#sent me a very nice message warning me that the pieces i bought were all different skin tones and that they

[duskerot]

MY PARTS SHIPPED

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

First date: Seokjin’s POV

kim seokjin x reader warnings; none! words; 2,196 words

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

Seokjin felt like a drink. It was nine o’clock in the morning, so absolutely out of the question, but it didn’t stop him from craving it. Whiskey. Definitely whiskey. Nana’s PA had just been to pick up Arin for the weekend – Thank God. Finally she would be able to spend time with her mom after a month, which he was over the moon about, and selfishly, that meant his date with you could go ahead. Even if he was so nervous he could throw up. 

Work had been a great distraction for the past two days but once he’d woken up this morning the realisation had dawned on him. He was going on a date tonight. His first in a decade. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gone through with it and asked you to dinner. He’d faced his fears, possibly made a fool of himself and shared too much about his personal life in the process, but you hadn’t seemed to mind at all. You were so easy to talk to, it was refreshing. He’d felt brave for the first time in months – years.   But it still didn’t stop him from being on pins as soon as he’d opened his eyes this morning. 

He’d showered early, just after Arin had woken up and then he’d helped her get ready for the day too, allowing her to eat her breakfast in front of the television as he tried to swallow down his bowl of porridge too. It tasted like cardboard – but then again, it might have been his cooking. Misook usually made the food around her, when he wasn’t dining out or ordering take out of course. 

Arin had noticed his strange mood straight away. Obviously. 

“Daddy, what’s wrong with you this morning?” She’d asked, looking over at him warily before hesitating. “I am spending the weekend with mom, right?”

“Of course you are, sweetie” he’d rushed, shaking away the  surge of anger he’d felt. It pained him to know she was always expecting the worst lately. “Your mom just text me to say Jia is on her way.” 

She’d smiled then, her face lighting up and he couldn’t help but match it, his nerves disappearing for a while. That was until he was left all alone, the house now empty and silent. He eyed the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter (where he’d left it after his small nightcap last night) and shook his head. He should drop you a text, just to check in and see if you were still on for tonight. He needed to find out what time to pick you up anyway. He probably should have messaged you the day before, he panicked suddenly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket. Oh well, there was no time for regrets, that’s what his father always said. 

It took him at least ten minutes to figure out what to say. His first draft sounded too cheerful, too false, he was trying way too hard and had added an examination point. His second was too formal, fifteen years of sending business emails back and forth obvious. He settled on something in the middle – he hoped.  

Unknown (9:32am)  Hi Y/N,  It’s Kim Seokjin, Arin’s father. Just wondering if you still want to have dinner tonight? If so, please let me know and I will send through the restaurant details. We can decide on a time for me to pick you up.  Regards, Seokjin 

Only, reading it back after he hit send he began to second guess himself. Of course you knew who he was, his confidence might be lacking a little right now but he knew he wasn’t totally forgettable. What an idiot. Not that he could do much, there was no turning back. He’d committed. 

He busied himself with a bit of Saturday morning cleaning while he waited for your reply, and by that he meant straightening up the pillows he and Arin had been sitting against earlier. When he returned to the kitchen, your message was waiting for him. 

You (9:43am)  Of course, send the details. I trust your taste! 

See, exclamation points suited you. It was cute. He could just imagine you saying it in person, your dazzling smile, maybe that little giggle you’d made a few times on Wednesday. He felt something warm in his chest as he got lost in his thoughts, nerves easing once again. You were excited for tonight, he told himself.   Maybe you were even just as nervous as him possibly… 

He spent yet another few minutes composing his reply. A lot more casual this time, signing off with just his name. He didn’t always text like this, Namjoon could vouch for him, but he didn’t think you were both quite there yet. He wanted to show his best self after all. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to make you like him as much as he liked you. 

Seokjin (9:50am)  The sudden pressure… The restaurant’s name is KIM. I hope you like it. Is 7 alright to pick you up? I made reservations for 7:30.  Seokjin 

In truth, this restaurant was one he co-owned with his brother. Seokchul was the executive chef and they were both very proud of how successful their business venture had become. He knew taking you to such a place might seem like a cop-out – or worse, a brag – but that wasn’t the case at all. He wanted to treat you in a place that meant a lot to him. He could have chosen multiple restaurants, he was a regular at quite a few and could easily get a great table, but see, that did seem like he was showing off and he did not want to give you that impression at all. It was the complete opposite of his personality. KIM was a good choice, he was sure of it, and it helped that his brother didn’t work weekends, so there was no risk of bumping into him. Although, he had let him know about the date (and had begged him not to spill to their mother). 

You (9:52am)  I will. 7 sounds perfect. I’ll send through my address. See you later! 

You followed up with a Google Maps link to your home, and he sent a quick thank you – sans his name this time. With a quick sigh he pocketed his phone again, it was time to get on with his day. He had some paperwork from yesterday to complete by Monday morning so he should probably make a start. He stopped to order a light lunch at midday, ate it as he scrolled through his very limited social media before getting back to it. 

He called it a day around 3pm, a call from his mom interrupting his flow. He spent an hour talking, their weekend phone calls were habitual by now and he enjoyed them immensely.  He loved his father of course, but their conversations mostly revolved around work. Despite stepping down as CEO three years ago, he was still a vital member of the company, and Seokjin continued to consult him at every opportunity and lean on him for support when things got stressful. With his mom, she was the woman he could still be a kid around. They could talk about anything and everything, but for her own benefit he left out his plans for tonight. He knew what she was like, she’d get way too excited and overwhelmed and before long she’d be sobbing down the line while simultaneously asking to meet you. She’d been wanting him to meet someone new for so long, much like Mrs. Shin. It was a surprise the two women weren’t conspiring behind his back. 

No, he’d keep it a secret for now. If things went well tonight, then possibly his mother would get to find out. He wasn’t getting his hopes up though – or at least he was trying not to. 

It was just after four when he got off the phone, too early to start getting ready just yet, so he sat in front of the television and tried to concentrate on a series he’d recently started. (It wasn’t going well. He was on about one episode a week out of a nine season TV show.) It was no use though, the nerves were rearing their ugly head again. 

He decided to choose his outfit. Seokjin wasn’t much of a thinker when it came to fashion, he just grabbed whatever he saw first that morning, but tonight he wanted to at least put some effort in. After much deliberation he decided on a navy two piece paired with a white dress shirt. It wasn’t over the top, he thought, but nice enough to make that impression that was so very important to him. He kept his hair simple. He’d managed to squeeze in a haircut yesterday so it made things easier, but upon closer inspection in the mirror he noticed those pesky grey hairs of his glittering in the sunlight. He grimaced, worried now. He didn’t know your exact age yet, but it was obvious he was a few years older than you. He was no spring chicken, especially with those wrinkles around his eyes. He had been called handsome all his life, no stranger to it, but right now he was dubious. 

He pushed his trivial concerns away and concentrated on the next decision. What car he would take. He didn’t want to go too flash – again with the showing off thing – so the Aston Martin was definitely off the cards. He hadn’t actually driven that one much, going through some sort of so-called midlife crisis when he’d bought it straight after his divorce, so he made a mental note to take it out next weekend. He decided on the Mercedes convertible (roof on, of course). It seemed like a suitable choice, not too flashy at all really. He didn’t want to run the risk of putting you off him or overwhelming you with showy displays. He was well aware of the differences between your lifestyles, not that he cared at all, but it didn’t stop him from understanding. The things that seemed slight to him could very well be enormous for you. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form. 

Shit, on second thoughts maybe his restaurant was a bad idea… 

.

.

Seokjin was always punctual, he prided himself on it, but tonight it made him nervous. He’d said 7 but it had only just gone quarter to. He couldn’t very well stay in the car for fifteen minutes, you’d spot him out the window, so ever so slowly he opened his car door and stepped out, his heart thudding against his ribcage. He was sure he noticed his hand shaking as he closed it behind him. He was such a mess it was embarrassing. 

You lived in a nice little neighbourhood, it seemed quiet, and he admired your pots of flowers in the patch of garden you had as he made his way up the path that led to your front door. He took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, adjusting his suit jacket as he waited for you to open up. It’s fine, Seokjin, he told himself. It’s just dinner. You’ve done much scarier things in your life. Pull yourself together, man. 

A few seconds later the door opened in front of him and you came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I’m fucked, he thought immediately. 

“Hi,“ he forced himself to say as he smiled. He was probably staring but he couldn’t help himself. You looked stunning, your dress deep red in colour and incredibly flattering. His throat felt dry and he swallowed quickly. 

“Hey,” you greeted back. 

“You look beautiful,“ he couldn’t help but awe, hoping he wasn’t stepping out of line with his compliment. 

"Thank you,” you smiled almost shyly. It was adorable. “You look…really good.“ 

He couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that, aware the sound was probably highly unfaltering, but he couldn’t help it. "I’ll take it. Thanks.” He tilted his head to the right then, composing himself. “Are you ready to go? I’m a bit early, I know. Sorry about that." 

He really couldn’t tear himself away from your beauty, but luckily you didn’t seem to notice, busy nodding as you clutched your purse to your side. "I, uh… I would invite you in to kill time but my best friend’s embarrassing.” Your voice raised as you continued, your head turning slightly down the hallway. 

He raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he guessed said best friend was in the house somewhere? He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine.” 

As you stepped forward, a breath of a chuckle slipping from your throat, he moved to the side, outstretching his arm to let you lead the way. You accepted with a brief nod of your head, your gazes catching for a split second. God, you were gorgeous. 

His nerves might have eased a tad, but his heart was still beating just as fast – if not more.  

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[frenchbreads-writing]

If you're not too busy with requests, could I ask for a Enji Todoroki x male reader where Enji adds on to the reader's bad day and he makes up for it somehow? Love your work 😁

Hi y’all it’s been a minute, sorry this took so long I’ve been h*ckin busy lately so I hope this can make up for it a bit<3

I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Todoroki Enji x Male Reader

Words: 2.5k (2,548)

Warning(s): Suggestive themes at the end

Requests: Open

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Waking up, you gently wriggled out of Enji’s arms to get ready for your day of patrol. You quietly got dressed in your hero uniform and packed yours and Enji’s lunch.

You kissed Enji on the forehead before leaving the house, walking to your agency.

The day was nice, the sun was still rising and the light that shone over the horizon reflected beautifully off of shop windows.

There was also a chilling breeze that made you glad you wore extra layers underneath your costume.

The day was beautiful and you had a good feeling for the day ahead of you.

And that good feeling lasted about an hour.

Getting to the agency you were barely able to put your stuff in your locker before you were approached by a sidekick and ushered back out of the building being handed your pager which was buzzing nonstop.

A villain was wrecking a part of the city and you had the means to aid in capturing him.

After that, you were called again and again.

You could barely make it a block before getting a buzz in your pocket.

It was noon and you practically sprinted back to the agency for your lunch break.

You slumped down next to your locker and held your bag.

You couldn’t wait to eat the lunch that Fuyumi had made for you.

You opened your bag and saw your bento box was missing.

It took a moment for the confusion to set in after that you dug around and looking into your locker just to make sure.

You were sure you packed it.

You always triple checked before you left the house and you made sure to place it at the top of your bag this morning, so it guaranteed that it would be the first thing you saw when you opened your pack.

You sighed and closed your bag, hoping whoever took your food would enjoy what Fuyumi had prepared.

A growl from your stomach reminded you that you had a limited time to eat and you had already wasted a lot of time trying to make back to the building in time.

So you stood up and opted to just get a snack from a nearby vending machine.

Just as you finished your snack yet another buzz came from your pocket.

This was going to be a long few hours.

Constantly being pulled in several different directions now with civilians calling out to you in the street for your help you were run ragged.

Now you were sitting in the empty break room getting a much-needed moment of respite from your labor.

Pulling out your phone you thumbed through your contacts before pressing Enji’s number and calling him.

It rang a few times before Enji’s voice came from the other side.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Firefly! How’s it going?”

“(Y/n)? I haven’t heard from you all day are you okay?”

You chuckled.

“Yeah I’m good it’s just been really busy today.”

Even though you tried to hide it, Enji could still hear the tiredness seeping into your voice.

“You could have called and I would’ve come in.”

“Ah, no, today’s your day off I could handle it.”

He opened his mouth to say something when a voice interrupted from your end.

“U-um pardon the intrusion Mr.(H/N) but two sidekicks are physically fighting in the locker rooms and you’re the only hero here right now.”

You let out a sigh.

“Hey, I have to go now, love you.”

Enji didn’t get to respond before the line clicked and the call ended.

He already knew that your agency was being slammed with calls the entire day and if seeing you all day on the news meant anything, it was that you were taking the brunt of it all.

Enji looked down at his phone to see a message from you.

“I’ll be home later tonight to make dinner <3”

He decided that he was going to be a good husband and make dinner.

After all, you did it all the time so how hard can it be?

It was a disaster.

He usually had Fuyumi and more recently you to prepare his meals for him.

He was internally panicking when the sound of the front door slamming shut made him jump.

“Enji, I’m home.”

‘Shit shit shit.’

He didn’t know what to do.

The closer your footsteps got the more he panicked.

“Hey, what’s that—“

You dropped the bags you were holding.

The kitchen was a mess.

He had managed to burn a pot of rice, some meat on the stove were charred a pot of noodles somehow were also burning even though they had been in the water.

Enji expected you to yell at him and scold him for being an idiot.

But instead, you quietly walked over and ushered him out of the way, turning off the flame, and simply dumping all of the unusable food into the trash.

He felt guilty you haven’t even changed out of your hero uniform and you looked so exhausted yet here you are cleaning up his mess as he just stood there.

When the kitchen was left with no trace of Enji’s cooking disaster you wiped your brow and sighed.

“I’ll start dinner when I get out of the shower.”

You walked upstairs without another word leaving Enji alone in the kitchen.

He felt like an idiot.

Instead of helping you feel better he just made it worse.

He looked down at the bags you dropped on the floor.

He stepped closer and kneeled down, opening them revealed that they were full of ingredients for Enji’s favorite kuzumochi.

You came home from a rough day and we’re going to do something to make him happy?

You were the one who needed to be happy not him.

He placed the bags softly on the counter feeling dread in his chest.

After your shower you proceeded to make dinner, now the two of you sat silently at the dinner table.

Enji didn’t know what to say. He already knew how your day went and judging from your expression you didn’t feel like talking.

So he continued to eat glancing at you from time to time.

“I’m finished, I’m going to bed now.”

You stood up and started gathering your dishes.

Enji jumped up.

“I’ll do the dishes.”

You paused and looked at him. The look in his eye told you that he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Okay, goodnight.”

He watched you once again walk away dragging your feet as you went.

He cleaned up the area and washed the dishes before he followed you upstairs.

When he made it to the room you were already fast asleep.

He climbed into bed and held you close.

The next day, you woke up sore but pretty rested. Which was pretty suspicious.

You stretched your stiff limbs until you heard the satisfying crack.

Rolling over, you landed on Enji’s side of the bed.

It was cold.

Of course, he had patrol today.

Speaking of hero duties you looked over at the bedside clock and gasped.

It was 10:30 am.

You jumped up from the bed but your foot got caught on the blanket which sent you sprawling out on the floor.

Cursing, you jumped up and rushed to the restroom and rushed through your morning routine, skipping steps as you went.

You rushed out of the room with your hero costume halfway on and ran down the stairs but halted when you heard something from the kitchen.

Enji should be at his agency and Fuyumi didn’t say anything about coming over.

So you peeked around the corner to see Enji standing at the stove, staring very intently at some eggs cooking on the stove, lips in a pout, and a YouTube tutorial on pause on his phone next to him.

He was also wearing a pink apron that you bought for him that he said he would “Rather die than have to wear.”

You couldn’t help the snort that came out.

Enji turned his head to see you with your phone out and snapping a photo.

He growled but didn’t stop you.

“What’s all this Enji? Also, why aren’t you at the agency?”

He didn’t turn around as he answered you.

“I called in and took another day off. I also did the same for you so you can change out of your costume now.”

You stood there confused.

“Not that I’m not grateful but why did you do that?”

His brow twitched.

“You over-exerted yourself yesterday so it wouldn’t be practical to do that again.”

You went to retort but Enji cut you off.

“Even if you say that you’re fine—“ he narrowed his eyes at you. “—I know better.”

You closed your mouth.

“Now change out of your hero suit or you’re not getting any.”

You wanted to help Enji with finishing the food but he placed his entire hand over your face to silence you.

He ordered you to sit at the table and you refused.

Enji leaned down and whispered in a raspy voice to change and sit.

Now, here you were sitting at the table in your pajamas blushing with a pout.

He walked in and placed a plate in front of you with a hash brown, eggs, and bacon.

He stood there and watched you expectantly.

“It looks good.”

You picked up a fork and took a small piece putting it in your mouth and chewing.

Enji sighed in relief when your face lit up.

“It’s really good Enji!”

You took a larger bite and Enji served himself.

After breakfast, he helped you with chores around the house that he usually wouldn’t do.

You had to monitor him and show him how to do some stuff but he caught on quickly and soon enough he shooed you away and finished everything up himself.

At lunchtime, he helped you prepare the food but he wasn’t allowed near the stove at all.

He was fine with that.

He watched as the day progressed you began to relax more and more.

The crease in your brow disappeared and the tension in your shoulders lessened.

When all of the chores were done, the two of you went out to pick up more stuff for dinner. When you passed by stuff in shops that you liked Enji insisted on buying it.

Even if you refused Enji just said that if you wanted it. Get it.

When you hesitated he just proceeded to grab whatever you were looking at and some other stuff you’ve been eyeing and brought it to the counter and just bought it all.

“Enji, You don’t have to spend money on me!”

He looked at you as he placed the bag in your hand.

“But I want to.”

For the rest of the store trip, he bought anything you were interested in.

What was supposed to be a quick grocery trip turned into a shopping spree.

You knew Enji felt bad for what happened last night and you weren’t mad or anything but you knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t do anything to make it up to you.

Now, the two of you were in bed, bags of stuff on the floor, surrounded by a whole bunch of soft pillows, and blankets. Enji sat behind you massaging your shoulders while watching your favorite show and eating some snacks.

You snuggled closer Enji pressing your back into his chest.

He stopped massaging and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the nape of your neck.

You giggled and turned around, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to his lips before turning back around and continuing to watch the show.

Enji pressed his face into the top of your head smelling the shampoo that you always used.

It was calming and seeing you enjoy yourself as you watched the tv made his guilt from last night go away.

Both of you are usually really busy, so days like this were rare.

“Hey, Enji?”

He lifted his head off of you and hummed.

“You know, if you still feel like making it up to me—“ you turned around to face him. “—I have an idea of what you could do.”

His eyes widened and he sat up straight, listening.

“Anything.”

Enji watched as you stood up from the bed and walk over to one of the bags on the floor.

You rummaged around and took something out holding it behind your back as you stood up.

“You said anything right?”

He nervously nodded wondering what you were planning.

You held up what was in your hands for him to see.

Enji choked on his saliva.

You held up a maid outfit.

His flames roared as his face contorted.

“What in the world is /that/?”

He said through gritted teeth.

You smirked.

“I think you know exactly what this is.”

“I am /not/ wearing that.”

You crossed your arms and pouted at him.

“But you said you would do anything.”

Enji silently cursed himself.

He did say that he would and seeing you pout so cutely he couldn’t resist.

He growled and stood up snatching the outfit and bag from your hands and stomped towards the bathroom.

“I love you!”

He grumbled as he opened the door.

“Be quiet.”

You grinned and sat on the bed.

This was gonna be great.

It’s been 30 minutes since he entered the bathroom.

Around the 15 minute mark, you flopped onto your back.

The sound of the bathroom opening made you perk up.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and sat up on your elbows.

“Finally Enji, what took you so lo—“ When you sat up, your jaw dropped.

Enji stood in the doorway, arms crossed, the maid outfit was nearly bursting at the seams.

The cloth over his chest was stretched taut. Going lower you see his thighs bulged through the thin fabric of the kitty thigh-highs he wore.

But what really caught your eye was the way his too short frilly skirt barely covered anything.

Enji swallowed the lump in his throat as your hungry gaze raked over him.

You motioned him over with your finger.

He walked until he stood right in front of you giving you the perfect view of the lace panties that barely contained what was hidden underneath.

You licked your lips and reached up wrapping your hands around his waist and pulling him on your lap.

The bed dipped from the weight of both of you on the edge.

He rested his weight on his knees as to not crush you and placed his hands on your shoulders to brace himself.

“You look even better than I imagined firefly.”

He looked away face burning brighter.

“Tch, are you happy now?”

You hummed.

“Very.”

Your hand went lower making him shiver.

But he yelped when the sting of your hand coming down on his ass with a loud smack.

He growled at you but you just gave him a sweet smile.

You began massaging his ass gently making him whimper.

“Y-you’re enjoying this too much.”

You chuckled.

“Well, the fun has only just begun.”

Enji shuddered at the look in your eyes and bit his lip.

This was going to be a long night.

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{Tag list} If you want to be added to the tag list, send an ask or look at my pinned post!

@lotsofrandom @your-strangelove @yumeneji @kaiwai @dumbass-calamari  @naonaocat @tamakiwithcrab @delightfulcupquakequeen @brithedemonspawn @chatnoirfangirl1624 @redsharksimp <- Sorry anyone who isn’t tagged properly but I wasn’t able to tag you!

[mostlycompetentwriter]

All In

F/M Pairing: Fem!Reader x Chan x Changbin (SKZ)

Genre: Established Relationship AU

Warnings: Oh. My. The Smut!! Language, alcohol use (minor), and please let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

Word Count: 8.5K

Summary: Where you find yourself quite literally in the middle of Chan and Changbin, your two boyfriends who sometimes fight over what’s best for you.

A/N: Inspired by these asks from a lovely anon: here, here, and here!! Also, nobody on this Earth can tell me that they wouldn’t love to have both Chan and Changbin as their boyfriend.

Tagging @skzwriternet​

There were less than one hundred words to type for your latest freelance assignment, but you were bored with the project - a mundane piece about the effectiveness of self-driving cars.

But you always had two people who could brighten your afternoon, and you just so happened to stumble upon your most recent text conversations with Changbin while scrolling mindlessly through your applications. You smiled at the message you had composed for him, knowing that he wouldn’t take well to your teasing:

To Changbin:

Binnie, I’m wearing the lingerie you bought for me.

You giggled at the obvious flirtation, but you also figured that Changbin was too busy to respond, and you were ready to put your phone away when an unexpected message flashed across the screen.

From Changbin:

Show me.

You swallowed hard at the request. Did he really mean that? Could you sneak away from your writing and snap a few pictures for your boyfriend?

Of course you could. It wouldn’t be the first time that you entertained Changbin’s demands to see you all dressed up for him. And in consideration of the all the nice things he did for you on a regular basis, you could sacrifice a few minutes of writing time to indulge his fantasies.

Plus, since you were home alone, you had no issue taking off your t-shirt and sweatpants, exposing the saucy lingerie you wore underneath - a cute black thong and matching bralette that complimented your figure. It was clearly everything that Changbin loved to see on you according to his preferences, and you experimented with different angles, holding out your phone as your spread your legs across the couch, giving Changbin a perfect view of the tiny piece of fabric cupping your heat.

And after your impromptu photo shoot, you scrolled through the snapped pictures, picking the best ones, and nodding in satisfaction at your careful selections before sending the images to Changbin’s awaiting inbox.

From there, it only took five minutes for him to respond, and you glanced at the delivered message from him and shivered:

From Changbin:

Oh, princess, I’m gonna ruin you.

The message held all sorts of ominous implications, and you made sure to greet Changbin at the door because he was inclined to give you the cold shoulder if you ignored him.

You smiled at him as he removed his coat and tie, allowing him to corner you against the wall, accepting his eager kisses as his hands dug into the meaty part of your thighs. “Come here,” he said, crooking his fingers at you while you proceeded to follow him into the living room like a well-trained dog.

You watched as Changbin took a seat on the couch, patting his lap to show you where he expected you to sit, and you were more than eager to straddle his thick thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as he reconnected your lips. The taste of him was like the literal embodiment of passion, and you were moaning across the seam of his mouth while Changbin hiked your skirt further up your legs, groaning when he spotted a flash of black, hands kneading your ass as he rocked you against his hardening erection. “That’s a pretty sight,” Changbin said, and he connected your lips once more, kissing you with all the romance and care that defined Changbin’s affectionate side. 

It reminded you, however briefly, that Changbin’s demonstrations of love had always stood in stark contradiction to Chan’s rough and aggressive treatment because it was often very difficult to even beg a compliment from your older boyfriend. “Your mind is somewhere else, princess,” Changbin interrupted your thoughts, tapping his fingers against your forehead to bring you back into the moment with him. “What were you thinking about?”

“You, of course,” you told him, running your hands down his shirt-covered chest, feeling the buttons as they crossed your palms.

“Good,” Changbin growled while he managed to successfully tuck your skirt around your delicate waistline, leaving you almost fully exposed where he clearly wanted you the most. “You sent me those pictures in the middle of my meeting,” Changbin continued, and you gasped when one of his fingers defied the barrier of fabric contouring your lower half, sinking into your warm heat with a sudden penetration.

“Changbin,” you whined, burying your face against the spot between his neck and shoulder, moving your hips to fuck yourself down against his finger because it was becoming clear to you that it would be all you were getting from him - a punishment for your earlier actions. “M’ sorry,” you said, breaths coating his skin with a thin sheen of perspiration while you tried to take him further inside, sitting down and enjoying every bit of friction as he scraped his nail against your sensitive walls.

“We’ll see how sorry you are,” Changbin said, latching his lips against the front of your throat to suck the skin between his teeth, determined to leave a mark. 

And you would’ve complained about the red blemish that he was going to leave behind had it not been for the sound of the door opening as your other boyfriend returned home. But he was earlier than you expected, not that it deterred Changbin in the slightest who didn’t even seem to notice that Chan was standing in the entranceway to your shared living room. Eyes narrowed as he took in the scene of you being split apart at the seams.

“You both knew better,” Chan said, and it was an unusual greeting that prompted you into attention, realizing that something was wrong when Chan tossed his expensive leather briefcase onto the counter before rolling up his sleeves - something he only ever did when he was trying to be more intimidating. “Did you forget our plans for tonight?”

You gasped and froze in Changbin’s lap, suddenly feeling every bit like a bolt of electricity had just run through your entire being, switching off your arousal-addled brain even while Changbin seemed to be on a totally different wavelength, adding yet another finger and filling the room with loud squelching sounds. 

It only served to piss off Chan even more, and you squealed when he interrupted Changbin to lift you up beneath your arms, tossing you over his shoulder with your thong-clad ass still on full display. 

“Hey!” Changbin protested, fingers shining with the evidence of what he had just been doing to your poor throbbing pussy.

“You both knew that we had dinner tonight,” Chan called back over his shoulder, and his tone carried an obvious warning. 

But Changbin wouldn’t be the one to suffer the consequences, and you were already dreading whatever Chan had planned when he dumped you unceremoniously onto the mattress in the master bedroom.

“Bend over,” Chan growled, and you whimpered but obeyed him, bracing yourself higher using your forearms for support. His hand twisted itself into your hair, turning your face to the side so that you were forced to look into his eyes. “What do bad girls get, Y/N?” 

“No, Channie,” you whined because the thought of going to this expensive dinner tonight with a sore ass was not high on your list of priorities.

“No?” Chan repeated, and you hated to hear him so furious, landing a hard smack to your backside without any prior warning. “Do you want to try that again?”

“I’m sorry,” you cried, wincing at the sting. “I forgot about the dinner.”

“You forgot?” Chan scoffed, and you knew that you had just dug yourself into an even deeper hole, wrestling against Chan’s hold even as he allowed three more firm hits in quick succession. “Why is that, baby? Did it slip your mind when you were letting Changbin finger-fuck you into oblivion?”

“It’s not her fault,” came a much-needed interruption from the man in question, and Chan turned around with a glare to look at Changbin who had joined the two of you in the bedroom. “I forgot about it too.”

Chan scoffed in disbelief, running a hand over his face with a growl. “Were you both ignoring me for this entire week? Or, did you think I was just making up stories about the dinner that my office was hosting for our big case?”

“Lay off, Chan,” Changbin muttered, and you were only slightly relieved when you felt him soothe his hand across the burning skin of your ass. “We only have an hour before we have to leave.”

You watched as Chan paused, looking at nothing in particular, but it was something Chan always did whenever he had to begrudgingly agree with Changbin, even when it meant interrupting whatever punishment his sadistic mind had concocted for you. Because Chan hated to be interrupted, almost as much as he hated being left out or forgotten. He always made these things into a much bigger deal because he had a rough past where he was frequently neglected and ignored. It manifested itself into bouts of frustration that evolved into situations like this with you hunched over in place, praying that Changbin had gotten through to Chan and your boyfriend would forget all about your stupid mishap.

“Hurry up,” Chan eventually conceded, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he left the bedroom.

Chan was a big, fancy lawyer upstate with a bunch of older partners who had willingly taken him under their wing when he graduated. However, back when you had first met Chan in college, he was much quieter and withdrawn, and you couldn’t even imagine how he would ever become a successful lawyer. But he changed, much like most people do during those formative years.

Chan was a lot more confident in several aspects of his life, including his job and the relationship he had joined with you and Changbin. But you might never get used to how he exerted himself around others, with a degree of self-assuredness that spoke to his accolades. For example, Chan’s introduction of you when one of his colleagues opened the door to their fancy penthouse suite, examining you and Changbin with scrutiny while Chan offered your names and proceeded to make you both seem far more important than you really were...not that Changbin’s office job was anything to be ashamed of, but Chan would really play up the two of you when he was looking to impress.

“Your girlfriend is beautiful,” the man at the door offered, eyeing you with an interest that you didn’t appreciate, especially when Chan tried to tug you away from Changbin and closer to himself....and the pig eyeballing your chest.

Which is why you hesitated, clinging even tighter to Changbin’s arm, but Chan shot you a warning glare, and you reluctantly offered your hand to him which he held in a firm grip. “Hello,” you said to the Senior partner who smiled and forced a wet kiss to the back of your outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” the man continued. “Come inside, we have plenty to drink.”

Chan laughed at the rather unfunny quip, waiting for the older man to head back further inside before turning on you and Changbin. “Behave,” Chan snapped, looking between you and Changbin with a fierce glare. 

“Whatever,” Changbin grumbled, which you could tell that Chan didn’t appreciate, but he withheld the urge to argue.

Instead, Chan led the two of you into the outlandishly decorated penthouse, and you swallowed hard at the appearance of a golden chandelier hanging down from the ceiling - perfectly affluent in every means of the word. “Damn,” Changbin whispered, and you could tell that he was just as impressed as you.

And your open-mouthed wonder of the lavish space persisted throughout the rest of the evening - every time you tasted the sweetest champagne, nibbled on the most extravagant finger foods (caviar???), and indulged in the sweet little chocolates as they passed you on the trays of the smartly-dressed waiters. It was good enough to keep you entertained while Chan flitted from person to person, eventually leaving you and Changbin behind in the living room to go outside onto the balcony and enjoy a pricey cigar with some “very important” people.

Changbin sighed as he caught sight of Chan outside, craning his head back in laughter and smoke exhaled from his nose. “I don’t get why Chan wants to impress all these assholes,” Changbin said, tipping back his champagne to finish off the rest. “That old bastard over there in the corner? He hasn’t stopped looking at your tits since we sat down.”

“Changbin!” you hissed, incredulous that he would say something like that aloud.

“What? I can’t blame him,” he said, eyeing the swell of your breasts with obvious interest. “How fast can I make you cum from playing with your tits if we snuck away into one of the bathrooms, princess?”

“Chan wants us to behave,” you replied, even though you were very much weak for Changbin’s lips wrapped around your sensitive nipples.

“He won’t even notice,” Changbin grumbled. “But at least he’s in a good mood. It’s a nice change from hearing him bitch all the time when he comes home from work.”

“It’s a stressful job,” you tried to defend your older boyfriend, but you and Changbin both knew that Chan was taking the extra work on purpose, hoping it might land him a promotion.

“You hate it just as much as I do,” Changbin argued, snatching another flute of champagne from a startled waiter, downing the contents in two sips.

“It makes him happy,” you said, shrugging while playing with the hem of your dress - an adorable satin present from Chan for your birthday this past year.

“So, we can’t be happy?” Changbin asked, and it was a fair question considering the amount of arguing that your boyfriends had been doing for the past several months. Everything from serious issues like buying a new apartment, to something as inconsequential as the quality of your kitchen silverware.

“This promotion thing can’t last forever,” you pointed out, ever one to be optimistic even when things seemed less than ideal.

“I just want to get out of these clothes,” Changbin complained, pinching at the tight material hugging his thighs. “I wear suits to work everyday, and I hate being forced to keep them on for shit like this.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to take it off for you when we get home,” you purred into Changbin’s ear, brushing your nose across the lobe.

“You better keep that promise,” Changbin growled in return, and you were thrilled by the look of lust in his gaze. Even more so when Chan finally returned to you both with a bright smile and glossed-over eyes, clearly the result of too much alcohol.

“Ready to leave?” he asked you both, and you had never seen Changbin more impatient to escape a party.

Once you were home, it didn’t take much to convince your boys to join you in the master bedroom - a few stray touches over clothes, whispered filtrations, and a quick flash of the expensive lingerie you wore underneath your dress before you found yourself kneeling between them on the bed.

Changbin had taken the initiative, kissing you like he was picking back up from where the two of you had left off from earlier that afternoon. And with some convincing, Chan agreed to share you tonight. Even though he still seemed grumpy about the fact that he couldn’t have you all to himself, but you were just glad that Chan was in a better mood, mouthing at your neck while Changbin unzipped your dress and drug it down your spine with his fingertips following the same direction.

“So good for us, princess,” Changbin said, taking a moment to look at you while Chan groped at your breasts through the thin material of your bra, nodding furiously when Changbin unlatched it from the back.

You allowed it to fall down your arms, leaving your entire upper half completely bare while you let Changbin drag you down onto the bed so that you were lying on your back with Chan dragging your panties down your legs. And Changbin had wrapped his arms around your torso, thumbs circling your nipples while he held you in an upright position, touching his lips against your shoulders.

“You made a mess, baby,” Chan remarked, and he spread your legs wide so that he could fuck into you with a grunt, starting an urgent pace from the second the head of his cock split your tight walls around him. 

“Oh!” you gasped, loving the rough handling from the very start, feeling yourself press back against Changbin with every thrust, nipples brushing across Chan’s abdomen as he held himself over you. 

It was pure heaven to be trapped between these two men, strong arms adjusting you to their liking, and thick cocks reaching places inside of you that had never been accessed before. 

“Does he feel good?” Changbin asked you, collecting the tears streaming down your face as you savored the glide of Chan’s cock between your folds. 

“Yes,” you managed between moans, reaching down to knot your fingers through Chan’s curls while your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, holding on for dear life as he used you to get himself off as quick as possible, cum dripping down onto the blankets underneath you.

And you came at the same time as your boyfriend, gasping for breath as Chan pulled out with a groan, supporting himself back against one of your pillows while Changbin brought you into his lap for his gentle touches, kissing the wet skin under your eyes and patiently waiting for your permission before he took his turn. 

Oh, but you never minded these nights when your boyfriends were compliant enough to share you, taking their turn fucking you until you were barely coherent. 

“Changbin,” you whispered to him, reaching down for his hard cock and giving his thick erection several strokes before guiding the tip to your entrance. 

“Green?” Changbin asked, checking in with your colors because he was always so considerate whenever the three of you had sex.

“Green,” you confirmed, and he was using raw power to lift you off his lap, biceps straining, moving you up and down his cock without any resistance.

“Oh, fuck, princess,” Changbin groaned, looking down at the place where his cock disappeared inside your pussy with longing. “Even after Chan fucked you...how can you be this tight?”

You whined at the comment, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he powered his cock between your pulsing walls, swallowing his cock and urging him to take you even deeper, kissing the head of your cervix with a delightful prod of his tip.

Changbin was built so strong - after all, he worked out every afternoon - but it was almost ridiculous how easily he handled you, forcing you along his cock with complete ease...like you weighed absolutely nothing. But it was unbelievably hot, and you could feel your thighs straining with the effort of holding yourself up in place, even if he was doing most of the work.

But he was hitting all your best spots from this angle, and you had almost blacked out after Changbin started furiously stroking your clit, sending you into another high that pushed your head right through the clouds. 

His cum joined Chan’s inside your sore pussy, and you could feel him softening despite the fact that your walls were still milking him for everything you could get.

“Greedy pussy,” Changbin panted, and you were almost proud of the fact that he looked just as exhausted as you did from your insane round of sex.

You were still breathing hard after your second orgasm of the night when you could feel the bed shift as Chan’s fingers dug into your hips, trying to force you away from Changbin. You whined in complaint because you weren’t quite ready for another round, squirming away from Chan and burying yourself even closer to Changbin’s warm chest.

Chan growled at your aversion, and you hesitantly glanced back over his shoulder to see that he wasn’t very happy with your unwillingness to let him have his next turn. “Gentle,” Changbin chided, and you whimpered when Chan’s strength won out and he manhandled you onto all fours, mounting you from behind before fucking his cock back inside without waiting for your compliance.

“Yellow, Chan,” you said, hoping that he would slow down, but it only seemed to spur Chan on even more, and he was practically bending you in half, pressing down on your lower back as his hips slammed against yours with every thrust.

“Stop,” Changbin snapped, and he shoved against Chan’s shoulder who wasn’t expecting the sudden weight, falling back onto the bed as his cock slipped free. “You’re being too rough,” Changbin said, and his eyes were narrowed at Chan as he pulled you closer, wrapping you into his arms and shushing your whimpers.

But Chan was even more pissed at Changbin’s interference, and you could only imagine the nasty look on his face as he spoke up from the opposite side of the bed. “You coddle her too much,” Chan said. “I know our limits.”

“Really?” Changbin snorted. “What kind of world do you live in where yellow means faster?”

“I would’ve stopped if she asked me to,” Chan said, and you were panicking on the inside because this sounded like the beginnings of another infamous fight between Chan and Changbin, and the two men were both stubborn and proud which meant that they could hold a grudge for weeks after an argument.

“Fuck, you just let her get away with whatever she wants,” Chan huffed. “She needs discipline!”

“She needs affection!”

“What the hell ever,” Chan snapped, and you watched him from the corner of your eye as he snatched his boxer shorts from the ground. “I can’t stand to look at you anymore tonight.”

“Good, maybe Y/N can have some peace without your negligent ass in the same room,” Changbin said, frowning when Chan shot him the middle finger over his shoulder on the way out, slamming the door to the bedroom closed with enough force to shake the entire apartment.

It wasn’t the first time that Chan and Changbin had fought with each other, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t give you any solace in the present, especially when fights between your boyfriends meant that your time was increasingly monopolized towards making sure that they didn’t do anything they might regret.

Of course, coming home after lunch with a friend, you weren’t expecting the detailed spreadsheet taped to the door of the master bedroom where you had been hoping to take a much-needed nap. “This is new,” you sighed, studying the worksheet outside the bedroom where a strict schedule dictated which of your two boyfriends would be sleeping with you - probably a product of Chan’s analytical brain.

On most occasions, whoever happened to fall asleep first would end up sleeping next to you in the bedroom, which had lately been Changbin because Chan often stayed up late to finish his work. However, given Chan’s competitive edge, you had a feeling that the two fought over this as well, resulting in the strict schedule that they would just expect you to accept.

“Chan!” you yelled, snatching the paper from the door while trying to track down your boyfriend. 

You walked out into the living room, discovering Changbin standing next to the large sliding glass door which led outside to the veranda - glass of wine in hand. “Probably in his office,” Changbin muttered. “He’s had a stick up his ass all day.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you thought you had gotten used to Changbin’s dramatics. “Are you really drinking before noon?”

“I needed it,” Changbin whined, holding out an arm so that you could slide into place next to his side, snuggled against his broad chest. “I think it’s fine to celebrate a day off from work with wine.”

“Let me taste,” you said, allowing Changbin to tilt the glass against your lips, swallowing down the grape-flavored liquid, until the sight of Chan walking around the corner had you choking around your mouthful.

“Careful, princess,” Changbin chuckled, frowning when he met Chan’s gaze.

“You called me,” Chan said, holding a bag in one hand, and using the other to snatch you away from Changbin, pulling you down onto his lap on the couch as he kissed you fiercely, keeping Changbin within his sights.

“Yeah,” you said, gasping for breath when you were forced to part from him. “I found this on the door?”

You held up the spreadsheet, arching one brow in question, but Chan merely shrugged and ignored the piece of paper as he reached into his pocket for something. “Look what I got you,” Chan said, opening the velvet box to reveal a gorgeous diamond necklace inside.

“Channie,” you whined, allowing him to fuss with the clasp as he hooked it around your neck, letting the diamond fall against your collarbone. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” Chan asked, pulling you even closer when Changbin sat down his wine glass on the side table. “I wanted to do something nice for you, baby.”

Oh, so this was the version of Chan you were getting? The one who demanded all of your attention in a petty attempt to keep you away from Changbin. Too bad your younger boyfriend didn’t get the message, looming over the two of you as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you done?” Changbin asked. “We had an agreement.”

“Duh, I’m not an idiot,” Chan snarked, keeping a smile on for you even as his shoulders tensed in anticipation of another brush with Changbin. “I’m with Y/N right now.”

“But it’s my night!” Changbin argued, and you felt like the metaphorical toy animal being torn in half by two less than willing siblings.

“The fucking sun is still up, smartass,” Chan said, sneering at Changbin as he dug his fingernails into your hips - a possessive gesture.

“You’re the one who thought making that stupid schedule would fix everything,” Changbin returned. “Y/N is mine!!”

“Boys!” you finally shouted, startling both of them as you forced yourself from Chan’s lap. “We’re not going to start this shit again, okay? I hate it when you both do this to me!”

“Princess..” Changbin whined, but his refusal to see reason wasn’t stopping your tirade, putting your foot down and ending this stupid argument before it got even worse - and it always did before there was any chance of it getting better. 

“No, Changbin,” you said, keeping your tone stern. “Last night was everyone’s fault. We know better than to just walk out without communicating - you both agreed to talk to each other whenever you disagreed on something. And I’m not just gonna sit here this time and watch you two treat each other like shit until someone breaks down to apologize! This fight is pointless, and I’m not about to let the two of you dictate my time because you can’t get along! Fix this shit now or you both sleep in the living room!”

You exhaled loudly at the end, taking deep breaths because you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so agitated. But that’s what your boyfriends brought out of you in situations like this, and you left them behind to work whatever problems they had between each other before barricading yourself in the bedroom with a cold bottle of water and some ibuprofen.

You didn’t cry over them this time; after all, plenty of their arguments in the past had driven you to tears and you were tired of it. Instead, you ruminated in silence, staring up at the ceiling of the master bedroom while waiting for the day’s exhaustion to finally catch-up to you.

However, you certainly didn’t anticipate a knocking at the door, followed by the sudden penetration of light from outside as Chan and Changbin both entered the bedroom while wearing matching looks of shame. “We’re sorry, princess,” Changbin said, keeping his head down as Chan sighed.

“You’re right about us fighting,” Chan said, and he walked over to the edge of the bed, brushing his fingers across your arm. “We talked about it, and we both know that it was a stupid fight. You didn’t deserve to put up with our mess.”

You snorted in agreement, patting the bed on either side of you as Chan and Chan eagerly snuggled against you from both sides, even if it was a tight fit on your queen-sized mattress. “S’ okay,” you said, allowing them both a kiss. “I went overboard too.”

“Not as much as us,” Changbin said, and his hand was gripping tightly to one of yours. 

“I’m used to your fights,” you said. “I just wish they wouldn’t happen.”

Changbin whined while Chan sat up a little to look down into your eyes. “You’re right, baby, and we’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Maybe even right now,” Changbin said, and his fingers teased the hem of your nightgown. “I think Chan and I can prove to you that we know how to play together.”

“I don’t know...” you trailed off, knowing full well you would eventually relent, especially once they started touching you - Changbin skimming his fingers across your thighs while Chan found your clit between the silky fabric of your gown. “Do you want me from both ends?” you asked, and you could tell that they both liked that idea.

“Let’s make sure you’re ready for us, princess,” Changbin said, and you moaned when his fingers disappeared under your gown to fill your pussy so well, working on stretching you for his impossible girth.

“Good boy,” you said, just to see Changbin blush while Chan worked hard to remove his clothes, fisting his cock as you let them both move you into position, helping Chan kneel down in front of you so that you could wrap your lips around his cock, tasting the precum already beaded on the tip.

Chan threw his head back with a groan as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, trying to ignore Changbin from behind you as he opened the bottle of lube, applying a liberal amount to his fingers before inserting his fingers again, moving along the walls of your tight cunt. 

“I love your mouth, baby,” Chan said, staring down at where you were hollowing your cheeks, taking him so well as the tip of his cock repeatedly hit the back of your throat. You tried not to gag, even as saliva pooled from around your lips, dripping down your chin and Chan’s cock.

“Are you ready for me?” Changbin asked, and you whimpered when Changbin’s cock penetrated you as you sunk down on him, groaning as his thickness stretched you to the point where you felt like he was in your stomach.

Chan was surprisingly gentle as he waited for you to adjust, only moving his hips at the same time as Changbin, and the three of you fell into a rhythm: once Changbin thrust his cock into you, Chan pulled you even further down his own erection, stuffing your mouth to the point where you couldn’t even hear yourself moan.

They used you like you were pliable, simply existing to satisfy them as you moved back and forth between the two men you loved. “You like this, don’t you, princess?” Changbin asked, grunting low in his chest as he started to pick up the pace, making it even harder to handle Chan’s full length in your mouth, sucking on his pulsating erection like your entire life depended on it. 

“She does,” Chan replied for you, since your mouth was full of him, but you could tell that he was close, supporting yourself against his thighs as you waited for him to spill down your throat.

“Touch her clit,” Changbin said, holding your hips to help piston his cock at just the right angle, and you were barely coherent when Chan instantly obeyed - bringing his thumb down to rub circles on the little bud that always brought you the most pleasure.

Full at both ends, with your clit and g-spot being stimulated just right, you were barely hanging on by a thread. But you didn’t want to cum first; thankfully, Chan came just before you failed to keep yourself together, emptying his release down your sore throat before focusing entirely on getting you off. And when Chan was determined to do something, he was always successful.

“Channie!” you cried, reaching a bombastic orgasm that had you nearly blacking out because Chan was still working your clit while Changbin continued to pound your little ass, working himself to fill you up with his cum.

“Changbin,” you gasped, trying to hold on so that he could release where he wanted, and it only took a few more pumps of his hips before his cum was filling you to the brim, leaking down your thighs as soon as Changbin pulled himself free, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“Fuck that was amazing,” Changbin said, and both he and Chan helped clean you up before holding you as best they could between one another on your too-small bed, but the lack of space did nothing to deter the fact that it still was the best aftercare you had ever experienced. 

But here’s one argument you could prevent in the future: who gets to sleep with you at night without forcing everyone to deal with a cramped space.

After your night of passionate lovemaking, you convinced Chan and Changbin that it was time to invest in a bed big enough for all three of you to share at night. Which is why you found yourself in the middle of a furniture store, perusing the endless options while Changbin quipped about the music selection playing overhead.

“What about this one?” you gasped, falling in love with the mahogany-colored wood frame, running your hand along the smooth surface before falling down onto the mattress, giggling when Changbin joined you.

Chan sighed as he scrutinized the display sign while you and Changbin rolled onto the bed together, stretching out your limbs because the king-sized mattress was enormous! “It’s amazing,” you continued, trying not to scream when Changbin started to dig his fingers in your sides playfully.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out of here,” Chan said, ever the responsible adult between the three of you.

“Well, we have to see if it works,” you pointed out, patting the space behind you as Chan rolled his eyes but crawled in next to you, warming you from behind while Changbin nuzzled into your neck. “This feels nice,” you said, allowing your boyfriends to spoon you from both sides.

“I like it too,” Changbin commented, smooching a kiss across your lips when you weren’t expecting it, whining because it was wet and messy.

“It’s a little out of our price range...” Chan ventured, but all you had to do was turn to look at him with your best pleading expression, and he was breaking down with a muttered curse while reaching for his wallet.

The next morning, you woke-up with Changbin holding you from behind, frowning when you realized that Chan must’ve stayed up late to finish his cases.

It defeated the purpose of waking up together, but at least you had fallen asleep with both of your boyfriends, and that was as fine of a start as any you could imagine. Hopefully, when Chan managed to calm down at work, you could enjoy those mornings you were imagining, smiling at both Changbin and Chan as you exchanged kisses and cuddles under the warm blankets.

“Mmm,” Changbin hummed from behind you, squeezing your waist while trying to open his eyes. “What time is it?”

“9,” you said, pecking his nose as he reluctantly let go of you, realizing that he had to be at work soon.

“Shower with me?” Changbin asked, and you hardly needed any convincing to join your muscular boyfriend underneath the warm pressure of the water, allowing him to run a bar of soap over your body, lingering around your breasts and the needy heat between your legs.

Afterward, the two of you walked into the kitchen together, and you discovered that Chan was already waiting with breakfast displayed on your finest plates. He watched you both as Changbin sat down at the table first so that he could perch you on his lap, holding you close while reaching for one of the croissants from the center basket. He started breaking off little pieces, bringing them up to your mouth to feed you while Chan seethed at the affectionate display.

“You’re being too nice,” you commented, allowing him a single kiss before he continued to dote on you, ignoring Chan who was mumbling about how there was a perfectly fine chair that you could sit on.

“Anything for my princess,” Changbin said, and you sighed because it was incredibly cheesy, but that was an endearing part of Changbin’s flirtations.

“Thank you, Binnie,” you said, puckering your lips for another kiss while you heard Chan muttering a curse from across the table. “Shall I clean up?” you asked once both men had their fill, grabbing the dirty dishes and carrying them over to the sink so that you could take care of them later.

In the meantime, you thought it might be nice to sit with your boyfriends for a while before they left for work, but you soon realized that a pleasant conversation was the last thing on Chan’s mind. And you gasped when Chan turned you around, bending you over the table and pulling your panties down your legs, spreading your thighs with his feet as he worked on his belt.

Changbin simply smirked at Chan’s actions, reading over the newspaper that he had stolen from Chan while sipping at his coffee - like it was just another casual morning in your shared household.

Perhaps it was true, but you couldn’t help the first moan that slipped free from your lips when his cock filled you with a pleasant stretch. “How does that feel, baby?” Chan asked taunting you with little rolls of his hips that were far too teasing for your liking.

“Faster,” you begged him, and he seemed to be in one of those moods where he ignored what you wanted, pulling out slowly and repeating the sensual motions over and over again at a snail’s pace, keeping you just dangling from what would drive you to the edge. 

But Chan was being petty after putting up with Changbin’s doting, refusing to just give-in and pound you onto his cock like you knew he could. Instead, you could tell that he was punishing you for not sitting at the table earlier, forcing him to watch you swoon over Changbin. And jealous Chan was a greedy lover, which meant that every time Changbin so much as glanced in your direction, Chan was trying to shield your body from his gaze, burying his face into the side of your neck as his cock stroked your insides so well.

“Don’t get cum on the floor,” Changbin said, peeking at you from over the top of the paper. “It’s hard to clean.”

It was a throwaway comment, but Chan didn’t take well to Changbin’s interruption, and he started moving even faster, forcing more moans to leave your lips as he started hitting your g-spot perfectly on every thrust. “Like you haven’t done it before,” Chan growled in return, hands holding your hips so tight as he pummeled you against the table, bruising your hips on each stroke that forced you to collide with the rough wood.

It felt so good, even the pain from his touch and the table, and the added stimulation of Chan’s fingers moving messily around your clit - everything was guiding you by a string to the precipice. And you were more than willing to follow that string to the end, falling off the edge with an explosion of ecstasy, coming around Chan's cock with a stuttered gasp of his name. 

Your boyfriend grunted when you squeezed his cock so good, lips pressing against the back of your neck as he came inside, and you both remained in that position for a few moments longer, savoring the delicious release, until Changbin slammed down the newspaper and stood up to get you both a towel.

The remainder of the day progressed uneventfully, and you were still preoccupied with your freelance work by the time your boyfriends came home.

Chan must’ve went straight to the office, but you followed your nose to Chanbin who was standing in the kitchen over the stove. “Are you cooking tonight?” you asked Changbin, leaning into his weight as he smiled and offered you a gentle peck in return.

“Well, it was supposed to be Chan’s night, but I didn’t want to bother him when he got home,” Changbin explained.

“He must be in a bad mood,” you remarked, keeping yourself perched on the counter-top next to Changbin as he grilled.

“Go check on him,” Changbin suggested, giving your ass a teasing slap when you hopped down from the counter.

But it was far too quiet when you stood outside of the office, holding your breath once you knocked and received no response.

“Chan?” you asked, opening the door to the office so that you could step inside the room.

You frowned when you discovered that Chan was sitting at his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen as his fingers made a mess of his curly locks. “Are you okay?” you asked him, and the sound of your voice interrupted whatever strange reverie he must’ve been locked inside.

But the look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. “What did I say about interrupting me while I’m working?” Chan growled, forcing you to bend over his lap as he pulled up the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your ass to him. 

“Chan...”

“Y/N,” he replied, and you relaxed when you realized that his tone wasn’t angry - he was just looking for a way to relieve his frustration.

“I’m sorry I came in here,” you said, playing along with his charade.

“It’s too late for apologies,” Chan said. “How many do you think you deserve?”

“Ten?” you asked, wincing when Chan hummed in response and started to rub his hand over your ass.

“I think that’s sufficient,” he agreed before giving you the first slap - a sharp stinging pain that went straight to the wet arousal decorating the front of your panties. “Make sure you count for me.”

“One,” you whispered, closing your eyes and relishing the closeness to your boyfriend’s evident excitement - erection already straining through his jeans.

“Good girl,” Chan said, and the next three hits were much harder than the first, filling the room with the sound of skin-on-skin and your stuttered counting, gritting your teeth through the pain laced with something erotic.

You wondered if Changbin was curious about your absence, or if he just assumed that something like this would happen: you stretched out across Chan’s lap, his cock digging into your stomach, while he imprinted his hand across your ass. 

“Ten,” you eventually exhaled, sucking in a sharp breath when Chan grabbed you by your hair, curling his fingers through the strands while forcing your head to look at him, colliding your lips together in a messy exchange of tongue and teeth.

“Look at you,” Chan said when you broke apart for air, hoisting you higher on his lap to bring your back against his chest, shoving his hand down the front of your panties to run his fingers through your wet folds.

“Right there,” you gasped when he inserted an index finger to the knuckle, using his thumb to canvas rough patterns of circles against your throbbing clitoris.

“I’ll finish you off, baby,” Chan growled into your ear. “But I expect you to return the favor.”

“I will, Channie,” you promised him, whining when he pulled his fingers from your panties, gripping you beneath your underarms to help you turn around on his lap.

“At the same time,” he said, reaching down to unbuckle his pants and free his engorged length. 

You moaned when he held himself at the base of his erection, rubbing his tip against your clit, stroking himself with a tight fist while you used one hand to ground yourself against his shoulder. 

Eventually, you took over from him, pleasuring his cock so that he could return his attention to your needy cunt, inserting two fingers this time and giving your clit the pressure you needed to cum spiraling out of control, dropping your head against his chest as you finished him off - feeling his release drip down your hand.

“Y/N,” Chan grunted, and you managed to look at him when he kissed you again - something sweet and soft that melted you. Because kisses like this were rare from Chan, and you figured it had something to do with the fact that Changbin wasn’t around to tease him. 

“I think dinner will be ready soon,” you whispered against him, leaning back to offer him a smile since the one you received in return reached every warm part inside of you.

When you and Chan emerged from the office, Changbin made a grand ceremony out of his latest concoction - some kind of stew that was meant to be really healthy.

But the smell was questionable, and Chan grimaced after his first bite. “Uh, what the hell is this supposed to be?”

“You don’t like it?” Changbin asked, looking at you for a second opinion, and you forced a smile while taking another bite.

“It’s good, Binnie,” you reassured him, and Chan frowned at your blatant lie while Changbin smirked in that self-satisfying way of his that always promised a good time for you later on.

Still, the three of you managed to have an amiable dinner, talking about everything from Chan’s work to your latest freelance projects. There was a good atmosphere following the end of your meal, and you promised Changbin that you would help him clean-up, following him into the kitchen with a smirk.

You both started on the dishes together, but you made sure to tease him at every opportunity, brushing your hands and fingers together when he handed you a plate, or rubbing your chest against his back whenever you walked between the counters.

Eventually, Changbin gave-up on his practiced indifference, looking at you with a playful gaze. “Is there something you want?” Changbin asked, and you didn’t even need to say anything as you dropped down onto your knees in front of him. “Did you like dinner that much?” Changbin chuckled, but you ignored him while working down the zipper of his jeans, reaching inside for his half-hard cock before giving yourself a taste of his beading precum.

Changbin inhaled at the first touch of pleasure, bracing his arms back against the counter while he watched you work your magic with hooded eyes. “Was this your plan all along, princess?” he asked, but you knew that Changbin was a big talker whenever it came to one of your legendary blowjobs, and you continued to ignore him while taking as much of his girthy length as you could manage, feeling your lips part around him as you relaxed your jaw and throat.

“Can I takeover?” Changbin asked, and you gave a quick nod before one of his hands was coming down to grab your hair, thrusting his hips to force the rest of his length into your warm mouth, forcing you to gag at the sudden intrusion. “So good,” Changbin whispered, throwing back his head with a moan. 

It made you feel good too - knowing that Changbin was taking so much pleasure from your mouth, tongue tracing the slit at his tip because you knew that he was extra sensitive there. And Changbin reacted just as you thought he would - growling out your name as he lost all control and jerked his hips back and forth to get the most out of what you were offering to him.

You would have a killer sore throat in the morning, but it was worth it to see the blissed-out look on Changbin’s face, watching him cum with a mumbled curse around your name.

“I guess I’ll have to cook more often,” Changbin remarked, pulling you up onto your feet to kiss away your tears.

Later on, you sat between your sated boyfriends on the couch, watching some sort of Christmas movie on TV while disregarding the popcorn that Chan had made.

But your eyes were starting to grow heavier, leaning more of your weight against Changbin as you tried not to fall asleep. It was starting to get late, and you knew that Chan had noticed the signs of your exhaustion when he turned to look at you for a moment before looking back at the film. “Bed, Y/N,” Chan said, still staring at the TV and ignoring the way you cuddled even closer to Changbin.

“She can stay up until the movie ends,” Changbin said, carding his fingers through your hair.

“She’ll feel like shit when she wakes up early in the morning,” Chan retorted.

You frowned when you sensed another argument between them. “Let’s have a bath together,” you suggested, breathing a sigh of relief when they both reluctantly agreed.

“But then you’re going to bed,” Chan inserted, and you rolled your eyes but agreed with him.

It was just Chan’s way of looking after you, and the three of you walked to the bathroom together, Chan working on getting the water to the perfect temperature while you and Changbin made a big show of taking off the other’s clothes, running your hands across bare skin and kissing him with tired eyes.

“Go ahead,” Chan said, starting to remove his own shirt and pants while Changbin sunk down beneath the water first with a groan, holding out his hand for you.

“Thank you, Binnie,” you said, feeling nothing short of affectionate as you offered him another kiss before you sensed Chan making himself comfortable behind you.

You squealed when Chan wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest while Changbin reached for your discarded razor from the sink, supporting one leg against the tile while he started to run the blade across the expanse of your skin. 

“Comfortable, princess?” Changbin asked, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“We should do this more often,” you said, smiling when Chan started to massage some of your shampoo into your hair.

“But not too late,” Chan reminded you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by him; after all, he was only trying to take care of you - they both were - and you could think of no better ending to a chaotic afternoon than the situation you found yourself in - enjoying the presence of both your boyfriends as they showed you just how much they loved you. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

man’s world ~ harley quinn;birds of prey

word count: 1965

request?: no

description: every bad guy in town is after harley quinn after the announcement of her breakup with the joker, but harley is about to make a very powerful friend to have on her side

pairing: harley quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of murder

masterlist

There was no need in counting the money given to me. I could tell by the size of the tack that it wasn’t enough. “You stiffed me again.”

Roman rolled his eyes at me. “I told you I’d pay for a clean kill, that wasn’t a clean kill. You’re lucky I paid you at all.”

“What do you mean? How can a kill be any cleaner than arsenic poisoning? I even framed that chemist guy that had a grudge against the target, it’ll never be traced back to you.”

“Sorry, did I say clean? I meant I wanted a messy murder. Your plan was smart, but I love the theatrics of it all. Next time, I want a show.”

I rolled my eyes and started to walk away. I really wished I could find a new employer. Roma was the absolute worst boss. He was an asshole misogynist that overworked and underpaid me. But he had a lot of leverage on me, what with me being his hitwoman and all, so until I could find a new employer, I was basically bound to Roman.

“Wait!” Roman said. I sighed and turned back to look at him. “I do have a pretty big job for you. If you do this, I promise you I will pay you in full. A large sum, too.”

“I’ve heard that before, Roman,” I said and turned to walk away again.

He stood from his desk and quickly approached me, grabbing my arm to stop me. I raised an eyebrow and yanked my arm away. Most people were too afraid of Roman to behave like this around him. However, most people weren’t his hitwoman, meaning they didn’t have the dirt on him that I did.

It was a balanced relationship we had, whether Roman wanted to admit it or not.

“I mean it, (Y/N),” he said. “This is a big job. If you do this, I will pay you double, no triple the original price of this hit.”

I should’ve walked away, I could’ve walked away. Roman wouldn’t stop me if I did. But I couldn’t lie, the money sounded good - if Roman actually gave me what he was promising this time.

I sighed and motioned with a hand for Roman to go on. He smiled like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Do you know who Harley Quinn is?”

~~~~~~

It didn’t take long to find where Harley Quinn decided to live after the Joker kicked her to the curb. It was severely under protected, unless you classified a sweet Asian man as “protection”.

He tried to stop me as I made my way to Harley’s apartment. “Who are you?”

“I’m an old friend of Harley’s from Arkham Asylum,” I responded. “I wanted to surprise her, I just got out.”

“She’s not home right now.”

“Even better! It’ll be a big surprise!”

I hurried away before he said anything else. I knew he’d be suspicious, but I trusted him to not tell Harley I was there.

I picked her lock and let myself in. The moment I stepped into her apartment, her pet hyena sat up at attention, assessing the stranger that had just entered his home. I pulled the hamburger I had bought from the bag in my hand and offered it to the hyena. He raced over and excitedly gobbled down the food.

I knelt down to pet his coarse fur. “Good boy. I’ll take you in when I finish with this job.”

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait for her long. Shortly after my arrival, the sound of the doorknob turning alerted myself and her hyena that she was back. I pointed the gun as the door swung open. Her eyes widened when she saw me.

“Hello Harleen.”

Roman’s words - “I want a messy kill” - echoed through my head as I pulled the trigger. Harley quickly jumped to the side, just narrowly avoiding my bullet. She dove behind her couch and I continued to shoot bullets into it, causing feathers and fluff to fly into the air. Harley’s hyena let out a laugh-like bark that was drowned out by my gunshots. When my clip was empty, I quickly changed it to a full one.

Knowing that the gunshots would’ve alerted Harley’s landlord, I quickly crossed the room to her open door and closed it, locking the door and even breaking the knob a little for good measures. I wasn’t going to let this job bust, not with so much money on the line.

“Look, whatever Mista J did to you, I’m sorry!” Harley called from somewhere in the room. “Haven’t ya done your research? He brainwashed me! I only did what he said cause I thought I loved him!”

“Joker never did anything to me,” I told her. “I’m just here on someone else’s behalf.”

“That’s a long list to narrow down,” she responded. “Mind giving me a hint? Maybe an initial?”

I traced her voice to a desk that was turned to face me. This wouldn’t have normally been suspicious, if it weren’t for the fact that the desk was pushed right up against a wall, rendering it technically useless. In the small slit between the bottom of the desk and the floor, I could see Harley’s colorful shoes peaking out.

“Actually, I have a message from him,” I said. “Roman says ‘Good Riddence.”

She must’ve known I had found her, as, just before I pulled the trigger, Harley jumped up from under the desk, successfully launching it at me. The sudden movement startled me enough that my shot lodged itself in the ceiling instead of in her head.

“Oh, Romy!” Harley exclaimed. “Couldn’t even be bothered to come kill me himself? What hurts!”

She dove behind another plush chair as I took another shot at her. I exclaimed in frustration and went to approach the chair. Before getting close enough, Harley raised her hand, which was now holding the white t-shirt she had arrived in.

“Truce!” she called. “Just for one minute, give me a truce. And then you can decide if you want to continue with your killing. I won’t stop you, you ain’t the first to try and off me today.”

Against my better judgement, I sighed and shoved my gun back into the waistband of my pants. “You have five minutes to say your piece, Quinn. I have a lot of money on the line here.”

She popped up from behind the chair like a Whack-A-Mole. She was now in a plush, pink sports bra, her suspenders pulled over it now instead of the white t-shirt she was holding in her hand.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to cash in on a good paycheck,” she said. “I wanted to get a look at ya for a minute. You know, without the bullets and whatnot obstructing my view. I wanted to see if I recognized ya.”

“Why would you recognize me?”

“I frequent Romy’s club a lot. I think he only tolerated me because of Mista J, which would explain why he sent a hitwoman after me when I announced our breakup,” she explained. “You do look familiar. Do you frequent the club, too?”

“I don’t tend to talk with Roman about business in public. It’s not exactly the smartest move.”

“I suppose not, but I’m sure I’ve seen your face there before.” She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Oh! I know! You were there the last time I was! I broke a dude’s legs and you were talking to Romy at the time!”

Oh wait, she’s right. I was there that night.

I could remember well: I had just finished a job. Roman had called me to his club for my payment. I guess he knew I wouldn’t lash out in front of all those witnesses when he stiffed me again. I was furious when he handed me less than half of what he had promised. That job had almost gotten me killed, but he viewed that as a failure. He told me he was debating not paying me at all, but knew I’d walk if that was the case.

His smug as smile as he walked away still infuriated me to that day. I wished I had punched him right in his stupid fucking face, made a scene in his club and announced to the world that Roman Sionis had hired a killer to take down the people he didn’t like. I’d go to prison if it meant Roman went with me.

“Man, you were angry,” Harley said, leaning her arms against the chair and resting her head in one of her hands. “What were ya talking about? Did a hit go wrong or something?”

“Nearly,” I responded, looking away from Harley so she wouldn’t see my anger again. “Listen, I gave you five minutes and they’re almost up, so maybe you should - ”

“He stiffed ya, didn’t he?” Harley cut me off. “I bet he does that a lot. He doesn’t exactly treat his female employees all that nicely. You heard the stories from that singer he has? The Canary? I can’t believe she quit working for him and made it out alive.”

She almost hadn’t. I had to save her ass from Roman that night. It was the night I almost walked out, too. The first time, anyways.

“He’s a misogynistic prick,” Harley hissed. “Thinks women are objects that should be beneath him. I don’t know why you let him treat you like dirt when you do all the dirty work for him. You should be the one stiffin’ him for cash!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” I told her. “Being the killer for hire for Roman Sionis, he has too much dirt on me. If I tried to leave, or if I did anything he didn’t like, he could ruin my life in a second. I’m stuck with him until I can know for sure that I’m safe.”

“How do you know you wouldn’t be safe with me?”

I scoffed at her question. “You’re wanted by everybody - every villain, every hero, and every regular pedestrian. You don’t have the Joker to protect you right now. You’re a walking target, being with you is the unsafest place to be.”

“Safer than with Roman Sionis,” she said. “Sure, I can’t pay you top dollar for killin’, but I like to get my hands bloody myself. I ain’t here for this hitman/hitwoman shit. You and I, we could do some serious damage together.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like her proposal. Even if it would land me in a world of danger, working with Harley Quinn was a lot better than having to work for Roman Sionis anymore.

“The two of us alone, no matter how powerful or how...psychotic, are not enough to go up against Roman,” I told her.

Harley smiled brightly, knowing that what I was saying was technically an acceptance to her invitation. “Way ahead of you sister! I’ve already recruited Romy’s ex-Canary, and that legendary Crossbow Killer. We’re puttin’ together our own little girl gang.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Sounds like you were prepared for this.”

“Let’s just say, you’re not the first person Romy has sent after me.”

I had a feeling there was a reason Roman didn’t warn me about the first person sent after Harley Quinn.

She approached me and threw an arm over my shoulder, as if we were magically best friends. I looked at her close proximity before looking back up at her smiling face. “I could kill you right now, you know.”

“I know, but you won’t,” she said. “We’re best friends now, and we’re gonna take down Roman Sionis together.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her as she said this.

[secondhand-trash]

yaku san as The sugar daddy please, nsfw nafw nsfw lemme fuck that

A/N: I’m here after I lose my mind over the new chapter because oh god OH GOD he is THE daddy I’m- I just- You’ll know once you read the thing because I’m not ok...

Warning: not exactly manga spoilers but kinda?, sugar baby-sugar daddy dynamics, nsfw

Word count: 1535

Yaku knew he wanted you the moment your eyes met

he’s the handsome young athlete who frequents the family type restaurant you worked at and you’re the part-time worker who begged for more shifts because you just needed the salary to pay for your tuition 

when you shyly looked away after noticing that he had been staring at you, the clear desire to steal another glance obvious as you deliberately turned your back to him, he was hooked

he made a move almost immediately, leaving his card together with a heavy tip when you gave him the check

the card was a formal one but on the back, you see the words that made your heart raced as you stared at the black ink at night, your phone in hand as you shakily punched in those digits

Call me?

he responded quickly after you sent the initial message and making it clear that he was interested in you, asked you if you would like to meet him up for dinner that weekend

you felt small when he showed up at your door in a suit that was probably worth your entire month of salary, feeling ridiculously under-dressed even though you already pulled out your nicest outfit

you shivered when he took your hand, pressing a soft kiss at the back and whispered with a smile, “I know you’ll blow me away, but my my do you look beautiful tonight...”

the place he took you was grand, floor-length windows by the table at a secluded corner of the restaurant and the most prestige part of the city below your feet

it was when he left the table temporarily that you had a moment to look at your surroundings to see just how lavish everything was 

he already had everything planned before you even walked through the doors so you had no number to look at, but you didn’t need the figures to know that if it wasn’t for him, you would likely never dine at a place like this ever in your life

the opulence was blinding but most importantly, he was so lovely. Even though it is clear that there is a difference in status between the two of you, he never once made you uncomfortable or came off as arrogant

and the feeling that someone like him wanted you made you bolder and bolder, throwing in a few flirtatious remarks of your own 

you did not move away when he put his hand on yours, index finger trailing down your wrist 

Blinking your eyes to adjust to the light, you had a sudden moment of panic when you sat up to see the unfamiliar hotel room that you were in.

Until the aftermath of your date slowly reappeared in your head and the feeling of the silky bedding rubbing against your bare legs was starting to make your skin heat up.

His lips were on you the moment the door locked, his hand rough against your waist as he tugged and clawed at the dress you were wearing. The smell of his cologne invaded your sense as he trailed wet kisses down your neck, your hand clawing at his back for leverage as your head went hazy at his rampant assault. 

This was all overwhelming. His hand fondling your tits as he yanked down the collar of your dress roughly, the way he didn’t seem to mind fucking you against the door if you hadn’t pulled him towards the couch in the center of the room in between moans, the fact that you had met this man for fewer times than you could count with one hand but yet all you could do was arched your back off to let him slide your panties off as he pushed your legs apart.

Your hands were fumbling to just get his belt off while his hands wander all over your naked body. You whined at the feeling of the metal bands that clad his hand, licking your lips at the thought of them being inside of you but for now, you were simply taken over by the urge for him to just mess you up.

Holding your knees, he hooked your legs around his waist as he lifted your lower body off the couch. Your hand gripped at the couch as he nudged his leaking tip against your sopping folds, your nails digging into the soft velvet of the cushion as he hilted in you. His name was the only thing you could get ahold up as he set a feverish pace, the groans and grunts that fell from his lips making you clench.

Your face was getting hotter and hotter the more you recalled the bits and pieces of last night. God, you could barely even look at the room you were in without thinking of something that you had done on there. He proceeded to try and move your tangled bodies to the bed after you barely regained your breath from the round on the couch, only to get distracted by your pants at his ear midway and slammed you against the window that made up one wall of the room with your chest pressed up against the glass.

Oh god, he fucked you against the window. You sighed into your palms, trying to brush away the visuals of your wrists being held up above your head as he rutted against you. 

You let out a soft gasp when you felt something tickling the side of your waist. Yaku pulled you closer to him lazily, peppering soft kisses on your stomach as he chuckled at how you tensed up.

“Morning, princess.”

“Morning...” you said, brushing away the tuft of hair that fell on his face with the tip of your finger as he sat up to kiss you square on the lips. The crisp white blanket fell off of him as he sat up, showing the red marks on his chest that was faded but still very much so visible. 

Ah, those were from when you two actually got to the bed and you straddled his lap...

You smiled as you leaned on his shoulder, burying your face at the crook of his neck as his hand slid to the small of your back. It had been a while since you last had such good sleep, the mattresses this hotel uses must be of very good quality.

In fact, you could not even recall the last time you woke up without an alarm- wait...

“What time is it?” 

Yaku furrowed his eyebrows when you suddenly flinched away, colour leaving your face when turned the clock on the side table towards you.

“Fuck, I’m late for work.” you groaned, “I’m gonna get into so much trouble for this. God, I’m so sorry-”

Your leg was already dangling off the mattress when you felt a strong grip at your wrist, stopping you from leaping off the bed.

“Do you like that job?”

You paused before answering with a dry chuckle, “I need that job.”

“Quit the job, I’ll take care of you.”

“What?” you muttered. Slowly turning around to look at him, you froze in the realisation that he was absolutely serious.

“I can’t-”

“Hey,” his voice was gentle as he put your hand to cradle his face, turning to his side to speak against your pulse point, “I really like you and I think this can work. Let me help, hm?”

You sucked in a deep breath, unable to ignore how tempting the offer was and the way goosebumps were already forming on your skin at his hot breath on your inner wrist.

“Thank you.” 

He beamed, letting go of your hand to hold your shoulder instead. Your breath hitched when he kissed the dip of your collarbone, your arms hooking around his neck immediately.

“No need,” he said with a wink, and you knew you were not leaving the room any time sooner when he trailed down.

he wasn’t lying when he said he will take care of you

not only are your bills handled, he is basically spoiling you at any opportunity that presented itself

nice clothes? fancy lingerie? flying with him whenever he is traveling? you name it

so smitten by the sight of you beneath him in all the lavish things that he bought for you

gold necklace on your neck and nothing else?

red bottom heels and naked from the heel up?

he spoils you but he insists that you’re the one who treats him too well

shows you off at galas and events where you hang off his arm

it’s an arrangement of sorts, sure, but above all he just liked having you around

and all the luxuries aside, you just couldn’t imagine not falling asleep in his arms anymore

you have spent countless nights with him at the fanciest places around the world but the hotel room that you first went to remains a favourite and whenever there’s a special occasion, he books the exact same room that night for celebratory purposes

makes sure to fuck you against the window at least once every time 

he also proposed in the exact same room, some time down the line

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter one

Lucie, Cordelia, Thomas and Alastair are spending the summer in a small town at the edge of a forest. Lucie hopes she can finally tell Cordelia how she really feels, while Thomas hopes to get to know Alastair a bit better. Alastair and Cordelia are glad to get some time away from their family and their parents separating. But something is not right in the forest. People are disappearing, and a creature warns Thomas that he is in danger, that a debt to a powerful being has not yet been repaid and they will need to combine all their abilities to stop what’s coming, and save Thomas.

CW: past toxic relationship, past abuse, mentions of alcoholism, PTSD It won't be super gory, but can be creepy

Tag list: @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @nott-the-best

Tagging @julywood because Thomas is one of the main characters

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32505550/chapters/80620474

‘Are you finished packing, Lulu?’

Lucie heard her father’s voice from behind the door of her bedroom, but she didn’t respond immediately. She was working on her story, and needed to finish this chapter so she could email it to Cordelia. She needed to concentrate, and that required blocking out all sounds coming from the outside world. The chapter had taken a bit longer than anticipated and the ghost of one of Cordelia’s dead boyfriends had somehow made its way into the chapter. Fictional Cordelia had had many boyfriends and all had died tragic deaths to make way for the next. She currently didn’t have a boyfriend and Lucie wasn’t planning another one yet. The real Cordelia had only dated her brother James for a while a year ago. Lucie didn’t think she wanted real Cordelia to have a boyfriend either.

The door opened and her father peeked inside. ‘You haven’t started packing at all, have you?’

‘I need to finish my chapter for Cordelia,’ Lucie insisted. ‘She will be stuck in a very long car ride with only Alastair for company and she needs something to occupy herself with.’

Lucie would be staying the summer with her parents in her grandmother’s manor, whereas her grandmother would be traveling to southern Italy with a couple of friends. While Lucie was usually excited about spending her summer there, she had feared it would be lonely considering her brother James wouldn’t be coming this year. He’d graduated school and he and his best friend Matthew were going to travel across the continent by themselves. She’d feared she’d be alone all summer, but then Thomas, her closest friend besides Cordelia, had convinced his parents to travel to the same town this summer, renting a cottage nearby her grandmother’s house.

‘Alright, I’ll pack for you,’ her father said. ‘But if you find your swimsuit or your sparrow plush toy is missing, then I will not be held responsible.’

‘Jack is coming,’ Lucie insisted, referring to her sparrow plush toy she’d once named after Jack Sparrow, and she put her laptop away to put her plush toy in her bag.

After a short moment of contemplation she put her new pink bikini and an older black and red striped one piece in there too. There was a lake close to grandmother’s manor and Lucie expected she’d go swimming regularly. She returned to her laptop, and tried to think of a good ending for the chapter. She didn’t like to end everything in a cliffhanger, but the story needed to remain intriguing.

‘No clothes? Underwear?’ her father asked.

Lucie considered just bringing everything suitable for the summer but realized they didn’t have that much space in the car. So instead she opened her closet, picked out some tops, skirts, dresses and jumpsuits and put them into her bag. She would probably regret leaving something behind later on but there was no time. Just to be sure, she went over the closet again and added a couple more dresses. She couldn’t leave her new yellow wrap dress behind, she’d sent Cordelia a picture of her wearing it a couple of weeks ago after she’d bought it and Cordelia had commented that she looked gorgeous. Lucie suspected it was just Cordelia being nice but the comment had still made her heart run wild.

She added enough underwear to last her several weeks and then went back to adding clothes at random until the bags were full.

‘Done,’ she announced, and she went back to her laptop, finishing her chapter.

Adding in a ghost was a difficult choice, but Lucie had decided fictional ghosts behaved similarly to real ghosts. Lucie had never seen a ghost of a dead boyfriend though. She hadn’t seen Jesse Blackthorn even once since he’d died four years ago.

When the chapter was finished, she emailed it to Cordelia, hoping she would receive it before she and her brother left home. Cordelia had almost not been allowed to come stay with her family this summer, her father tended to be strict and wanted to keep Cordelia at home. There had been some trouble lately at the Carstairs home though, and Cordelia’s mother had decided it would be good for her to go spend time with Lucie. Cordelia’s brother Alastair had decided to come with her, although Lucie wasn’t sure why. Either way, Lucie had decided she and Cordelia were going to have the greatest summer ever.

 ***

Thomas hadn’t been this excited about going on a vacation with his parents in a while. The small town where they’d be staying sounded boring, and certainly wasn’t the location most boys his age wanted to spend the summer, but then Thomas wasn’t interested in drinking and partying all night and would much rather explore forests and go swimming in lakes with Lucie Herondale. That wasn’t the main reason he was excited though. A week ago, Lucie had confirmed her close friend Cordelia Carstairs would be staying the summer with her, and a couple of days later Lucie had informed him Cordelia’s brother Alastair would be coming as well.

Thomas had gone to school with Alastair for a year, Alastair a year ahead of him, and at the time Alastair had been rather awful, especially to Thomas’ friends James and Matthew. To be fair, Alastair’s jokes about Matthew behaving like his mother were funny. Matthew did behave like his mother, always coming to collect him when he’d spent too much time around Alastair. Why he’d fallen in love with Alastair anyway, he wasn’t sure. He’d been intrigued by the mystery, he guessed, Alastair’s sad eyes and vicious tongue.

But after that year, Alastair had changed schools, and had gone to school with Lucie and Cordelia instead and he’d heard much from Lucie about him. Alastair had defended Lucie from bullies had kept to himself and created this image of someone who was untouchable, no longer a bully, but he would destroy you if you even considered hurting his sister or her friend Lucie. Thomas was once more intrigued. While James and Matthew were still angry, Thomas had decided he must have changed and he was thankful Alastair had protected Lucie, heaven knew that girl knew how to get herself into trouble.

Thomas checked his phone for the millionth time. He was done packing, but his parents were not. Lucie hadn’t send any new texts and Thomas suspected she needed to pack or finish the latest chapter of her novel before her parents left. She’d listed some ideas that might help him spend more time alone with Alastair, although Thomas was not yet sure if he wanted that. He wasn’t out to anyone but Lucie yet, and although he intended to tell his parents, he wasn’t yet sure how. He wasn’t yet sure he was ready for a relationship, and although he liked Alastair, he was also a bit intimidated by him.

Barbara had sent a message, and Thomas opened it. It was a picture of her and Oliver in front of the Eiffel Tower. Barbara and her boyfriend Oliver had gone to Paris to celebrate their two year anniversary and to celebrate Barbara graduating as a nurse.

Thomas texted a response and put his phone in his bag and walked outside, checking to see if his parents needed any help. A couple of gnomes were running around the garden. Thomas didn’t mind them, they took good care of the garden, and were far from dangerous, but they could get up to mischief. He’d learned that whenever cookies, forks or socks went missing, it was usually the garden gnomes. They lived in forests sometimes, but also liked to build their homes in human gardens. Of course, most humans had no idea they were there, but Thomas could see all sorts of strange creatures. Most were harmless, so Thomas never minded much. He didn’t seek out the supernatural, but he didn’t mind its presence.

Both his mother and Barbara had the same gift, and although Eugenia didn’t she had learnt to see the gnomes. Thomas had found out everyone could learn to see the supernatural if they knew what to look for and knew it was out there. Most people didn’t believe so they didn’t see, but Eugenia had grown up with a mother and siblings who saw everything whether they wanted to or not. She had always known what was out there.

Eugenia and her friend Kamala would be spending the summer in India this year, they’d saved up for months for their big trip. Thomas suspected they might be more than just friends but so far Eugenia had not confirmed this.

‘We’re almost done,’ his mother promised, handing him a plate of cookies. ‘Give some to the gnomes, will you? To show them our thanks for taking care of the garden.’

Thomas went into the backyard where even more gnomes had gathered. It was difficult to imagine most people could look at this scene and see nothing out of the ordinary, when several gnomes were running around, holding something shiny in their hands.

‘The car keys,’ Thomas groaned out loud and he put the plate of cookies on the ground.

‘You can have these, but please give me the keys back,’ he said.

The gnomes said something, but Thomas didn’t understand their language, and then attacked the plate of cookies, dropping the car keys in the process. Thomas picked them up before the gnomes realized anything, and picked up the plate as soon as it was empty. Gnomes could be monsters when it came to cookies and they didn’t have table manners, they just attacked any food they saw. Thomas couldn’t blame them.

Thomas quickly washed the plate and put it back with the others before joining his parents again, who were finally finished with everything.

‘Feeding the gnomes again, Sophie?’ his father asked. ‘Are you sure that many cookies are healthy for them?’

His mother shrugged. ‘They’re gnomes, Gideon. Who knows what’s healthy for them?’

His father couldn’t argue with that logic. Thomas wondered if there would be gnomes too at the cottage where they would be staying, or if other creatures would show themselves. Thomas had learned that if there was a myth or any kind of story depicting it, it probably existed somewhere, but most such beings were very rare and so far Thomas had mostly encountered gnomes.

Checking the car one last time to see if they had everything, Thomas got into the passenger seat next to his mother who would be driving, his father behind. Thomas had gotten too tall to fit in the backseat of this car and sitting there for a long drive would be unnecessarily painful. Besides, Thomas was better at reading maps than his father, and if they got lost they would depend on him to find the way.

As they drove, Thomas couldn’t help but think of Alastair Carstairs. Why had he decided to join the Herondales? Thomas didn’t think he was particularly close to Lucie, although he knew Will Herondale had a weak spot for anything that carried the name Carstairs. He wasn’t surprised the Herondales had invited him along. Could he be thinking of Thomas? And would Lucie’s plans to get them to spend time together help, or only make everything worse?

 ***

‘I cannot get this bag to close,’ Cordelia complained.

‘Perhaps that’s because there’s a limit to how much fits in there,’ Alastair said without looking up.

He was finished packing, of course. Cordelia, on the other hand, had decided she had not yet enough clothes packed and with some suggestions from her mother and aunt Risa had tried to add more.

‘Don’t you have another bag for me?’ Cordelia asked, annoyed.

She loved Alastair, but sharing a room with him was a bit too much and they’d gotten on each other’s nerves. They were currently staying with their aunt Risa, their mother too, but Risa’s apartment was a bit small for all of them. It was a temporary situation and Cordelia hoped that after the summer she and Alastair didn’t have to share a room anymore. At least in the Herondale manor, there were plenty of rooms and Cordelia intended to get one as far away from her brother as possible. Alastair tended to be neat, and his half of the room was always perfectly in order, whereas Cordelia was a bit messier, and both were irritated with the other.

‘You can check if any of my bags have some space left. Or you can leave the bag opened and put it in the car like this and hope it doesn’t end with clothes littered everywhere.’

Cordelia went to the building’s parking garage and to the car and put the bag there, half open, making sure nothing fell out. No one but the two of them would be fitting in there with how much Alastair had packed. Cordelia couldn’t imagine he’d need all that, but she knew better than to attempt to convince her brother he could leave something behind.

Back inside, she saw Alastair sitting on his bed, vaguely staring into the distance as if he was daydreaming.

‘Alastair, stop doing that,’ Cordelia said.

Calling his name usually brought him out even when his senses were closed off from the world around him. Alastair had an ability that Cordelia best described as him being Harry Potter’s pensieve. He could revisit his own memories, and if they allowed it, other people’s memories as well, as well as bring people with him into memories. Alastair tended to stay out of other people’s memories, but could get lost in his own. Outside their family, no one knew about it and Alastair preferred to keep it that way.  

The Carstairs family had always been aware of the supernatural, of course. Once their father Elias had carried the magic sword cortana and fought evil creatures with it. That had been a long time ago though, and Cordelia owned cortana now, but she had never used it to fight anything beyond straw men in the backyard. She didn’t have any abilities though, not beyond her connection the sword, nothing like Alastair’s odd memory. Neither of them understood why he was that way.

‘Were you revisiting your break up again?’ Cordelia asked then.

She knew he’d been revisiting that memory over and over lately, although she didn’t understand why. It couldn’t possibly make him feel better, could it? Of course, Alastair wasn’t exactly known for making the healthiest choices when it came to coping.

‘Charles has been texting me,’ Alastair said, his face blank. ‘I made sure that when I broke up with him, I was very clear about not wanting him to contact me. I wanted to see if there was anything I said that might have made my meaning unclear, any invitation for him to keep texting me.’

‘I don’t think Charles has ever listened to a thing you said,’ Cordelia said. ‘That’s his problem, not yours. Have you blocked his number yet?’

Alastair didn’t say anything.

‘You can block him,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘And you should. It’s creepy how he keeps texting you.’

As far as Cordelia was concerned, Charles had been creepy long before that, ever since he began a relationship with her brother despite Alastair only being sixteen at the time when Charles was six years older than him. Charles must have known how wrong and creepy that was, even if Alastair hadn’t.

Alastair hadn’t told anyone about his relationship, not ready to come out yet, which must have been convenient to Charles. Cordelia had only found out four months ago when she’d started to worry about Alastair, how he’d seemed more nervous and prickly than usual, how he’d lost weight from not eating. Reluctantly, Alastair had told her about his relationship, and Cordelia had been horrified to learn just how much abuse he’d accepted, believing that was how relationships worked. After a month of Cordelia trying to convince him of how toxic Charles was, Alastair had broken up with him. She’d been very protective of him ever since finding out, and was glad he’d decided to come stay with the Herondales with her this summer. Some time away from everything would be good for him, right?

Then Cordelia had found out Alastair had been keeping even more secrets from her, this one surrounding their father. Cordelia had always loved her father and looked up to him, a former warrior who’d slain the supernatural horror that had taken his brother and sister in law, a former hero who’d fallen ill in later life. A while ago their cousin Jem, who was a psychiatrist, had visited, despite their father trying to keep him away from their family, and he’d noticed Alastair was not doing well after an anger outburst. Cordelia and her mother had always assumed Alastair’s moodiness and anger outbursts were just him being a difficult teenager, although at eighteen he was getting a bit old for that. Jem, familiar with mental disorders, had recognized symptoms of something more.

He had recommended Alastair see a therapist. After some pressure from both her and Jem, Alastair had gone and he’d been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. Cordelia had found out father was not sick, but addicted to alcohol instead. Alastair had spent years protecting her from the effects, attempting to take care of father while he was drunk so she have the illusion of a normal childhood. Now that she knew, she guessed she understood a bit better why Alastair had thought what Charles had offered was love.

‘I guess I can block him,’ Alastair said.

‘I’m serious,’ Cordelia insisted. ‘You have to stop revisiting bad memories, you’ll only get hurt again. I don’t like seeing you hurt.’

Alastair took his phone out his pocket, presumably blocked Charles’ number, and put it back.

‘Are you ready to go, Layla?’ he asked.

When Cordelia was young, she’d loved the story of Layla and Majnun her mother used to tell her, and Alastair and her mother had taken to calling her Layla.

‘Ready when you are,’ Cordelia said. ‘Lucie just emailed me the latest chapter of the beautiful Cordelia. I’ll have plenty to do on the way.’

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch.3

WARNING DECEPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK

I understand seeing others go through this can sometimes cause panic or anxiety attacks in some and with the use of some imagery I've used I'd feel better if I gave a fair warning that there is a detailed panic attack early on.

,,,,,,,,,,

Whoever said eight hours of sleep was the right amount for humans has never met an insomniac who just spent the last six days and five nights awake. You hoped that fucker is in hell burning for his sins, he probably has more of them that you don't know of. But with bleary eyes looking at your phone you can barely make out that it's just a little past six in the morning. This is backed up by the slimmers of light shinning through the blanket you put over the window last night. Briefly the thought of keeping it up today passes through your mind as you try to curl into an even tighter blanket cocoon.

Stretching out your legs and toes you let your muscles melt into mush in the warmth and comfort of your bed. Closing your eyes and burying your head back into the pillow, you might not be able to go to sleep but resting is nice too. You're so relaxed it almost feels as if all your limbs are floating and you feel the buzz of energy come surging back through you, you hum along with it nuzzling into the pillows.

'Your car was broken into.' the thought flashes through your mind and has you jolting up right.

Chest heaving slightly as frantic eyes dance along the room that hasn't changed since the night before. The buzzing energy from just a few moments before turns into an icy feeling flowing in your veins. It chills you to your core and you've noticed the tremors in your arms causing you to tremble. There's a sick feeling that bubbles up your throat, as you feel the phantoms of tens of hands grabbing at your arms and torso. They move erratically all over and their grips are suffocating, there's a lump in your throat that you have trouble swallowing down.

Bringing a hand up to your throat you jab your thumb right above or right at where your larynx would be. The slight pain from the pressure helps ease the lump away and you're able to get out a few frantic breaths. You hardly notice the wetness on your face from the few tears slipping free from your eyes.

'Gross, gross, gross, gross.' is the only message that rings clear in your mind as you're assaulted by these phantom hands.

You're aware this is a panic attack, but it does little to calm you down. Putting more pressure on your throat and using your feet to propel you back into the mattress. Vaguely you're aware that tiring your body out should calm you or maybe it's the release of an emotional fit that calms you, you aren't sure which and you don't really care at the moment. So flailing your legs you let your feet forcefully slip off of their purchase as you push your muscles to their full extent with force. It doesn't take long before you can't feel your limbs and are gasping for breath.

The phantoms are gone, no longer touching you as they please, and while the lump still sits at the bottom of your throat making it hurt to swallow and breathe around you can begin to feel calm. Actually it's the numbness that takes over you, not a sense of calm. The sense of an empty shell broken from its exertion. One thing's for sure you can't take your car today. If you had a panic attack just by thinking of your car you don't want to risk actually getting behind the wheel.

Everything feels tense, the muscles in your legs are starting to ache and you're pretty sure you'll have a bruise at the base of your throat.  You check your phone with shaky hands to see it's now seven twelve. If you get up now and leave you think you can probably make it into town by eight forty giving you time to grab something from the Dunkin' on the corner across from the shop. Or you could call out, Nate would totally understand. But just the thought of being alone today sends a chill down your spine and the feeling of those phantom hands start creeping their way back into your personal space.

“I'm going to work!” jumping up and out of the bed, away from the grubby grabby specters.

Running around the room you throw on a pair of black shorts, unusual for you to wear at work but if you're walking you'll have to deal, sweaty jeans are uncomfortable and joggers aren't very cohesive to a work environment. Deciding on a binder made from a breathable swimsuit material for the same reason, sweaty bra is too uncomfortable and bra-less isn't really something you're comfortable with. Grabbing the first shirt you find, it's a black tee with the words “The only man for me is Mothman” printed on it surrounded by little white stars and a chibi lil mothamn.

Looking at your outfit altogether cheers you up. It's casual but cute, not to mention these shorts do a lot for your thighs and butt. But, there's no time to dwell on how handsome you are, you need to grab food and get out the door like ten minutes ago! Grabbing a mask printed with the word 'No' dead center and your headphones you leave your room. With the thought of grabbing Dunkin' before work you settle on a Pedialyte Pop to hold you over during your walk, nausea shouldn't hit you right away anyway. Checking your door was locked, thrice, you started your trek to town.

Most people would complain about having to walk or hike while wearing a mask, often times saying it was hard to breathe under the fabric. But you'd say they just didn't have the right size mask for their face shape. You'd run into a few masks that hadn't been the right shape or size throughout the years but you're thankful that your first three had been perfect. Had they been too big or small you probably wouldn't have fallen in love with wearing masks, they were so comfy and let you interact with people without your voice getting stuck in your throat.

You'd taken to wearing them after high school when you'd taken a job of watching an elderly hospice patient's corgi while her family worked on moving to Virginia and closer to her. Anytime you and little Russel went to visit her you'd had to wear a mask, so instead of wearing the disposables you'd bought a set of three reusable ones.

After noting the change in behavior she mentioned your Autism, she'd been a retired social worker and saw the signs when she met you and after spending nearly 40 hours a week together for half a year she was certain you somehow fell through the cracks. It was a shock to you when she threw out the off handed comment but after stating who your pediatrician was, she was sent into a fit of laughter.

“Anya is a dear and a great surgeon, but I think the cultural barrier has stopped her from diagnosing children for years.” she had said all the while wheezing through the oxygen mask, eyes crinkling in amusement.

She'd sat you down with a list of books to look into and written out all your symptoms, she said if you ever wanted to get tested having the list of symptoms would be more helpful than straight up asking for a diagnosis. Some doctors were too by the book back in the 40s so Autism has rarely been studied in depth. Only in the last decade or so has a movement gained momentum to spread not only a wider awareness of the disorder but also acceptance for it. But to a doctor it would seem like you were grasping for attention at least to anyone who spent less time with you than she had. But without at least six thousand dollars to spend on a piece of paper that confirms what you already know you'll just have to stick to coping by using methods you read about from forums and blogs made by people with Autism rather than their parents or someone who's “very close” to them. And like Mary Anne said before she died, “just because you don't have a diagnosis doesn't mean your symptoms aren't there.”. A statment that reassures you from time to time, when you think you must be faking it for attention. And that somehow you managed to fake tics your whole life.

Snapping out of your memories because you could hardly tell your mask was on, and has been for the past forty minutes or so since you'd finished your pop. It wasn't too hot at the moment and like the previous day Kepler's climate has no humidity whatsoever, a huge change from the coast. Checking the time again on your phone you see the clear white numbers stating boldly that it is eight o' nine. You don't feel any closer to town but figure that's normal when all you've seen is the old over grown road. You feel you should have seen the road leading to town by now,  you hope you see it soon or else you'd really over estimated how long it would take to get to town, then you'd be hella late and sweaty. With the way you still had signal to the spotify you doubt you've even made it far enough to reach the dead zone.

Sighing you look down as you walk hoping to maybe find a rock to kick, walking's really boring when there's nothing to explore and you're on a time crunch. A loud honk takes you out of your head and you startle looking up. Doesn't take more than a second before you see a car stopped in the middle of the road in front of you. It's well taken care of for sure but not necessarily new or anything, you don't know too much about cars other than it looks like a black Camry no wait that's the Hyundai symbol. Some type of sedan then.

The back window on your side of the car rolls down and a man leans out and calls to you, you don't hear him at first. Slipping your headphones down to hang around your neck he repeats himself, “Do ya need a ride?” He has a southern accent on the thicker side, not abnormal for West Virginia but you can tell it's not the same dialect, probably from further down. The man has blonde hair styled in that fluffy swooped faux hawk that a lot of gamers had back in 2017/2018. He's got slight thin stubble along his jaw, not quiet five o'clock shadow so he probably has trouble growing facial hair. His eyes are that hazel color everyone wishes they could have, the kinda that had the orangish yellow glow about them. He looks like a fuck boy.

You're nearly ready to point at your mask in an indication of 'no I don't know you creep' when you catch sight of the driver. A boy around your age maybe who looks apathetic, that's not what catches your eye everyone looses the will to live at some point. What draws your attention is the mask he's wearing on his face. He could potentially be like you, or maybe he's just sick and being considerate, or he could have allergies. Whatever the case may be you can't honestly be considering getting into a car with two random men just because one wears a face mask. Hell for all you know they've orchestrated this situation, they could've been watching you analyzing your every move to know that breaking into your car would send you into a state of panic where you wouldn't use your car the next day or two, then you'd be out in the open to kidnap on your walk to town where you couldn't call for help due to being in the dead zone. Why else would they be this far along the old dirt road?

“Ah...miss?” the southern drawl brings you out of your inner ramblings, and the words cause you to bristle.

“I'm not a woman.” you say calmly but firmly.

“Oh, ah sorry sir.” you can't help but huff a laugh at the quick apology, your eyes catch movement through the window. Oh they have a dog with them, a rottweiler at that. Cool kidnappers with a dog, who's wearing a vest how...wait dog in vest oh he must be a service dog. Cool not kidnappers then, just strangers, nice. Seemingly trans allys, slight common ground with the driver, and a service dog it might be safe to engage...or at least humor these men.

“It's fine, I'm They/Them for the record.” You say approaching the car, you make your way to the man leaning out of the window, somehow the presence of a service dog puts you more at ease, especially when the dog only spares you a single glance before his attention's back on the driver, who's not even pretending to pay attention to the two of you. His leg is bouncing up and down, it's not rhythmic and no one's paying attention even as it shakes the car. Probably has ADHD, your dad does that all the time when he's at a stop light, it's a subconscious movement he even does it in waiting rooms or anywhere where he has to sit still really.

“Oh, well sorry 'bout that Mx.” the man in the window stresses the “Mx” but not in the typical fuck boy way, more like he was reinforcing it to himself. “We just saw you walkin' and wanted to see if ya' needed a ride anywhere.” he says.

“If you're going to town, I'd appreciate one, but I wouldn't want to be a bother.” his smile brightens at this but you notice it doesn't reach his eyes, probably just being polite.

“Sure thing, hop on in.” He moves to slide back but you've already opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. Effectively snapping the driver out of whatever haze he was in to look at you, he looks back at his friend with confusion.

“Hi” you say to the driver who gives his own wary 'hey' in response as you buckle yourself in. The driver looked even more apathetic up close, dark eye bags under his eyes that were such a deep brown you couldn't see his pupil he also had that fluffy brown e-boy hair. Not the frizzy hair marketing itself as fluffy but the type that's genuinely fluffy looking forming soft waves in his hair.

If they are kidnappers they're really bad at it, especially if all you have to do to stun them is sit up front in a seat that has the second most control in the car and can escape quicker if the need arises. However, glancing back at the dog you notice his attention's still on the driver, it would be really dumb if a kidnapper brought their service dog with them to do a kidnapping so you're reassured that it's just two southern boys driving through Kepler. And they happened to spot a “damsel” in distress, so they came to the rescue.

“Oh, don't mind Connor he won't bother you. He's here for Toby right now.” The man in the back says and you see the man beside you grip the steering wheel tighter. You nod in response and feel a tickle at the base of your skull, you'll try holding back the tic to not freak the two out.

Just as “Toby” is about to put the car in drive, a bark is heard from the back seat. A frustrated sigh leaves Toby as his hand leaves the gear shift, scowl clear even on his masked face. You guess Toby needs Connor to let him know when he's safe to drive, it's rude to ask about these things but you can't help but guess why that'd be the case.

Another bark leaves Connor right as your head snaps to the right moving back to place, then right, right, up, and right before cracking violently.

“There we go.” you verbalize.

Toby's looking at you in what you can only guess is shock, not the worst reaction you've had to your tics, meanwhile you notice Brian's looking to Connor who's looking directly at you now. Then his head whips around to Toby and he barks, like clockwork Toby's shoulders jerk forwards and his hands jolt up. Connor looks back at you and gives a bark, your head jerks three times cracking your neck two of those times. Connor's gaze is still on you and you know he'll be in an ongoing ping pong game between you and Toby if you keep triggering each other's tics the entire drive, if you'd even be able to get to that point.

“I'm fine, thank you.” you said looking at Connor while holding the sides of your head, trying to as your friend Emonie once said 'keep the bobble head away'.

Thankfully Connor must have had a training course similar to ones you've helped with because he looks away from you and focuses on Toby, who he gives several barks to. Following those barks Toby pops his knuckles and makes a 'mrrwo' sound, sort of imitating a cat, before his head jerks sharply into his knee that jerked up at the same time. You cringe at the sight knowing that must have hurt, hands still firmly pushing your head you see Connor settle down in the back, still on alert but laying down as if to say the muscle spasms have passed. You won't risk removing your hands, you still need a ride into town and this whole situation's put you behind to where you won't make it if you walk now.

“pfft...” you look back to the blonde and he looks ready to burst with laughter from what he just watched. Heat creeping up your face you turn and look away, sure the situation's funny but you don't know these two men and honestly you just feel so embarrassed right now. Especially with last night's incident at the mini mart still fresh in your memory.

“Will you fucking shut up!” Toby barks out, and the blonde tries harder to suppress his laughing fit. Toby glares at his friend before turning his attention back to the road, hand on the gear shift he waits for an alert before putting the car in drive and doing a U-turn back to town.

It's been a while since you've been a passenger in a car, you actually get to take the time to relax and enjoy the passing scenery as Toby drives. He's a surprisingly good driver, most guys his age are speed demons and always want to see how fast they can get away with driving. Toby on the other hand is abiding by the limit even on this open stretch of road with no other cars. But you guess it comes with the territory of needing a service dog to be able to drive, have to abide by the rules. The drive's quiet, you take it as a good thing that the men aren't trying to question or get to know you. If they were kidnappers or up to something nefarious surely they'd be trying to distract you right now with endless chatter to let your guard down. Especially if they'd been watching you and knew what a total chattering encyclopedia you could be when given the right topic. You're gazing out into the window seeing the sign of the town get closer finally when the thought hits you.

“So, your name's Toby, is it short for Tobias?” turning to look at the man, he spares a single side glance with his furrowed brows before responding with an uneasy 'Yea'.

“Cool, sorry if that was a weird question. Tobias is like the best name I've ever heard but I've only met three Tobiases, including you. Could I call you Tobias or do you prefer Toby?”

“I don't really care.” gotta love apathy.

“Cool, cool. Thanks for the ride Tobias!” you chirp out.

“Hey, forgetin' that I'm the one who offered the ride?” The man in the backseat speaks up.

“No, you just never gave me your name. You said Connor's” and ear twitch is all you get such a good boy, “and you said Tobias'. Never mentioned your own.”

“It's Brian, sugar.” you were correct, this man is a fuck boy.

“Yikes, that's gross.”that was a reflex and it was now Toby's turn to laugh at his friend. The man didn't even hide his snickers even had his shoulders bouncing up and down, you think you even caught a mumbled “I won't hesitate bitch”. Meanwhile Brian sat stunned, guess he was used to people finding his nicknames more endearing, meaning he probably meant nothing by it and it was probably the southern accent but it just made you think of the senior men who'd hit on you back before you moved out here.

“Yea don't call me 'sugar', anyway, I'm YN, it's nice to meet you three.”  Toby just nods as his laughter dies down a clucking sound resonates from his throat, Brian however goes right back to his friendly persona with a 'good to meet ya.' Again it's slightly off, it doesn't feel like he's trying to be polite...it feels like...you can't put your finger on it but it's familiar. Like when you fake a conversation with Nate or your mother on the days where exhaustion is nearly killing you, but Brian doesn't seem tired or sluggish.

The rest of the drive is relatively quiet as you direct Toby how to maneuver the streets and he parks in the parking lot of Dunkin'. While you were getting out you'd asked the men if you could get them anything from Dunkin' as a thank you for driving you. Brian tried to decline but Toby spoke over him with what “they” wanted.

“Ok cool, can Connor have a pup cup?” unsure if service dogs could have treats while working.

Sparing a glance to the good boy in question Toby shrugged “Yea, he's due for a break any-anyway.” he ends with popping his knuckles. You assume Connor only alerts motor tics when Toby is driving or about to start driving, since that tic didn't get clocked.

You repeat the order to the cashier once inside. You also get a frozen caramel coffee and an iced caramel coffee for you and Nate along with a box of donuts to pick from for the day. When she hands you everything you're able to balance Toby's order on top of your box and your drinks in the other hand. Walking out with the help of the next man coming in, nodding thanks as you pass him, you see Toby leaning against his car with Connor sitting next to him, no vest on.

It's terrifying how well trained Connor is, because the dog you left in the car barely paid you any mind. While this hyper pup's tail is wagging at just the sight of you, his paws lifting slightly in a tiny dance as you get closer. But he doesn't dare move from his sit, looking up at Toby for cues and looking at you who holds his treat.  Had you not worn a mask for so long you may have missed the smile Toby gave Connor as he pat the dog's head. The slight crinkles around the edges were a dead give away though. With a quick snap Connor is released from whatever command he'd been held by and runs up to you once you're five feet from them.

Drooling mouth opening and closing in an odd mute bark for a dog this size. You take note of the fact that while he's jumping excitedly and pawing the air he hasn't laid a single paw on you. Whoever trained him knew what they were doing that's for sure. Looking up to Toby you hold the one hand outstretched for him to take his items, a tray with Connor's pup cup and his iced coffee, and a white baggie with three donuts, strawberry glazed, maple glazed, and an apple fritter.

Once he's taken his items you balance your drinks on top of the box. Connor's attention hasn't moved from you even through the exchange. You're a little confused by the pup's antics but he probably thinks he can get a donut off you.

“Sorry bubbie, your dad's got your treat not me.” that dopey little face tilts to the left not understanding you aren't the treat giver at this time. You laugh letting him smell the hand that had the coffee in it so maybe he'd understand you didn't have his treat. He excitedly sniffs you, and gives you a few licks before sitting back right in front of you with a blur of a tail behind him. Such a silly boy, he deserves some chin scritches.

“He's smart, told him you'd give 'im this.” Toby says holding out the pup cup to you, as you bend at an awkward angle balancing food in one hand while scratching his dog with the other.

Connor's a little disappointed when his pets stop but jumps to all fours when he sees the pup cup. His tail is wagging so fast you'd be afraid his butt will fall off, if that was a thing that could happen. You go to put the cup in front of him but Toby stops you.

“Hold on, Connor sit.” As soon as his name was called his bottom was on the ground. “You already know his release word so when you want him to take it just say the release.” He says offhandedly while placing the bag in the passengers seat and his drink in the cup holder. You can hear murmured arguing from inside the car, but choose to ignore it. These guys clearly aren't kidnappers, and if they were it's so stupid to kidnap you in broad day light after you just made a purchase and with literally a street in between you and your work, where your boss is waiting for you.

Placing the cup in front of Connor you didn't think it was possible for him to get any more excited but his tail is now undetectable by the human eye. He looks from his treat to you, back, and back to you. Toby said you already knew the release, and there's only one thing you've said to Connor throughout the trip.

“Thank you.” it's immediate, for such a well mannered service dog on and off duty this pup has no table manners. There is whip cream everywhere it's on the ground, his paws, even behind his head. How on earth did he manage that? This must be Connor's only character flaw because Toby is back with what you can only assume are all the napkins he had received in the donut bag, and service vest under his arm.

Once the pup cup was utterly decimated Connor sat happily, butt wiggling, as his dad wiped the rest of the whip cream off of him. Showing the pup the huge glob he had behind his ear only had him licking it off the napkin before licking his dad's face.

“Wrong.” Toby called, a little bummed the pup calmed down a bit but his tail was still going. Toby paused before he slipped the vest back on Connor. Head jerking back twice he looked over to you.

“You wanna say 'bye'?” you perked at the question, if you had a tail of your own it'd probably be wagging just as fast as Connor's.

Do you want to pet a dog, what kind of question was that? Of course you fucking do. Yea you might be late to work but petting a dog is always worth it. Setting your breakfast and coffee on the hood of the car you bent down with Toby to Connor's level.

If that dog could talk he'd tell everyone you gave the best ear scratches, sure you may have smooshed his wrinkly face a ton. But you were so nice and was that baby coos, ah he loves you new best friend. Connor jumped up when you started cooing and gave you a ton of kisses to the face. You couldn't stop laughing and the repetitive motion triggered a tic. Thankfully your mask was on so Toby couldn't see you tongue poke out repeatedly as you said “bleh” in between giggles.

“Wrong.” he says gently pushing the drooling pup away. Shaking the spit off his hand before scratching the pup under the chin, right where the bottom of his ear met his jaw. The pup instantly melted calming into his handlers touch. With his dog now calm he whistles and Connor is standing up straight, Toby slips the vest over his head and secures it. Connor the puppy has turned back into Connor the good boy working pup.

Grabbing your stuff from the hood of the car you turn to Toby and Connor, “Thanks again for the ride, and for letting me pet your dog.”

You're met with a simple shrug, not much phases Toby you've noticed. Aside from his tics that is.

“See ya later Tobias!” with that you're on your way to cross the street legally, and by that you totally jay walked out into traffic in front of the sheriff. You may have jay walked in front of the sheriff, but he didn't do anything so you're fine.

[sturchling]

Turn the Page-Part 2

Part One      Next Part

Here is part two to Turn the Page. 

Marinette has started her own fashion brand, what will happen now?

Hope you like it!

Things moved very quickly after that. Within a few hours, they had a website set up for Marinette. The website showed some of Marinette’s previous work, such as Jagged’s glasses and the hat that won the Agreste contest. The group decided that Marinette should work under a pseudonym, that way Lila wouldn’t target her work. So, from now on Marinette would be known as MDC in the fashion world. Chloe convinced Marinette even reached out to Jagged to try and get a review to post online. With in a few minutes of messaging the rock star, he called Marinette back. “You started a website?! That is rock’in! I can’t wait to order more pieces from you! You are my favorite, rock’in designer!” He kept yelling praises for a while longer. He was yelling so loud, that Nino and the others could hear as well. They were snickering at the conversation. Eventually, Penny took the phone from Jagged. “Of course we will help. We will type up a review for you and send it to you.” With that settled, the group of friends sat back and relaxed for a bit.

 -------------------

About an hour later, Marinette received an email from Jagged. Chloe took the review from the email and went to add it to the website. What they were not expecting was to see that Marinette already had a few requests for commissions. “What?! How did people already find my website? What is going on?” They looked at the requests. two were from Jagged, one from Clara, but the one that stood out was a request from Bruce Wayne. “How did Bruce Wayne hear about me?!” Chloe was just as shocked; she was looking at her phone. “Well, if I had to guess, I would say Jagged probably had something to do with it.” Nino looked at her with a confused look. “What do you mean Chloe?” Chloe replied, “Well, Jagged tweeted about you and your website already.” “He did what?!” Marinette whipped around to face Chloe. Chloe turned her phone, so Marinette could see. On the screen was a tweet sent out by Jagged about 30 minutes ago.

@rock’instone: My favorite designer MDC has opened a website for commission! Can’t wait to get a whole new wardrobe for my next tour!

Marinette stared at the screen in shock. She whipped out her phone and called Jagged’s number. He picked up, “What’s up little rock’in designer? Did you get my commission request?” “Jagged, what did you do?” “What? The tweet? I had to spread the news about you.” Marinette was happy that he loved her work that much. “Thanks for that Jagged, but would have been nice if you warned me! By the way, are you the reason Bruce Wayne sent me a request?” “Yes, we are mates. I have performed at some of his charity galas.” Well, that explained it. After the call, Marinette was still in shock. She was excited of course, but she had not expected this to already be doing so well. Eventually she worked through the shock and actually looked at the requests. Jagged had asked for a new ‘rock’in outfit for himself and penny for their next tv interview in three weeks. Luckily, Marinette had previously drawn some designs for them, so now she just had to make them. Clara was looking for a new dress to wear at an awards show in two months. Finally, Marinette opened the request from Bruce Wayne. He was asking for new suits. Not just for him, but for all of his sons as well. Attached to the request were the measurements for him and his four sons. He asked for them to be completed in time for the annual Wayne gala which will be held in December. That gave Marinette a little over 4 months to complete the job.

  -------------------

Marinette immediately got to work on all of the requests. With her friends help, she was able to complete Jagged’s requests in a little over a week. Marinette really was glad that she had already completed some designs. It saved her some time, which was a precious thing right now. By the end of the month Marinette had also completed Clara’s request and was almost done with Mr. Wayne’s as well. As time went by, she gained more and more requests from her website. Mr. Wayne became a frequent customer after his first order was so wonderfully done. And finished in so quick a time. MDC quickly became a big name in the fashion industry. One of the big draws of MDC was the mystery. Marinette had yet to reveal her identity, so she still had some protection from Lila messing with her business. Marinette’s classmates were still angry with her. They couldn’t understand why Marinette hadn’t changed her behavior yet. Lila kept reporting that Marinette was antagonizing her daily. Lila being a sweetheart didn’t want to report it to the school. She didn’t want to get Marinette in trouble. The class was still saying rude things to Marinette every chance they got. The class’ way of defending their sweet friend Lila. But they still asked Marinette for banners and stuff. Mostly though, Marinette told them no because she was to busy with her commission work. Mrs. Bustier had tried to pressure Marinette into agreeing to the classes demands. But thanks to Chloe, Marinette was able to tell her no and stand her ground.

  -------------------

The months went by and Marinette’s business continued to thrive. The class was now in their final year of lycée. It wasn’t long before MDC was a household name. Marinette couldn’t believe how well things were going. Unfortunately, this had caused a new problem. Lila had started to lie about her alter ego. Marinette came into class one day and heard Lila say, “Oh yes I know MDC! I am close friends with her. I am the one who introduced her to Jagged Stone when he dropped his last designer.” As she said this, she looked at Marinette with a smirk on her face. “Jagged didn’t want to work with a bully for his designer.” The whole class snickered at Marinette, who just ignored the jab and walked to the back of the room. Alya turned to Lila and asked, “Hey do you think you could introduce me to MDC? It would be awesome to score the first interview with her. I would of course keep her identity a secret if she wants.” “I will ask her. But as you know, she is very secretive. She is hiding her identity because she has an ex-boyfriend she is trying to hide from.” Marinette just rolled her eyes at the sheer stupidity of that lie. But, of course, the class bought the lie.

  -------------------

While the class continued to fawn over Lila, Marinette and Chloe talked quietly about the newest commission. Bruce Wayne had sent in another request. By now, Mr. Wayne had earned her trust, and he knew her true identity. Of course, he would have found out anyway when she had to go to Gotham to make a last-minute repair to one of her suits. Somehow, the suit had been slashed, almost like they were attacked by a blade. Marinette just chalked it up to an attack from a Gotham Rogue and didn’t ask questions. Mr. Wayne had asked for another set of suits. His annual gala was coming up again. Ever since he first commissioned her for suits, he asked for a new set for every gala. Chloe and Marinette were reading over the email from Mr. Wayne again.

Dear Ms. Dupain-Cheng

As usual, I would like to ask for a new set of suits for the upcoming Wayne gala. This time however, I wanted to extend an invitation to you. If you would like, I would like to invite you to the Wayne gala this year. I know you prefer to keep your identity a secret, but I thought I would ask. I know you had also discussed eventually revealing your identity, since you are about to graduate. If that is something you want to do, I would be happy to help with that as well. Just let me know if you wish to attend the gala. Have a good day.

Sincerely,

Bruce Wayne

  -------------------

Marinette and Chloe looked at each other. “Well, what do you think Marinette? Are you going to accept the invitation?” “I can’t Chloe. You know that. We kept the whole secret identity thing to keep Lila off my back. If I reveal myself, then she will make me miserable.” “But think about it. Mr. Wayne is right. We are about to graduate, so Lila is about to be inconsequential. I say go for it. What better way to introduce yourself to the world as MDC, then at the Wayne gala? Plus, the red-carpet entrance will be televised. The class is planning on watching the red-carpet, so you could put an end to Lila and rub it in the face of the class right before we all leave. It would be good karma.” Marinette thought about it. It would be nice to finally reveal everything. And she had to admit, it was tempting when she realized it could end Lila’s lying career. A grin spread across her face. “Well, I am going to need a new dress, won’t I?” Chloe grinned back at Marinette. “Yes, you will. Shall I respond to Mr. Wayne saying we would love to attend?” Marinette chuckled at that. “We? You want to come too?” “Of course! I am not letting you go to Gotham alone. Plus, you need someone to keep you from tripping at the red-carpet.” Both girls laughed, while Chloe wrote out the response to Mr. Wayne and asking if it would be alright if she came with Marinette. The rest of the class heard the two girls laughing and Lila said, “What is so funny you two? Something we should know?” The two girls rolled their eyes. Marinette plastered a fake smile on her face and said, “No, nothing for you to worry about. You will find out some other time.” Lila looked irritated that she wasn’t in the loop, but didn’t push it. She knew she wouldn’t win that argument and it may make her look bad. Marinette turned back to Chloe. “So, what kind of dress do you want to wear?”

[p1nkwitch]

This one goes for you two for making me ship this! @trustworthy-liar @nonbinaryeye

Some delicious Rosie/Tadeas for the heart, plus lonelyeyes too cause im a simple woman.

Rosie was not paid enough for what she has to deal with on a regular basis. Usually her job is fairly easy, receiving a few calls, answer some emails for her boss.

Simple stuff.

She can even ignore the pressing feeling of being observed as judged all over the institute that she gets! Shame it wasn't a few years earlier when it could have saved her marriage. But well, life moves on.

No, its not that why she was in a bad mood.

Elias and his husband got into a fight again and they were being passive aggressive.

Again.

She has been receiving messages from the captain to tell her boss how annoying and insufferable he is.

It is the worst thing ever.

And it's not the first time that it happens, she wonders why they don't divorce for real, if they hate each other so much why not stay apart for real! Why go the length to do this charade!

Yet she has no answer, no moment that illuminates her tired and coffee deprived mind.

Only agony at having to bring her boss all the left messages from his husband.

She hates her job so much and if she didn't want to know so badly what the hell is wrong with this place for real she would have quitted a long time ago.

Another day, another annoying morning, she was about to start preparing herself to the new wave of messages to deliver when-

“Hello?” A man approaches her with a tired look. A very handsome one mind you.

“Yes sir? Are you lost, do you help?” Despite being good looking, Rosie doesnt let it disturb her, instead she goes directly to her people managing voice.

“Oh! No, well yes, my boss sent me to deliver these messages by hand to his husband… they are having a bit of a strife right now. So is this Elias Bouchard office?”

Hus-?

Oh!

“You must work for Mr Lukas then! Yes, that is his office, I will let him know you are here Mr…?”

“Tadeas Dahl, pleasure to meet you…?”

“Rosie, Rosie Zampano. Just give me a second”

She imagines that would be the end of it, however the fight must be quite the thing, because Tadeas starts to come everyday, sometimes he delivers the messages and waits for Elias to call him in again to give him a note for Peter.

She feels like they were somehow stuck in school dealing with kids delivering their crushes notes.

Albeit these ones are probably curses.

Because of that she gets to talk with the man, he was… quiet, only answered if she asked him something first and it was a bit annoying she will admit. She craved answers from whatever was going on and this man surely must have something if he works for Mr Lukas and he trusts him enough to deliver messages.

Her staring must make him uncomfortable because he starts to ask her things to pass the time. Or maybe stop her from prying, and she hesitates, but there isn't anything bad about the questions, they are innocuous at abest.

So she relents and talks about herself. She doesn't catch on to how softly he kept looking at her and how his questions became more personal. Tadeas was also sharing about himself unprompted and it made her too excited to realize that sometimes he would flirt with her.

Her ex-husband was loud, his tone of voice would sometimes make her flinch a bit, Tadeas always had the same soft spoken tone, he had a little bit of a drawl in some words, it was… kind of charming.

One day Tadeas comes over with a bouquet of roses, she already pities them, Elias hates to recibe flowers, something about Peter mocking him.

She is unsure how he could mock him with such a nice gift. Her ex never bought her something so pretty.

“Shame about those”

“How come?” He gives her a hesitant look.

“Elias doesn't like flowers from Peter” At that Tadeas face relaxes and he smiles down at her and oh-

Oh it was a lovely smile wasn't it?

“Good luck then they aren't for him Miss Rosie” She blinks uncomprehending for a few seconds when it catches up to her.

“Oh!”

“Yes… if you want them…?” And well, she does. Smiling a bit more coquettishly, she nods.

“Why I would love them Mr Dahl” Standing up a bit, she was still definitely shorter than him. Rosie was just a few inches shorter than Elias and Peter and Tadeas were around the same height.

“They are very beautiful”

“Not as much as the person receiving them” Her face burns bright and he chuckles a bit, again she is struck with how lovely it sounds. Not too loud but enough for her to listen and enjoy.

“Well, I feel bad now, I don't have anything to give you back…”

“I wasn't expecting you, i just… wanted to show my appreciation” Appreciation huh?

“Mm, well… Care to give me your hand?” Curiously he offers it, with a smile and an excitement she hasn't felt since her days at college, she grabs a pen and writes her number on a piece of paper, offering it to him.

“I am afraid I can only offer that, if you want it…?” And miracles of miracles, the man's face cracks and she sees a small blush on his cheeks.

“Well- how could i-” Her phone rings and she laughs nervously and picks it up, Elias says he is done and to let Mr Dahl come in to deliver his message of the day. Relying on the message to the man, he nods and leaves the flowers on her desk.

Ten minutes later he comes back and before leaving he asks for paper and a pen. He scribbles something and gives it to her.

“So you know im for real, would hate for you to think i'm… well not being serious” Her cheeks burn a bit and she smiles at him.

“In that case, may you lean down a bit?” He complies and she kisses his cheek.

“For the trip back” His face was priceless and Rosie had a hit of confidence.

Two days later he sends her a text asking if she is free to have dinner and finally talk for real instead of stealing moments between meetings.

Rosie grins and accepts the invitation.

They have a wonderful time.

“Told you I was right!”

“Oh yes of course you are, you are cupid incarnated you silly little man”

“I won the bet so hush” Peter kisses Elias cheek and spins them.

“I am already dancing aren't i?”

“Mm yes you are” Elias is having so much fun, he didn't originally intended for Rosie and Tadeas to get together. He and Peter were having fun just pretending to fight and sending each other little messages that were actually flirting.

Its when he realized that the lonely man was getting a crush on his secretary that he made a bet to get Peter to dance with him.

It ended up well for everyone involved at least.

“Really how did you even figure they would hit it off!!” His husband is so silly.

“The eye chases knowledge and the lonely tries to hide away. Don't you think they match each other perfectly?” Peter dips him without warning and kisses his neck.

“And when we get too out of it you eye types see us into solidity again huh?” He mumbles against his throat making him shiver.

“Exactly”

“Mmm good” And they kiss.

And somewhere else Rosie kisses her own lonely man, who also likes to have a bossy little eye servant tell him what to do.

Everyone gets to enjoy themselves.

[berryjam17]

Remedy

Jin x f. reader [in smut scene. relatively g/n for the rest ( 'butterfly' could be considered a more feminine nickname)]

Synopsis: Life has left you scarred and unwilling to get too involved with anyone else.

Kim Seokjin is stubborn. Kind. Capable of soothing your wounded spirit.

Warnings: chronic illness, hints of IBD throughout for Y/N and Jungkook, one very in-your-face implication that Y/N has IBD in the beginning, internalized ableism, swearing, unprotected sex, little bit of dom!Jin / sub!Y/N, oral (F receiving), fingering (F receiving)

Word Count: 6k

repost, I had to fix some issues.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The waiting room was hushed, with the tapping of keys from the receptionist’s desk as background noise. You glanced expectantly at the clock, disappointed when only two minutes had passed. It was 6:17 PM, and you doubted your roommate would arrive before 6:40. Lisa was a graduate teaching assistant at the local college. She’d left a message explaining that she had to print off a paper before she could drive your car back.

This late in the day, there was one other person waiting. You studied him, more out of boredom than anything else.

Black hair fell in waves to frame his forehead and eyes. He was dressed casually in a soft pink hoodie and jeans, his rings reflecting the overhead light as he skimmed through a magazine.

He abandoned it briefly, lifting his head to lock eyes with you. His lips twitched. A frown? A smile? You couldn’t tell.

He flipped the magazine around and held it up, so that you could see the pages he’d been on. It was a painting of a cherry tree in full bloom, with hints of a cerulean sky between the branches.

Beautiful.

The next spread was for Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Month. His brow furrowed as he witnessed you retreat into your shell, looking anywhere but at him.

Realization dawned when he saw the contents. “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

The door to the E.R. clicked open, interrupting him, and a younger man crossed the threshold. Magazine Man shot to his feet and hurried over to him. “How are you feeling, Kook?”

“Tired.” ‘Kook’ shrugged into the coat he was handed, almost trodding on the other man’s heels as they exited the waiting room.

Stupid. You slumped forward, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing your forehead. Get a grip.

He sat a few seats away. You kept your head down, not eager to embarrass yourself further.

You’d heard his voice before, but for the first time, you realized how melodious it was. “I didn’t look before I turned the page that day. I’m sorry.”

You looked up. “I know. I’m sorry too, for how I acted.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He relaxed into the seat. “I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“I was calling you Magazine Man in my head. Just so you know.”

He had a nice laugh. “There are worse names, I suppose. What’s yours?”

“Exhausted panda.”

“Panda? Is that your favorite animal?”

You blinked, taken aback at his interest. “Uh, no. That's not why. It’s for the dark circles under my eyes...it’s hard for me to get enough sleep.”

“...I see wings.” His voice was hesitant. Gentle.

You couldn’t understand why he’d been trying to boost your morale. “Oh...well. My actual name is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The next time you saw Seokjin, he was worried when he learned you didn’t have an immediate ride home. Lisa had left on an urgent errand for her mother, and you hadn’t driven in the first place. It was kind of impossible to do that when you were incapacitated by pain and nausea.

He offered to drop you off after he took his brother home.

You couldn’t reply right away. You had some idea of who he was. You knew his name, and that he loved his brother dearly. But you didn’t know him well enough to feel completely comfortable.

But pain had always been your strongest motivator. The easiest fix for the agony snaking along your guts was a heating pad at home.

And here Seokjin was, with the tempting words that made you imagine how sweet the relief would be.

You said yes.

Seokjin stopped next to you while you were browsing through the earrings at the local Walmart, almost giving you a heart attack before you recognized him.

He was with his brothers. You hadn’t known that there were others, besides Jungkook. But then again, you had only met in the hospital.

Thankfully, Jungkook appeared to be fine. But you knew all too well that didn't necessarily mean he felt that way. Still, his smile almost rivaled Seokjin’s.

Seokjin gave the jewelry a cursory scan before he snatched a pair left over from Christmas, stamped with Santa Claus’ image. “These would be perfect for you.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his hand away. “More like for you.”

He didn't laugh. You were surprised to see him scrutinizing your features. “You’re feeling better.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. He didn’t intend to, but his words reminded you of the fact that every meeting up to that point had happened with you rendered helpless in one way or another. You despised the idea that people thought of you as frail, vulnerable...weak.

Especially Seokjin.

But it was undeniable. You were weaker than the average person. Good days where you could cope had been reduced, and there weren't many days at all that you didn’t feel some symptom.

Seokjin had a window to Jungkook’s experiences. But even then, there was a disconnect between them. What then, did you hope that he could do for you, that you couldn’t do for yourself?

“I found something for you.” He took your hand in his. Cool metal pressed into your skin.

You uncurled your fingers to see midnight blue stones glinting up at you, set as the leaves of an earring climber. “It’s beautiful.”

He sent you a wink. “Of course it is. What would you choose for me, Y/N?”

They stood out almost immediately. You retrieved the pair of silver chain drop earrings and deposited it in his hand. They were rather plain, save for the metal stars at the ends of both.

He rolled the fine metal links across his thumb.

You hadn’t spoken, but his head lifted. He refused to look away from your eyes. His own had softened, resulting in the tension rippling across your shoulders. You didn't like it when people looked at you like that.

Seokjin had never seen one of your days, only glimpses. He had no idea of what you endured.

He had no right to meet your gaze with that familiarity.

“Butterfly.” His voice was hushed, stopping you in your tracks.

“‘Butterfly’...?”

“Can I call you that?”

“I didn’t think we were on a nickname basis. If we were friends, I’d allow it.”

“Friends…” he mused. “That’s fair.”

The image of rain, threatening to break through a wall of clouds, rolled across your mind.

He didn’t relent, daring to reach out. He folded your fingers around the piece of paper. “If you need a ride. Or if you want to talk.”

“Do you just carry your number around?”

He glanced downwards. “I wrote it after I saw you here.”

You nodded stiffly. You couldn’t see yourself turning to him for further help, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Besides, there was no harm in keeping the paper, just for a while.

-----

He had lovely handwriting. You left his note on your desk after entering his contact, though you debated for several weeks on what to text.

If you decided to text at all.

Red lights cutting through the midnight darkness and echoes of his voice in the enclosed space lingered. The memory of his presence paired with the absence of pain.

You were unable to forget that you owed him, and you wouldn’t be able to let the memory fade until you’d done something in return.

He replied with an invitation to a homemade dinner. It didn’t make sense. Honestly, it was frustrating. You just wanted to pay him back and be done with it.

But again, he insisted. The little voice in your head whispered that it’d be easier to explain yourself in person, rather than over text.

While Seokjin had dug in right away, you set your fork down. “I have to be clear about this. I said yes because I owe you for the ride home before. There’s no other reason.”

He gazed at you from across the table. “I did that because I wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Seokjin, please.”

He sighed. “That’s what friends do. Can we be friends, Y/N? Not...whatever this is?”

You traced the rim of your glass, collecting condensation on your fingertip. “...I guess we can try.”

“Thank you.”

You glanced at him. His gentle smile and warm brown eyes caused an ache to bloom in your chest. Feeling your body temperature spike, you broke eye contact with him.

The clock on the wall read 6:32. The muted ticking of its hands and the clinking of silverware were the only noises in the room.

For a house with six other occupants, especially in the evening, you would’ve expected to overhear conversations and movement. “Where are your brothers?”

“Jungkook went to watch a movie with Jimin and Tae. Yoongi’s at his studio. Namjoon and Hoseok went back to campus to study.”

“Does that happen often? You getting the house to yourself?”

He smiled. “I may have...provided incentive to the youngest ones.”

You stumbled upon a new author and earned a couple more pieces of literature to proofread. Since you hadn’t gone to college, you were grateful each time you found a new client.

When Seokjin refused monetary payment, you came up with a plan B.

While you couldn't be exactly sure of what Jungkook’s trigger foods were, you were reasonably sure that they included the worst ones for you. Red sauce (and everything that entailed) was pure evil on the most basic list of what foods to avoid. You had no clue what his other brothers liked, so you packed a variety of food.

He answered on the second ring. “Y/N?”

“Hey, you’re at home, right? Is everyone else there too?”

“Just a sec. ...Yoongi’s on the way. Everyone’s here beside him. Why?”

“I bought food, so we can all have dinner together.”

“Alright. You’re at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait there. I’ll come get you.”

“I can drive, Seokjin. But thank you.”

“See you soon, butterfly. Drive safely.”

--

Seokjin swung the door open. Surprise flickered across his expression. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You lifted the basket, as if he hadn’t already seen it. “I brought food.” As if you hadn’t told him that earlier. You cringed, wondering why his compliment had thrown you off so badly.

If you were trying to distract him, it hadn’t worked. His thumb grazed your earlobe and the jewelry adorning it. “It matches you.”

Seokjin’s presence in your life was like the moon. You’d walked for so long through the night that at first, even his light had been blinding. But it hadn’t taken too long to become accustomed to his honest, kind nature.

A few months went by. Though Seokjin hadn’t exactly hesitated to talk to you before, sending you cute animal pictures or memes, he became thoughtful when you saw him in person.

“I feel like you’re hiding something from me.” You sat across the table from him. His brothers had already finished eating and scattered throughout the house and yard. You’d declined his invitation for food, but accepted for the company.

He finished chewing, his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” You looked - very deliberately - at his ears.

He bolted out of his seat. “Hey!”

You waited a long moment before rising. His hands pressed into your shoulders, holding you firmly in place. “Y/N, don’t turn around and I’ll talk.”

“Okay.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Special...in what way?”

“As my friend. As someone I like.” He claimed the chair next to you.

“Oh..”

“Can we give it a try? It doesn’t need to be official. I just want to know you better.”

“Seokjin, I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. I’m not...suited for one.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But why do you think you’re not suitable?”

You drew patterns on the table. “Um, I’ve just never wanted another person there…”

His hand settled over yours. He squeezed your fingers. “Sure. But why, Y/N?”

Your throat grew tight. You choked out, “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

He drew you to him, tucking your head against his shoulder. You blinked tears away.

“You’ve had to be strong for so long.” He murmured, melancholy infusing his tone. “You’re not alone anymore, butterfly.”

------

It took a few hours to surface from the dark ocean.

You were in Seokjin’s room, watching him explore Hyrule. He had a Nintendo Switch hooked up to his TV, with a Breath of the Wild cartridge inserted. “Seokjin?”

“Hmm?” He frowned as he furiously mashed buttons. “Just a minute.” On the screen, Link was fighting a masked man in red. The enemy teleported around the battlefield, annoying Seokjin. “Stand still and let me kill you!”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his attacks connected. You kept an eye on the enemy’s HP bar, cheering inwardly each time it went down. After vanquishing the masked enemy, he set the Switch on his bedside table and turned his attention to you. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I’m ready to talk about why I’ve been afraid of relationships.”

He inclined his head, a silent ‘continue.’

“The fear of being a burden is constantly in the back of my mind, because of my health. I always thought...why would someone choose that? Why choose me, when so much of my life is this disease?”

“Because you’re a lovely person.”

“There are so many lovely people out there who are actually healthy.”

“But they’re not you.”

“I’m not any other person either, does that make them any less valuable?”

“No, of course not. That’s not-” He groaned. “Y/N, you’re making this impossible. Everyone is special. But you are in my life, and you’re important to me. I don’t give a damn about your health.”

You wanted to believe it.

If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have. Even so, doubts haunted you.

Seokjin was a good person to the core. You’d seen that when he took care of Jungkook, in his cooking for his brothers, and how he’d bolstered your spirits when it was all too much.

You could trust him.

But you didn’t want to drag him down. He deserved better.

He took your hand, thawing the ice in your bloodstream. “Look at me.”

You did. He intertwined his fingers with yours, his rings warm against your skin. “I know my own mind. And I like you. Your health doesn’t scare me.”

“It’s easy to say that.”

“If we were in a relationship, I could prove it. Remember Jungkook, too. I’ve seen his side of it.”

“..Okay. I’ll do my best.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t need to do that. Butterfly, just be yourself.”

-----

Euphoria was unfamiliar. You poked at the dreamlike haze, searching for shadows. You relaxed when the sunlight faded. A full day had passed, and it hadn’t been a fantasy.

Grains of sand shifted under your shoes. Waves rolled against the shore, and he was at your side. “Jin, why did you start talking to me? In the hospital, I mean.”

“You looked sad. And I thought...maybe you could help Jungkook. He struggles with it a lot. If anyone can help, it’d be you, right?”

Moonlight spilled a silver path across the water. “I don’t know that I’d be able to help another person when I’m not in the best mindset. He should talk to a professional, I think.”

--

Jin parked next to the curb. You unbuckled the seat belt when he spoke, rushing through his words. “Y/N, there's something...I have to be honest. I didn’t ask you out purely for my sake. The next relationship I had, I wanted to meet someone similar to Jungkook.”

The euphoric bubble disintegrated. “What?”

“I’m sorry. But please believe me, I care about you.”

“Me or my disease?”

His face was veiled in shadow. “Y/N, it’s you.”

“I need time to think, Jin. You were using that part of me...and I just..”

---

His confession was a new experience. You’d struggled with self-esteem for years, only exacerbated by the crushing diagnosis. To fight with a resistant body and know that you would never, ever be freed from that for as long as you lived...it was hard.

There was always the hope of remission. But the risk of a flare-up was there too, in every period of peace.

Seokjin had deliberately sought you out because of your burden.

You knew that his intention was admirable and came from love for his brother. But the thought that not all of your interactions had been for the sake of, well, interacting...hurt.

A lot.

Were you not enough?

-------

Jungkook called after a few days, asking to talk in person. You agreed after he promised everyone else would be out of the house.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, looking him over. He didn’t appear pale, tired, or otherwise sick. What you were really concerned about were the possible symptoms you couldn't see.

“I’m okay. I managed to finish a painting.” His lopsided smile vanished. “I heard what happened.”

“Yeah...I assume you’re going to explain.”

“I’d like to. But I won’t if you don’t want to hear it.”

You couldn’t say no to his earnest request. “I’m listening.”

“He didn’t mean it like that. His exes were nice enough people, but they couldn’t understand how protective Jin-hyung and everyone else was of me. They wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He was just hoping that someone like me would be more sympathetic.”

You nodded slowly. “I can see that.”

Light glimmered in his eyes. “Can I pass on a message?”

“It’s alright, I’ll call him later. Jungkook, your brother said he was worried about you. Can I help you at all?”

He blinked at you, confusion clouding his face. “Help me..? On what?”

“Your health. If I can help, I mean. I only have my life to go off of, but I’ve been talking through it with a therapist.”

“Oh. Um...I want to ask you some questions.”

----

You dialed his number with shaking fingers.

“Y/N?” The concern in his voice made tears spring to your eyes.

“..yeah. It’s me. Um, listen, Jin. I talked to Jungkook earlier...and I thought a lot.” You opened the door, stepping onto the deck. When you tilted your head back, you could see the stars.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. I just..needed to ask you something. It was real, right?”

“Yes, butterfly. I wouldn’t have gone this far if I didn’t care about you.”

“Okay.” You wiped at your eyes. “I still love you, Jin. Can we start over?”

“I’d like that.”

Your heart warmed when he blew you a kiss over the phone.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good night, Jin.”

“What do you want to do in the future, Jin?”

“I’m supposed to take over the family business. After all, I got a degree for it.”

“Do you want that?” You asked, hearing wistfulness and regret entwined in his voice.

“I...no, not exactly. But I’m the eldest.” He nudged his plate of fried chicken.

“That doesn’t matter. What do you want to do, Jin?”

He dragged his plate closer to him, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re so good to everyone. What about yourself?”

“I’d like to work in a hospital...not a doctor, but maybe a nurse? I want to help people.”

“You can do that and still be there for your family.”

Although he didn’t look completely convinced, he resumed eating. You were glad for that, at least.

Lisa wasn’t home when Jin pulled in, so he parked behind your car. He caught a glimpse of a bike, sheltered safely under the deck. “Is that yours?”

You followed his finger. “Yeah. It’s been a while, though.”

“Why? The weather's nice.”

Resignation dyed your tone a muted gray. “I can’t walk up a flight of stairs without getting tired most of the time. I don’t have the stamina for biking.”

He was holding an extra helmet and standing next to a light blue bike. Your heart leaped when you noticed it was a two-seater bicycle.

Jin clasped the strap under your chin. He sat in front and kicked off.

You didn’t look at the scenery very much.

--

Jin was still seated when you clambered off his bike and removed your helmet. You attempted to do the same to his, but nervousness hampered your movements. He reached up and unclasped the strap. Carefully lifting his helmet, you set it on the ground.

You could swear he had a halo. He was cast in an azure glow.

Of course, you knew it was all in your mind. He couldn’t claim to be of angelic status any more than he could emit light. Physically, anyway.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him. “I want to spend more time with you today, doing something you like.”

His eyes lit up. He wheeled the bike back to his car. “How about playing some games?”

You laughed. “You bet.”

--

Jin was a master at Mario Kart. You tried to keep up with him (and Jungkook, who’d entered the living room before Jin started the game.)

But it was over for you when you looked over at Jin. It was too easy to get lost in his shining eyes and victorious laughter when he edged ahead in the race.

At the end of the round, you leaned against his shoulder. “‘M tired.”

He paused the game and plucked a pillow from the couch. “Lay down. I like to think I'm more comfy than the floor.”

You hugged the pillow to your chest, laying your head on his lap. You craned your neck to look up at him, smirking at the adorable tinge of red on his face and ears. The satisfaction transformed into a softer, rosy-hued emotion as you admired the intensity in his eyes.

Beautiful. He was in his element, playing a game he loved.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Even the grumbles of frustration when his cart fell behind didn’t tug you farther away from the realm of slumber.

The living room was gone, replaced by the dining room. Jin was standing in front of you. You were holding several forget-me-not flowers out to him. In his hands, the blue darkened to purple before fading into pink.

“What flower is that?”

He tucked it behind your ear. “It's saxifrage, butterfly.”

The stem was poking your cheek. You swiped at the sensation. It didn’t depart - if anything, the prodding intensified.

You blinked to see Jin, his index finger hovering above your face. Jungkook was splayed out on the couch behind him, fast asleep.

He broke into a grin. “You were out for an hour, sleepyhead.”

You stretched. “Well, I guess it’s time to go then.”

“Actually…” he pursed his lips. “If you want to, we could have dinner. I don’t really have time to make anything, but we could do takeout.”

You poked his cheek in retaliation, then swiped your thumb across his lips. They parted under your touch. “I’d love that.”

------------

Lisa landed a job as a journalist and moved out of the apartment.

Jin responded to the news with apprehension. “I don’t want you to be alone. You could try living with us.”

“That’s...I still have five months left on the lease. Besides, I can’t live with seven people, Jin, even if they’re your family. I need a separate bathroom.”

“Oh. Right.” He sighed over the phone.

“Did you hear back from the college yet?”

“Not yet. But I think I’ll be accepted...at least, I hope so.”

“They’d be crazy not to. You already have a good record with them.”

You could tell he was smiling. “Thanks, butterfly.”

“How’s Jungkook doing right now?”

Relief saturated his voice. “He got a good report from his doctor. They said he’s in remission.”

“That’s great! Tell him I said ‘Good job! Don’t overdo it.’”

He chuckled. “I will.”

The door to Jin’s house opened before you could even knock. He leaned against the doorframe, with his forearm bearing most of his weight and his ankles crossed.

And his outfit...You raised an eyebrow. He was stunning, but you didn’t understand why he’d donned a fitted black suit when you were just coming over to hang out. At least, you’d thought it was a casual invitation. Then again, he had mentioned that he’d kicked his brothers out for a few hours.

His ears were turning a condemning shade of red the longer you stared at him.

“Jin…? Did you have ulterior motives, perhaps?”

“...Maybe a few..?”

You took a step closer. “I don’t mind them, Jin. Not from you, not like this.”

“Oh…” A small tremor ran through him as you grasped his tie.

“Although you didn’t need to dress up. If you could see yourself...well, besides through a mirror. You’re breathtaking, Jin.”

“Ah...okay.” Jin looked down at himself, a seed of doubt flickering in his expression. As if you could possibly be talking about anyone else.

You laughed softly. “Come here, you ridiculous man.” Tugging on his tie, you connected lips. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you eagerly granted.

Jin’s hands settled on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He lifted you into the air as you flung your arms around his neck. Your legs wrapped around his middle before he supported your thighs.

You nibbled on his pierced earlobe, blowing a soft breath out and watching the silver drop earring sway. His grip tightened on you.

“Jin?”

“Yeah?”

Glimmers of moonlight reflected in his eyes.

You have the most beautiful heart.

How was I lucky enough to have these moments with you?

“I’m really happy we met, you know.” As he entered his room, you nudged the door shut with your foot.

“Me too.” Everything about Jin seemed impossibly tender. His voice, his eyes, his smile. He lowered you onto the bed with the same amount of care.

You shimmied out of your jeans, using his shoulder for balance. Your shirt landed on the floor next as you knelt. You undid his belt and started sliding his dress pants down his toned thighs, palming his bulge as you went. Above you, Jin let out a quiet groan, his fingers momentarily frozen in their descent of his shirt buttons.

Heat pooled in your core as he took time to fold his clothes and hang them over the back of a chair. He was playing with you now, you were sure. There was no way he didn’t know how much you yearned for his touch.

When he was within reach, you tangled a hand in his hair and slotted your mouth against his.

His hands slid up your bare back, lingering at the bra band. The fabric pressed into your skin before falling.

Jin pulled away. The lunar glow of his irises had been swallowed by a starless night. “I want to see all of you.”

A shiver raced down your spine. Breathless, you let the garment drop to the floor, followed by your underwear.

“Sit back properly, Y/N.”

You didn’t look away from him as you scooted backwards, into a nest of pillows. He sank to his knees. “Can I go down on you, butterfly?”

Butterfly.

You trembled at that, how he could call you so innocently, yet resemble nothing but temptation. His pupils were blown out in lust, his honey skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, and his lips swollen with your kisses.

“Yes.” You managed. “But you still have boxers on.”

He smiled at that. “I’m taking care of you right now. Lay back and relax.”

A yelp escaped when he gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body in order to place a pillow there. He propped himself up on his elbows.

Jin’s hair was silky, brushing against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. His thumb glided along your folds, paying attention to your clit. His tongue circled the bundle of nerves, switching between broad swipes and targeted licks.

Your body jolted when he inserted a finger past your entrance, curling it inside you. He lapped up the juices, his gaze flicking to yours.

A fresh wave of arousal hit you.

The casual way Jin had held you captive with just a look...he’d taken root in your life, to the point that you’d suffer without him. You’d recover, eventually.

You always did.

But not at full health. Your body couldn’t even remember what that was like, and your mind struggled to process the distance between who you were ‘before,’ and who you were ‘after.’

“Butterfly?” Jin called you back. He’d sat up.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“You looked...sad.”

You rested your forehead against his. “It’s not much. I’m just grateful to have you in my life.”

His hands cupped your face. Searching your eyes, he asked, “Do you still want to continue?”

He saw the confirmation as you spoke, “Yes.”

Jin removed his boxers, tossing them on the floor. He positioned his cock at your folds and eased into you, watching your reactions. You bit your lip at the beginning of each movement, and let out a little sigh as pleasure overwhelmed any fading discomfort.

When he bottomed out, Jin touched your cheek. “Can I move, baby?” At your nod, he rolled his hips, delivering controlled, powerful strokes.

“Perfect for me.” He rasped. “My beautiful butterfly.” Jin intertwined his fingers with yours, gazing down at you. Locks of hair curled against his forehead, his earrings catching light with every thrust.

You dragged your nails across his back. His shoulders were incredibly broad, tapering to his more delicate waist. Despite all the power he possessed, he was one of the most gentle people you knew.

He bent his head. You felt a slight sting above your collarbone, but he soothed the love bite with his tongue. He latched onto a breast, teasing the sensitive bud and stoking the fire in your core. It raced along your nerves, leaving them alight and craving more.

Perhaps Jin was the best (non-medicinal) cure for you.

You traced his jaw, lightly hooking a finger under his chin and urging him further over you. You nosed at the hollow of his throat, and a moan tumbled from his lips. When you nipped at his skin and laved the mark, his hips stuttered.

“Y/N,” his voice had deepened, “I don’t wanna hold back anymore.”

You looked into his eyes. “Then don’t.”

“On your knees.” Ji-...Seokjin growled.

You scrambled to obey. His palms pressed into your shoulder blades, guiding your hands flat against the bed. You melted inside at the dual caress on either side of your spine, and swallowed a whimper when his hands became rough, kneading your ass.

“Let me hear your pretty voice.” He sank into your warmth.

Seokjin set a brutal pace, pounding into you. His panting, the slap of skin against skin, and your ragged breathing intermingled. You were hurtling towards the edge of release, but a wave of bone-deep weariness was licking at your heels.

His rhythm slowed. You had time to wonder if Seokjin or Jin was in charge, before his hand pushed your legs apart. He rubbed circles on your clit, varying the pressure of his touch.

You were falling apart under Seokjin’s skilled fingers, but the oncoming orgasm sapped your strength. Your arms shook, threatening to give out. Unable to fight the fatigue creeping in around your joints and limbs any longer, you gasped, “I can’t..Jin, I’m exhausted.”

He pulled out. In equal, warring measure, your body ached for rest and to have him inside you again.

You curled into a ball, listening to his steps fade. He was back within a minute, his touch and voice soft when he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N?”

You made a muffled noise, hidden by the pillow. His weight sank into the bed. You lifted your head reluctantly when he stayed silent. “Jin...I'm so sorry.”

He shook his head. “You did your best, baby.”

Your lip quivered as you cast your gaze down. “-...do better for you.”

“I know.” He started to dab at your neck with a damp cloth. “You’re more important, Y/N. There are other ways to get off.”

You sat up slowly. Jin’s hand moved to your shoulder.

A strangled noise left your throat when you glanced downwards. You should’ve known, since he hadn’t climaxed earlier.

Actually seeing his erection made it sink in.

“How can I help you?”

“You don’t need to do anything.”

You were begging now, tears welling in your eyes. “Jin, baby, please. Let me help you.”

He wrenched his gaze away from your pleading, heartsick expression. “I’m sorry.”

You threw the duvet over your head, but it didn’t dampen the sound of running water in the next room.

He was taking a shower.

The tears overflowed.

You wanted to be his equal. He’d focused so much on your own pleasure, forgoing his own.

The shower stopped not long after. You burrowed closer to the wall, bunching the duvet in your fists to hold it down.

His steady footsteps halted at the edge of the bed. “Can you let me in, butterfly?”

Your resolve wavered, and you released the fabric. Cool air brushed against your back as you heard him get into bed. The duvet fell again, covering you up to the shoulder.

Jin embraced you from behind. His palm radiated warmth against your stomach, and he hooked his leg over yours.

You tried to wriggle out of his arms. “How can you want to touch me now?”

His voice was unsteady. “Because you’re my miracle, Y/N.”

“But I didn’t...you wouldn’t….I didn’t help you.”

“I didn’t want you to because you’re exhausted, butterfly. When you feel up to it, you can.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay.” Jin whispered into your ear. He didn’t loosen his hold, and you placed your other hand on his forearm.

Not to push him away, but to reassure him you understood. That you were grateful...for everything. And that you’d try your hardest to have him finish with you.

He listened to your breathing even out and felt your body go lax as sleep claimed you. A small twinge of regret flashed through him when he remembered the letter he’d received.

He’d tell you later, he decided. You needed rest, not excitement (even if you had been awake.)

----

“This is amazing, Jin!” You were beaming by the time you reached the end of his letter. “When does the program start?”

“September 5th.” He was smiling too, his dream glowing in his eyes.

Pride fluttered in your chest. “You’ll be great, baby. Wait-” A slight frown marred your forehead. “Is that why you had a suit on before? To celebrate?”

“Well...yes. It was the first reason, anyway.”

You covered your face with your hands. “Oh god. I just assumed...fuck. I’m sorry, Jin.”

He almost laughed, but guessed that would not have been the kindest reaction. “No, there was that too. I posed in the doorway like that to seduce you.”

You snorted, but it was betrayed by the warm curve of your lips. “Of course.”

------------------

His reason for wanting to be a nurse was simple. Two of the most important people in his life depended heavily on the hospital and its staff. He knew how important it was to have well-functioning hospitals, not just for you and Jungkook, but for everyone.

You were just happy to see him working towards his dream. You had no doubt that he'd be able to play a part in other people’s lives.

Jin had a healing presence, after all.

__

copyright : 2021, berryjam17

[archived-mononokeland]

ask : Okay so I really like your LeviXhanahaki!reader one shot, I was wondering if there was any chance of your writing a follow up of maybe Levi finding out after MC has passed away.

ack - so i planned to post this along with the other ending version, but i figured it’s long overdue at this point and i should go with what i have!

warning: major angst, death, blood, hanahaki

“ too late  “

It’s been centuries.

Well—it hasn’t, but that was what Levi felt like. He knows it’s maybe been a month, maybe two, but every second felt excruciating.

You weren’t joining the next exchange program. That much was found out when Diavolo called a meeting, saying that you declined his offer. He didn’t say that it was because you tore his letter and threw it away, but the concluded version was that you just would not come for another year.

Of course, it was met by questions and heartbroken glances between the brothers, but with time, they respected your wishes. No matter what it was, they’d come to terms with it. Besides, it’s not as if they’re not allowed to stay in contact with you.

Except for one.

The amount of anxiety that crushed Levi was astronomical when each time you left him on read. Well, that wasn’t that often, but you never did that before! Even so, your answers always came late, with a reply that. . .seem to lack your familiar flare.

The thoughts that came with him being the Avatar of Envy came, stronger now. And each time, he reminded himself that hey, you have a life of your own in the human world (but perhaps that was a tamer form of his spiraling mind).

Until you became more and more off.

Not only him, your response spread to each brother. Such topic was only brought up when they mentioned the differences in your texts during a groupchat talk. You’ve declined every phone call they made (well, more of that you let the phone ring and never pick up, despite you being online, but same thing), which was understandable to some.

Each thought it was an individual thing, and it wasn’t.

It has been brought to you for questioning, yes. They had their own talk of, “Hey, human, are you okay?” And even then, your answer would be a, “yeah, sorry, i just feel tired ^^;;”

Whether they bought it or not, is unknown to you. You hope they do, anyway.

Each day dragged on for the third-brother of them all. He knew he’d miss the human, they were his true friend after all, but. . .this feeling wasn’t one he liked. At all. In fact, he despised it to his very core. But why was he feeling like this for a normie. . .?

It didn’t matter, he thought as he turned off his D.D.D. Another text of his left on read. . .he hoped you were okay.

[ ✿ ]

 You hate it, you despise it. Each day is harder, increasing in the amount of petals—hell, fully bloomed flowers appeared a lot more often—thrown out. You thought it’d decrease since your departure from Devildom, but unfortunately, it seems to be the opposite. You don’t know what it is, shouldn’t the effects be lessened once you’re not in the vicinity of the other party?

Or maybe it was the factor that he was a demon, and you were a human. The situation of a human getting Hanahaki from a creature of hell was very likely to not be documented in any books you’ve read.

Still, even so, you were going to die in the near future. The flowers tell you as much.

They were enough to make a bouquet, you notice. All the ones you’ve spat out were in perfect condition (minus the spit and blood), no tears at the petals, even, in some cases, the stamen and carpels seemed as if untouched, and not forced out your throat. And as a result, you’ve began to collect them and put them in pots you found around the house. Whether you’d like to admit it or otherwise, it was one of the only moments you left your room.

Each type of flower, you fitted in different pots and vases. The most prominent ones that you remember were hyacinths (purple, to be exact), gardenias, marigolds, and yarrows. You keep the other, lesser flowers, all huddled in one big vase. Perhaps they’ll be the secret pieces to your tragedy.

You wonder how long they’ll last after you die.

Such a waste of beauty, you ponder, gently plucking a gardenia from the rest. The white petal flutters as you twirl it aimlessly. The white canvas once red, now back to its purest colors, until it will inevitably wilt away.

The sound of a knock flooded you ears, breaking down your thoughts and pulling you back to earth. You shoved the flower back to its place and hurried up to the door. Who could it be? You haven’t had a visitor in a while now.

Whoever came to mind while you made your way, it certainly wasn’t correct. Instead, you were greeted with a tuft of white hair that you didn’t exactly expect at all. “Solomon!” Your surprise was very much evident both in your voice, and facial expression, “It’s. . .nice to see you here.”

“Hello,” he greets you with an easy smile of his own, “It’s quite the surprise visit, isn’t it? I apologize for that.”

“It’s fine, really!” You force a laugh, sounding a lot hoarse than you thought it would. Even so, “Please, come in!”

You ushered him inside and you close the door behind you. The sight of him looking around your abode doesn’t escape your gaze, it just leaves you a bit flustered, “I’m so sorry it isn’t. . .that presentable, I wasn’t expecting a guest. I can go make some tea, or anything.”

“It’s fine, really.” He gives you yet another small smile, but it quickly turns into a rather sympathetic gaze. He’s noticed your weary expression, your tired tone. “But I think you should go grab a drink for yourself.”

“. . .Yeah, I will. The living room’s down the hall, make yourself at home.”

You don’t raise an objection—the two of you know how much you need it. Well, more you than him, but that’s to be expected.

You get yourself a glass of water, and the cold water punches at your sore throat. A choked up feeling remains, but it’s been there for a while, and you pay no mind to it. You just hope you don’t start coughing up near your guest.

You push any thoughts left to the back of your mind and leave your kitchen. You arrive at your living room to find Solomon situating himself on your couch comfortably. You do the same across from him, “So, Solomon, I thought you were going back for a next year in the program?”

“Likewise to you,” his words left a cold metal press against your body, “but I told Diavolo I’d join next year.”

“I see.”

“And I was surprised when I heard you weren’t coming also. I thought you would’ve been ecstatic to go back.” His eyebrows arched at you, his head tilting slightly.

A sigh, “Well, yes, but—“ your eyes involuntarily glance at a vase positioned near a window, filled with the flowers from your lungs, “. . .it’s complicated.”

A silence hung itself in the air for a good few while, until the other hummed. “I see.” A mumble, nearly inaudible as his lips barely parted. And the silence continued. He’s staring at you, you feel it, and you refuse to stare back.

A cough threatens to break itself out from you. You beg for it to have mercy, please, just for now.

And a plead never stops a tragedy. Even if you fall to your knees, and beg and beg and beg, the scythe will strike you either way. Because, does Death hesitate when it sees someone in such a state? To not rip open the wound, for the reason that it’s time for the wound to be seen?

In the end, blood and secrets spill like a broken mess.

“You’re going to die, aren’t you?”

His question was a whisper, leaving your body cold and alone. Your eyes, while not even looking at him, wavered and roamed. Another flower blooms.

“. . .How. . .?” And, such is the only thing you could say. The petals inside you stroke your organs, and air feels impossible. Shocked, you are, and the world crashes down all at once.

Solomon’s gaze doesn’t give away the answer. And it looks like his lips won’t either; at least not a clear one. “. . .I have my ways.”

A fond smile touches your lips, now tracing over your eyes. “S. . Shady-ass.” Slowly, the world becomes fuzzy dots and continuously blurry. The wound you’ve so desperately tried to stitch close is ripping away, thread by thread. Another flower blooms.

“. . .And you haven’t told them, have you?”

Another question, and another stab to your soul. The wound is third-fourth of spilling its stained secrets, all in courtesy of you. “. . .Is this the purpose of your visit?” The world fades in and out, clear then muddy— “You’re. . .cruel, y’know?” Another flower blooms.

And not a word comes from him next. The silence was enough to rip at your open gash.

The world fades out of your vision as the flowers spill, coughing and clawing its way out of your throat. You don’t feel your body collapsing to the floor, your knees giving up on you, your body writhing itself to keep a stance. You don’t feel the widened gaze Solomon has on you.

Your focus is on your pain; and it slowly becomes your world. The blood that’s spilt, the scratches denting your lungs, the flood of colors sprayed mercilessly, the tears holding no stops or ends as it mixes with the others.

For a moment, you wonder if your blood and spit and tears are the only thing the flowers’ve felt.

[ ✿ ]

“I don’t get it! I know they’ve left me on read for a long time now, but they don’t even come online anymore!”

Levi’s exasperated words fill through the room without a problem. The other brothers in the room would’ve told him to calm down, had they not been on the same level of worry as he was. After all, it wasn’t only him that noticed you’ve not came online and even read any messages they sent for what—a week now?

They’ve all tried to contact you through various means, from the surface leveled texts and phone calls, to even using your pact to send messages by igniting your nerves through pain or the sorts.

None of them worked.

“Please, Lucifer, you have to let someone go up and check on them! Anyone!” Levi’s pleads added the weight of the burden said brother felt on his shoulders. He, too, felt the strong urge to go up and see you, but workload has inconveniently increased against his favors.

Even so, Lucifer sent no reply to his brother and looked away with a hesitant and equally pained gaze. However, after so many requests from his brothers, all those he shared, he relented, “. . .I will talk to Lord Diavolo about this.”

Glances were exchanged between all seven demons, and Levi huffed, sitting up from his chair in the dining room. The rest watched as he stormed into the hallway, and most likely, into his room.

Immediately, he made a beeline to his chair, throwing his body onto it and opening his D.D.D. as if it were a reflex. With his other hand, he reached to his mouse and logged onto something on his computer, not even bothering to spare a look. His fingers tap away into his Chats, and into yours and his. A week you’ve been gone.

His other hand glided away from his mouse, and onto his pact mark, situated on the left side of his stomach. A small wave of magic flows, and reaching to said mark, trying to fish out a response. Nothing. Not a pulse, not a shock, not anything to tell him you were there.

He’d try, and try, and try. But no answer came.

A buzz from his D.D.D. prevents his thoughts from spiraling. The brothers’ groupchat had a notification. His eyes lingered momentarily to the clock at the corner of his device, half an hour has already passed. Was it really that long he spent. . .? But the question was disregarded as he checked who it was.

Lucifer: I’ve talked with Lord Diavolo.

His heart leaps, and so does his anxiety.

Lucifer: He’s been worried as well, and so, one of you is permitted to go.

And with that one message, everyone started typing up at once, like a fire. Levi didn’t falter behind.

Leviathan: I’ll go.

And after it was sent, his thoughts melted to a puddle. All the texts that came after, most likely all the others wanting to go, became muddled visions to him. He can’t feel his arms, his legs, and lastly, the way his heart churns and squeezes so tightly in him.

It hurts, but reality pulled him back.

Levi blinked once, twice, then refocused on the screen bellow him. The words in the white box said by Lucifer shocked him, but sent a slight wave of relief, and also a shaking anxiety.

Lucifer: You’ll be going then, Levi.

Hurriedly, his trembling fingers struggle to get a response. A whirlwind spawns inside his heart and mind.

Leviathan: Huh?!

Leviathan: Uhm, when?

He considered asking why, but he didn’t want the decision to be backtracked.

Lucifer: You may go to the castle now to be transported.

And with that, Leviathan hurries out.

   He doesn’t pay attention to what the Demon King in front of him say. Nor does he at the beatings of his own heart. Only a nod, and an occasional hum, and the portal flickers in front of him.

A portal to you.

He takes fast steps to the glimmering light, and his body warps to another world around him.

Despite wearing casual human clothes, his hand still wanders and threads over the pact mark hidden underneath the fabrics. Once again, magic flows from his fingertips, and his legs carry him where it leads to. You, hopefully.

He reaches a house. His magic says you’re here, but you yourself say you aren’t here. Instead of a solid presence around him, you were more of dust, sprinkling the air with a sense of. . .cold.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

His steps pick up as he walks to the door, and knocks. Silence, for a few, and then it opens, revealing someone—someone that isn’t you.

“Excuse me, sir, who are you?” It was a woman, mid-thirty’s he took a guess. Her tone was soft, ever so slightly broken, and her gaze was such as well.

“Uhm—“ A choked up feeling made itself home in Levi’s throat so suddenly. He wavered in every parts of his body, “I was. . .wondering if there’s someone named. . .”

He utters your name, gentle with such fragility. A looming hesitance and fear was evident as well, so none of his tone was positive by any means. The woman in front of him tensed, and gave a look of heart break.

No, it can’t be. It just can’t—

“. . .It’s. . .very unfortunate of me to say this, but. . .”

No, no no—

“. . .they’ve passed away.”

  His world broke.

Sentences came after that. Leviathan knew, he just wouldn’t acknowledge. A sharp, excruciating pain imbedded deep in his heart, his mind, his body—his pact mark shattered, and so did he.

Even so, he reached—reached deeply inside of the shards of the broken him to utter out a sentence, and stay stable, if for a moment.

“. . .How. . . d-did—“

He cut himself off. He can’t go any further, he just can’t. Fortunately, the lady picked up and answered.

“. . .It’s from a rare disease.” Her voice was wavering, hesitant, but it was an answer nonetheless, “Hanahaki. A person sprouts flowers from their lungs due to unrequited love and it slowly kills them.”

She didn’t want to say any further, and he didn’t want to hear any further.

His legs were numb, his body hurt to exist, his heart ached to keep beating. A thud sounded as his knees collided with the concrete—his feet didn’t work. None of his. . .anything, did. The screams of agony were a vocalization of his tears, his pain. A hand clutched the mark—your mark—and a cold darkness bit back.

His hand would bleed, but he wouldn’t care. You were dead. You were dead you were dead you were dead you were—

Could he have stopped this? Maybe, if he wasn’t so ignorant, and checked up on you like an actual friend would—could he have stopped this? Maybe, maybe, you’d be there by his side, smiling cheekily and exclaiming it was a joke—or a nightmare, just—anything but reality.

Were you hurting? No, of course you were. And not uttering a word, to anyone, to him?

And for a moment, he wonders if your tears and blood were the only thing you felt when you died.

[mytrashs-blog]

Drunk On You- T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Please do not read this if you’re under 18. The Smutty part is between this signs: [...] so if you want to skip over the smut, you can, but it won’t make much sense. Also... There’s A LOT of swearing.

Summary: You’re a virgin and you’re drunk so you send a risky DM on instagram.

Word Count: Almost 6k... she’s thicc

A/N: I cannot tell you just how much I enjoyed writing this! It started as a 2 am inspiration punch and then it took me three weeks to finish it. It’s my first time writing smut, so I don’t know if that part’s good, but I like it and I really hope you do too. (Please if you do like it, reblog it so it can be read by more and more people).

Masterlist

(Gif isn’t mine and I couldn’t track the author, so credits go to the owner)

Fuck this shit, you’re 22 years old, you’re in college and as much as you enjoy leaving fratboys with blue balls in the middle of a party, you need to get this over with. You’re tired of waiting for the “right guy”, if you keep on doing that you’ll end up virgin for your whole fucking life. But where the fuck can you find a guy that’s not gonna judge you for being a sad, drunk virgin in the middle of a tuesday night? Being drunk and alone at your dorm was pathetic enough…

So you scroll through instagram for a while only to find out there’s no right suitor for the job, but in the heat of the moment you notice that Tom Holland, yes the scrawny white boy that looks 12 and plays Spider-man has just posted a shirtless picture and boy, he does not look 12 anymore. So you slide into his DM’s just for the shit and giggles:

“Hey, Tommy boy!

You probably get millions of DMs like this every second of everyday, but fuck, I just wanted to say that you are extremely hot and I am extremely virgin and I’m also drunk, so I thought I’d write you to ask for a massive favor.

Would you have sex with me just to take my virginity away? Ok, thanks.

Bye!

P.S. I think you’re great in your new film.”

And yes, you did press send to that, but of course you don’t even remember writing it in the first place the next morning while getting ready for your 9am class, so your daily routine goes on as normal.

But then, while you’re making your best effort not to fall asleep while your professor talks about some depressed artist that beat his wife and was super sexist, but was somehow excused because he made some decent poem, you hear the unmistakeable ping of your phone, which can only mean that you got a text, so you go to see it, because that is far less rude than falling asleep during class, but you were surely not ready for what was showing on your phone screen.

All air, and life to be honest, left your body for a second, you double checked, and then triple checked and yes… Tom Holland had wrote you on instagram’s direct messages.

“Holy fuck” you only realize you said that out loud when the three people closest you turn to look at you and shush you, but you’re still in shock and still have not opened the message, but maybe it’s not a great idea to open it in front of everybody, specially your professor, so you figure the bathroom will be the best place to do it.

You lock yourself in a stall and sit down, get your phone out, take a deep breath and open the instagram message. My God, you were not expecting what your screen showed:

“Haha, this is too cool to ignore! I happen to be in your area right now… Give me a call and I’ll make it happen ;)”

And yes, his phone number was there too. The phone number of THE Tom Holland! like… WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! What are the odds of him actually reading your DM? And the odds of him replying? And the odds of TOM MOTHERFUCKING HOLLAND agreeing to be your first time?! Someone up there must be having a good laugh.

But it would be rude to chicken out now, right? One does not simply say no to fuck with a Marvel actor. You gotta do it. It's your holy duty. So you reply with a simple “Looking forward to it” and you get your shit together before returning to your class.

You think about texting him while you walk to grab some lunch, but what do you say to a celebrity that agreed to deflower you?… Wait. Holy shit! You’re actually gonna have sex with Tom Holland! He’s super ripped! And you’re gonna see and feel all his bits and pieces… honestly, your panties got a bit damp just thinking about that. This is gonna be fun.

You decide to shoot the text while waiting for your iced coffee. “Hey, it’s (Y/N) from instagram. Are you serious about the thing? If so, when are you available?”

And that’s when the game begins, cause he replied almost instantly and you decided he’s just another fratboy playing around, so you played along.

“I’m dead serious, babe. I can do it tonight.”

“Nice. That’s how I like it… what time are we talking about?”

“9 ish, maybe 10.”

“Gotta give me an hour… also, it would have to be at yours, cause I live in a dorm that I share with another girl.”

“You could ask her to join…”

“Haha. Nah, this is all for me to enjoy.”

“And you will. 9:30 sounds good for you, babe?

“Perfect.”

“I can pick you up. Send me your location and I’ll go there.”

“Nice. I’m liking it already.”

“You’ll like it even more.”

You go about your day with a stupid smile all day, nervous and excited for what’s gonna happen later. Paying attention to class? What is that? Concentrating on your due projects? You don’t know her. All you can do is think about the things that man might do to you later.

Wait… you gotta shave. Also, should you go buy some nice underwear? It overwhelms you how unprepared you are and you run, abandoning everything you had to do that day to go get ready to have sex with a super hot celebrity.

You shaved, exfoliated, bought nice underwear, picked out a sexy outfit, you even tried to work out a little to look a bit more toned for him. You allowed your most extra self to come and shine, and you definetely enjoyed the process.

“What are you getting ready for? It’s wednesday. I doubt there’s any interesting party. Oh God! Do you have a date?” your roomate asked as soon as she saw you posing a skirt for the mirror when she walked in.

“I think so… I don’t know. I’m gonna meet this guy I met on instagram.” She gave you a corncerned look, but you were definetely not gonna tell her the details, that’s extremely private, it’s rude to tell people about celebrities intimate life, even if it’s with you. He didn’t mention anything about keeping it secret, but it would do a lot of harm to freely go around saying that he likes having sex with fans. It would ruin his privacy completely. At least from your part, you can guarantee no one’s ever gonna find out.

True to your word, you sent him your location an hour before the time you arranged and he called you, yes. HE CALLED YOU at 9:30p.m. on the dot to tell you he was outside and it took you a second to process the call, so much that you couldn’t voice anything more than an “Okay”… that basically ruined your super confident text attitude, and this was over the phone, would you even be able to get inside his car? The nervousness really hit you like a truck the second you hung up the phone, and your roomate noticed, but she didn’t say anything.

After taking a few deep breaths and counting to ten trying to calm yourself down, you get your purse and walk down the hallway and the stairs of the dorms and by the time you get to the main door, your legs are shaking like crazy and your palms are a little sweaty, so you gotta calm down again and remind yourself that this man is just a regular human being and that nothing has to happen if you don’t want to. And just like with tequila shots, you stop thinking and just go for it.

As soon as you see the car, you walk confidently towards it, and as he rolls down the window you can see it really is him, but you don’t let his face tear your confidence down, so you slightly smile and get in the car, it’s an extremely fancy car and you’re sure you’ve never set foot in anything this luxurious, honestly there’s no doubt that the seat your ass is resting on right now could easily be worth your entire college tuition and student loans. Okay, maybe that is an exageration, but it sure looks expensive.

“Hey, nice to finally meet you in person… I’m Tom!” he smiles in a polite and friendly matter, and you can see there’s a hint of nervousness in his smile aswell and that eases you a little because it confirms that he’s just as normal as you are.

“I’m (Y/N), pleasure to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to do this. I know it’s super weird and all, and I was definetely not expecting this outcome when I sent that message last night, but I’m grateful regardless…” you’re rambling, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he looks amused even. When you finally stop talking he drives away and you fall into a slightly uncomfortable silence, until he turns the music on and you recognize the song so you start humming along, and he joins, but other than that, there’s not much talking on the way to the apartment he’s staying at temporarily right now.

The place looks expensive, but it’s also very simply decored, it does look a temporary thing, but it also looks like a place where a single chaotic youn man exploded, so there’s empty beer bottles here and there, clothes literally everywhere and dirty dishes in the sink… but it does smell like cologne, very manly aswell… being at his place sets a whole new level of anxiety, because this is just so intimate. You’re inside his little world, his safe space, and even if it’s just for a brief moment you’re just happy that he agreed to do this with you.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have wine, beer and a spare champagne bottle from the other night… or just water. Please make yourself comfortable, sorry about the mess, I really don’t like cleaning.”

“That’s alright… you should see my dorm during finals week, that’s a whole other level of messy, haha… and wine would be great, thanks.” You’re slowly calming down and trying no to overthink about what’s about to happen and forget about the reputation of the man you’re doing it with, because the fact that he’s famous doesn’t mean he’s less human and maybe glorifying him for his job is a little rude from you. So you sit down in the couch, right next to a thrown blue hoodie, hold on a second… this is the one from Spider-Man: Homecoming, the one with the emblem of the highschool, shit, this is a historical piece of clothing for the cinematic world and you’re sitting right next to it. Shit, there goes all the progress you had made in the last fifteen minutes.

When he comes back with two glasses of wine in one hand and the bottle in the other one, you help him put down the stuff safely because he looks so stressed carrying the things and it is a small funny moment, before he sits down right beside you and it becomes impossible to get your words to come out of your mouth. So he takes the lead.

“Listen, I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of predator, okay? I don’t know why I agreed to do this, but it was not to take advantage of you, so if at any point you feel uncomfortable and you don’t wanna do this anymore, you can just tell me and we’ll call this off, okay.” He puts his hand on you knee to reassure you and it does make you feel better, and you relax into your seat  and just nod a little before speaking.

“Thank you” And it comes out like you’re breathing out in relief, and that’s when he leans in to kiss you and you take a deep breath before corresponding and taking the last step to seal your lips together.

Your mind just goes blank and you forget what you were nervous about in the first place, kissing Tom is not that much different than kissing any other guy, except for the fact that his lips are softer than most guys’, but this one does have to take care of himself, it is literally part of his job and it should not be that surprising that a guy takes basic care for his appearance, but it is nice.

[…]

The kiss moves in a nice rythm and his hands start sliding from your knee to your waist and he pulls you closer to him and your hands find their courage and go to the back of his neck and so you’re also pulling him in, and all you want is to have him closer, as close as you can possibly have him, and when his hand moves down to your ass, you take that as the perfect moment to throw your leg over so you can straddle him and now both of Tom’s hands are on your ass and you grab onto his shoulders for leverage, and just because you need to breathe in properly, you let your lips disconnect and you see him beneath you.

His hand comes up to move your hair out of your face and you stare at each others eyes for a second and it doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore, so you smile at him for a brief moment, but being apart from his lips feels terrible right now so you lean back in and his hand is in your head and he’s pushing you closer to him, and your hands just slide down to his chest, you play with the chain he has on for a second and he smiles into the kiss, but then you move your attention to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them.

You take your lips to his neck and he becomes super responsive, you find his sensitive spot quite quickly and he moves you closer to him so you feel his lenght rubbing against your core and it makes you go undo the buttons faster, before you know it he’s taking the shirt off and throwing it to the floor, when his hands are free, he takes advantage and lifts your blouse and you put your arms up to give him easy access. You’re glad you rush bought that set of nice underwear, because Tom’s eyes visibly fill with lust at the sight of the barely there lacy piece covering your breasts.

He touches your chest ever so lightly it gives you goosebumps, he traces a path to your breasts but he stops right before getting to them “Can I?” he whispers, looking straight into your eyes, and there’s something so sexy about him seeking your explicit consent, it makes your panties a little wetter, you nod lightly and he goes ahead, tracing the shape of your breasts with his fingers, like he wants to get familiar with them, he takes one of your nipples between his fingers and applies a little preasure on it, and then on the other one, he’s taking his sweet time before cupping them and pressing his lips in the space between them, and your hands respond to that by taking his hair and pulling lightly and he moans into your skin and it makes you shiver.

He keeps leaving wet kisses on your nipples and sucking on sensitive spots and you can swear it will leave marks, but who cares, you’re just over the moon with everything that’s happening and you just want more and more. He takes one hand to your ass again and he holds it tightly, using the other hand he slides to the edge of the couch and just like it’s nothing heavier than an empty box, he stands up, and you gasp because frankly you were not expecting it, he laughs a little and gives you a reassuring smile.

“I just thought we’ll be more comfortable in my room.”

“Okay, then.” You find it so odd that he’s so unbothered while carrying your full weight, like you’re not exactly the lightest woman in the world, but you won’t deny that being so close and personal to his biceps like this, it’s something you could get used to.

He takes you up the stairs, and along the corridor, once you reach the door, he turns the knob but decides to kick the door rather than opening it like a normal person, but you can’t complain because every moves looks hotter than the previous, and when he lays you down on his bed and stays hovering above you, you just can’t handle it and you kiss him again, your legs hug around his bum to bring him closer where you need him and he takes the hint, he pushes your skirt to your stomach and before he does anything else, his seeks your consent “Is this okay?” he asks, “Yes.” you say loud and clear and he rubs his fingers on your core, and it feels good, but your panties feel like a concrete wall, you just need to feel his fingers, his everything all over your body, so you arch your back and unzip the skirt and he pulls it down and throws it to a corner of the room.

He takes a second to look at you in just your underwear and you feel exposed, but he’s looking at you like you’re some sort of Goddess, he kicks his shoes off and goes to undo the button of his jeans, and it looks so slow and you need him now but you watch him and when he slides down the jeans and you can make out the shape of his member. You feel a little overwhelmed with the view in front of you, and you take a moment to take it all in. His face is crowned by (now) very messy curls, his eyes that used to be brown are practically pitch black by both the dim lighting and lust, there’s freckles all over his nose and cheeks, but they’re barely noticeable, his jawline is the most defined you’ve ever been near to, but even though there are a lot of strong features in his face, he looks almost childish and innocent… until you drop your eyes to his chest, that is.

Every single muscle in his chest has some sort of definition, he’s not as ripped as in the movies, but then again, he’s not super dehydrated and over exercised right now, and he still looks more muscular than any guy you know, his abs are defined, there’s a visible V marking the path from his hips to his member and it is stupidly making your mouth water. He has black Calvin Kleins still on, but that’s the last piece of clothing he has on, and the anticipation is killing you.

He takes you by the ankles an pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and he spreads your legs open and gives you a devilish smile before leaning back in to give you a quick yet intense kiss on the lips and he slides down to your neck and chest again, but he keeps making his way down your body towards your bellybutton and it gives you goosebumps everytime he gives you even a peck or a light touch, you’re shivering with every touch.

“Relax, love… if you want me to stop you can just say it, okay?” He says looking up at you and you nod, you breathe in to calm your nerves down, he waits for you, when you’re finally ready you nod at him again, he gives your waist a light squeeze, smiles at you and places a kiss to your stomach and keeps kissing you lower, until one of his hands goes to your thigh while the other teases the waistband of your panties, hooking one finger on it, he starts pulling it down painfully slowly, you lift your bum to make it easier for your panties to leave your body, once Tom strecthes them to throw them to some part of the room, you sit up to take off your bra and he looks intently at you while you do it, so you smile and lock your eyes to his just to make it more interesting, and you also take your sweet time unclasping the clips, and Tom starts to get impatient, you can see it in his smile, but you enjoy playing with him so even when you do unclasp both clips, you keep the piece on and he puts his hands on his hair in exasperation and you just laugh, enjoying this small moment of being the one in charge, but you give in and take the lacy bra off and throw it to him, he catches it and throws it to the side.

You’re completely naked in his bed and he’s taking the view in. “You’re very beautiful, you know?” he says and you feel the blush creep up to your cheeks, but you smile and thank him regardless, he smiles back and leans back down, he kisses one of your thighs and then the other one, before he does anything else he looks up at you, once again looking for any signs of hesitation “Are you sure you want this?” he asks from his position and when you nod, he dives in.

He presses a light kiss into your folds and you immediately feel electricity emmiting from your core. Needless to say it’s your first time recieving an oral, every sensation is new, you can’t even tell if he’s good at this or not, but for you, it feels like the best sensation in the world, his tongue dances over your clit and you just grasp the sheets for dear life and when he sucks on it you swear you could come right there, but you manage to hold it for a little longer and he keeps going, it doesn’t take long for him to introduce one finger inside, the moan you let out is just obscene and he seems to love it, because he moans too but the vibrations that it sent to your clit make you lose it and you come yelling his name like your life depends on it and he guides you through your first orgasm of the night with his mouth and finger still pumping in and out.

“You’re dripping wet, you know that?” He tells you once you’ve calmed down and have regained your ability to function like a human being, you smile at him, trying to speak, but that function has not come back yet. He kisses you in the mouth and you can taste yourself in his mouth, you start relaxing into the kiss, and he starts tracing gentle circles on the skin of your stomach and you turn your body so can be face to face and your leg happens to feel his dick, and it feels impossibly hard, so you try to relieve the pressure by stroking it with your hand, but when you get your hand down his waistband, Tom stops you “If you touch me now, I’ll be the biggest dissapointment of your life.”

“You forget that I’m a virgin… I have nothing to compare you to.”

“Still… I’ve got my pride.” he finishes as he gets up and rumbles in a drawer of his nightstand, he finds the condom and shows it to you. “Do you want to do this?”

You take a deep breath, there’s nothing you want more than do it right now, but it sure makes you nervous, still you give him verbal consent “Yes, I do.”

That’s all he needs, he stands up completely and takes his underwear off, it happens quite fast, but you do get to apreciate his dick in full exposure, not that you’d know, but it sure looks like it’s gonna be hard to fit that inside of you, and you panic a little and Tom notices and chuckles while he slides the condom on, “It’s gonna be alright, I’ll make sure of it.”

He crawls back to the bed and hovers above you, his hand go to your core again and he slowly introduces one finger into you and starts pumping in and out slowly, he stays looking in your eyes, watching your every reaction, you’re moaning slightly, when he notices that you’ve gotten used to the sensation, he adds another digit and the pressure feels uncomfortable, but he notices so he waits for you to get used to the feeling before he starts pumping it, you bite your lip as you enjoy his movements, moans coming out of your mouth to the rythm of his fingers, when he starts stretching you by doing scissor motions with his fingers, the feeling increases and it is a lot more intense so you hold onto his arm, he’s still looking at you, wanting to be sure that you’re okay and staying alert to see any signs of discomfort in you, but you like it so much.

He takes his fingers out and the emptiness is just overwhelming, but when you see that he’s trying to align himself to your entry, you relax and stress at the same time. This is real. It’s gonna happen. Actually it’s happening at this moment. He looks at you again and lifts his eyebrows in question, you nod lightly and you hold on to his forearm and his neck in preparation. He pushes slowly in, it hurts a little but it’s not that bad, Tom sees you wincing and stops, waiting for you to get used to the new feeling, when you do, he keeps pushing a little. The rythm goes like that until he’s fully in.

You can see he’s having a hard time trying not to hurt you, it’s clear that he just wants to go for it, but you’re grateful he’s containing himself while you get used to the feeling of being so full right now, when you’re ready, you nod at him and he pulls slightly out, waits for you, and pushes back in. The rythm is slow at first for you to get used to it. At first it feels like too much, but the more he thrusts into you, it starts being not enough.

His grunts and moans sound heavinly to your ears, and whenever you are brave enough to just open your eyes and see him, his face is just so beautiful, he has a frown in his face out of concentration and self control, you’re admiring him when he opens his eyes and they meet yours, it’s such an intimate moment, it makes you blush a little bit, you caress his cheek and hair, interlocking your fingers in his curly locks, he lets out a soft moan in pleasure.

The pace gets faster and stronger and you’re getting closer to your high with every thrust, he’s hitting a point inside of you that you didn’t even know existed and it’s a whole new level of pleasure, it’s even making you feel like the world is spinning, you grab onto his back and scratch as you try to keep it together, he moans loudly and stops and pulls out suddenly.

“Get on all fours for me, love.” he tells you and you comply, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed so he can fuck you while standing up off the bed, you try to arch your back to give him better access, he slides in easier now, and the sensation changes completely, he’s hitting another point that feels even better in this angle, the pleasure doesn’t let you stay stable and your arms can’t keep you up, so you press your face to a pillow and you can’t stop moaning his name, your high creeping up from your stomach once again.

“T- Tom… I think I’m gonna…”

“Wait for me, darling, I’m right there with you.”

His thrusts become sloppy and arythmic, he goes faster, his grunts louder with each thrust, your names falls from his mouth a lot more now, and his is the only word you can say at this point. You come first with an incredibly loud moan of his name. The feeling of you reaching your orgasm around his dick is enough to send him over the edge too, your name being dropped with a loud grunt, he squeezes your breast and rests his head on your back when he comes down from his high, both of you panting. You stay like that for a moment, but then Tom pulls out and goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

[…]

You lay in the bed completely naked, but you do feel more exposed now that the moment’s over, so you cover up with a pillow and think about what just happened, relishing on how good it was, you figure this was the best idea you’ve had in a while, even if the most ridiculous but it worked out pretty well.

Tom comes back soon after and hands you a water bottle (because he apparently just keeps water bottles in his bathroom), you thank him and he lays in the bed with you. “How was that?” he asks you in some worried matter, like his whole career depended on your answer, you look at him and smile at him like he’s crazy, you had two orgasms, isn’t that enough proof that you liked it? when the anxiety becomes aparent in his face, you give him the verbal confirmation. “Of course I did, wasn’t it obvious?” you say while trying to hide your face, he takes your arms to stop you from doing so.

“Y/N! Don’t hide! It was actually really good for me too, and I’m happy you had a good first time, it’s cool.”

You smile at him bigger now, getting more comfortable now, and he leans to leave a kiss on your forehead, and you lay there just chilling for a while. Checking the clock in Tom’s bedside table you realize it’s almost 2 in the morning, you haven’t talked about this, but you think it’s not a good idea to stay the night, maybe he has things to do tomorrow, and you do have a class at 9, so you start to get up to recolect your clothes.

“Where are you going?” Tom asks in a whiny tone, he was right about to fall asleep before you got up.

“I think it’s time for me to leave, it’s quite late and I’ve got class tomorrow.” you reply with a slightly sad tone, just for the drama.

“You don’t have to go. There’s no way I’m letting you take an uber and I’m too lazy to get up and drive you… so stay, I promise I’ll take you to your front door tomorrow morning, alright?” also, he gives you mad puppy eyes to convince you, but you still move around the room trying to find your underwear, just to not be naked anymore.

“Okay, just let me put some clothes back on, cause this is weird.”

“Can you throw me my underwear, please?”

“Yeah, just let me try and find them.” You throw them at him once you find them among the mess and they land straight in his face, you just gotta laugh at it and he just rolls his eyes at you and puts the thing on jokingly bitching about you being rude to him and you just laugh at him while you walk back to the bed.

At some point, Tom goes to retrieve your clothes and the wine from the living room while you just scroll through your phone absent mindedly, you half read the tweets and just ignore the instagram posts you see until he gets back and gives you your barely touched glass of wine and lays back down next to you.

You stay there for a while just talking and drinking, actually getting to know each other, you tell him about your major in college, how hard it gets sometimes, and you even tell him about why you had never had sex before. He tells you about his work, his family, the things he wants to do next… he does tell you a little tiny spoiler of the future of Marvel, which you had to swear you wouldn’t reveal to anyone ever and it would be a secret you take to your graveyard. It’s a nice pillow talk, you’re laying in the bed, facing each other, his hand is lazily resting on your waist, yours playing with the chain on his neck. This is likely even more intimate than the sex itself, and it’s nice.

When you do finally fall asleep, is in that position. Wine bottle completely empty in the floor, clothes laying around, only sound in the room being the light snores of Tom and heavy sleep breathing. You’re extremely comfortable and relaxed, long forgotten how nervous you were before this happened. You could get used to this.

Your slumber is ruined when the alarm goes off at half 7 in the morning, you feel tired, but you get your clothes back on anyway, Tom takes a little longer to fully wake up, but he keeps his promise and throws a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, he also throws a hat on just to not deal with his morning/sex hair, for the same reason, you also just put your hair in a messy bun.

He actually parks the car and walks you back to your dorm, it’s quite early, but there is some people around the hallways anyways and it makes you a bit anxious thinking you might get him in trouble if he does get recognized, but he seems relaxed and unbothered about it anyway.

“I had a lot of fun. It was really nice to get to know you… call me up if you ever want to do this again, okay?” he tells you with his hands stuck in his pockets, it makes you smile how cute he looks.

“Thank you, Tom. I really enjoyed it… thanks for not being weird about this whole thing.”

“That’s alright. Okay, take care and don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Okay.” He gives you a last kiss on the cheek before you get inside your dorm to get ready for class, and he goes back home, and that is it.

Months go by without you ever talking to or about Tom, you just assumed that was the end of everything you lived with him and it is a lovely and super hot thing to remember, but there's nothing more to it.

Bing

Your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You were studying, so you weren't talking to anyone. As you check the notification, you freeze just like you did the first time you saw his name on your screen.

"Hey! I'm in your town! What are you up to?"

-

Tagging some people to avoid the flop:

@caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd

[particularemu]

I Missed You | A Bang Chan Scenario

Word Count: 3857

Type: Smut

Warnings: Light choking at the end

Author’s Note: For my bby @channiesmixtape​ 

I apologize, this is SO RUSHED, like yikes. 

Sorry it took so long fam! Thank you for supporting my writing 🥰

Chan was a cruel man. 

A very very cruel man. 

The past hour or so you’ve been at the gym with your boyfriend. You two originally planned to do some couple’s yoga class, but the stupid thing was cancelled last minute because the teacher was either sick with the flu, or didn’t feel like teaching odd 20-something-year-olds how to balance on their significant other’s limbs while in difficult yoga poses. 

Despite your silent internal protest, Chan decided to take the time and get some “much-needed” exercise. Honestly, you just wanted to go home and binge watch the latest K-Drama you and Chan started before he had to go on tour. The lazy bone was hitting you hard today. 

Instead of sitting on your phone for the next hour, you decided it might not be a bad idea to get some exercise yourself. After all, you did eat a whole tub of ice cream last night for unknown reasons. Might as well hop on a machine to work off the extra calories you consumed while watching the latest Weekly Idol episode. 

After walking around the gym staring at the intimidating machines for 10 minutes, you decided the exercise bike looked the least intimidating. You just get on and pedal right? 

Unfortunately, about 20 minutes into your Stray Kids Spotify playlist, your knee decided it was time to burn like hell. Well you tried.  A+ for effort. 

Without anything better to do, you figured watching your attractive boyfriend work out was a good idea. Boy were you wrong. 

Watching your muscular boyfriend work out was filling your head with some dirty thoughts. 

With Chan’s busy schedule, you haven’t exactly had a ton of time to hump like bunnies, so you’ve been super horny for the past couple of weeks, for no apparent reason. 

Chan had to travel for about a month. About 2 days into his absence you started to realize — wow, you guys had sex wayyyyy too much. You couldn’t even last 2 days without sex before you began to masturbate to the memories of his hands on your body. Of course the toys you had stashed under the bed in a lockbox helped dramatically, but none of them filled you up like Chan did. 

“Back so soon?” Chan teased, flexing his arm as he lifted the dumbbell.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together, praying to the sex gods that you weren’t turned on enough to seep through your leggings. The last thing you wanted was the whole gym to see a wet patch through your skin-tight pants. 

“My knee decided that exercise wasn’t in the cards today.” You shivered at a sudden breeze that slipped through the crack of the open door — mentally cursing those who opened it. You grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over your head and slipping your arms through the sleeves as Chan put the dumbbells away. 

Chan stretched his hand out to you, inviting you to lace your fingers between his perfect ones. “Come on, let’s go.” 

“I can wait if you have more to do.” You intertwined your fingers with his, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lead you to the door. 

“Nah. I don’t want to stick around here if you’re in pain. You need to rest.” 

“Alright you’ve convinced me. Let’s go home.” You giggled as Chan swung your hands obnoxiously while the two of you walked out the door. 

---------

“Gosh, what’s the hurry?” Chan giggled as he stumbled into your small living room, practically knocking into the small table you had placed against the wall near the door. To be fair, you did kind of shove him into the room. 

“Chan. It’s been a month since we’ve watched our drama. I’m going crazy here. I want to see if she’s finally going to get together with him.” You threw your bag onto the coat rack, flinching when the unstable piece of furniture rocked under the weight of your unreasonably large bag, making Chan giggle as he watched you steady the hunk of wood. 

“Fine, fine. You could watch it without me you know.” Chan stepped on the heel of his shoe, slipping out of them with ease before sprawling on your dingy blue couch. He flinched a bit as the springs poked him in the side. 

“Yeah, everything I own is falling apart. I did buy a new mattress though. Wanna binge watch it on my bed?” You threw your keys into a small bowl resting on top of the table next to the front door. Chan gave you that bowl when you first bought that apartment because you kept losing your keys and other important stuff like chapstick, pain killers, and your extra phone charger. 

Chan sat up from the broken-down couch, laughing as the piece of shit groaned under his weight. “What did you do to this thing?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s like 87 years old. My grandmother gave it to me a long time ago, and from what my mom has told me, they did it everywhere.” You cringed at your own words. Probably wasn’t the best story to tell your boyfriend when you were hoping to get dicked down later. 

Oh well. 

Chan visibly cringed before hopping off the ragged couch. “Yep. Your room sounds lovely.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's neck. “You know… we could always do more than watching shows in there.” 

“Oh really.” Chan’s eyebrow shot up in the air, a dorky grin tugging at his lips as you finished your proposal. 

“We can cuddle.” You kissed his lips. “And kiss.” You pressed another soft kiss to his lips. 

“I like the sound of that.” Chan smiled, hands sliding down your shoulders before linking under your butt and lifting you up. 

You couldn’t help but squeal a bit as Chan lifted you off the ground, arms and legs wrapping around him as if you were a koala bear hanging onto a tree during a severe windstorm. 

“I’ve got you.” Chan chuckled as he walked the two of you to your less than extravagant bedroom. 

Truth be told, being in his arms like that made you feel safe. It’s been far too long. The entire month he was gone, you craved moments like these. You missed having his arms around you as you giggled over senseless things, watching your K-drama together, sitting in the recording studio listening to his new music. All those moments were replaced with 3 AM text messages and 5 minute calls before bed.  

“I missed you.” You nuzzled your head into his neck. 

“I missed you too baby girl.” Chan pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, chuckling when he saw your sheets. “I hate to ruin this moment, but I have to ask. Are those taco sheets?”

“I happen to like tacos a lot.” You giggled. “And they were on sale.” You added, making Chan laugh. 

“I love them.” Chan nuzzled his nose against yours — the corny action making you fake-gag. 

“Be nice to your boyfriend.” Chan laughed. 

“No.” You retorted. 

“Fine.” An evil grin made its way on Chan’s face before he tossed you onto your mattress, laughing with you as you bounced a couple times. His laughter died down a bit as he crawled onto the mattress, snuggling next to your body.

You smacked his arm, “Hey! That’s one way to ruin the mood.” 

“Oh? What mood did we have?” Chan couldn’t stop his laughter. “Last I remember we were talking about your grandparents going at it on your couch.” 

You mentally smacked yourself. Why on earth did you think it was a good idea to bring that up when you were hoping to have his fingers shoved into your vag. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“What if I strip for you?” Your eyes met his, noticing the slight blush tinting his pale skin. 

“Are you seriously trying to convince me to have sex with you?” Chan’s hands ran along your side, making your body shiver at his touch. 

You wanted more — so much more, and he knew it. His large hand lingered on hip, squeezing the soft flesh softly as he waited for you to say something — anything that would give him permission to devour you bit by bit. Despite his teasing, he wanted this just as much as you did. 

“I was really hoping to get laid tonight.” Your voice shook slightly, confidence wavering as you tried your hardest to keep your composure. Frankly, you were ready to get on your knees and beg, but you were hoping it wouldn’t come to that. 

Chan chuckled a bit before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. It was as if time stopped, all that mattered in the world was his lips against yours. “That’s funny. I was hoping for the same thing.” 

You moaned softly as Chan’s lips met yours once more, hands traveling up your torso to guide your shirt and sports bra up your body. Your lips separated to remove the unnecessary garments, only to connect once more when he tossed them across the room. Chan swiped his tongue against your lower lip, slipping into your mouth when you obediently parted your lips for him. 

This kiss made up for all the kisses you two missed out on while he was gone. It was the perfect mixture of clashing teeth and tongue as you two felt each other’s warmth in a tight embrace. His breath ghosted across your skin as he pulled away from you, hands darting to the back of his head to yank his shirt off. 

“Ugh, you’re perfect.” Your hands darted to his chest, fingertips feeling the taut muscles.

Chan just chuckled, eyes drinking every inch of your exposed skin. “So are you.” 

Your heart nearly stopped when Chan swung his leg over your hips, piercing gaze watching your cheeks tint a rose color as he straddled you. His fingers fiddled with his belt buckle, unbuckling the damn thing at a painfully slow pace. 

If you weren’t so entranced by his hands, you probably would have said something along the lines of ‘My grandfather moves faster than you,’ and thrusted your hips into his for effect. However, the way his hands looked as he threw the offending piece of leather across the room sent a wave of electricity up your spine.

Your heart panged against your ribcage as if it were playing an obnoxiously loud drum solo at a Metallica concert as your mind flashed with various images of Chan’s hands doing dirty things to your body. A moan escaped your lips as you imagined him sticking his fingers in your mouth before driving them into your pussy, fucking you mercilessly with his fingers as his tongue lapped at your slit. 

A scene straight from a porn movie was playing in your head as you watched your boyfriend slip off his pants in front of you. Was that weird?

That doesn’t matter. 

With each passing second, your underwear grew damper and you found yourself wanting him — and his hands — immediately. 

Speaking of hands…

Chan’s hands were glorious. Your eyes followed their every movement, eyeing up the veins that scattered across his forearms. His knuckles were scraped slightly — most likely from today’s session with the punching bag at the gym. His fingers were the perfect length, and you knew what they were capable of. The thought if his fingers ramming into your g-spot sent a wave of excitement through you. 

You were far too busy gawking at his hands to notice that he caught you staring. 

“I knew it!” Chan’s excited voice startled you a bit, effectively turning off the dirty thoughts you were having and replacing them with pure panic. 

“Knew what?” You looked away, cheeks tinted scarlet as you fiddled with your thumbs. 

Maybe he didn’t actually catch you eye-fucking his hands?

“I knew you had a thing for my hands.” 

“Shit.” The four-letter word slipped from your lips before you could stop it. 

Chan laughed at your reaction, arms wrapping around his midsection as he fell to his side. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Hey! You laughing at me isn’t helping.” You swatted his shoulder. 

Sure it was kind of embarrassing to admit that simply looking at his god-like hands would turn you on faster than the speed of light, but it was kind of nice to know you didn’t have to hide it anymore — not that you were doing a good job. 

Chan’s laughter died down. “Sorry. I’m not making fun of you. I just don’t see it. What makes my hands so sexy baby girl?” 

“Chris.” You rolled him over and straddled his hips, grinding your core into his growing cock. “I find everything about you sexy — including your hands.” 

Your fingertips grazed along his chest, fingers dipping into each curve of his abs as you ground your hips into his again, hoping he would get the hint to quit teasing and fuck you already. “I want you Chris.” You slid off his lap, fingertips tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 

Chan’s eyes darkened with lust — or was that your imagination? Nevermind, that doesn’t matter. 

You were more focused on his hand palming his length through the navy blue boxers you were trying to remove from his body. The erotic sight making you more and more excited for what was to come. 

It had been so long. You were dying to unwrap him. 

“What exactly do you want baby girl?” Chan purred. “I bet you’ve had some amazing dreams about my hands.” He smirked when your face flushed red. Bingo! “Tell me, what exactly do you want me to do.”  

His words sent shivers up your spine. Well, the boy already knew you had a hand fetish. Might as well have some fun and get him to do what you’ve been dreaming of. After all, you have been having the same exact wet dream for over a month. Having Chan there to fuck you senseless would be so much better than riding a dildo on the bathroom floor. 

“Please finger me.” Your voice shook ever-so-slightly, all sense of pride leaving your body as you practically begged for his touch. Even though it was embarrassing to beg for his fingers up your coochie, you knew it would all be worth it in the end. Chan would do anything to please you. “I want your tongue.” Your hands rested on his hips, thumbs dipping into the evident dips near his hip bones. 

A sinister smirk took over Chan’s features as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re such a good girl.” 

His praise turned you on more than you’d care to admit — especially when it reminded you of how he praises your golden retriever. Despite that awkward comparison, you still love to hear his words of approval when you two are intimate. 

You moaned as Chan traveled down your clothed body, quickly ridding you of your leggings. 

“No panties?” Chan teased, shooting an award-winning smirk at you as he chucked your leggings across the room. 

“It’s easier to not wear any with leggings. Then I don’t have to worry about panty lines.” You glared at him. “Just, get to work!” 

Boys wouldn’t understand. 

Chan couldn’t help but laugh at your passionate outburst as his hands ran across the smooth skin of your thighs. Your frustration was quickly replaced with pleasure when he opened your thighs, his warm breath ghosting across your core as his hands left you bare and spread before him. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Chan’s lips pressed against your thigh quickly before he hovered over your center, tongue darting across his lower lip as his eyes drank in every dip and curve you had to offer. 

Even though the words were nice to hear, you didn’t need him to utter those 3 little words. The expressions on his face as he took off your clothing, piece by piece, made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. His eyes always watched you with such wonder, hands always feeling the need to grab the parts of you that you once thought were horrible, a blush always evident on his cheeks when you were the most vulnerable to him, those were the unspoken words that didn’t need to be said. 

You mean the world to me.

Without warning, Chan dove into your folds, tongue flattening against you as his fingertips pressed into your thighs. The overwhelming pleasure took you by surprise, making your back arch as a loud moan echoed through the room. Your head pressed into the pillows, hands tangling in Chan’s curly locks as his middle and index fingers entered your core. 

The sinful sounds echoing in the room only heightened your pleasure — the sounds of moaning, sucking, licking, and slurping making your thighs shake around Chan’s head. 

This was exactly why you guys couldn’t fuck in the dorms. It wouldn’t take long for one of the boys to hear the two of you and either A) ask you two to stfu and stop, or B) wonder if someone was dying. You two tried to fuck in the dorms once, but your voice (and Chan) betrayed you.

A harsh suck brought your attention back to the brunette between your legs. Chan backed away from your core, “Eyes on me princess.” 

His big brown eyes watched every one of your reactions as his lips enclosed around your clit, sucking harshly, sending intense waves of pleasure through your body. Chan’s fingers curled inside you, hitting your g-spot with each harsh thrust. 

The amount of pleasure you were feeling was indescribable. No vibrator could compare to the feeling of his fingers ramming inside you while his tongue flicked your clit. You couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t be gone this long again — even though you knew that wasn’t going to happen. Chan was an idol. Going on a world tour could take him away for nearly a year. 

“Oh my God Chan.” Your whole body tensed as your orgasm approached, toes curling as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through you. It was as if a coil was tightening more and more with each pass of his tongue until it snapped. 

A mixture of curse words and Chan’s name slipped from your lips as you reached your high, toes curling as your fingers let go of his hair to fist the sheets. Your thighs shook around his head as Chan’s tongue lapped up your juices, riding you through your orgasm. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that.” You panted, body shivering at the intense orgasm that was still making its way through your body. 

Chan chuckled a bit, pulling his boxers off his body before hovering over you. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose, making you giggle a bit, before asking, “Can you keep going?” 

His eyes held concern, which warmed your heart, but there was no way in hell you’d pass up having his cock inside you. 

“Please keep going.” Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “I need more of you.” 

Chan pressed kisses all over your face before lining himself up with your core. “I’m happy to oblige.” 

Your fingernails dug into Chan’s shoulder blades as he pressed into you — feeling every inch of his cock rub against your walls as his hips rocked into yours. Chan’s hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight so he wouldn’t crush you. You pressed your face in the crook of his neck, aiming to suck on his skin as he set a quick pace, thrusting into your heated core. 

“No marks.” Chan commanded, the authority in his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Yes sir.” You could swear you felt him twitch inside you at the title. Darn. You were really hoping to litter his pale skin with some dark purple marks. Then the whole world would know that he was yours. Then again… Perhaps he had a point. That could make for some bad publicity for Stray Kids. 

Chan’s lips pressed against yours, giving you something to do with your tongue as he deepened the kiss. His hips slammed into you faster, gaining power with each thrust. You could feel his breath ghost across your lips as you parted for air. The new control you had over your mouth gave you the energy to focus on wrapping your legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him tightly as his hips ground into yours. 

“I’m close baby.” Chan’s husky voice sounded strained as his thrusts became erratic. 

“Choke me.” If you weren’t having the time of your life, you’d be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded begging for his hand around your throat. 

Chan groaned, hand immediately finding its way to your throat, pressing down firm. It was glorious, but you still wanted more. 

“Harder.” 

Chan quickly obliged, cutting off most of your air supply with his hand.  The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin brought you to your second orgasm within seconds, a choked cry escaping your lips as you clenched around Chan’s cock, milking him into his own orgasm. 

Chan released your throat, a deep moan echoing in the room as you tightened your thighs around his hips, forcing him to stay inside you as he hit his release. You could feel his cum coat your walls as he slowly rocked his hips against yours, helping the two of you ride out your orgasms. You repeated his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew, arms holding him closer as you basked in the afterglow. 

“I came inside.” Chan pulled out, running his hands through his hair, stress taking over any previous emotions he had felt. 

You sat up and rushed to him, rubbing his shoulders to bring him down from his freakout. “Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.” 

Chan sighed, relief flooding throughout his body as he sunk back into your embrace. 

“Besides, even if I wasn’t, I kind of put you in a chokehold with my legs, so you would have had a right to freak out at me.” You giggled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“You know, having children with you wouldn’t be so bad.” He mumbled.

You weren’t a fan of having kids in your early twenties, but hearing him admit that he wants kids someday warmed your heart. At least you knew if something were to happen and you got pregnant, you’d have Chan by your side. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great mom.” Chan murmured, sleep slowly taking over the poor boy. 

“I think you’re too tired to think straight.” You couldn’t help but tease him. He looked so tired. 

Chan merely chuckled, pulling you under the covers to press your bodies together. “I am tired, but it’s true.” 

You leaned your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep was Chan’s whispers, “I missed you.”

[mmilkbreadd]

Chapter nineteen: “The Long-Awaited Date”

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Thirty minutes later Bokuto sent you a message saying that he had already arrived at the hotel to pick you up. Emiko jumped off her bed with a big smile on her lips. When you told her about your date, she was too happy for you. Her plan had finally come to an end. 

“Have a lot of fun, y/n!” she said as she walked you to the exit. “Don't worry, I'll keep Tendou busy while you're on your date. Do not be late!”

Emiko hugged you and you walked out the door to meet a nervous Bokuto, who had a bunch of broken flowers in his hand. Seeing you, his face flushed, and looking down he handed you the flowers. 

“Thank you... They are beautiful, but what happened to them?” you said with a small smile, taking his gift with both hands. 

Bokuto laughed as he remembered what had happened. Then he began to explain the situation to you while walking towards a destination unknown to you. 

“It's really a funny story,” he laughed. “There is a flower shop on the corner of my house, I bought some that seemed very nice, as you can see. But when I was walking towards your hotel, I noticed that there was a bee inside them! I got so scared that the flowers fell to the ground, and someone accidentally stepped on them.”

Koutarou let a laugh out of his mouth. Hearing him laugh, you did too. By laughing, the uncomfortable atmosphere had already vanished, the conversation was much more fluid, and there were no more silences that could cause more discomfort. 

After fifteen minutes of walking, Bokuto stopped and pointed to your left, indicating that you had already reached your destination. Looking where he had pointed, you found a large building. A sign at the entrance indicated that you arrived at ‘Fukurodani Academy'. It was the school where Koutarou went.

“Don't tell me we're going to play volleyball. I didn't bring suitable clothes to do it!”

Bokuto laughed once more, shaking his head; and with great courage, he took your hand to start leading you into the school. 

It was not yet night, it was almost six in the afternoon so the sun was still in the sky. The school was quite bright, but there was no one on the grounds. Which scared you a bit, maybe you were trespassing. Like, you were doing illegal things. Forbidden things! 

'I don't want to go to jail! I am very young!' you thought looking back and forth looking for the blue and red lights, which would indicate that the police were nearby. But despite frantically searching, no one was there besides you and Bokuto. 

Koutarou was ahead of you, guiding you through the entire school until you reached the gym. He turned to see you and noticed your scared face. 

“Are we trespassing?” you asked. “Look Bokuto, I like you, but I don't want to go to jail. I'm barely seventeen years old!”

“Oh y/n, sorry. I should have told you before” he said releasing your hand and opening the gym door. “They let us come to train whenever we want, that's why we were able to enter. The police won't come to take us, I promise.”

Once inside the gym, a bit calmer, you saw a table in the middle of it, with two chairs next to it. On the table were two plates of food, and also a large pink cake. 

The two of you walked to the middle of the court and sat on the chairs. 

“I didn't know you were so romantic, Koutarou.” Just like the other time, Bokuto blushed when he heard his name come out of your mouth. Then you looked at what was on the plates: a large portion of your favorite food. “How did you know that this is what I like the most?”

“Emiko told me... Well I asked her actually” he said pouring water into a glass, and then he served you too. “And with the romantic thing, I don't think so. Akaashi, and the whole team as well, helped me do this. I also made this strawberry cake! It's not going to be as delicious as the one you made the other day, but give it a try!”

You blushed. You were flattered that not only had he done all this for you, but that he had also filled out your recipe, and tried to recreate it to surprise you. 

Dinner flowed smoothly, the two of you laughing the entire time, talking about everything but volleyball. Just as you promised. 

After finishing the meal, Bokuto cut the strawberry cake that he had made. To tell the truth, it was horrible. Raw on the inside and burned on the outside, your stomach wanted to vomit. But instead of spitting it out and expressing how disgusting it was, you decided it was better to try really hard to swallow the piece of cake and encourage him to keep practicing so that you could improve; even if you could tell that the kitchen wasn't Bokuto's strongest field.

It was getting late now, and the moon was already looming in the sky. It was time to go back to the hotel.

Of course, Bokuto accompanied you to where you were staying. Upon reaching the entrance, Koutarou took your hand and turned you around so you could see him. 

“So, I guess this is the goodbye…” he said with a little blush, but with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Yep” you didn't know what to say to him. You didn't want to leave yet, these days hadn't been enough to really get to know him. 

“I…” “I think…”

You both said at the same time.

“You first,” you said quickly. You needed a little more time before you could say something that comes from your heart. 

“Okay… I know we don't know each other very well, but I do know that I want to. I want to know you even more, ” Bokuto began, looking down more and more. All the courage he had inside him had been exhausted by taking you by the hand twice already. “Maybe I could come to visit Miyagi in a few weeks, or you can come here again, you can stay at my place! Only if you want, of course.”

Now you were the one blushing. Energy went through your body. You have never felt something like this before.

“Seems right to me. You can also stay at my house if you come during the weekend. You might not know this, but I live inside the school from Monday to Friday” you said and Bokuto raised his head. “I think I should go now. Thanks for everything, Bokuto, I've had a great time.”

Bokuto said goodbye to you and finally released your hand. Which caused a weird reaction in your body, you didn't know what it was, but you wanted his hand to be close to yours again. 

“Koutarou, wait!”  you yelled at him before entering the hotel, and when you came running to where he was, your arms wrapped around his neck. “Maybe we are both the losers of the Nationals, but we won something much more important than a stupid trophy.”

And when the two of you broke the hug, you planted a big kiss on his cheek; then quickly returned to the lobby. 

'I shouldn't have done that' you thought as you passed the doorway.

“That was the cheesiest thing I've ever seen in my life,” said a voice that came from next to you.

Turning your head you found Tendou, watching you with crossed arms.

Now your worst nightmare had come true: Satori found out that you went on a date with Bokuto.

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[out-of-jams]

Rules of the Game || jhs

↠ Rules of the Game ↞ “You didn’t even need to see the tag sewed into the jacket of his suit to know that it cost more than you made in a single weekend. Didn’t need to sit next to him on that leather couch to know that he probably smelled exactly how he looked: dark, rich, dangerous.”

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Warnings/Genre/Rating: Set in the Roaring 20s! Mobster!Hoseok. Singer!Reader. Flapper!Reader. Fluff. Strangers to lovers. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Oneshot. PG-13.

Word Count: 2.7k

Fic Theme Song: My Heart Belongs To Daddy -- Marilyn Monroe

A/n: I recommend listening to the song above to set the mood!~

                               | | Masterlist | |

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me.©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

The air was hot.

Humid.

Stifling.

A bead of sweat drifted down the back of your neck and goosebumps broke out on your flesh as it traveled below the top of your dress. It was one of your favorites: black and short with silver embedded jewels that glittered beneath the low ceiling lights. A tight fitting pearl necklace decorating the bare skin of your neck matched the earrings pierced through your lobes. And the heels on your feet made you taller, though not by as much as you’d like.

“You ready to go again?”

You glanced up from the glass of water clutched in your hands to meet the questioning stare of one of your dearest friends. Kim Taehyung nodded his head towards the stage that took up the whole back wall of the joint. Two women in similar styles of dresses to yours and short cut hair side-eyed him as they walked past. Giggled into their illegal cocktails and whispered behind their hands.

Perhaps if you hadn't known the man at your side before he was old enough to be weaned from his mother’s breast, then you would have sighed with them. Would have fluttered your lashes at the unnecessarily handsome man gifted with a sweet face and even sweeter disposition. You couldn’t fault them for double-taking at his warm chocolate eyes and hair long enough to cover his lightly tanned forehead.

Taehyung’s coral colored, cupid-bow lips tilted up as he tried and failed to hide how he preened beneath their longing stares. Rolling your eyes, you slid your glass of water back onto the high topped table and patted his suit clad arm. “Let’s go before you get snatched up again and I lose my saxophone player for the night.”

“That was only one time!” Taehyung’s amused voice followed you back to the stage and up the three short steps. Chatter from the packed speakeasy hidden beneath the restaurant upstairs filled your ears with familiarity.

The space wasn’t very big. Then again, it didn’t need to be. Not when it sold illegal drinks like newsboys sold papers. Molls and Dolls was one of the most popular joints in town and everyone who was anyone tried to get their names put down on the incredibly long list. The interior was ritzy, filled with expensive leather chairs, polished wooden tables, and imported Persian rugs.

At the side of the place, to the left of the stage, was the bar. Already packed with broads and fellas dressed in clothes so expensive that those who looked wouldn’t doubt that they came with enough dough to buy whatever they wanted. They belonged to the type of crowd that you didn’t. 

You didn’t grow up rich, didn’t have all the possessions you owned bought with daddy’s money. Maybe that was why it was so easy to see past the fronts they wore like cheap, plastic masquerade masks. They wanted people to think that they held all the power, when in reality, they did not. Were just like everybody else when you took away their money and it came down to it.

Nodding at your piano player in a silent motion to urge him to put down the whiskey and pick up the tunes, you approached the microphone center stage. It was cool to the touch as you lightly wrapped your fingers around the stand. The ten minute break you’d taken was exactly what you’d needed to moisten your throat and prepare yourself to sing for the rest of the night.

When a familiar melody started up as your pianist danced his fingers across the keys, you felt your eyes slip closed in bliss. While the rest of the patrons were home to mansions and pricey cars, the stage was where you belonged. The eyes of those who came to watch you sing, to hypnotize them with the words that itched to spring free from your tongue, breathed life into you. And the rhythm of the instruments at your back guided the beating of your heart.

You hadn’t been singing at Molls and Dolls for very long. A year ago was when you’d been approached by the mac who owned the place. He’d caught you the moment you slid from the stage at one of the less infamous underground clubs in the city. Had praised your voice and offered you a slot to sing at his joint every Friday and Saturday night. The only catch was that you could work for him and him only.

The one thing that stopped you from turning him down (how could you live off of working two days a week?) was the hefty wad of cold, hard cash he’d slipped into your palm. A downpayment, he’d said, loose change compared to what you could make with him. Something to give you the incentive to accept.

How R.M.--he never gave out his actual name--really earned the money he got stayed a mystery to you. You knew that the safe in his office was filled to the brim with more bills than you could count; more dough than he could possibly make in an evening. But you never asked. Didn’t need to when he paid you enough to keep the questions from your mouth.

You came to sing, to sip at the drinks you were given and bask in the attention from those who envied you. Who wished they could hypnotize a room with only their voice.

Like now.

You could feel their gazes upon you while you sang and you soaked it up. Tried not to let a smirk capture your red tinted lips when you felt heat boring a hole into the side of your face. Instead, you slid your kohl lined eyes open as the band playing behind you transitioned to fast paced, sexier song.

“If I invite a boy some night To dine on my fine food and haddie.”

Across the room, a pair of dark eyes watched you. They were familiar, and yet not. Belonged to an absolute billboard of a man who looked like he fit more on the cover of magazines sold on street corners, than in the basement of a speakeasy. Hair the color of the scotch he sipped on and skin the same hue as molten honey, he met your gaze beneath heavy brows. His high cheekbones, a strong nose, and jawline sharp enough to cut diamonds were enough to catch many a lingering look.

“I just adore, his asking for more But my heart belongs to Daddy.”

You didn’t even need to see the tag sewed into the jacket of his suit to know that it cost more than you made in a single weekend. Didn’t need to sit next to him on that leather couch to know that he probably smelled exactly how he looked: dark, rich, dangerous. Every single weekend, he claimed the same spot across the room with a handful of other, equally handsome men.

You weren’t sure what they did or why they were there. Why everyone skirted around them like particularly frightened railway mice. R.M. would join them occasionally with friendly handshakes and pats on the back. So it wasn’t very difficult to put the pieces together that wherever he got all of his money from had something to do with those fellas.

Words had never been exchanged between you and the man who watched you perform like you were the only two people in the room. Neither of you had crossed that invisible line that drew itself down the middle of space that divided you. It was an unspoken rule in the game the two of you played. You’d sing as if just for him, and he’d gift you with his attention.

“Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy So I simply couldn't be bad Yes, my heart belongs to Daddy.”

Already hooded eyes seemed to darken even further at the suggestive words that spilled from your tongue. And if you looked close enough--which you always seemed to do when it came to him--the slight quirk of his heart-shaped mouth was a sign of his approval.

“So I want to warn you laddie Though I know that you're perfectly swell That my heart belongs to Daddy Cause my Daddy, he treats it so well.”

Not even the crowd gathered around the front of your stage like meerkats, with their eyes trained on you with rapt observation could pull your own from him. One of the men sitting next to him, a petite looking blond with a soft, pretty face, leaned over to say something into his ear. Not even then did he turn away from you. Just answered his companion without breaking the rules of the game.

“If I invite a boy some night To cook up some hot enchilada Though Spanish rice is all very nice My heart belongs to Daddy.”

The hair at the back of your neck stuck to your skin from the heat that perforated the room due to too many bodies and too little air circulation. But you didn’t pay it any mind, too busy trying to stave off the feeling of disappointment when a man you didn’t recognize approached the men. Cut off your line of sight to the man sitting on the couch. Whatever was said was enough to cause him to rise, press his almost finished drink into the hand of one of his companions and follow the stranger out of the room.

Though the look he sent you before disappearing was a message in and of itself. A silent apology for ending the game before time was up.

The rest of your set up on stage didn’t affect you like it usual did. Failed to provide you with the normal high that accompanied a performance. You tried not to let displeasure show on your face when you departed the stage. The night hadn’t ended, nor would it until the first signs of light began to show as the sun rose over the city skyscrapers. But you were exhausted.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave even if you’d wanted to because R.M. had yet to pay you for the weekend. If it were Friday, then you would have just shrugged it off and let it go until the next day. But it was Saturday and you didn’t want to have to come back during one of your off days. Molls and Dolls was too far away from your apartment to hike across the city when you didn’t need to.

R.M. was nowhere to be seen, had disappeared a little while ago according to the bartender who poured you a glass of gin. So sadly, you were left waiting for the man when you weren’t even sure if he would return for the night. Sometimes he would vanish and reappear the next day like nothing had happened. Though you supposed that since he owned the place and all, it was more than acceptable for him to do so.

You just wished that he didn’t do it when you needed to get paid.

Sighing, you pressed the martini glass to your lips and took a hefty sip. The alcohol burned your throat as it slid down, but you didn’t mind it. Not when it lit fire to the blaze itching beneath your skin. Taehyung had disappeared somewhere into the flock of tittering women the moment he’d packed up his saxophone and stepped off the stage.

Left to your own devices, you rested your cheek in the palm of your free hand and surveyed the room. It was still packed wall-to-wall, filled with the sound of chatter and the jazz band who took your place performing. They were talented, good even, but you didn’t expect anything less from someone hired to work for R.M.

“Could I get you another drink, miss?”

Blinking at the sudden intrusion of a voice invading your personal space, you turned to meet the shameless stare of a stranger. He had a face that was all angles and sharp lines with eyes the color of the sky at midday. By the way he carried himself, leaned against the bar like he owned it, you could already tell what kind of man he was. One who thought he could have anything he wanted with the snap of fingers because of the weight of his wallet. Who thought he was the absolute bees-knees.

Raising an eyebrow at the way his gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs exposed by your dress, you took another sip out of your glass. “I’m still drinking this one.”

“After, then,” he winked. “What d’ya say?”

You hummed before looking pointedly away from him in hopes that he’d get the message without you needing to spell it out. “No.”

“No?” Apparently not. The only thing he got was closer to you as he slid across the bar until his arm brushed your side. “Come on, doll. Don’t be a prude.”

Turning back to shoot him a heated glare, you leaned away from his touch. “Are you deaf?”

He didn’t seem at all affronted by your scoff when he reached up to brush your cheek with his pointer finger. “Can’t say that I am. Now accept my offer before I take it back.”

“Take it back, then.” You jerked your head back until he had no choice but to drop his hand.

“You--”

“I believe that the lady said no.” A voice, deep and raspy and accented with a vocal fry, spoke from over your shoulder. Warmth from a hand pressed to your waist accompanied it, and you found yourself looking back in surprise.

The first thought that came to your mind was that he was a lot taller than he looked from across the room. To the point where you had to crane your head up to take him all in; the sliver of his neck exposed by his expensive suit, a mole beneath his right eye, two dimples that indented either side of his mouth as he pursed his lips in displeasure.

He cocked his head to the side, voice pitched dangerously low. “Don’t make her say it again.”

One glance at the fella who’d forced his presence on you had you raising a brow at how quickly the blood drained from his face. His blue eyes were blown wide, mouth opening and closing like he’d forgotten how to make a sound. He let out a squeak that sounded so incredibly unmanly that you were embarrassed for him, before making himself scarce. Perhaps his reaction should have given you second thoughts about the man who’d come to your rescue, but it didn’t.

It only made you all the more curious.

“I could’ve handled that, you know.”

He looked down at you, took in your playful smile and flashed you one of his own. “I didn’t like his hands on you.”

“But yours is fine?” You questioned, referencing his own hand still on your waist.

He hummed, a deep rumbling sound, and smirked. “You tell me, dollface.”

“I think,” you tilted your head towards the bar, “that you should give me your name and buy me another drink.”

You could feel it then, like the room had shifted.

He barely even had to glance at the bartender for him to make his way over. “You can call me Hoseok.”

Hoseok brushed a stray hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. It took all you had not to let the way your heart raced from the simple gesture. “And you?”

Your name fell from your mouth and something flashed in his eyes as he tasted it on his lips. Gestured for you to tell the bartender what you wanted.

The rules of the game had changed.