d be the one to stain your perfect record. Of course he’d be the one to warp your pretty face like that. Drove him up the fucking wall.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Now he was backed-up, pissed off, and you wouldn’t leave as easily as he would’ve liked. If he was lucky, he’d still have half a hard-on by the time he got you out the door. Maybe coax out a less than satisfying orgasm that would at least put him to sleep.

“Gave myself lockjaw for fine?”

You spoke again, those same nimble fingers now gently massaging the hinge of your jaw. He tried to avoid looking at the way your dress bunched around your hips and revealed your panties. Black lace that matched the garter on your thigh.

“It’s late.”

He huffed a sigh. Leaning down to fumble in his sweatpants pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. Needing anything else to focus on. It brought him nearly nose to nose with you. Not realizing until he flicked his eyes up. And you didn’t recoil. Sat there half glaring at him, the tip of your nose almost brushing his through the balaclava. You were pretty even this close. Probably more so.

“You’ve said.”

You shot back cooly, brows knit together.

“Have I?”

He pulled back up, hooking his mask up over his nose once more and sticking the cigarette between his teeth.

“Few times.”

You looked wholly unamused. He flicked his lighter open. Lighting the tip and taking a deep drag.

“Meant it a few times.”

He shrugged, speaking through his exhale. Turning his chin up and away from you so the curling smoke didn’t wash over you.

You snorted, pushing up to your feet, putting your hands on your hips and giving him a once-over.

“You’re seriously asking me to leave?”

His teeth sunk into the butt of the cigarette just a fraction too hard. He felt the crunch of the filter bending under the force.

“S’not you, it’s me.”

He offered. A wisp of a dry smile tugging momentarily at the corner of his lips. This earned another smile from you. He caught it even through the way you chewed the inside of your cheek.

“You married?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He almost choked on the cloud of smoke he’d been drawing in.

“No.”

His voice was harsh. Like a string pulled taught to the point of snapping.

“So what is it? You don’t like me?”

You shifted your weight a bit, but he could tell it wasn’t because you were uncomfortable. You still held yourself confidently. Shoulders rolled back, posture straight but not stiff.

“Bloody hell.”

He groaned, rubbing his brow.

“Is that it, then?”

You prodded further.

“No.”

You seemed thoroughly dissatisfied with his answers. But he didn’t know what else he could say. You seemed fine. Pretty girl. Got him closer to an orgasm than he’d come in weeks. He just couldn’t get over the fact that you were hired out to do this. Made him feel too dirty. That and he’d already looked too far into the situation. You seemed like you’d been doing this longer than anyone should have to. Strangely enough he felt some obligation to protect you. Wanted to pull you away from whatever situation that had pushed you to this.

“So what’s the hang up?”

You huffed a sigh.

“Don’t usually do this.”

He grunted out, resigning to the fact that he’d have to drink himself to sleep at this point. Leaning down to jerk his sweatpants back up his legs.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You snarked back. He snorted a humorless chuckle from around the cigarette.

“Nothin’ against you.”

“Yeah, alright.”

You shook your head, a small smile curving your mouth. A mix of confusion and amusement. Like you couldn’t believe that this was really happening.

“I’m not in the business of I.O.U’s.”

You said, looking over your shoulder while you walked over to grab your coat from the dresser.

“S’at so?”

He ashed his cigarette into his empty glass. Trying not to snort when you flashed him a sour look.

“You’re sure? I’m supposed to be here all night.”

You were already fastening the buttons on your coat. Glancing past him to the window on the back wall of the small room. The curtains were drawn, but through the backlight of the street lamps outside you could see rain streaking the glass.

“Mhm”

He hummed his answer. Silently grateful that you were finally moving toward leaving. Least he’d be able to get a few hours of shut eye before having to go back out tomorrow. Hopefully sleep off the guilt and the slightly sick feeling that’d settled itself over him.

You left a few minutes later. After making absolutely certain he was sure. Then it was ‘cheers’ and he was dead bolting the door. He got a fresh glass and downed the rest of the bottle of whiskey. Not enough to even get him tipsy, but enough to lull him into a dreamless sleep for the few hours he allowed himself.

He should have been expecting that Johnny would give him a fucking earful in the days following. You must’ve said something to the auburn haired girl and it got around. Wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him shit like he was getting paid to do it. Couldn’t believe that he’d pass up an opportunity like that.

They got shipped back to base about a week later. Simon was thankful for the short break. Slowly working on forgetting the entire mission. The whole ordeal with you. Focused his efforts on training and filling out the endless towers of paperwork that’d gathered on the edge of his desk in his absence.

And then it was months later. And he’d made good progress on forgetting France. Mission was a bust. Wasted time and money and effort for no payout. Turns out their mark had been in Germany the entire time. Tipped off that they were on the lookout for him. Johnny slowly stopped his teasing. Only occasionally bringing it up when Simon dismissed the efforts of an overly eager private. Things went back to normal.

After getting intel on a new assignment, Price had urged the boys to get together at some pub by base for drinks on him. Chat about next steps and do some more of the team bonding he was so keen on. Simon grudgingly obliged. The bar was full of people seeing as it was a Friday, so he was content people-watching and grunting a few words when prompted. Decent way to kill a few hours.

He’d excused himself to go outside for a smoke, pushing through the crowd until he finally reached the side alley next to the pub. Taking a few long moments to work his way through a cigarette and let his head stop pounding from the noise of the inside. He wasn’t focused on anything in particular, at least not until he heard some shouting on the street.

He furrowed his brow slightly, pushing off the brick he’d been leaned against and sidling out to see what was going on. Not usually interested in the commotion, but moving out of some deep-rooted obligation to supervise a situation.

He saw a car with dark tinted windows rolling slowly down the road. The driver leaning half-out his window and shouting something over to a girl who was walking by herself down the sidewalk. Her back was to Simon, but he could tell by how stiff she was that this wasn’t a friendly exchange.

He groaned under his breath, taking a moment to debate on if he should get involved before flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his heel. Starting down the street toward the girl.

It didn’t take him long to close the distance between them. The girl was walking slowly, he could see the way her head was on a swivel, searching for an escape. The driver of the car was shouting something crass at her and she was making a point of not engaging.

“Alright?”

He called out through the dim street, rolling his shoulders back and tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. Puffing out his chest slightly in case his sheer size alone wasn’t enough to impress.

The driver faltered slightly, the girl did not stop to look back.

“Yeah, mate. Cheers.”

The man called back, trying to sound casual. Simon grunted and nodded, staying as friendly as he could. Moving a little closer to the curb to shield the girl from view. Thankfully, this was all the interaction the driver seemed to need to get the hint. Pulling off without much more prompting.

The girl’s posture immediately relaxed. Shoulders dropped, slowing her gait to a stop.

“Thanks. I owe you-“

Her voice cut off like someone had pressed mute when she turned to face Simon. He was stunned. Fucking shocked to see your face. This had to be some cruel trick played on him by the universe.

You looked great. Better than you had in France- if that was even possible. Even with the way your face paled, he could tell. Your eyes were brighter. Shining at him like headlights. He would have been able to convince himself he was hallucinating if you hadn’t had that same look of recognition painted over your face.

“Thought you weren’t in the business of I.O.U’s.”

He broke the silence after a few long moments. Both of you stood rooted to the pavement mere yards apart. Your breathless laugh broke the tension like a stone dropped in the middle of a stilled lake.

“I wasn’t.”

He nodded sharply.

“And now?”

You smiled. Brighter than you had before.

“I could be persuaded.”

He scoffed.

“S’at so?”

[skeletonpunching]

Buddy Daddies short story

[Translator’s note: This is a short story posted on the Buddy Daddies website, which you could unlock by collecting stickers. It’s set pre-canon, and contains no spoilers.]

Suwa Rei, clad in a black suit, inquired quizzically from the passenger seat, "So it's here today?"

Kurusu Kazuki, in the driver's seat, turned off the car engine as he replied.

"This isn't a job."

"?"

A few months had passed since this homeless freeloader had wound up with Rei. They had also formed quite a dynamic work duo, but Rei still couldn't follow Kazuki's train of thought.

"Then what?"

"There's one thing — just one thing in this world — that I absolutely can't stand. Threadbare T-shirts!" 

"Huh?"

"Let's go!"

Kazuki flung the door open and sprang out into the carpark. Right before him, resplendent in the flood of sunlight, stood an enormous shopping mall.

Rei, still in the car, lifted a hand.

"Knock yourself out."

"You're coming too!"

"Ehhh..."

"Who do you think we're buying clothes for? Right now, you don't even have 'clothes to go clothes shopping in', do you? That's why I ended up having to drag you here in your work getup!"

"I'll buy them online."

"Hey. Do you even know your own underwear size?"

"..."

"Got you there, didn't I. Now, come on!"

"...ugh."

Rei begrudgingly hauled himself out of the passenger seat. His hair, pulled back in a ponytail, instantly wilted under the early summer sunbeams.

***

General stores, flower shops, sporting goods stores, cafes, opticians, jewellery shops — all sorts of specialty stores stood proudly in long ranks. The two of them made their way along the gently curving paths. The myriad shopfronts were lined with every imaginable item; with a place like this on hand, you would never want for anything. A pair of grown men might stick out like a sore thumb in a mall like this, but the place was mostly empty on this weekday afternoon, and so there were no curious stares to pursue them. Kazuki made for a menswear store, with his reluctant roommate in tow.

"Aaaaaahhhh!"

A shriek suddenly echoed through the cavernous mall, and they reflexively jerked to a stop. Kazuki whirled towards the source of the voice.

"Noooooo! I want thiiiiiiis!!"

A toddler was plopped down on the ground, clutching a toy tightly. The toddler's mother scowled.

"Don't you have the same one at home?"

"It's nooooot! This — it's not the saaaaame!!"

"Give it back! Put it down!"

It was just a trivial parent-child interaction, but it made Kazuki's breath catch in his throat. A life completely alien to an assassin. A scene that could never be bestowed on him. An everyday existence that lay just out of reach. Those illusions he had long since given up on were now flitting across his mind —

But Kazuki began to walk again, setting one foot stiffly before the other.

Just because he'd given up on a normal life didn't mean he could let himself sink into a sloppy mess.

A worn-out, threadbare T-shirt shouldn't just be treated as the norm. If no one was going to care for you, you should at least look after yourself.

"Huh?"

Just then, it abruptly dawned on Kazuki.

Rei had escaped. 

***

Given his profession, he was a dab hand at lockpicking. He was confident it would take him less than thirty minutes to crack all the locks in the store.

In Rei's imaginary shopping mall, a scene took shape, painted by the sound of their cries.

Dogs released from their cages, scampering in packs through the deserted sprawl of the mall. Cats smoothly scaling the clothing racks and curling up on top for an afternoon nap. Rabbits freely gnawing on lighting cables. Tortoises taking a leisurely swim in the plaza fountain. Parrots gliding through the air, adorning the halls with their vivid plumage —

"What are you up to?"

"...nothing."

Rei's hazy fantasies were dispelled by his partner's call.

"Need something from the pet shop?"

"..."

"We're not getting one."

"...I know."

"Yeah, you sure don't look like you know. Listen, in our line of work, there's no way we can be responsible for anyone else's life. Anyway—"

Rei dimly heard Kazuki launch into his lecture. He was used to being ordered around by other people; it was a natural part of his daily life, and so he thought nothing of this sort of incessant chiding. But now Rei found himself subconsciously listening to Kazuki's speech. It even felt... not too bad.

...that's... weird, for me.

Rei muttered under his breath, and the cat before him cocked its head, as if to match.

***

Whoosh! The rail rang out as the fitting room curtain slid open.

"See? That's better, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

Rei's T-shirt was printed with a drawing of a cat in a bowl. It was utterly unbecoming for an assassin. Rei's face, surrounded by his loose hair, also looked somewhat awkward.

"Are you... embarrassed?"

"Not really."

"So, should we put it back?"

"I'm buying it."

Whoosh! The rail rang out as the fitting room curtain slid shut.

Just what kind of poses did that guy strike, when he looked into the mirror? Kazuki stifled a smile, and leaning back against the wall, he called out.

"A real cat's out of the question. So make do with that for now."

"Yeah. This suits me."

Rei's reply, from the other side of the curtain, sounded not entirely displeased.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Writing Patterns

Thank you for the tag @lemonlyman-dotcom and @tellmegoodbye - 💛

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns! Cig's note: This isn't a rule but I've added a little 'read if you're in the mood for...' to each.

Keep the Lights On - It’s attempt number three of trying to lean coolly against Carlos' car while they wait for Paul to appear after finishing his shift. (If you're in the mood for: season one idiots in love)

The Wonder of It (I wrote chapter 2) - TK wakes to the sound of the storm wheeling overhead. In high winds, this house has a rattle like pennies in a jar. (If you're in the mood for: Kidfic and how TK and Carlos come to decide they are ready to adopt).

I Was Thinking About Your Mouth - Birdsong stirs Carlos Reyes – but he doesn’t open his eyes as he tumbles unwillingly out of a dream in which he wanders the floral halls of his abuela’s home. He finds her in every room, always delighted to see him. (If you're in the mood for: Silly smut and friendship).

Search and Rescue - TK howls as thunder crashes and lightning fills the dark bedroom with a white-hot flare, for a wild second illuminating their bodies as they bounce up-and-down in the straddle position. (If you're in the mood for: Tarlos adopting a dog).

Where All This Love Comes From - Saturday December 10, 2016. TK Strand opens his eyes on the morning of his twenty-third birthday when nausea stabs like a spike in his gut. (If you're in the mood for: A married Tarlos novel with backstory depicting TK's addiction and Carlos' relationship with his dad).

You Can Leave Your Hat On - “I love our loft so much,” TK yells from the bedroom, midway through stuffing his feet into gray cable-weave slipper socks with white fleece lining and gummy grips on the sole. (If you're in the mood for: Stupidly hot sex on a cold night. Emphasis on stupid).

Suddenly, In the Silence - Andrea kisses them goodbye on the doorstep and wraps her mauve cardigan around herself a little tighter, peering up with a wince at the night sky. (If you're in the mood for: Spending a dark and stormy night with TK and Carlos. And Andrea. And Gabriel...?)

Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines - Ten minutes into writing a story about a talking horse, Carlos Reyes is approached by his teacher and informed that he’s allowed to use a ballpoint pen for his cursive. (If you're in the mood for: A 3x08 coda that contains backstory for Carlos' and TK's experiences of 9/11).

Release the Hand to Relax the Animal - It starts instantly and out of nowhere. (If you're in the mood for: TK and Carlos having tantric sex).

When Soulmates Swim - If I can make it to the chair, TK thinks, then I can make it to the door. (If you're in the mood for: TK and Carlos falling in love while swimming).

Patterns: I'm not sure! There's a couple where there is an initial focus around atmosphere and setting; others where it's more in the action; others where it's perhaps a bit mysterious. Why is TK in a bad way on his birthday? What starts instantly and out of nowhere? Why is TK trying to make it to a chair, then to the door, etc? Overall I think it's a bit of a mixed bag. I don't think you'd get from the opening of I Was Thinking About Your Mouth that it's a very silly fic!

Open tag and tags below!

@heartstringsduet @paperstorm @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes

@reyesstrand @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @orchidscript

@liminalmemories21 @literateowl @alrightbuckaroo

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @freneticfloetry @ironheartwriter

@emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @three-drink-amy

@bubblesandroses8 @fifthrideroftheapocalypse

@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @butchreyes

@pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @lightningboltreader

@bonheur-cafe @sugdenlovesdingle @honeybee-taskforce

@theghostofashton @chicgeekgirl89 @sanjuwrites

@never-blooms - no pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[emaadsidiki]

༺♡ Geneva to Chamonix Mont Blanc ♡༻

[daintyshu]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

xix. mint choco lover (0.88k written)

kim sunoo liked to think he was a nice person. always putting others before himself, always willing to help others when they needed it.

but one thing about nishimura riki when he asks for favours is, he never keeps the promises he makes when he asks for help.

"thank you, sunoo hyung! i'll buy you dinner after class today!" sunoo ate dinner that he cooked himself at home that day.

"thank you, hyung! i'll do all your chores next week!" riki forgot to mention he was going back home that week.

"sorry for ruining the cable you lent me, sunoo hyung. i'll buy you a new one, promise!" riki, in fact, did not buy sunoo a new cable.

so, half-heartedly, sunoo agrees to help riki run an errand today. a video game shop in hongdae was having a sale between 4 to 5pm. half price on any games in the store.

everyone else was busy, including riki, which was why he had begged sunoo the previous night, to help him today and get a few games he had been eyeing on the past few weeks.

"what do i get in return?"

"i'll clean your room for a week," sunoo rolls his eyes at this. "no, you won't. you've never once kept your word to me whenever i help you,"

"please, hyung. i'll do anything you want. just do this one thing for me, please," at this point, the younger was already gripping his forearms to show how desperate he was.

sunoo leans back against the couch, raising an eyebrow at this. "anything i want?" riki nods profusely, eyes twinkling at the slight bit of hope.

"please, hyung. promise i'll keep my word this time. please, hyung, this is a really good deal and you're the only one who can help me. please,"

sunoo thinks he can't take anymore of riki's pleas. he gives the taller boy a bored look. "you owe me. i was looking forward to doing absolutely nothing at home tomorrow. you better keep your word or else. i know where you keep your video games,"

"thank you, hyung!" he manhandles his older friend, forcing him into a side hug before he gets up to run back into his room.

sunoo had never been more grateful of how much of a pushover he was.

it didn't matter that he knew riki wasn't going to keep his word. it didn't matter that he was going to have to be petty and hold riki's games hostage to have his way.

and it didn't matter that he initially wanted to spend time resting at home today, but ended up having to go out practically against his will (he dressed up real nice, took pretty pictures and took his own sweet time walking the streets of hongdae before his stop at the video game store).

all of it didn't matter. because if riki hadn't ask him to go out today. he wouldn't be sitting in front you right now, laughing over your own cups of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"wait did he actually say that in his sleep?" you spoke through laughs. not only did the cafe have fire mint chocolate chip ice cream, you also made a new friend there.

you remember the blonde boy from the first time riki brought all his friends over to odd atelier. sunoo, the one with the pretty eye smile.

and he's funny too. you haven't stopped laughing since he approached you and made conversation, talking about anything and everything. currently he was telling a story of the time he made riki watch a horror movie with him when it was only the two of them at home for the weekend. the younger ended up begging to sleep in sunoo's room that night, claiming he didn't want to be alone when a demon comes to hunt him down.

"he did!" his eyes close as he throws his head back laughing. you find yourself admiring the boy in front of you as you smile at his reaction. he was so cute and his vibrant personality was enough to distract you from all the thoughts that caused you to want to have "me time" in the first place.

"that's cute. riki acts all tough and macho but we all know how soft he really is," you smile at the thought of your younger friend.

"i can be cuter," the boy suddenly says causing you to look at him, flabbergasted. "sorry," he snickers at your reaction, apologises sheepishly. you giggle at this, standing up to return both your empty cups. "let's go,"

"go where?" the boy blinks, confused but still stands up anyway. "you said you were free all day today," you latch onto his free arm, locking it with yours as you skip out the store with a 'thank you!' to the workers.

"y/n, where are we going?" his heart skips a beat at the proximity between you two as you drag him along. he loves that you're already comfortable with him despite only talking for two hours.

you smile at him, only letting him know your plans when you stop in front of a store, familiar to sunoo as he was a frequent customer. the boy's jaw drops, laughing in disbelief.

"you're crazy."

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synopsis. in which you work at odd atelier cafe and can only make hearts in your lattes, causing a certain boy to misunderstand your intentions..... then he brings his friends and chaos ensues.

a/n: sunoo finally introduced 🗣️🗣️🗣️ only took 19 chapters 🤣

taglist (open): @semisemirin1i82 @txtmetonight @ilyjxdz @miniature-tragedy @n1k1mura @t00miee @manooffline @aerivrs @saranghaohoshi @woninluv @moony-mari @nctsshoes2 @sunghoonnsupremacy @mnxnii @lisaswifey @enhy4me2 @en-chantedtomeetyou @enhypenlovre @hwangism143

[rmd-writes]

'tis the season

@stereopticons tagged me to share my winter/holiday fics because 'tis the damn season! I love a winter/holiday fic despite the fact that I live in the southern hemisphere and today is 1 December and the temperature hit 35C today 😰

Schitt's Creek

and then one day, everything changed | T | 9.1k | canon divergence

All David wants to do is sign Marcy Brewer on to sell her amazing fudge at Rose Apothecary. Unfortunately for him, her very snippy, business consultant son gets involved. In an effort to win both Marcy and Patrick over, David invites Patrick to spend some time in the store and on a vendor trip. There’s snow forecast for the day of the vendor trip, but it’s Schitt’s Creek and it never snows. Right?

it's just for snow | E | 18.1k | coffee shop / fake dating AU

When David gets a last minute wedding invitation and Stevie refuses to go with him, he needs to find another date - he needs to show his so-called 'friends' (and Sebastien Raine) that he's thriving now. Enter: David's new favourite barista... — aka the coffee shop / fake dating / road trip / snowed in / there was only one bed fic no one asked for

since we've got no place to go | E | 6k | canon compliant

Patrick books a winter weekend away so that he and David can connect.

Red, White & Royal Blue

you're all that i need | M | 3.9k | coffee shop/book store AU

“Alex.” Henry leans against the wall behind the counter with his arms folded, wearing a pale blue cable knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up and navy chinos. Alex wishes he wouldn’t because it only emphasises his forearms.

He crosses his own arms in response. “Henry.”

“Are you actually looking for a book?” Henry asks with a sigh. “Or are you just wasting my staff’s time?”

“That staff member is my sister.”

“I’m well aware,” Henry says drily. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re probably wasting her time. Which book are you looking for?”

“Oh.” Alex grimaces slightly. “I’m not actually–” He exhales. “Hunter is in the coffee shop, so I got the fuck out.”

yours for the afternoon | T | 4.6k | coffee shop / fake dating AU

Henry is quietly minding his own business in his favourite coffee shop, when he’s rudely interrupted by an insufferable man attempting to flirt with him. He’s rescued by none other than Alex – a fellow cafe regular who he’s long admired from a distance – posing as his date.

Snowed In? Snow Problem | E | 7.3k | college AU

Henry and Alex get snowed in at their dorm for the holidays, whatever will they do?

911 Lone Star

Make the Yuletide Gay | M | 19.6k | college / fake dating AU

"I'll be your boyfriend for Christmas."

Carlos stares at him like his brain is struggling to comprehend what TK is offering. It's a shared feeling, given that sometimes TK's brain engages before his filter does, and this is definitely one of those times. There’s no room for regrets, though, and he’s not really sure he regrets making the suggestion.

“TK,” Carlos starts softly. "What you're suggesting is— Well, it's a little crazy but also very generous. I can’t ask you to do that for me. It’s really too much to ask of anyone."

TK gets up off his bed and crouches in front of Carlos, his hands on Carlos’s knees. “Firstly, you're not asking, I’m offering. Secondly, consider it a social experiment, like the ones you learn about in class. Except this one directly involves you and me...as your fake boyfriend. You know, for science." --

Fake boyfriends. For science.

Your Place or Mine? | E | 4.5k | college AU

(the sequel to Make the Yuletide Gay)

From best friends to fake boyfriends to real boyfriends, it’s been an eventful few days for TK and Carlos, but now they’re finally back home and alone.

Whatever will they do?

Tagging @welcometololaland @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes @three-drink-amy @everwitch-magiks @indomitable-love @cha-melodius @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @inexplicablymine @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @alrightbuckaroo @iboatedhere @reyesstrand @lightningboltreader @indestructibleheart @lilythesilly @maxbegone @mostlyinthemorning and anyone else who wants to play to share their own winter/holiday fics!

[helpleas]

i sit down at the cafe. i must do my AP research paper. my topic? post mortem ethics in paranormal investigation reality TV. i'm looking at multiple shows across streaming, cable, and the web. up next for analysis: the 2nd web show. i open youtube. oh no! oh no!

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #33] Boundaries (Or Lack Thereof)

warnings: miscommunication, kim seokjin!!!!, things are getting messy for our starluvrs, kissing, half a handjob, chess, even more miscommunication!!, fingering, titty sucking, star talk, 69, oral (m&f), ass eating (f), squirting, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie

wc: 12k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Wait, wait, wait. Slow down," Hoseok mumbles through a mouthful of shreddies, the hand that isn't holding his cereal bowl waving around in the air. He swallows harshly, then clears his throat. Looks at you. Throws you an expression of disgust, almost as if you've just divulged your deepest darkest secret- although, in a way, you sort of have. "You went to a what with who ?!"

Rolling your eyes, you sink further into your state of despair, curled up in the confines of an armchair in the art cafe. Phone in your lap, you're ignoring the messages Seojoon sent through this morning to ask if you're free this week. Aren't sure you're in the right headspace to be dating.

On your break, today's shift is quiet. No one is in, and no one is booked in, either. It'll be quiet for the whole day. Just one of those rare occasions you cherish. Easy money.

That being said, Hoseok's insistence on being a nosey fucker is making it a hell of a lot more difficult.

It's not like you had planned on telling Hoseok about everything you'd done while away in Busan - but the photobooth pictures were still in your bag. You'd forgotten about them when you'd asked him to go and grab your charging cable for you. Had entirely slipped your mind that Jeongguk was kissing you like he was trying to win the MTV award for 'best kiss' in a fair few of them.

And you were also blissfully ignorant to the fact the branded love motel receipt was in your bag as well. Had just thrown that in there, too.

After all, it's your bag. You'd never intended on anyone seeing either of those. It's been a week since you returned home. Have barely thought about the contents of your bag since.

But as soon as Hoseok had shrieked, you knew his eyes had been violated - and your right to privacy had well and truly been ruptured.

"Since when have you two-"

"Please don't."

"- been fucking ?"

"Oh, god," you groan again, hand covering your eyes. Pulling the pillow out from behind your back, you press your face into it. Scream. Thankfully, it's muffled. Hoseok doesn't quite understand the pandemonium.

"Why are you so dramatic," he laughs, tugging on the corner of the pillow to steal it from you - but your grip is firm. You need the pillow, because you need somewhere to bury shame.

It's an odd thing, sex. It's the most human thing we can do. So natural and yet so weighted. It should be casual. It should be without consequence. It's human nature, after all. What we're 'supposed' to do.

And yet, you know the consequence of sex is huge . You know that sex isn't just about pleasure. You know there is more to it. Know that it's all primal, and that it goes back to being cavemen, or whatever, and building networks for survival - but you're pretty sure they fucked around without consequence, too. There are, like, nearly eight billion people to prove that assumption correct.

Okay, so maybe their offspring was the consequence of the inconsequential lays, but, like, you're on birth control. Should you have let him finish inside you? No, probably not. Is it the worst thing that could have happened? No, definitely not. Has it made you suddenly overly aware of exactly what you've been doing with Jeongguk for god-knows how long? Yeah. Just a little bit.

It's all you can think about.

Wake up; think about the weight of his body on top of yours.

Brush your teeth; think about him behind you in the bathroom mirror.

Go to work; think about that stupid canvas up in his living room.

Go home; think about what it'd be like if he showed up out of the blue with an incessant need to fuck you.

Shower; think about, well... showers. Just ones with him instead.

Go to bed; think about him, and his hair, and that stupid lip ring, and the way he giggles, and the way he gets all moany and - fuck .

You are corrupted . Like a computer malfunctioning, Jeongguk has ravaged your servers. You'd let him do it again, though. Without question.

And now you're thinking about it again. Squeeze your thighs together, 'cause you're remembering the way he kissed you in the elevator. Lips soft, tongue gentle. Oh God . He's your friend . Pull yourself together!

"It's not a big deal-"

"Remember that one time he lied to you?" Hoseok interrupts, perching his ass on one of the cafe tables just across from you, crossing his arms. You raise your head. Glare a little. He's dressed in white cargo pants and some obscure indie brand t-shirt, so perfectly him, but so awful for a job involving paint. You're in all black. Of course you are. "Remember how mad you were? Swear there was steam coming from your nose."

You're not sure where he's going with this, so you narrow your eyes. "No there wasn't. But what of it?"

Hoseok shrugs. Doesn't laugh, but he is smiling like an absolute fool. "I'll get moody with you, if you don't stop lying."

Your jaw drops. Voice rises in pitch. "I'm not lying!"

"Bullshit."

"Honest-"

"You wouldn't be reacting like this if it was no big deal!"

With a purse of your lips, you pause. Consider that maybe he has a point - but it doesn't matter. You don't want it to be a big deal.

So you'll fake it till you make it.

"Look, I'm just processing things! Like, okay, yeah we did fuck." Oh, what a glorious thing to admit. You fucked Jeon Jeongguk. He fucked you . Oh, what a mess. "But we're both very much in agreement that our friendship is too good to lose-"

"You don't fuck your friends," Hoseok interrupts, all very stoically. "At least, you've never fucked me, and no offence, but the idea of it makes my skin crawl."

"Yeah, but you're like my brother," you reply, not offended in the slightest. Would rather set yourself on fire than shag Hoseok. It's not that he's not attractive - he's got a smile that could end wars and a personality that you'd happily grow old with. You're just not attracted to one another like that. Simple as that.

Jeongguk... yeah. Something about him just really gets you going. Always has done. That first night is a little sketchy - but you never forgot the barman with the smile and little shots of purple magic. As handsome as he is kind, you sort of think every human attracted to men would feel this sort of way about Jeongguk.

"Well, what do you think?" You ask Hoseok. "About Jeongguk?"

"What about him?" Hoseok asks right back.

You adjust in your chair. Focus your attention fully on him. Your friendship flourished with discussions of your relationship issues, and his dating history isn't too dissimilar from yours. He doesn't label himself when it comes to his preferences. Just says he goes for 'vibes.' Shame, really, that the 'vibe' he goes tends to be that of 'toxic prick'.

"Well... I -" you struggle to form a coherent sentence. Pause. Think. Rephrase. "He's hot, right? Like, the kinda guy you'd expect to see on a billboard? Right, Hobes? He is hot?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Hoseok laughs, catching the pillow with ease as you toss it at him. "Yeah, he's hot. Probably in your top three lays."

You groan. Didn't need to be reminded. Also know that he thinks Seokjin is, like, the walking dictionary definition of 'gorgeous'. You wonder who he prefers, when it comes to looks. Decide that you're better off not knowing.

Even if Hoseok does think Seokjin is in that top three, he also knows how horribly he treated you and would never actually think nicely of him.

"Look," he sighs. "Jeongguk's a nice guy. I remember how things were this time last year. You and me... shit. We were both going through it. It was a really fuckin' sucky time."

You nod. Are thankful you had Hoseok while you were dealing with the demise of your relationship with Seokjin. He's just as thankful for you, in regard to his.

"Thing is, I don't know about you, but I can pinpoint the day it felt like we finally had you back. Took fuckin' ages. Was really hard to see you go through all that," he admits. There's a weight in your heart. Your era of self-destruction had been yours and yours alone. Not once did you consider that maybe it would be a heavy burden for those who loved you, too.

It was never a burden. Not in Hoseok's eyes, nor Danbi's. Just a cycle of life we all go through.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, a little ashamed, aware of how many nights were wasted crying over a man who simply wasn't willing or able to love you. Not like he said he did.

Hoseok shakes his head. "Don't apologise. It was both of us. I know I wasn't easy, either."

"You were fine," you reassure him. "Totally fine. Honestly."

He rolls his eyes. Knows that he was partying way too hard.

"It doesn't matter. What I'm saying is that there was you before Jeongguk, and you after Jeongguk," he says kindly. Smiles; lips pursed together, eyes soft. "You after Jeongguk? Yeah. Feels like you before Seokjin."

With Hoseok's words comes a sucker punch; a blow to your heart that makes it feel like your stomach has been stolen. You've known for a while that progress has been made. Are fully aware of Jeongguk's impact on that - but thought it was a little secret just for you. Like a safety pin in an ill-fitting dress, or glitter sprinkled into your moisturiser. Thought that nobody could see just how important he was for your progress.

But Hoseok's known for a while now. Has known far longer than even he realises. Just started equating your happiness to Jeongguk. The shifts you worked following time spent with him were always full of far more laughter. The shifts you worked knowing you'd see him afterwards were always a lot more optimistic. When he actually thinks about it, there are few times you've been genuinely miserable at work in the last few months, and those occasions nearly always align with Jeongguk and a little girl drama that you moan to Hoseok about.

"Do I think Jeongguk is entirely responsible for that?" Hoseok continues when you go quiet. "No. You're the one who's done the hard work - and trust me. I know it's hard. I had sleepovers with the she-devil -" You laugh quietly at the newly coined nickname for his ex. "- way more times than I admitted to you and Danbi after the breakup. But Jeongguk... Yeah. I'm not sure if it's correlation or causation. I just know it's not a coincidence."

You shrug your shoulders a little. Aren't really sure if he's right or not. Just know that there's no denying Jeongguk played a vital role in dragging you out of your Seokjin-shaped pit of despair.

"I asked him," you begin quietly. It's a little embarrassing. You've not even told Danbi, yet. You know she'll go to bat for you whatever the weather, and worry about souring their friendship. But you need to tell someone . Someone needs to know you tried . "I asked him what was going on between us... and he made it pretty clear he views me as a friend. So, like, it doesn't really matter."

Friends, he had said, but then he kissed you like he meant it.

Fucked you a third time. Lazily. Slowly. Languidly. Confusingly. Intimately. Had laughed with you after your incredibly early climax, pressing a kiss to your cheek, his beating heart thumping against your chest.

Had looked down at you while you were lying between his legs, tongue trailing up his cock, pretty smile on his lips and reached for your hand. Held it. Whispered some bullshit about how lucky he is. Finished in your mouth, then kissed you afterwards to say thank you.

But when the caricature lady down on the boardwalk had asked if you were a couple later that evening, Jeongguk had quickly corrected her. " Friends ." The hearts that would have been drawn between you were instead replaced with stars. It was fitting. As it should be.

Stars, not hearts.

Friends, not lovers.

"I'm not really sure fucking in a motel is a friendly thing to do," Hoseok simply states - but is cut off by the ding of the art cafe door swinging open. It's a couple not much younger than yourself. Uni students, you imagine. Matching branded shirts and dark slacks.

Hoseok walks over to greet and set them up for their session. It's two girls, and the taller of the pair watches her partner with absolute fondness as she organises the canvas sizes they want, and the drinks they'll order. Her eyes shine like the reflection of the moon in Gwangalli harbour, and it makes your heart hurt a little.

It's been so long since you felt someone look at you like that. Nearly a year on since your last relationship ended, the prospect of falling in love isn't as scary as it once was. Not really.

A smile tickles at your lips. Isn't as scary as it once was. Your fingers toy with the dainty bird on the chain around your neck. Its purpose, it would appear, has been served.

And perhaps that's it; perhaps you're just ready, now.

If you are, then of course, it would be natural for you to confuse your feelings for Jeongguk. It had always been a non-option before. A 'what the fuck' not a 'what if'. Yet your heart is quietly calm when you think about what it could be like to pursue someone romantically. It thump, thump, thumps; adrenaline in your chest. Maybe you can do this.

This is what you've been working for. This is it.

Oh the realisation is freeing. Welcome. Wondrous.

And so as Hoseok rings up the bill for the girls by the counter before they start their date, you slip into the staff room. Take your phone off charge, and call through to the only person you ever ring these days.

It takes a few dial tones, but he picks up.

He always does.

"Hey," Jeongguk says through the phone, a little breathless. "Sorry, just with Joon. Playing tennis. You good, Byeol?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, with a sense of urgency in your tone. "Sorry, is now a bad ti-"

"No," he interrupts, as if he hasn't just got a bollocking from Namjoon for dipping mid-rally to take your call. "Not at all. What's up?"

"I won't keep you," you hurriedly reply. Really, you don't want to take up any more of his time - it's just that you want to be sure. Want confirmation that you're doing the right thing. "I've been asked on a date. Seojoon, again. What do you think?"

There's a second of silence. A skipped heartbeat. A missed signal.

"Uh, yeah? Sure? I mean, sounds great." There's uncertainty in his voice, but he masks it well. "That's what you want, right?"

"I don't know," you admit, as you lean against the wall, a little defeated. There's a vulnerability to your honesty. One that makes you nervous. Unsure of yourself. Start to ramble, because it's much easier than getting straight to the point. "It's just... you and me. We've done so much together recently, and like... it's always really nice. And fun. And like, I don't wanna ruin our friendship or anything like that. It's just things don't scare me in the same way they used to and I thought that maybe-"

"I gotta get back to the match, B," Jeongguk's voice crackles through the phone. Smiles, 'cause he thinks it will make him sound happy. It doesn't. "Joon's moaning. Sorry. Look, you do what you need to do. He seems nice. We'll talk later, alright?"

"But I-"

The line goes dead before you can express what you really want to get across. Your lips rest ajar; unspoken syllables fading into nothingness.

Jeongguk is gone, and with him goes any hope you had foolishly put into thinking maybe things could continue as they are.

But your agreement was contingent on your fears, not your hopes.

What a silly little fool you are.

And what a silly thing for Jeongguk to have done; phone in his hand, frown on his face.

Sitting on the rigid steel bench beside the court, Namjoon is nowhere to be seen. He's gone to the bathroom. Jeongguk never had to hang up.

He just didn't want to say things he couldn't take back. Didn't want to discourage you from doing the one thing that you've worked so fucking hard for: a normal relationship.

It's the least you deserve - and what kind of asshole would he be if he were to help you prepare for one only to sabotage you as soon as it seems as if one is on the horizon.

Running a hand through his hair, Jeongguk shakes it back down into position. The sun is glaring down despite the cold winds that whistle through the trees, and a little fleck of glitter catches in it. His skin is dappled in a dozen reminders of you, even if the hickies have faded, now.

In a park downtown, he's been with Namjoon all morning. Tennis isn't their sport of choice, usually, but it's with purpose.

"C'mon. One match," Namjoon had begged Jeongguk the night before. "I need to catch this guy outside of the office. Get him when his guard is down."

Working on a story about insider trading, Namjoon has been trying to talk with someone at one of the big firms up in the financial district. No one huge. Just a middleman. An investor. Sort of like the investment analyst he met at one of Taehyung's art shows. One of the ones that Seokjin had forwarded the invite along to.

The same one that Namjoon had schmoozed. The same one Namjoon had lied to, when he said 'oh, you play tennis? Whereabouts? I'm looking for a new club."

And so now Jeongguk is two matches in, regretting all of his life choices while Namjoon makes small talk with men wearing watches that cost more than Jeongguk's entire net worth.

So preoccupied with thoughts of you, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip, Jeongguk almost doesn't realise Namjoon hurry back over to the court.

"Play it cool, play it cool," he whispers, his dark hair cropped short, white tennis polo pristine on his broad shoulders. He really does look the part. Jeongguk is a gym rat through and through, but he's tried today. Is in shorts. Isn't wearing a polo 'cause fuck that, but has coordinated a seamless all-Nike look. "The guy I'm after is here. He's booked in for the court beside us-"

"How do you-"

"The reservation system is easy as fuck to bypass, just needed a plugin," Namjoon dismisses Jeongguk's questioning, as if it's a totally normal thing to do. Perhaps in his field of work, Jeongguk considers, it is. "Anyway, not important. Park Sungkyu is his name. Analyst at Shilla Finances. Probably won't know shit, but will know people who do. I just need to touch base. Get connected."

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but stands up nonetheless. Pats himself down, and tosses his phone back into his rucksack, which is slouched against the leg of the bench. "You owe me."

"I'll buy you all the meat you want," Namjoon grins, heading over to the other side of the net.

"We're going straight to a samgyeopsal place after this," Jeongguk assures him. Is almost positive his stomach rumbles as soon as he says it. "Fuckin' starving."

"You're always starving," Namjoon laughs - but he doesn't mind. They've already been at the club for far longer than anticipated. If anything, he feels a little bad. "Let's rally."

Bouncing a luminous yellow ball against the gritty surface, Namjoon gets a feel for the weight. Jeongguk leans forward a little, knees bent. Twists the racket he rented from the club shop between his palms. For someone who has no interest in the sport, he sure does look good playing it.

Both of them ignore the looming presence coming their way. Men. Two of them. Tall. Broad. Similar silhouettes, but entirely different auras. One is far more imposing. Makes Jeongguk wanna look in their direction - but he doesn't. Just focuses on Namjoon as he begins to swing through a smooth serve.

A little uncoordinated, what Namjoon may lack in grace, he makes up for in gritty determination. He's fun to play against, 'cause Jeongguk never knows what's coming next.

"Well, I never," a charming, brooding voice echoes from afar. "Kim Namjoon."

He concedes the point immediately. Lets the ball bounce off into the empty space behind him as he turns to face the approaching men.

"Park Sungkyu," Namjoon grins back, bowing ever so slightly to greet him. Jeongguk follows suit. "Fancy seeing you here."

Short sides, long top, Sungkyu's dark hair is held in place by a white sweatband. Like Namjoon, he's in crisp white tennis attire. Lips thin, nose a little crooked, Jeongguk wonders just how many rackets he's taken to the face. Definitely has the sleazy persona to warrant it.

Maybe Jeongguk's back is just up. Maybe he's just aware that Sungkyu is an acquaintance of your ex. A friend .

Any friend of your shithead ex is, as far as Jeongguk is concerned, also a shithead.

Which means the other guy most likely is, too.

He's tall. Rivals Namjoon. Shoulders broad, gaze icy, there's something about him that just irks Jeongguk. Perhaps it's the arrogant smirk, or perhaps it's the designer garments on his well-built frame. Perhaps it's jealousy - this guy looks like he's got his shit together, which is something Jeongguk could only dream of.

But he also seems older. It's unfair to compare.

Jeongguk might not care for the formalities, but he was raised well. Will greet his elders with respect.

After all, it's irrational for him to have such a bee in his bonnet.

Maybe it's you. Maybe he's just so frustrated with the situation at hand that he's letting it impact his other interactions - and so he shakes his head softly and realigns it with a warm smile. Will let the other men initiate a greeting.

Naturally, they do. It's the taller one. Holds out his hand for Jeongguk to shake.

Jeongguk follows suit. Nods politely. Thinks he might die, when the gentleman in front of him says, "Kim Seokjin. Nice to meet you. A friend of Namjoon's, I assume?"

Hand still in Seokjin's grasp, Jeongguk wants to strengthen it. Use it against him. Flip him onto his back and tackle him to the fucking ground. Wants to do shit that he knows would grant Seokjin a restraining order against him.

But instead, he smiles. "Correct. Jeon Jeongguk."

His name means fuck all to Seokjin. Sparks nothing inside of him.

But something that does catch his attention?

The glitter on Jeongguk's tattooed arm, glimmering in the low winter sun.

Seokjin smirks. Lips plump, jaw well-defined, Jeongguk understands why you didn't like kissing anyone after him. Fuck . How the fuck could he ever compete with lips like those?

"Assuming that's not yours?" he nods towards the pretty sparkles as he lets go of Jeongguk's hand.

Shaking his head, Jeongguk is coy. "Correct. Not mine."

Oh, but it is, babe.

"I feel for you," Seokjin laughs, entirely unaware of whom may have stained Jeongguk in the evidence of their affection. Seokjin's skin is pristine. Not a speck in sight. It comforts Jeongguk. "Really, I do. That shit's a bitch to get off, isn't it?"

"I used to date a guy," your voice had lingered. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature, and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser. Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"

"It's not a bitch to get out."

"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you had shrugged your shoulders into Jeongguk's mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

"It's not a bitch to get off," Jeongguk simply smiles. Shrugs a little sheepishly. Is about to say something he really shouldn't, but knows better. "And anyways, I like the reminders."

Oh, how Jeongguk wants to be vulgar .

Wants to say shit about the way he always ends your sessions covered in it. Want to tell Seokjin how well he handles your body; how he knows you didn't cum the last time you were in bed with him, and how Jeongguk always makes you cum.

But the reason Jeongguk has glitter on his skin today is because he slept on your side of the bed last night. Missed you. Wished you were there.

And so he won't speak of you in such a way. Not that he ever would, regardless.

"Credit where it's due," Seokjin nods, raising his brows, deliberately a little cheeky because he's assessing what kind of character Jeongguk has. "Girls who wear glitter, man..."

He's not even finished the sentence and Jeongguk already wants to rip Seokjin's enviable eyebrows straight off his face.

"... they sure know how to have a good time."

Oh , Jeongguk thinks. It's far less vulgar than he was anticipating from Seokjin.

Until he adds, "used to screw a girl who was always covered in it. Annoying as fuck. Good fucking lay, though."

Jeongguk is trying his hardest not to pick a fight, but Seokjin's face looks just as appealing as the figurine display units that Jeongguk so often shatters, right now.

Calm the fuck down. She'll kill you if you hit him. Calm. Idiot.

'Used to screw', he scoffs internally. You fucking dated her for, like, a year, you prick. Longer than that, maybe. I don't even know. But you're a fucking prick. And you didn't make her cum. Prick.

"Thought this was a club for gentlemen?" Jeongguk teases playfully, not wanting it to seem as if he's being critical. Has an act to play, after all. Will behave himself, but only 'cause Namjoon needs him to. "Surely that's no way to talk about women?"

Seokjin shrugs. "Boys will be boys."

"I don't know about you, Seokjin, but I stopped being a boy many years ago," Jeongguk laughs as he edges closer to Namjoon.

He wants this conversation to be over as soon as it can be. Wants to fucking leave. Wants to sprint to your place and fucking worship your glitter-covered skin. Wants to rid you of how awful loving Seokjin must have been.

It's been a matter of minutes, and Jeongguk already feels horrible on your behalf - and you had to endure this?! Loved the man who spoke about you like this?

Oh, it makes Jeongguk feel all sorts of sick.

Also makes him feel petty. Vengeful.

She came to me. That night you fucked her, and left her all fucked up? I'm the one she came to. I'm the one she trusts.

"Actually, now I come to think about it," Seokjin muses. "You must have met her - I assume you were at the Gallery? The Ryu? For what's-his-face?"

"Kim Taehyung," Jeongguk reminds him. Think's Seokjin would do well to remember to put respect on his name.

"That's it! My ex curated it. Asked me to come, but I had a prior engagement so I sent along Sungkyu instead."

Interesting, how Seokjin calls you his ex, now. Calls you his ex when you're doing shit he likes. Things he could be proud of.

Calls you nothing but a girl he used to screw when he's talking about glitter.

"Yeah, I know her fairly well," Jeongguk shrugs, seemingly indifferent. Seokjin doesn't deserve to know anything that's going on with your life as far as Jeongguk is concerned, and that includes the fact that he knows you're a 'good lay'. Instead, Jeongguk smiles. "It's a shame you guys didn't work out. Not the kinda girl you'd wanna lose."

Seokjin glances down at Jeongguk's frame, then back up. Scopes him out. Assesses what he could mean by that. Decides the kid probably has a crush on you. Cute.

Also a little true, but what does it really matter? Let Seokjin think you're desired. Let him know what a colossal error he made in letting you go. Let him rue the day you decided you were deserving of more.

"What did you say you do again?" Seokjin asks. "For work?"

The change in topic is direct. Pointed. Asserts Seokjin's place in the hierarchy. Knows Jeongguk is younger, and knows he ain't working no corporate job with his ink-scrawled skin and metal in his face. Knows he's beneath him.

"Just finished school," Jeongguk says, not missing a beat. Doesn't lose his posture, despite the fact he wants to sink his back down a wall and scream at the world for how cruel it can be.

He doesn't admit that he serves drinks to keep a roof above his head - a roof that he can only afford because Jimin is generous with the rent split.

"And then?" Seokjin presses. Wants to know who this kid is. Wants to know why the fuck his arms look like they've been held by you, and if the ever-so-faint mark left on his neck is from the scuff of a tennis ball or the pressure of your lips.

"The world is my oyster," Jeongguk shrugs, with a grin.

See, Jeongguk might not have financial security, or property of his own, or a business card that would bring his parents any pride, but he has one thing Seokjin doesn't; the freedom of youth.

He's not tied down to anything. Has no real obligations. Can do whatever he wants. Could drop everything and travel the world. Could retrain. Could really make something of himself.

And yet if Jeongguk were to find himself half the world away, lost down La Rambla, he knows it's you he'd wanna find once he finally reached Park Guell. Should he retrain, he'd hope for you to be his study partner; someone to keep him focused and yet entirely distracted in the university library. If he became a star, it'd be you he'd glance over to at the side of the stage during the song that made him his fortune - one about stars, and how he's got one of his very own.

"Youth," Seokjin muses, then calls over to his friend. "Ain't that a beautiful thing, huh, Sungkyu?"

"Hmm?" He hums in response, as the separate conversations merge together.

Seokjin nods down towards Jeongguk. "Kid's just finished school."

With a laugh, Sungkyu shakes his head. "Those were the days. Make the most of it while it lasts."

"Trust me," Jeongguk smiles. "I will. Now that you mention it, actually -" he taps Namjoons shoulder. "- I gotta get going."

"Oh?" Sungkyu asks, not that it makes much difference at all. "Not want a quick doubles rally? Put that youth to good use?"

With a shake of his head, Jeongguk shrugs. "Got plans with my girl that I can't miss. Something about youth, and putting it to good use, if you catch my drift."

The insinuation is clear, but what isn't?

Who the fuck Jeongguk's 'girl' is.

Namjoon sure as hell has no fuckin' clue, but Seokjin's looking at Jeongguk with stern, questioning eyes. There's glitter all over his skin. Acknowledgement that Jeongguk thinks you hold a certain value.

It's only confirmed when he says, "Sorry boys. Next time, maybe. Can't bail on her though." Repeats his earlier declaration as he walks away. "Not the kinda girl you'd wanna lose."

He'll apologise to Namjoon later. Explain himself. Is sure he'll understand his desire to leave.

Grabbing his bag as he heads past the bench, Jeongguk reaches in for his phone before slinging it over his shoulder.

Opens up his call list, and clicks your name.

Waits for the call to connect, and as it does, he doesn't wait for a 'hello'.

"Did you say 'yes' ?" Jeongguk immediately asks down the line. Furrows his brows when there's hesitation to your reply.

It's not like you need clarification. There's only one thing he could be asking about.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Both are a bit busy this week, so it's next Monday."

He's the one who hesitates, now. Wants to stop walking and gather his thoughts, but fears Seokjin will be watching on.

"Okay," he says, tone hard to distinguish. "Will you come over tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah," he nods, not that you can see him. The entire conversation feels painfully awkward, both of you tiptoeing around the fragments of your broken relationship.

"What for?"

"Haven't really hung out since Busan," he says. Smiles. Tries a little humour. "And very soon you're gonna be ditching me for another man-"

"Oh, shut up."

"-so I wanna get as much time with my bestie as I can before that happens."

"I'm not gonna ditch you, idiot."

"So you're gonna come over tonight?"

You pause. Jeongguk nervously bites his lips as he waits for a response.

"I've got pole with Danbi."

"Come round after."

"I'll be tired."

"I don't care."

"I'll need a shower."

"I've got a shower. And really nice towels. And Jimin's out tonight, so you can use as much of his expensive conditioner as you like."

"And you'll order us food?"

"What do you fancy?"

"Meat?"

"This is why we're friends," Jeongguk grins down the phone. "Grab a taxi to mine after pole. Let me know when you're on your way, and I'll order food, okay?"

An agreement is made. He sort of knows what time to expect you at his - and yet he waits until you text to say you're on your way. Only then does he jump in the shower. Is quick. Wants to be ready for your arrival. Always thinks he looks a little sexier fresh out of the shower.

Forgets all about that food he's supposed to be ordering. Will just figure it out when you get here. His head is all over the place, to be fair to him. Easy mistake.

As a knock sounds at his apartment door, Jeongguk swallows down the trepidation that's burning in his chest, towel wrapped around his hips, upper body on full display. Tiny droplets of water drip from his hair and run down his chest, but he doesn't care to properly dry himself off.

If anything, he's kinda hoping he'll end up beneath the shower once more before the night is over.

Unlocking the automatic bolts, Jeongguk looks entirely unashamed as he greets you.

"Hey, B."

Lips parting a little, you look at him as if he's crazy, before waltzing on past him. Shoes off, bag down beside them, you laugh. "What if it wasn't me at the door? And you were just there all naked and stuff?"

"Not naked," he insists. "Got a towel on - and like, I'm in my house. I can wear what I like."

And as watches you shake off the thick black padded coat you were wearing, he is all too aware that nakedness doesn't always equate to sexiness. You're fully clothed - but fuck . He can feel the blood draining from his face and heading straight for his cock instead.

"What?" You tease when you notice the look on his face. "I'm not naked."

You're quite far from it, actually. 

Normally you're a lot more demure for pole. Sports bra, workout shorts that barely cover your ass to allow for maximum skin-to-pole friction. Shit like that.

This month, though, your pole instructor is on an empowerment hype. She's gearing everyone up for the singles holiday that comes every April. "Drowning your sorrows in jjajangmyeon and cheap alcohol is not enough. We don't need to be sexy for anyone - but we should be sexy for ourselves."

And so while you've got a pair of dark - and incredibly flattering - flared yoga pants on your bottom half, it's your top half that you know is really doing numbers on him. Your white tee is thin. Sheer, almost. Wide and oversized, the neckline lazily hangs off one of your shoulders, revealing the lace detailing of the lingerie you're wearing. It's black, and sparkles ever so slightly.

Or perhaps that's just you.

Glitter taints your skin like it always does, and Jeongguk finds himself in a subtle but certain trance.

Turning to toss your coat on the sofa, Jeongguk gets a glimpse of your ass. Yep . Still an ass guy. Hair up in a claw clip, he's reminded of how much he fucking likes your hair like this. Simplicity looks so good on a girl so complex.

You glance down at his body. Pretend like you don't feel the way that the slight tenting of his towel suggests how he feels.

You've a date next week.

Would be wrong to get on your knees for your friend.

Leaning your head back, you groan. Laugh. "I hate you."

It's a damn lie and you both know it.

"Hate you, too," Jeongguk laughs, just as frustrated as you are. Looks at you with such fondness it's a wonder he's able to fuck you in the way that he does.

"We shouldn't," you say. There's no need to elaborate. You both know what you mean. The hunger in his eyes and the way you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue says it all.

He nods. Agrees. "Absolutely not."

And yet you both remain fixed in position.

Jeongguk doesn't move, and nor do you, almost as if a magnetic pull is keeping your feet firmly in place.

You're a little subdued when you say, "I said yes to another date."

Again, he nods. He already knows. He told you to.

Gaze dark, Jeongguk's jaw is a little tense. He closes his eyes, soul hidden away from you. Tilts his head down, strands of damp hair falling in front of his face.

"So what does this mean for us?" You ask quietly.

Resuming his previous position, Jeongguk looks at you again. Walks your way. Stops only when he's a few inches in front of you. Curls his index finger and rests it beneath your chin. Tilts your face. Gets your eyes on his. Studies your face. Tips his head to the side and smiles.

Your glitter is pretty today, he thinks. Well, no, actually he thinks it's always pretty - but there's something about it today that he really loves.

"You're so sparkly, Byeol," he simply says. "So sparkly."

You roll your eyes. Smile in such a way that Jeongguk wants to kiss you immediately. Wants to feel the curve of your lips against his.

Instead, he licks his lips. Flicks against his piercing, then chews down on his plump bottom lip.

Eventually, he says, "I met him today."

"Hmmm?" you question, not really paying much attention. Too busy watching his lip ring do the thing.

"Seokjin."

Your eyes shoot up to Jeongguk's. He drops the soft support of his finger from your chin. Doesn't touch you, 'cause he wants space to be an option if you need it. There's a panic to the way your eyes dart across his face, almost as if you think he's joking, or something like that.

"Sorry?"

"Forgiven - hey!" He exclaims when you immediately flick his nipple.

You would apologise, but he thinks he deserves it.

"How did you-"

"Was at the tennis club. Joon has a mutual friend, or something like that," Jeongguk simplifies. There's no need to go into the intricacies of it all. Not now, at least.

"Did you..." you begin to question, but have no idea what you really want to ask.

Jeongguk auto-fills for you. "Talk? Yeah."

"How did that go?"

"Well," Jeongguk takes a deep inhale. Exhales. "I think I owe you an apology."

You narrow your eyes. Let your hands rest on his slim waist, keeping him close. You don't want space. You want security. Want Jeongguk around, 'cause the feeling that comes with thinking of Seokjin is always one of loss.

And so he edges forward. Leaves such little space between you that it may as well not exist at all. Drapes his arms over your shoulders. Forehead to yours. Nose against nose.

"What for?" you ask, as if this is normal. As if anyone in their right mind thinks that this is the kind of casual encounter you have with a friend. As if he isn't wearing just a towel, and as if his damp hair isn't melting into yours; tangling together to keep you connected.

His nose nudges against yours softly. A silent whisper of penance; comfort only found with you. More fool him for ever thinking he'd ever find it elsewhere.

"I get it now," he whispers. "Shit with Hayun. I get why you didn't give her the time of day, 'cause the second I realised who he was B... Shit. Thought I'd end up with a fuckin restraining order."

You pull back every so slightly. Get his eyes on yours. Tell him, "I'd be furious if you started a fight."

"I know. S'why I didn't."

The gap is closed once more. Your nose softly finds its home next to his. The grip you have on his waist tightens. He's drawn closer. And then your lips delicately press a 'thank you' against his.

"I'd be furious for your sake," you say, as if you didn't kiss him, not a single beat missed. Just like not a beat is missed when he kisses you , now. Gently. Just once. A punctuation mark between your sentences. "He's not worth it."

It's unclear who kisses who next; all that's certain is that it's happening. Neither of you wish to be accountable. You aren't making cognitive choices. Just following the will of your bodies. Aren't thinking all too hard.

But the kisses are hard. Firm. Words dying to be screamed that remain silent. Muffled breaths against each other's cheeks; hands on jawlines, fingers in hair. The intrusion of a tongue, and the welcome of one another. Dignity evades you both.

The friction of the way your bodies move in tandem has his towel loosening, and Jeongguk doesn't care to fix it. He's pressed against you, which stops it from slipping, and your hand is on his ass keeping him exactly where you want him. Ain't no way it's falling.

Not unless you want it to.

"Thought you said we shouldn't," he mumbles as his hands run all over your body, squeezing at your softest parts.

You hum a little noise of satisfaction into his mouth. Pant, as you say, "we aren't."

But then your hands come to the front of his towel. They loosen it fully. Make no attempt to stop it from falling as he manages to pull just a faction away from you. It pools around his feet, leaving him entirely exposed for you - and who are you to decline such an offer?

Hands wrapping around his thick length, you smile as he whines into your lips.

"We are."

"Yeah," you admit. "We are now. Want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, lips still on yours as you wank his shaft for him, slowly. Deeply. "Don't stop. Fuck. Feels so good."

Your grip is weak; dainty little strokes to match his pretty dulcet whines. The apartment is silent, save for the sound of you and Jeongguk, and the illicit encounter of which you're having in his living room.

Curtains wide open, the city could spy, if it cared to - but there's an anonymity that comes with a highrise, and an obscurity that comes with the way your bodies meld into one.

It shouldn't be like this.

Shouldn't be so easy when your heads make it so fucking difficult.

You wish you had restraint. Wish you had more willpower. Wish you were a better friend to a person who's been nothing but good to you - but it's how good Jeongguk is to you that makes you so inclined to thank him in such a way.

There's an aching in his chest that only eases when his brows furrow into kisses you give him; a pained desperation that he's so desperately trying to remedy.

But you've a date next Monday.

The potential for something to grow where there once was nothing but dry dirt. Jeongguk spent months cultivating the right conditions. Preening. Pruning. Making sure your soil was fed the correct nutrients. Watering you.

You're ready now.

And so he pulls away. Shakes his head. "Chess."

Your hands are off him immediately - but there's confusion all over your face. Didn't he say 'don't stop' ? Is this not what he wanted?

"I'm sorry," you blurt out, because this feels so foreign to you. So many times he's reminded you that 'chess is always an option' - but he's the one using it. He's the one who wants to stop. He's the one who doesn't want this. Want you.

Just like he didn't want you when you asked, 'what is this?' in Busan. Just like he didn't want you when you called earlier to ask him if you should say 'yes' to Seojoon.

Strike three. You're out.

"I'm sorry," you say again, a little slower as Jeongguk reaches down for the towel. Doesn't wrap it around his waist. Bundles it over his exposed area, instead. "I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't," he says quickly. Isn't 100% certain what you're about to say, but wants you to know this is a 'him' problem. "I just... B, you've got this date and like - okay, say it continues and goes well. How's he gonna react a few years down the line when he finds out we were still fucking about in the early days?"

I don't care, you think. Selfishly, cruelly, you don't care.

'Cause at the end of the day, you'll never care about Seojoon in the same way you care about Jeongguk. If you were ever made to choose, you wouldn't think twice.

It's shameful, how shameless you are.

Dropping your gaze, you nod. Understand. The way you've been thinking about Jeongguk is clearly not how he's been thinking about you.

It's not like you're in love with him or anything stupid like that - it's just that you think it wouldn't be a horrible fate to endure. In fact, it'd be quite nice to be loved by someone as gentle as Jeongguk. It'd be nice to love them, too.

"Right," you say - because he is right. "Sorry. I... Yeah. Shit. Sorry."

"I should get dressed-"

"Right, yeah. Yeah. Sorry," you say again, because you just can't seem to help yourself.

"Stop," he says. Offers you a smile. Really doesn't want you to fret about it. Just doesn't want you to make bad decisions because of him. "Don't say sorry. Just go get a shower alright? I'll grab you your towel."

All you can do is nod, and do as he says because you're fearful of doing the wrong thing. Scared he'll like you less than he does now; which you already think is less than you like him.

When Jeongguk goes to retrieve the towel, he finds it hard to breathe. His heart heaves and his breathing gets a little stagnated. Tears don't fall, but his lungs tremor as if it wouldn't be an unfathomable consequence.

The ache is back in his chest, and you're not there to remedy it. You're shutting the bathroom door. He hears it. Doesn't hear the lock, but he knows he has a towel to deliver.

Grabbing a pair of boxers, 'cause they're the closest thing to him, Jeongguk covers himself up a little. Just like his chest, his cock is aching. Just like his chest, it'll only feel better if he's with you - but that's simply not an option.

Looking across to his mirror, he slaps his cheek gently. "Get a grip, man."

By the time he makes it to the bathroom, you're already in it. Figure he'll knock, or just leave it by the door.

Small bubbles are scattered all over your body, your desire to rid yourself of skin touched by him overwhelming. The shame doesn't scrub away like you half think it will.

"B?" He calls through. "Can I come in?"

The shower shuts off.

"Yeah."

He's not sure what he's expecting as he presses down on the bathroom door handle. Sort of thinks you'll be shying away. Is right to assume such a thing. You're holding the hand towel over your body, not that it covers much.

Quietly, he's disappointed.

"Here," he smiles, lips pressed tightly together. Holds the bundled-up towel in the air.

"Legend," you smile back. "Thanks."

Job done, there's no need for Jeongguk to linger. He can leave, now. He should leave, now.

"Byeol-"

"Gguk-"

"Enjoy your shower," he says, coming to his senses and leaving immediately. Silently mouths curse words into his living room, 'cause what the fuck is wrong with him?! Why does he not know how to talk to you anymore? Oh it's all so fucked .

In the shower, you decide you have two options on how you deal with Jeongguk.

The first is the expected route; awkwardness, and a little uncertainty. Awful avoidance of communication due to fear of miscommunication.

The second is the opposite; to act right as rain, as if nothing is bothering you.

And given how much you hate the awkwardness, you decide that the second option is it. It has to be it. You spend the rest of your shower thinking it through. Hype yourself up. Rinse and repeat.

And surprisingly, it seems to work.

"Hey," you smile as you eventually enter his room, wrapped in the fluffy towel. Your smile is soft. Airy. Light. If you act like it's no big deal, then it doesn't have to be. "Got a shirt?"

He's just in sweats now. No boxers. Incredibly convenient. Outrageously sexy.

"Yeah," he nods. Sits up and leans over to the shirt discarded on his bedroom floor. It's been worn once. Not enough to be considered dirty, but enough to hold his scent. He tosses it over to you. Keeps his eyes on you as you shake the fabric out.

"Gonna watch me get dressed, you perv?" You tease.

Self-preservation 101. Joke about the things you desire the most.

And he knows he shouldn't, but he shrugs. "Do you want me to?"

And you know you shouldn't, but you say, "Yeah. I do."

"I-" he begins, but stops himself. Sits up a little. Leans forward. Edges further down the bed and reaches for the shirt you're holding. You don't object as he pulls it from your hands. "Don't. Don't put it on."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"So what? You just wanna look at me?" You smirk, utterly confused by him - though his indecision would suggest that he's equally as confused. 

His perplexion doesn't ease when you drop the towel. If anything, it gets even worse.

Cupping your tits, you hold them up a little. Can feel how hard your nipples are; subtle indicators of how badly you wish Jeongguk would just do something.

This time, he nods. "C'mere."

You tilt your head. "Oh? You want me now?"

"Shut up." He rolls his eyes. "Always want you."

"You didn't earlier."

"B," Jeongguk deadpans. Holds his hand out for you - and you take it. Let him pull you up onto the bed. Straddle his lap, like the good girl you so often are for him. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, but fuck it. Wants it - you - too badly to resist. Lets his hands stroke up your bare skin. "I was trying to be good."

You shrug, and Jeongguk marvels at the slight wobble of your chest. Doesn't even bother to hide his obsession. Just wraps his lips around one of your hard nipples and begins to suck.

"But this is good," you tell him, raking your finger through his delicately waved hair. Moan when he gets a little teethy. You like it so much. Can feel your pussy throb - and it's only exacerbated when his fingers slip between your folds. "So good."

He hums in agreement, quickly latching onto your other nipple as he pushes two fingers into you. It's so impossibly easy with you. He sucks your tit further into his mouth. Enjoys it so much more than he ever thought he would. Swears he could cum just by sucking on them for hours.

It's believed that when two stars orbit one another too closely, they begin to spiral. They spin and spin and spin, like a pair of ballerinas. Or Beyblades. Whichever takes your preference.

Jeongguk isn't so sure he's a star.

But he knows you are.

And his head is fucking spinning.

It goes around in circles. Chasing you; running from his feelings. Either, or. Both all at once, possibly.

Your hips rock into the rhythm of his fingers, the build of pleasure coming quickly. Even quicker, when his thumb begins to flick up against your clit.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper.

His spare hand massages at your chest, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You're stimulated in such a way that you know Jeongguk could make you a weepy, moany mess within minutes. It's a skill he's mastered.

He sucks on your nipple for a moment longer, dulcet moans vibrating around you. Pulling away, he presses a dainty kiss to your hardened bud, then toys with it using his tongue. Swipes once, twice. Needs you in his mouth again. Fucking loves tits.

There's a gravitational pull between you both. Spinning and spinning and spinning. Closer and closer and closer.

Hands bunching in his hair, you stop him all rather suddenly. Pull his head back. Look at him with eyes that are full of stars. Warn, "you're gonna make me cum."

"Good," he smirks.

"Bad," you laugh, and holy shit, Jeongguk thinks he might die.

When two orbiting stars finally collide there are two possible outcomes.

One: an even bigger, greater star forming from their merged bodies.

Or two: the weight of their gravity being too strong to sustain anything but nothingness. Better known as a black hole. A void. Something of which Jeongguk fears.

There's a third, less spoken of, possible outcome of two stars merging: the creation of a magnetic field over a trillion times stronger than that of the earth. Short gamma-ray bursts would occur. The most energetic and luminous event known to space and time since the big bang itself.

You've been spiralling with Jeongguk ever since you met him.

It's only natural that when you finally collide, the world will change. Life will be distorted forevermore.

Neutron star collision, or black hole.

Only one thing is for certain: it's inevitable, now.

It will happen.

Naive to any of this, you lean down, damp hair waving around his face. Cup his cheeks. Whisper with a smile against his lips. "So bad, baby."

"Fuck," he whimpers into your kiss. You're not even getting him off, and it feels like he's gonna cum in his fucking sweats. "Oh, fuck, baby."

When he's all pretty and pliant like he is now, you find yourself wanting to fulfil all of his wishes. Remember the little stroppy moans in his brother's bedroom. Decide now is as good a time as any. It really could be the last time you get Jeongguk like this.

And so you'll give him anything he asks for; and then you'll give him more. Give him everything . Let him indulge in what it really could feel like to merge with a star.

Pressing wet kisses up his throat, teeth grazing on his earlobe, you love the way he gets a little giggly. Ticklish. It's cute.

Almost as cute as the way he chokes on his own spit when you say, "let me sit on your face."

He does not need to be asked twice. Lowers himself down the bed to make his face more accessible for you. God, he wants to drown in you. Wants to be covered. Soaked. Wants your excitement dripping down the corners of his mouth and trailing onto his neck. Won't be satisfied until you're screaming. Or creaming. Either or. 'Both' is preferable.

And yet you surprise him. Smirk. Turn. Straddle his waist for a moment, facing towards the end of his bed. Palm his excruciatingly hard cock through his sweats. Giggle as it jerks a little, needing more of your touch.

"Hips up," you say, and he complies. Lets you push his sweats down to his mid-thighs, eyes trained on his cock as it springs free from its restraints. Oh, god, you love it. Never has cock ever looked nicer than his. There's nothing you don't love, especially when it's all engorged and needy like it is now; precum weeping from the pretty, perfect slit on his tip.

Holding him by the base, your other hand gently strokes his balls.

"Fuck," he exhales.

Smiling to yourself, you're pleased. Regret all the time wasted on you over the past few months. Wish you had spent just as long on him. Are aware he probably likes eating ass so much 'cause he likes getting his eaten - and it's all you wanna do, now. Want him whining and whimpering all because of your tongue and a little spit.

For now though, you put your spit to use elsewhere. Let it slowly drip onto the head of his cock. Spread it with your thumb. Wank it down his shaft. Watch the way his legs tense a little, and find great amusement in how his body reacts to you.

"Yeah?" you hum. "You like that?"

Jeongguk just whines. Taps your hip. Tries to encourage you back. "Just sit on my face."

"Ask nicely."

"Please."

You look over your shoulder and raise a brow. "Less attitude. Ask me like you'll never get the chance to ask me again."

Funny, really, how you both feel like it really will be the last time.

And so Jeongguk concedes. Softly rubs his thumb against the pad of your hip. Has fucking stars in his eyes again. "Sit on my face for me, B. C'mon. Let me make you feel good. You know I will. Think I might die if-"

He's cut off by your laughing. Smiles, too.

"See, you don't wanna hear this shit," he says fondly. "Now get on my face you little gremlin."

"Such a romantic."

"I'm not here to romance you," he reminds you both, no matter how much he'd like to. "I'm here to make you cum. So let me."

The grace in which you've been trying to carry yourself with is abandoned. You're laughing, the change in positioning a little awkward. Clambering, would likely be the best way to describe it, but Jeongguk doesn't give a fuck. As soon as your knees are by his ears, his arms are hooked under your thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth.

His tongue immediately laps against you, there's no way to articulate the sensation that runs over your entire body. The stunted, muffled groan of pleasure that vibrates against your cunt is enough to send anyone into orbit. The moans he elicits from your pretty face are unlike anything he's ever heard; as if he hasn't made you come undone more times than he can even remember.

Sinking down, you're pleased to find how well your bodies align. Granted, Jeongguk's got his hips a little raised. Is helping you out - but as soon as your wet tongue circles around his thick head, all sensibility evades him.

"Oh my God," he husks against your pussy, sucking on your clit then switching to rapid flicks of his tongue. Pauses only to say, "suck me off."

It'd be too easy to just give in.

So instead, you gather a little spit in your mouth, slowly stroking his shaft with your palm. He's so big that you can't fully wrap around him, and the visual just makes your pussy throb even more.

His nose is nested against your entrance, nudging ever so gently as his tongue swirls over your clit. He's unaware of the way you're marvelling at him - until he's greeted with a sensation he'd fucking die for.

Spitting on his cock, you coat him in a slick wetness that makes him so much easier to play with. Working your hand up and down his shaft, you're so fucking pleased when he stops eating you out - not because you don't want it. Not at all. Just because you know it means he's struggling to use his fucking brain. It feels too good.

But then he spits, too.

"Fuck."

His tongue delves back between your folds. Sinks into your entrance. Pulls out. Sloppily trails up to your ass. Presses against the tight muscle you know he's been dying to play with.

"Do it, baby," you whisper, kissing up his cock before taking it in your mouth.

You're not sure if it's the permission, or the fact you called him baby, but Jeongguk seems to lose all ability to hold back. He spits, again. Gets you nice and wet. Licks against you. Kisses. Pushes his tongue a little harder against your rim.

The soft dulcet nature of your moan is obscured by the way his hips begin to pulse upwards. Any sense of control you had in this situation is lost. Eradicated. Handed over to him on silver platter as he fucks his cock into your mouth and his tongue into your ass.

Thing is, Jeon Jeongguk is an overachiever. Will make you feel better than anyone ever could. Will fuck you so well that you'll never think of Kim fucking Seokjin ever again. Secure in his position between your cheeks, nuzzling against you like a starved man, Jeongguk moves his hands. One tenderly strokes up your back, while the other comes to rub against your clit.

There's no accuracy, and quite honestly he's a bit overwhelmed. His hips are on autopilot, the sound of him hitting the back of your throat enough to get that spinning head of his absolutely sent into orbit.

And yet it's still fucking perfect. You pull away from his cock, strings of spit keeping you connected, hand wrapped around his base as he continues to fuck into your grip.

"Gguk, I'm gonna cum."

He shakes his head. It feels fucking incredible.

"I am. I'm gonna - fuck. Gguk," you whimper, forehead resting by his hip, totally and utterly succumbing to him. "Don't stop. Please. That's it."

But he shakes his head again. Pulls his hand away from your clit as a small tremor pulses through it. Hands gripping your ass, he pushes you away from himself ever so slightly. Watches as your seeping hole pulses around nothing. It's not an orgasm. Not fully. But it could have been.

The sensation is catastrophic. You wanna curse him out. Tell him he's a prick.

But your eyes are all teary and your body is all weak and feeble, and all you want is Jeongguk to kiss you for hours upon hours. Your soft whimpers have him smiling, his thick cock in desperate need of release, too.

Pulling himself from beneath, Jeongguk comes to lay beside you; head at the end of his bed, feet by the pillows. Your eyes are closed, mascara smudged, glitter sparkling. He laughs when he notices your pathetic little pout. Strokes a little loose hair behind your ear. Smiles even wider when you crack an eye open.

"So fucking mean," you mewl. He nods, and you notice just how soaked his face is. Chin, nose, cheeks. He's covered in you. And you like it. A lot. Kiss him, because you can. Then pout, again. "So you didn't drown?"

Shaking his head, Jeongguk apologises. "I'll make it up to you."

"How so?"

He shrugs. Shuffles down a little. Latches his lips around your nipple all over again. Smears the evidence of your pleasure from his chin to your tits. Sucks harder.

"So good," you mumble, stroking his hair. He really does love this. Loves how much you love it. Loves how nice it always makes him feel. Loves the way you've drawn him out of his comfort zone, only to prove that comfort can be found anywhere with the right person.

And so he makes sure to say, "love your tits so fuckin' much."

Oh, how this satisfies you.

"Still love your ass, too, though," he makes sure to say. "Don't get it twisted. Ass guy."

As his fingers dip to your cunt, his rock-hard cock rests against your thigh, languidly humping up against you. He doesn't even mean to do it. Is just his body. He has no real control.

He sinks a finger into your cunt. Just one. Strokes up against your inner walls. Finds that little section that always makes you whine just a little louder. Rubs it tenderly.

"Right there," you tell him, and immediately regret it.

Yet this time, he doesn't stop.

In fact, his touching gets more intentional.

He sits up. Positions himself between your legs. Continue to fuck just his middle finger in your soaked pussy. And then his other hand is on your clit. Fast. Unrelenting. The complete opposite of what he's doing inside you.

"Fuck."

"Let go," he tells you. "It's okay. Let go. I've got you."

And yet you can't, because you don't trust him not to be an asshole again.

The hand rubbing your clit pulls away. Is replaced by his lips pressing a pretty kiss against it instead.

"C'mon, B," he whispers, lips grazing against your sensitive bud. "Cum for me."

His lips kiss your clit again. Deeper, now. Ends with a flick of his tongue; and then a short, sharp suck.

Before you know it, his fingers are spanking against it.

"Yeah?" he grits as you begin to writhe beneath him. He alternates. Gentle spanks and fast rubs. Sinks a second finger into you. The sound is lewd. Wet. Needy. "You like that, huh?"

The feeling builds from the tip of your toes and top of your head, meeting at a divine union right where his fingers are fucking themselves into you. Jeongguk watches your face briefly, just to make sure you're as pleased as you sound - and fuck it, he knows. Knows that no one else will ever get you like this.

No one else will ever get you like this, because no one else will compare to his magnetic pull. He'll be the one orbiting you. He'll be the one you collide with; the one you merge with. Doesn't give a fuck if you do make a black hole instead of a neutron star, because at least you'll have experienced euphoria together.

After all, what are soulmates if not two halves of the same star?

Your whines are stunted. Caught in your throat as you bite down on your own wrist out of fear of being too loud.

"I got you," Jeongguk grits. Needs this. Needs to know that New Years wasn't a one-off. Needs to know that he knows your body better than anyone. "C'mon gorgeous. Give me what I want."

And it's as if all sense of restraint evades you; chest heaving, hips wriggling, toes pointing. The sensation is too great. Too strong. He's got you. He's got you, he's got you, he's got you. Got you whimpering. Got you cumming. Got your pussy squirting for him.

"Oh, shit. That's it," he almost laughs, but cuts himself off as he replaces his hand with his lips, suctioning around your clit. Just for a moment. For a second. Gets his chin and cheek covered in you as he pulls away. Rubs at your clit again. Spreads the reach of the wetness seeping from you. Soaks his sheets. Dips his head, 'cause fuck , he wants to taste you.

"Gguk," you whimper, the sensation getting almost unbearable.

"More," he just says. "Give me more, baby. Please ."

The sensation is a complex fusion of torture and unadulterated pleasure. He works your pussy until you're spent - and then licks up your folds. Body trembling, you really can't take any more.

Reaching down for him, you encourage him back up. He complies. Lets you nuzzle into his chest as he presses kisses into your hair. You'll have to rewash it, but fuck it. Right now? Couldn't care less.

"You're insane," he praises softly. "So fuckin' perfect. Fuck. Fuck." He laughs. "Shit. Swear you're not actually real sometimes. Just a figment of my imagination."

You laugh now, too. "Life sure would be easier if that were the case."

He supposes you're right - and yet wouldn't have it any other way. "Shower?"

Sleepily, you nod against his chest - and so as he gets up, he simply hoists you over his shoulder. The scream you let out is far from sleepy - and also far from the scream that muffled into his pillows. Spanking your ass just cause he can, he leads you both into the bathroom and sets you down on the counter. Knocks the shower into 'start' mode, and goes to retrieve the towels. Is pleased to find you smiling when he returns.

"Yes?" He questions, but you just shrug.

"Nothing." You hold your hand out - not for his, but for his cock. It's still hard. He hasn't finished - but he does walk straight to your palm. Grunts a little as you squeeze around it.

Your intention had been to just give him a quick hand job. Know that it won't take much to get him there.

For some reason, though, your legs part. You line him up. Nod when he asks, "sure?"

And even though you're tender, and it hurts a little, there's nothing you want more than for Jeongguk to finish inside you.

It really doesn't take much. You're not counting - too busy kissing him through his orgasm - but you're pretty sure it's barely even two minutes. In fact, he might spend even longer just warming himself inside you afterwards.

Doesn't stop kissing you. Not while he's keeping you plugged with his sperm, not when he withdraws, not when he cups your pussy to make sure you don't fucking drip onto his bathroom floor as he leads you both to the shower.

Kisses you while your bodies get wet, and kisses you while you let the conditioner soak into your hair. Kisses you through the rinse, and kisses you even after the water is shut off.

Just kisses and kisses and kisses. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because if he doesn't, he might blurt out something stupid, like "don't go on that date," or even more stupid, like, "I think I'm in love with you."

There'll be no talk of this night in the following morning. No discussion of what the fuck is happening between you - 'cause you've already tried, and Jeongguk is paralysed by his fears more than ever.

Or at least you assume there won't be.

When you're woken to the sound of Jeongguk cursing, still snuggled into his warmth, you shoot up. Look around - then realise exactly what he's making a fuss about.

By his feet, pristine and perfectly folded is an origami bird.

One of his.

You reach over. Unfold it. Read it. Hide the pang of discomfort in your diaphragm as you read it aloud.

" Go speed dating. "

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[invisiblequeen]

For @spacecadet-sims 's Marnie Application: May I present...Braiden Cable-Young?

Name: Braiden Cable

Age: 26

Gender & Sexuality: Cis Gay Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Occupation: Barista

Traits: Cat Lover, Romantic, Fool

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Likes: Orange, Blue, White, Winter Holiday Music, Island Music, Jazz Music, Rock Climbing, Dancing Fitness, Outdoorsy Fashion, Basics Fashion, Streetwear Fashion

Dislikes: Pink, Summer Strut Music, Research And Debate, Robotics, Preppy Fashion

Misc. Facts:

His favorite season is winter because everyone orders hot drinks and the cafe he works at smells more delicious because of it.

He has chronically chapped lips because he keeps forgetting where he puts his chapstick.

He hates that he has a flat ass. He's doing squats every day to change this, but it may just be what it is.

He has a thing for striped socks, even if they don’t match his outfit.

He was able to withstand ONE tattoo on his ankle, but he will never again let a big scary needle near his skin.

He once visited a psychic who predicted his death: hit by meteor.

Bio: "So lemme just say this...I know I'm an idiot. Where I work at, people call me 'Coffee Himbo.' I know. I don't know WHY...my mom never dropped me as a kid, and my dad was a whole scientist...but I could never do the deep calculus stuff, and studying as a kid was brutal. I know just enough to work the cash register, and it really comes through when I gotta measure the servings in the drinks...I can just look at it and know when the right amount of cream is!

But anyway. I know I'm not, like, the sharpest tool in the sheeeeed (singing)--sorry, had to, haha! But I really really like people. I like helping elders across the street. I like carrying grocery bags or strollers up the stairs for neighbors, I like spotting bros in the gym and hyping them up so they know they've got someone on their side, and whenever a girl is into me and i have to tell her i'm gay, I like setting her up with one of my straight or bi friends!

I just like taking care of people, you know? And I just KNOW, more than anything I've ever known, that with a boyfriend, I'd take care of him better than anyone he's been with before. You just gotta give me a chance, man. Whaddaya Say?"

Whaddaya Say?

[devilishdelights]

🌹

You even gave Simeon a little bit of a fright one time, when he was rather… underdressed. 

You two had plans to go out to Cafe Lament, and you had arrived a bit early without realizing how early. You sent a couple texts to Simeon’s phone, then decided to just go see him in person– considering the fact that he could probably buy something worth a thousand grimm off of akuzon in an attempt to reply to you. He seemed to be where you thought he’d be, a blue light emitting from beyond his door. 

In his room, Simeon was deciding on which shirt to wear. A nice, tan cable knit sweater?  Or a sheer teal blouse? Decisions, Decisions…

“HOLY SHI–” 

His eyes widened to saucers, turning and calling out your name. That was you, wasn’t it? You were early, and you sounded distressed. He called out your name again, concerned. Until…

“Oh dear.”

Simeon carefully restored himself to his human form slowly, still studying you– or, what once was you– or, what is you, but in sludge form.

from a silly fic!! poor MC.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Monsters of Rock 1998 Hair Metal / Hard Rock / Arena Rock /Heavy Metal / Pop-Metal

Good lord, this had to have been one of the most heavily advertised albums of all time, man. I don't know how much ad money the Razor & Tie label shelled out for all of their 'As Seen on TV' comps back in the day, but the commercials for Monsters of Rock and Monster Ballads were fucking inescapable throughout the late 90s and early 2000s, especially. Like, you'd be watching something on cable, and the commercial for this album would come on, so then you'd change the channel, and the same commercial would be playing on there too! And then you'd just force yourself to sit through it, and eventually, through repetition, the entire sequence of little song snippets that gets played throughout the ad would become a permanently etched medley inside of your goddamn mind, destined to haunt your soul for the rest of eternity:

🎶Cum on feel the noize, girls rock ya boys…my, my, my, I'm once bitten, twice shy, babe…poison!…*synths from Europe's "The Final Countdown"*…round and round, what comes around goes around, I'll tell you why…she's my cherry pie, cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise…we're not gonna take it, no! we ain't gonna take it…she's only seventeen, seventeen…here I go again on my own…I'm no fool, nobody's fool, nobody's fool…so hold on loosely…🎶

Now, the hair metal era may have been the dumbest and most ridiculous period of mainstream rock that we've ever borne witness to—and it's very difficult for me to think of another commercially successful subgenre in which rank stupidity has been such an inherently defining trait—but thanks to a combination of my own nostalgia for these damn Razor & Tie ads and my sometimes weird and ironic affinity for bad shit, after listening to this album, there is really nothing more that I want to do than hitch a ride back to 1990 so I can live out a super corny fantasy as a badass suburban high school senior who cruises through town in a boxy, red sedan with the windows down as these silly songs blare out of my speakers 😎.

But like I said, I am also under no illusion here; I'm fully cognizant of just how patently absurd so much of this music was. And when it comes to the pinnacle of pure trash, I really don't think anything ever quite managed to top Warrant's signature 1990 anthem, "Cherry Pie," which is obviously on this album. Like, have you heard or thought about this tune recently? It really might be the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history. And as the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history, it has thankfully and, I guess quite fittingly, been memorialized in some way, since…*checks notes*…you can currently go see the pizza box that its lyrics were originally transcribed on at the Hard Rock Cafe in Destin, Florida… 😭.

🎶I scream, you scream, we all scream for her Don't even try, 'cuz you can't ignore her!🎶

Also, Winger's "Seventeen." Yikes; you can probably guess what that one's about! Talk about songs that haven't aged well at all 😩:

🎶She's only seventeen (seventeen) Daddy says she's too young, but she's old enough for me🎶

Yeah… This one's catchy and all, but, um…no. 👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎 Really glad we've finally realized as a society that, at the very least, fully-grown adults singing lustily about minors is a very unacceptable thing to do. I mean, it took way too long for us to get here, but at least we've finally made it to this point, right? And I think "Cherry Pie" is probably about a minor too, by the way, but that's also up for debate 😑.

To be clear, though, not every song on this album is embarrassingly dumb and/or skeevy hair metal. I happen to think Living Colour's alt metal classic, "Cult of Personality," is a genuinely great banger. And I also dig the southern rock smoothness of a song like .38 Special's "Hold On Loosely" too; but most of the rest of these are just pure dunderheaded hair metal classics, and a key, overarching feature of this stuff was just how fucking maximally mindless it all was. It's hard to put a finger on what exactly allowed this madness to spread so widely and flourish for nearly a whole-ass decade in the first place, but thank goodness grunge came along when it did and dethroned this stuff from its perch as rock music's top subgenre in the early 90s, because, seriously, this shit was so excessive and outrageous.

All that being said though, and as good and necessary as grunge was back then, I can't help but imagine what a kick-ass time it would probably be to have almost any one of these Monsters of Rock songs come on at the bar while you and everyone else around you are in a highly intoxicated stupor; like, "Black Hole Sun," "Man in the Box," "Interstate Love Song," "Even Flow," etc., might be total jams in and of themselves, but songs like those are probably not gonna do the same trick as something like Alice Cooper's "Poison" can in that type of situation. I mean, when you're fully committed to annihilating some brain cells, it's good to have music that's way ahead of you in order to accompany your experience, right? 😅

Highlights:

Quiet Riot - "Cum On Feel the Noize" Great White - "Once Bitten Twice Shy" Alice Cooper - "Poison" Europe - "The Final Countdown" Ratt - "Round and Round" Warrant - "Cherry Pie" Whitesnake - "Here I Go Again" Winger - "Seventeen" Living Colour - "Cult of Personality" Twisted Sister - "We're Not Gonna Take It" Judas Priest - "You've Got Another Thing Coming" Cinderella - "Nobody's Fool" .38 Special - "Hold On Loosely" Autograph - "Turn Up the Radio"